It's not unlikely that what's happening in Guantanamo Bay is also happening, and has been happening for years, in the American prison system. Probably far less organized and with less of a hierarchy of pragmatism and utility, with a lot more of a kind of entertainment quotient than the military-run, or something supra-military more likely, programmatic experiments in brainwash and personality reconstruction that are happening in Cuba. It is Cuba, Guantanamo Bay, it's on the Cuban land mass. An American military base where torture and neuro-linguistic degradation are applied to the enemies of the men who run the world, at this time. That Cuba itself is generally viewed as an enemy of those same men and their organizations makes the presence of Guantanamo Bay on the island of Cuba extremely ironic, or would if it wasn't for the evil that saturates every bit of the images and stories that come from there.
The male fear of sodomizing rape, in most heterosexual males, is so intense it creates a repressive blindness in nice boys, once it's established that prison is where nice boys will get broken into sexual toys. That this idea was created and is perpetuated by the elusive presence behind the curtains of authority seems obvious once it's in front of you, but until then it's one more layer in the atmosphere of control we all breathe. Don't think about it.
At the same time that prison is where nice boys who break the law get raped, it's also where pedophiles, who are essentially rapists of nice boys and girls, get beaten to death. That these two concepts - rapists as lowest of the low/rape as common practice - can't exist side by side in the same place without a lot of cognitive dissonance isn't a problem because, as we said, the fear of that experience, of the image of that experience created by the controlling authorities, is so strong it creates an irrational blindness, as it's intended to do.
Since there have been prisons there have been men who salivated at the thought of the pool of experimental subjects prisons contain. Disposable or near-disposable human beings. The one taboo area, and yet the most important area of research - the human; laboratory animals are graded by their nearness to the human in affect and response, in metabolism and hormonal make-up. Where the fruits of science are applied, what it's for - the human benefits of any scientific research are its justification, its reason for being.
But it's taboo, experimenting on human beings. But these aren't human beings, not really. Better though to keep it very quiet, the public in its half-aware state wouldn't be as understanding, not yet, as it should, as it would be if it were fully awake to the great horizons of possibility that unfold from what are merely unpleasant necessities, the early stages being necessarily more brutal and mistake-filled than later, as the techniques are refined, and the tools developed.
Imagine young Arab men, after a year or so at Guantanamo, slipped into some chaotic place, with deep triggers of programmed action and an implacable calmness, a radiating sense of purpose, with their real, inasmuch as they can be said to have anything real left in their personalities, selves still aligned with the spiritual cause that got them sent to Guantanamo in the first place. Sleepers, as the crime-show writers would call them. Sleepers in the dozens spilling back into the Muslim world, to ensure the victory of the elect, the chosen, the sacred holy presence.
I can remember in my twenties stumbling across a puzzle I still haven't answered - How can there be any good left, when evil has all the tools? Because certainly evil men and women can give to charities and love their relatives and even believe in themselves as good, all the things that genuinely good people can do; in addition they can experiment on other creatures no matter how much suffering it causes, they can defile the world and the sacred in their own names, they can do the most profane things imaginable, and good men and women can't. What tips the balance? Or is it tipped? Are we witnessing the extinction of the human, of what was the human? We may be.
What rises from this is putridly ugly. It's like watching wasps fly in and out of a skull, like watching ants crawling in and out of the body of a dead child. Confronting what's happening is so disheartening it becomes a struggle just to see. And then what to do?
Most of the time what presents itself to me as the easiest way is the cessation of everything, the end of the species, even all mammalian species; though I think that may be the trick, to get someone else to take the blame for what's already happening - by willing it - because the incompetence of the controlling actors now, their visionless haste and heartless manipulative cunning, emotional sickness coupled with demonic professionalism, the soulless streamlined proficiency of this moment, with its gleaming techniques and unstoppable momentum, is headed straight for the guard rail and annihilation.
So that wanting to get rid of them by getting rid of everything aids them, fuels their incompetent lunge toward oblivion. But it hurts so much to look at it - it's a kind of fire, destructive and tormenting, just to see clearly what they're doing.
The male fear of sodomizing rape, in most heterosexual males, is so intense it creates a repressive blindness in nice boys, once it's established that prison is where nice boys will get broken into sexual toys. That this idea was created and is perpetuated by the elusive presence behind the curtains of authority seems obvious once it's in front of you, but until then it's one more layer in the atmosphere of control we all breathe. Don't think about it.
At the same time that prison is where nice boys who break the law get raped, it's also where pedophiles, who are essentially rapists of nice boys and girls, get beaten to death. That these two concepts - rapists as lowest of the low/rape as common practice - can't exist side by side in the same place without a lot of cognitive dissonance isn't a problem because, as we said, the fear of that experience, of the image of that experience created by the controlling authorities, is so strong it creates an irrational blindness, as it's intended to do.
Since there have been prisons there have been men who salivated at the thought of the pool of experimental subjects prisons contain. Disposable or near-disposable human beings. The one taboo area, and yet the most important area of research - the human; laboratory animals are graded by their nearness to the human in affect and response, in metabolism and hormonal make-up. Where the fruits of science are applied, what it's for - the human benefits of any scientific research are its justification, its reason for being.
But it's taboo, experimenting on human beings. But these aren't human beings, not really. Better though to keep it very quiet, the public in its half-aware state wouldn't be as understanding, not yet, as it should, as it would be if it were fully awake to the great horizons of possibility that unfold from what are merely unpleasant necessities, the early stages being necessarily more brutal and mistake-filled than later, as the techniques are refined, and the tools developed.
Imagine young Arab men, after a year or so at Guantanamo, slipped into some chaotic place, with deep triggers of programmed action and an implacable calmness, a radiating sense of purpose, with their real, inasmuch as they can be said to have anything real left in their personalities, selves still aligned with the spiritual cause that got them sent to Guantanamo in the first place. Sleepers, as the crime-show writers would call them. Sleepers in the dozens spilling back into the Muslim world, to ensure the victory of the elect, the chosen, the sacred holy presence.
I can remember in my twenties stumbling across a puzzle I still haven't answered - How can there be any good left, when evil has all the tools? Because certainly evil men and women can give to charities and love their relatives and even believe in themselves as good, all the things that genuinely good people can do; in addition they can experiment on other creatures no matter how much suffering it causes, they can defile the world and the sacred in their own names, they can do the most profane things imaginable, and good men and women can't. What tips the balance? Or is it tipped? Are we witnessing the extinction of the human, of what was the human? We may be.
What rises from this is putridly ugly. It's like watching wasps fly in and out of a skull, like watching ants crawling in and out of the body of a dead child. Confronting what's happening is so disheartening it becomes a struggle just to see. And then what to do?
Most of the time what presents itself to me as the easiest way is the cessation of everything, the end of the species, even all mammalian species; though I think that may be the trick, to get someone else to take the blame for what's already happening - by willing it - because the incompetence of the controlling actors now, their visionless haste and heartless manipulative cunning, emotional sickness coupled with demonic professionalism, the soulless streamlined proficiency of this moment, with its gleaming techniques and unstoppable momentum, is headed straight for the guard rail and annihilation.
So that wanting to get rid of them by getting rid of everything aids them, fuels their incompetent lunge toward oblivion. But it hurts so much to look at it - it's a kind of fire, destructive and tormenting, just to see clearly what they're doing.
