The Arms Trade
You may notice below* a poem for which I, in my preamble, expressed a lot of scorn, despite the fact that I wrote it. This was because I was written very emotionally, and, being the common lad that I am, emotion generally equates to swearing. It is probably the most sweary poem I have ever written, and it’s content is quite graphic. But, I have to say I have changed my opinion of it.
The poem itself is about the arms trade and is specifically aimed at the DSEi arms ‘fair’ currently going on in London (at the Excel exhibition centre in the Docklands area if you feel like going there and protesting on my behalf because I am too skint to get there…)
Now, let’s just break this down a moment.
The poem itself is about the arms trade and is specifically aimed at the DSEi arms ‘fair’ currently going on in London (at the Excel exhibition centre in the Docklands area if you feel like going there and protesting on my behalf because I am too skint to get there…)
Now, let’s just break this down a moment.
Arms - Many items may come under this term but, ultimately they are all involved in killing or the business of killing (i.e. support of killing, defending your killers etc. some things may not kill directly but are support mechanisms for killing)
Exhibition - A showing off. In this case it is a trade exhibition whereby people who make things to kill show off their killing machines.
Pardon my language, but WHAT THE FUCK!?
I say again.
Arms - Stuff that kills.
Exhibition - Showing off that stuff
WHAT, THE, and FUCK!?
The truth is I had never really spent much time thinking about that sort of thing before. In the past I have often been a busy man and, my recent sedentary lifestyle has led to me thinking more about things and, when I heard about this ‘Arms Exhibition (WTF?)’ I got to thinking about that.
Here in the Western world we like to tout ourselves as civilised people. The nations who lead the rest of the world in pursuit of what’s right and just in the world. And yet. In London. Right now. There is essentially an arms bazaar going on. To make it worse, the police and government know about it. Indeed the police are there, but they’re not there arresting international despots, tyrants, dictators and general blood-dealers. No, they are harassing and arresting the peaceful protesters who think, quite rightly, that there is something wrong with people dealing instruments of death on their doorstep.
There is something wrong with it, and quite frankly our government should not be encouraging it. I am sick of this god damned war economy we are living in. Here is how the
world works. There will never be peace with our current system. There, I said it. Notions of world peace. Forget it. It WILL NOT HAPPEN in our current system. Because war is driving the economy. Rich people love to make money, and will do so any way they can, and countries (especially the UK thanks to our own homegrown arms dealers!) will be happy to throw their troops into stupidly expensive wars because it makes the political elites rich donors very happy. The upshot of it is money comes out of the public purse and lives are lost while a lot of evil rich men are exceptionally happy.
THIS
HAS
TO
STOP!
Repeat.
Pardon my language, but WHAT THE FUCK!?
I say again.
Arms - Stuff that kills.
Exhibition - Showing off that stuff
WHAT, THE, and FUCK!?
The truth is I had never really spent much time thinking about that sort of thing before. In the past I have often been a busy man and, my recent sedentary lifestyle has led to me thinking more about things and, when I heard about this ‘Arms Exhibition (WTF?)’ I got to thinking about that.
Here in the Western world we like to tout ourselves as civilised people. The nations who lead the rest of the world in pursuit of what’s right and just in the world. And yet. In London. Right now. There is essentially an arms bazaar going on. To make it worse, the police and government know about it. Indeed the police are there, but they’re not there arresting international despots, tyrants, dictators and general blood-dealers. No, they are harassing and arresting the peaceful protesters who think, quite rightly, that there is something wrong with people dealing instruments of death on their doorstep.
There is something wrong with it, and quite frankly our government should not be encouraging it. I am sick of this god damned war economy we are living in. Here is how the
world works. There will never be peace with our current system. There, I said it. Notions of world peace. Forget it. It WILL NOT HAPPEN in our current system. Because war is driving the economy. Rich people love to make money, and will do so any way they can, and countries (especially the UK thanks to our own homegrown arms dealers!) will be happy to throw their troops into stupidly expensive wars because it makes the political elites rich donors very happy. The upshot of it is money comes out of the public purse and lives are lost while a lot of evil rich men are exceptionally happy.
THIS
HAS
TO
STOP!
Repeat.
THIS
HAS
TO
STOP!
People, you might be happy with your little life. You might have a reasonable job, you might have a comfortable home, you might have your brand new iphone and your bose sound system and your sixty-inch widescreen HD BULLSHIT. But there will not be a world to enjoy those things in if this system carries on. This economy is a perpetual motion machine of consumption and destruction. It may not affect you in your lifetime but your children, and your children’s children will suffer. The basest natural instinct is survival, not of the self, but of the species. Unfortunately a group of people who know your psychology very well have managed to engage in our brains needs and desires that detach us from that base need so as they can make money. But stop. Think for a moment. Do you want your lineage. Your family name. Your proud and noble genes. Do you want them to continue in the future?
Because there won’t be a future for them to carry on in.
It really is that simple.
The world as we know it will have all of its resources consumed and all of its land rend asunder by weapons if we don’t make a stand NOW for real change.
Forget this ‘terrorists will get you’ lie. You’re probably about as likely to die of a petrified owl falling out of the sky and hitting you on the head as you are from terrorism. Your own government is a bigger threat to you than terrorism. A much bigger threat. To the extent that they unashamedly sell instruments of death at ‘Arms Exhibitions’. Do you not see something wrong with that?
Stop being scared of what little you might lose. You have nothing if you have no future. So you have nothing to lose.
There is at the moment a large movement of people wanting change. Please join them. You have nothing to lose. Nothing except your guilt and shame at this current system. Please, world. Let’s make this change. Let’s get together as people and change this world. Please.
I apologise if this piece has been a bit disjointed. My thoughts do not organise well when subjected to extreme emotions and I am extremely emotional right now. But thank you for reading and I hope you find some agreement with me.
Let me just repeat for clarification.
Arms - Death
Exhibition - Showing it off.
SHOWING OFF DEATH - WHAT THE FUCK!?
Wake up people. You are change. You are freedom.
You exist, and that means that this world and everything in it are within your control. Use it. Change it. Before it’s too late.
HAS
TO
STOP!
People, you might be happy with your little life. You might have a reasonable job, you might have a comfortable home, you might have your brand new iphone and your bose sound system and your sixty-inch widescreen HD BULLSHIT. But there will not be a world to enjoy those things in if this system carries on. This economy is a perpetual motion machine of consumption and destruction. It may not affect you in your lifetime but your children, and your children’s children will suffer. The basest natural instinct is survival, not of the self, but of the species. Unfortunately a group of people who know your psychology very well have managed to engage in our brains needs and desires that detach us from that base need so as they can make money. But stop. Think for a moment. Do you want your lineage. Your family name. Your proud and noble genes. Do you want them to continue in the future?
Because there won’t be a future for them to carry on in.
It really is that simple.
The world as we know it will have all of its resources consumed and all of its land rend asunder by weapons if we don’t make a stand NOW for real change.
Forget this ‘terrorists will get you’ lie. You’re probably about as likely to die of a petrified owl falling out of the sky and hitting you on the head as you are from terrorism. Your own government is a bigger threat to you than terrorism. A much bigger threat. To the extent that they unashamedly sell instruments of death at ‘Arms Exhibitions’. Do you not see something wrong with that?
Stop being scared of what little you might lose. You have nothing if you have no future. So you have nothing to lose.
There is at the moment a large movement of people wanting change. Please join them. You have nothing to lose. Nothing except your guilt and shame at this current system. Please, world. Let’s make this change. Let’s get together as people and change this world. Please.
I apologise if this piece has been a bit disjointed. My thoughts do not organise well when subjected to extreme emotions and I am extremely emotional right now. But thank you for reading and I hope you find some agreement with me.
Let me just repeat for clarification.
Arms - Death
Exhibition - Showing it off.
SHOWING OFF DEATH - WHAT THE FUCK!?
Wake up people. You are change. You are freedom.
You exist, and that means that this world and everything in it are within your control. Use it. Change it. Before it’s too late.
*************************************************************
*The poem mentioned above.
Gun Runners
*The poem mentioned above.
Gun Runners
Blood stained hands in expensive executive wear;
red shirts. They were once white, now red.
On their backs are skin-spun sacks
bundled full of body parts.
Oozing fluids indiscriminately
across the slippery exhibition centre floor.
Death is the currency here.
Trades are done with limbs and torsos.
Limousines fuelled with blood.
Smoking cigars made from
rend burnt flesh, rolled;
the stench unbearable
as they disrespectfully fellate
these smoking, rotten cocks.
red shirts. They were once white, now red.
On their backs are skin-spun sacks
bundled full of body parts.
Oozing fluids indiscriminately
across the slippery exhibition centre floor.
Death is the currency here.
Trades are done with limbs and torsos.
Limousines fuelled with blood.
Smoking cigars made from
rend burnt flesh, rolled;
the stench unbearable
as they disrespectfully fellate
these smoking, rotten cocks.
These disgusting monsters,
their morals loosely hanging around their groin
as a pair of dishevelled, atrophied testis,
don’t need cock and balls.
They’ve got a bigger sack,
full of other people’s bodies.
Their dick ejaculates bullets
through a rifled bore.
Their own body means nothing.
They are not human.
Soulless vacuum ghasts
inhaling, ingesting, consuming.
their morals loosely hanging around their groin
as a pair of dishevelled, atrophied testis,
don’t need cock and balls.
They’ve got a bigger sack,
full of other people’s bodies.
Their dick ejaculates bullets
through a rifled bore.
Their own body means nothing.
They are not human.
Soulless vacuum ghasts
inhaling, ingesting, consuming.
They tear off their clothes in a fit
of onanistic, orgiastic death fucking;
Shooting holes in skulls
to have more orifices.
Fucking everything.
Fucking the innocent.
Fucking the guilty.
Fucking the poor.
Fucking the dead.
Fucking the world.
The future lies raped, defiled and sobbing.
Twisted Necrophile beasts contorting their
scarred and ugly faces in orgasmic ecstasy
at the thought of deaths bony hand
touching another child,
another woman.
Another man.
Another innocent.
Poltergeists rutting
rifle cocks,
shooting hot-lead climactic fluids
into the hearts of all around.
As each tear and gash in human flesh
becomes just another cunt to get fucked.
Each bullet wound an exploitable hole.
Each severed, dangling limb
just a dildo to fuck some more.
Disgusting
Earth raping
anima defiling
Incubi.
When demons in hell have nightmares,
they dream of a world where self-aggrandising pricks
preach peace and civility to the world,
whilst marketing death on their doorstep.
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