MY RANT, MY REACH AND MY ROLE, NOW EXERCISED.
Warning: The reader will continuously be exposed to the word “fat” in this essay. Further, the reader will repeatedly see the phrase “little fat man” and little fat boy” in this essay. There is one person in the entirety of North Korea at this time, who has been photographed, and who would be considered either “a man of girth” [ which is the eloquent way of stating it ] or who would be considered “fat.” And that man is Kim Jong Eun. I have spent the last two weeks looking and hundreds if not thousands of photos of the people of North Korea. I have not seen EVEN ONE photo of an overweight person among the population. Why? one supposes. Why do you think? Kim Jong Eun does not eat three times a day. He FEASTS at least five times a day on the most expensive food stuffs imaginable while his people drop dead of starvation as they struggle to stay upright without wobbling in any given moment. Even if the North Korean people had the raw courage and inner resolve to form a bloodless COUP and drop this man dead in his tracks without firing a single shot [ yes, there are more than one thousand and one ways to do this ] I highly doubt that they would have the physical strength to pull off the feat. I am making it abundantly clear in this essay how thoroughly I despise this ridiculous little man and everything he represents. Not to mention that Dennis Rodman is now forever on my shit-list as well. I have had enough of being threatened by teeny-weeny comic book characters posing as the rulers of nations. If you are a North Korean living in the free world, I hope you will find a way to get this essay into the hands of the right people who are living in North Korea. Somehow, some way they need to bring this man to his end, and quickly, before the US military does it for them. It’s easier to put one deranged fool out of his misery than to take more than half of his nation with him as nuclear collateral damage, don’t you think? That’s why I am writing this essay. Better the one man die NOW than 15 or 16 million of his own people soon die with him because they were too scared to rise up and do something to stop him before it was too late.
It’s another crazy day in the life of an American news blogger. I wake up and before I am half way through my first cup of tea I see two headlines which call up my warrior blood, in spite of trying to ignore them:
Pentagon: North Korean Missiles Can Reach The United States
US to boost nuclear missile defences to counter North Korea
That’s not a combination of headlines I want to see, and definitely not a combination of headlines I really want to write about. So I wasted a good half hour blogging about a 33 million dollar casino heist in Australia, and a notorious 25 cent vending machine which is now famous here in the states. But the news out of North Korea constantly nags at me, and I have focused alot of attention on the problematic and starving country in recent weeks.
What I DID NOT want to EVER hear from the Pentagon is a statement confirming that North Korean missiles can hit the US west coast, which is my beloved home [ my home by birth, not by crawling under a fence and running through the desert to get here ] my cherished point of origin for all my daily endeavors, both in life and on the internet. It makes me quietly livid to know that a crazy, petulant, indulged little fat boy in North Korea, whose entire life experience could most likely be placed inside of an Asian tea cup, has the technological wherewithal along with the sheer insanity to believe he can nuke me and the country I was born in, the same country who has helped to feed his starving people for more than two decades now.
How the hell did the world get this crazy and out of control? How has it come to be that madmen, little fat men, big fat boys and abjectly crazy lunatic deranged men can routinely climb to the helm of a nation? Or just by the twisted “luck of the cosmic draw” be born into situations where they literally inherit an entire nation of thin, weak starving good and earnest people who deserve so much better than what they have been given and are already cowered into submission by those in the family who came before?
What sickening fluke of karmic fate has it that a woman like me is pressed to write an irate essay about such a pathetic and inherently tragic and narcissistic individual like little fat boy Kim Jong Eun?
With all the possibilities of the world at his feet, born into posh luxury, opulent material decadence, and just about total military power, all this man can think of to do with what he has been given is to continue hurting, torturing, and starving his own people while simultaneously threatening to NUKE the hand that feeds him. How tragic and truly sickening is this situation? How strange has this world become that healthy creative positive living, goodness and normalcy is continuously threatened by clinically questionable, most likely pathological little fat men from foreign lands who make the scripts of all 007 movies potentially come true with their pathetic threats to continuously “nuke the world” since they will never EVER fit into it, even if they try for decades on end?
All the visits in the known universe from Dennis Rodman will NEVER ever make Kim Jong Eun a normal man, capable of normal male instincts to lead, guide, govern and care for his people in a benevolent and loving, intelligent manner. Born into the same kind of clinical pathology which formed Hitler, and cultivated from a cadre of terrified military “yes” men who tremble to offend the little fat boy [ lest he run over them too with tanks] Jong Eun is destined to live an isolated, rather sickening life and will come to a quick and quite isolated “rather sickening end” himself one day.
The minute the little fat boy makes the most foolish decision in modern history is the minute he and his country will cease to exist. “These are the facts of the case – and they are not in dispute“, quote a famous movie scene.
I happen to believe that our nation has no intention of standing idly by as Jong Eun shakes his little fat belly and rattles his tiny sabres, hoping that in so doing he might raise his position in the world from ZERO to possibly ONE.
There are one-thousand-and-one wonderful things which Jong Eun could have done with the opportunity which was given to him by the universe, in having him be born into one of the most despicable ruling family dynasties in Asia, if not the world.
A brighter, more creative and intellectually inspired man would have had the inner spiritual wherewithal to actually reform socialism in his country, giving people more opportunities to work, learn, earn and provide better for their own families rather than being forced to EAT THEIR OWN CHILDREN in final starving desperation.
A better man would have set himself immediately to the task of dismantling North Korea’s NOT so secret network of gulags, allowing people to return to their families to raise their children and mend ravaged relations.
A superior man would have rolled up his sleeves immediately after ascending to the highest position in the land and reached out to the all the brightest and the best in every nation that he claims has “sent gifts of friendship” to look for innovative trade and economic solutions to North Korea’s dying internal Detroit-like generational fiscal decay.
But Kim Jong Eun is not that kind of man and he never will be. His inspired “opening moments” of leadership at the helm of his Asian fiefdom is to threaten to nuke the greatest nation on earth within about a year of inheriting his little kingdom. Epic Fail is not a term that even begins to describe how pathetic and tragic his reign is in it’s genesis.
Little man Kim Jong Eun: May your rule be brief. May your legacy of sheer madness, idiocy and genetically inherited evil doom you to a fleeting and completely unimportant moment in human history, which won’t last long enough for historians to even bother to discuss. May you fail to even become a footnote in the passing of events in time and space as the rising tide of Man’s goodness swallows his fading lesser more wicked self in the next 100 years. May you evaporate as quickly as you have imagined that you might cause others to evaporate in order to bolster your own dim sense of actual selfhood.
May your fantasy of who you are grind point to point very soon with the stark actuality of what you can and cannot do in the real world of nations, and hope get away with it. May your end come quickly. May you then be utterly erased and forgotten in God’s universe.