[Why I hate women, female phonies, Hillary Clinton for president -- again?, mothers do not make good fathers, and the overwhelming importance of Ideas.]
This is The Rude Guy, Rich Zubaty, real time beatnik, mushroom cloud of truth, sand in the gears of Dick Cheney’s LIE factory… and FURIOUS father.
When people ask me why I hate women I say: because they’re phonies. They look me straight in the eye, and lie. They say they’ll do something, then do the opposite. They smile, oh so invitingly, as they try to convince me to do things for them, for free. They don’t answer the questions I ask… and DO answer the questions I DON’T ask. I wrote a 500 page book about these kinda things called What Men Know That Women Don’t. The big secret about that is, the book’s not about women. It’s about men who ACT like women. In other words, MOST men today. Most men today learned how to act, from women. Not men. Phonies. No integrity. Cannot be trusted.
But now, thank God, we have Hillary. The woman who acts like a woman, IN PUBLIC. She’s against the Iraq War, but votes for it. She wants to help the workers get Healthcare, but she supports NAFTA, which is shipping their jobs overseas. I can’t figure out if Hillary is a woman who acts like a politician, or a politician who acts like a woman. Hillary is in favor of health care for all children. Can you VISUALIZE the kind of sociopath, who would come out AGAINST health care for children? This is bubble gum. A non-issue. But, if Hillary had a pee pee between her legs, I would surely vote for the courageous and righteous stand she took on… what? What issue? There’s nothing there. She’s a conservative Democrat. Republican lite. Why would I vote for her? Just because she’s a woman. For fucks sakes. Even Nancy Pelosi said: don’t vote for me because I’m a woman… but don’t vote against me BECAUSE I’m a woman, either. That MAKES sense.
The Republicans have No One to run for president in 2008. Jabba the Hut could beat them. So why are the Dems gonna run a middle of the road business Democrat? Another CLINTON no less? Why? Because Wall Street controls the Democrats, and they want another corporate feeding frenzy, like they had under Bill Clinton, where stocks soared to the moon, and workers real wages dove into the toilet. Where Wal-Mart rolled over middle America, and mom and pop stores were driven out of business. I won’t vote for Hillary because she’s already BEEN president for eight years. Her dumb ass, think-with-his-dick, husband, certainly wasn’t.
How about it Dems? Let’s get some good old F…D…R back into the Democratic party equation. Public works programs. Public health. The Second Bill of Rights. Freedom from Fear… of lack of food, of lack of shelter, of lack of medical care. Not another Wall Street, Wal-Mart stooge, with an enchanting smile. No one should be stupid enough to vote for Hillary just because she’s a woman… That’s not enough. Women are two-faced phonies. And so are most men.
[crow? Goose?]
And the other thing I’m quick to point out, when someone asks my why I hate women, is: I didn’t ALWAYS hate women. I wasn’t BORN hating women. I loved my mom and my wife and my daughter. And even my ex fiancé. But then something happened.
What happened?
They lied, and cheated, and betrayed me. All except for my mom. Stole everything I had: money, houses, even my kids. Then left me for dead, literally for dead. They were cruel and vicious and vengeful. And… strangest of all… they had a preposterous habit of projecting their greed and selfishness as some kind of profound philosophical high ground. As in… It’s too confusing for the kids to learn TWO religions, so they’ll just learn mine. Or… It’s good for America if I buy a new car – that’s what keeps the economy going. Or…It’s best for the kids, if we get divorced.
LISTEN to women talk. They never say: I wanna do this, because I’m greedy and selfish, and I just wanna do it. They always project themselves as selfless martyrs, helping humanity through some tough times, doing the best thing for everyone concerned. Don’t ya think?
Phonies. [Rude Guy voice?]
It’s getting so I can’t stand even being AROUND women. Sitting in restaurants, listening to their mindless chatter. It’s noise pollution. It makes my skin crawl. And now, no matter where they’re driving or walking, they’ve got a cell phone smacked against their ear. They got one hand on the steering wheel, one hand on the cell phone, and NO hand on the turn signal. Classic female self-centeredness. She’s driving… so LOOK out.
And the new thing I’ve noticed is: I can walk into an office, any office, and ask a question, any question, and I immediately get back a canned answer, that is NOT the answer, to the question, I ASKed. It’s HER answer. The answer SHE wants to give. She’s moving her lips, spitting out some kind of response, babbling about corporate policy, or rules and regulations, or some other institutional nonsense… but she’s not solving my problem. And in her world, that’s perfectly acceptable. Gibberish. Words with no content. Spitting out an answer… but not solving my problem. The Rocky Mountains of RUDEness, served up with a phony smile. Fuck these people.
I just spent a week trying to penetrate the feminized bureaucracy of Maui, to find out why three old women, have had exclusive use, of a county building, for 30 years, for their own private art classes. I need a studio to make paintings and podcasts. I’m not fucking around. This is not a hobby. I need space to work. I can’t do everything in my truck. They only use the building FOUR hours a week and, unlike EVERY OTHER group in the complex, they won’t share the space with anyone else. And they won’t let me into their group either. Harpies.
But, when I visit the various county offices, supposedly overseeing this facility, to find out HOW these geriatric bitches, get exclusive use of that building, I’m stopped cold by female secretaries, waving their arms in the air, smiling cardboard smiles, telling me to forget about that building. Erase it from my mind. Lying to me… trying to send me off on wild goose chases and dead ends… send me to other vacant buildings, under some other bureaucrats’ control, who’ve already told me: “NO”.
But none of these bitches will tell me WHO is behind this caper. Who built this brick wall across the information highway, beyond which nothing can be known? God? Linda Lingle, our Jewish, lesbian, Republican governor, and former Maui County mayor? Who? I’m a taxpayer. I have a right to know how taxpayer money is spent. Some asshole gave a few thousand dollars to the Republican Party, and his wife gets to use county property for EVER? Is that it?… That’s certainly how the Bush family does things.
And that’s how women operate. Give ‘em a little power, and they turn into dictators. Carve themselves out a little piece of the public commons, and lord over it, aloof and unanswerable. When men get power they share it, they give things away. When women get power they hoard it. Or trade it away, bit by bit, angling for ever MORE, personal gain. The world is just a marketplace to them. Everything has a price, nothing is free. And certainly not pussy. There’s no such thing as free pussy.
But my POINT is, this story of the old women, and the art class, is not just a silly little example. It’s HOW women DO things. Go into a welfare office or insurance company or motor vehicle department, and you’ll get the same response. Slick, practiced answers, that do not solve problems. Well-crafted babble, intended to divert, and derail, and stall, and ultimately destroy. I suffer through feminized information cowshit, 20 times a week, and I’m sick of it. I just want a straight fucking answer, and I CAN’T get it. NOT from women.
Women have taken over American society. Female values define what school, government, business, art and media are all about. And that’s why we’re so fucked up. That’s why we inhabit a shifting, gauzy nightmare… where everyone is pleasant and polite and kind… and LIES their ass off, all the time. Where presidents are elected according to how good looking they are. Where buying and selling, rank higher than praying. Where one party gets thrust into office for the EXPLICIT purpose of ENDing a war, then propagates dozens of hairsplitting reasons, for WHY they CAN’T do that. Women and feminized men, alike. No balls. That’s why. It’s the betrayal of the voting booth. These people weren’t elected to pull policy decisions out of their ass. They were elected to DO the WILL of the voters.
[animal sound: cow?]
But here’s what really EATS my brain. Here’s the snake in my intestines. The most feminized fuck up of all.
Mothers do not make, good fathers. Mothers don’t have a clue what fathers are for. Mothers do not make, good fathers.
Women have equal access to jobs, but men do not have equal access to their children. These days, two thirds of all fathers are booted out of their families, and told by the court, where to send the check. To believe that feminism is about equality – just because feminists say so – is like believing George W. Bush is a Christian – just because he says so.
And what’s really bugging me at the moment is: My kids are turning into, sheeple. SHEEPLE. My kids have lost possession of their souls. They’ve studied their asses off for years, at Ivy League schools, so they could become highly paid, bourgeois, yuppies… Sheeple. Work hard, take expensive vacations, have fun… What war?… Who me?… I’m just Livin’ the Life… Have kids of my own? Uhhh… Maybe some day. Distressingly feminized beings, who think that having an opinion about something, is the same, as DOING something about it.
They tell me they’re against the war, but going to anti-war rallies isn’t much fun. FUN! I tell them I wish the government would restart the military draft, so the young people in this country would wake the fuck up.
They tell me they’re gonna change the system from within. I tell them NO one in human history, has EVER changed the fucking system from within. Not once. Not ever.
They tell me “times have changed dad. Corporations run everything now.” As if they didn’t run everything AFTER World War Two, and BEFORE the hippie anti-war explosion, known as The Sixties. I tell them I hope THEIR kids grow up to be anarchist communist artists… so one day, they too, can taste this bitter fruit.
They’re in their mid-twenties now, but I was not allowed to see them, from the age of ten on up. Even when they went off to college, they signed up for some goofy ass financial aid program, that awarded them school loans, based upon the misfortune that they had been, quote, “ABANDONED BY THEIR FATHER.” Poor things. My ex kept trying to extort more money out of me, and wouldn’t let me see the kids unless I paid, which I wasn’t able to do, but they had been “ABANDONED BY THEIR FATHER.”
I shit you not. There are loan programs out there that encourage kids to deny they have fathers, so they can get money for school. The people who come up with these things should be shot. Talk about a fucked up, relentless lesbian/feminist nightmare agenda. My kids didn’t want to know where THEIR DAD was, because they might lose their financial aid. Another INCREDIBLE example of my ex, the lawyer, using her legal skills, to “navigate the system”, to keep my kids away from me.
According to Joseph Conrad: There are some women who drain the life out of men, and some who put it back. What I want to know is: what happened to the ones who put it back?
My kids have only their mother’s Jewish values.
ALWAYS worry about money. NEVER forgive anybody
As opposed to my Catholic values
NEVER worry about money. ALWAYS forgive everybody
Their mom is a Liberal. Progressive on social issues, conservative on economic issues. She thinks abortion and the stock market are both great things.
Their dad is a Populist. Conservative on social issues and progressive on economic issues. He thinks abortion and the stock market both suck, and they should be made, to go away. Birth control should displace abortion, and long term small business investment, should displace speed-of-light buying and selling, of corporate stocks… stock speculation… where the money never really lands anywhere for long. It just flits around the globe from Tokyo to London to New York and back again every day, never staying anywhere long enough to do any good, for anybody.
My kids know all about what my wife thinks, and nothing about what “I” think. So… six years ago, I wrote an Introduction to my book, The Corporate Cult, called: Things I Want My Kids to Know. The fucking problem is: THEY NEVER READ IT! So they never GOT it. And now they’re soulless. Their emotions are all faked. Like zombies. Like the invasion of the body snatchers, only for real. Really for real. My kids souls have been snatched right out of their bodies.
I LOVE them. They’re my flesh and blood. But it’s like I’m inhabiting some weird science fiction nightmare, where I have to watch them make DEVASTATING mistakes, because they WON’T listen. They WON’T learn. They’re gonna drive off the cliff, of competitive consumer culture, and I CAN’T stop them. They’re gonna believe some cloistered professors, and cowboy business entrepreneurs, and end up burned out and alcoholic by the age of 40. Panicked, because some twenty-five-year olds, who are younger and faster and smarter, are beating them out. Replacing them.
Because they won’t listen.
Invasion of the Body Snatchers, in real time.
So…for the next few shows, I’m gonna read some excerpts from that chapter of my book. The one, they won’t read. And maybe some good will come of it, some day, some how, for some one… MAYbe.
Things I Want My Kids to Know
[birds]
THIS BOOK HAS ZERO entertainment value. If you’re looking for amusement you’re wasting your time here. It’s not about feelings either. So if you need to take an emotional roller coaster ride after a numbing day staring at a computer screen, go rent a video – and stare at another screen. This book will never be made into a movie. The ideas you encounter here cannot be caught on film. They’re invisible to moviedom.
I’m not a shrink. I’m not going to psychoanalyze you or drip feel-good sentiments onto your brain. I’m not going to make you happy. I’m going to confuse you, challenge you, blow up your brain like a balloon – and pop it. Jean Piaget said that no learning takes place without disequilibrium, and you can count on experiencing some disequilibrium in these pages. George Bernard Shaw said that, reasonable men adjust themselves to fit the world, and unreasonable men adjust the world to fit them… therefore the ONLY social progress is achieved by unreasonable men. You may be sure you will encounter some unreasonableness in these pages. I’m not going to tell you you’re doing great. I’m not going to say that the secret to feeling good is all inside your head. I guess the bottom line is, I’m NOT OK and you’re NOT OK, and there’s work to do to make it better.
Wallowing in the touchy feely blandishments shoveled onto the airwaves by the current crop of archetypal psychologists, hedonistic healers, wimpy “relationship experts”, and jack-in-the-box spiritualists, wagging their happy heads, is a first class ticket to mental disease. It’s all a diversion. A psychic stew. It doesn’t help. Their cuddly abstractions take us further outside of life, rather than deeper to the center of it. Browbeating ourselves to remain positive, in the face of abominations, ignoring the people and institutions who are MURDERing the soul of our society, is suicide, plain and simple – and someone should be telling us about that! Being cynical is not a bad thing, when one is surrounded by so many things to be cynical ABOUT! It may, in fact, be the only SANE, SOULful response. Did I get the words right? It’s OK to be cynical. We can’t afford to waste any more time, standing in line, to purchase mass-produced fantasies – entertaining ourselves into apathy, psychically embalmed with feel-good formulas. I’m not Jimmy Buffett and this is NOT Margaritaville…and YOUR ship is SINKing.
This book is a deep dive beneath the surface of the fantasies we all live by: religious fantasies, political fantasies, entertainment fantasies, newsroom fantasies. It’s a cold look at the ideas which compose our realities: personal realities, social realities, metaphysical realities. It’s a magic microscope which can hold the largest galaxy, and the tiniest microbe, in its lens, at the same time. It’s a vigorous investigation of the invisible parts of life – those silent forces which move us through our days.
The MOST important parts of life, are INVISIBLE. The things we CAN’T see, have more influence over us, than the things we CAN. Ideas are the invisible parts of life, which steer us through our days. Our ideas about God and Love and Government, drive our destinies, more than all the information slung at us in school, or on TV. Is God really keeping score? Is it true that: All You Need Is Love? Do we really live in a democracy? Are men really the oppressors of women? What do we hold sacred? What do we believe? Where do we GET our ideas? And how do these ideas sculpt our actions?
Ideas are not butterflies, flitting from flower to flower. Ideas are not surrealistic pillows. Ideas are not gossip, or anecdotes, or information. Ideas are not sexy. They don’t taste great and have less calories. Talk show hosts hate ideas, because they’re hard to summarize, with a joke or a soundbite. Ideas are blood, delivering oxygen to your cells. Ideas are tree roots, probing deep out of sight, splitting dumb rocks into useful minerals, siphoning water and nutrients, up to the light of day, where they can be transformed into energy, and growth. Ideas feed the birch and oak in sunny weather, and anchor them in high winds, and storms of chaos. Ideas are as vital to us, as the air we breathe, and the water we drink.
And yet, that’s not how most of us see it. Most people simply don’t care about ideas. They’re too abstract. Thinking through ideas takes too much work. It’s not fun. Plus, most ideas are not practical, and they don’t produce immediate results. So we pop an aspirin, to prepare for a hurricane, and wonder why our lives are so stressed. We’d rather get immediate relief, even if it’s the WRONG remedy, for the WRONG circumstance. At least we can “feel good” about our multiplying disasters.
Well here’s a cruel fact: whether or not we care about ideas, ideas care about us. Whether or not we ignore ideas, ideas will not ignore us. They soak our brains and suffuse every cell in our bodies. They are water, and we are the fish who swim through them, and breathe them in. Ideas are inescapable…
But there’s a problem. In our time, ideas have received bad press. If we contemplate ideas, we are accused of “being inside our heads” – of removing ourselves from facts and feelings – the pizza and coke of our modern culture. It’s a satanically clever ploy.
Fewer ideas means less freedom. If we’re not operating according to our own well-studied ideas then, inevitably, we are operating according to someone else’s ideas. How many ideas are floating around the average ant hill? The average bureaucracy? Or Congressional committee? Fewer ideas means psychic slavery to hidden agendas. If you can’t imagine an alternative to corporate capitalism, or pooping in an outhouse, you’ll be stuck with them forever. There are powerful institutions at work, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, attempting to enroll us in their ideas: government programs, school programs, religious programs, corporate programs. And they are succeeding abominably because we’re swallowing Tylenol, watching trees blow over, and fence posts fly by. The wrong remedy. The less fluent we are with ideas, the more likely that our energy, and aspirations, will be commandeered by institutional agendas. The fewer ideas we have to work with, the more likely that corporate media will control our minds.
Ideas are blood. I’ve lived in some 25 different countries, and never have I seen a country, with such ANEMIC ideas, as the United States of America. Sure, we have technical ideas about how to make faster computers, and improve our health with vitamins, but at the bottom of it all, there is always something we must buy. Salvation through spending.
Nowhere but America do I see newspapers and media so full of entertainment gossip, stock market rumors, and computer gadgetry; and so devoid of political options. America’s motto is: “it takes money to live”. According to how we’ve been raised… force-fed 10,000 hours of TV commercials… this seems to be a self-evident truth. But in fact, for two million years of human existence, people inhabited a “social economy”, not a “money economy”, where necessities like food and shelter were largely acquired without money. Guess what? MOST of the world, still lives like that, today. Are they all poor and starving? Do they all want to move HERE? Hardly. We’re more likely to spend thousands of dollars, sneaking away on exotic vacations, to live how they live, for a couple weeks. No stress, fresh fish, lots of smiles and dancing. We are being brainwashed into believing that ambitious participation in a money economy, run by huge corporations, is the best way to live. It’s NOT. It’s only best for huge corporations. In fact, on a list ranking quality of life in the top 20 industrialized nations, by the Economist, the United States of America ranked 20th. Our longevity, health care, closeness of families, lack of stress, and consumption of pesticide free, non-genetically altered foods, is right, at the bottom. But we have a kick-ass military… Kiss MY ass…Dick Cheney and Halliburton.
[bird]
IDEAS FLOW INTO ACTION, and action flows into ideas, via a process called “soul”. That’s right, a “process” called soul. A movement called “soul”. Your soul is not something that flies out of your body when you die. Your soul is the movement within you, the invisible surf within you, that swells back and forth, constantly re-shaping the shoreline, between ideas, and action. When you put an idea into action, or when you formulate an action into an idea, your soul is working – integrating the visible and invisible parts of life – consecrating that restless zone between ideas and action, land and sea. Soul is a holy, and mysterious, process, where physics and metaphysics cooperate, to make timeless ideas come alive, in time.
But, there’s a problem. Modern culture slaughters soul.
[BIRDS]
OK, next time we’ll investigate Soul. The place where ideas and actions are joined at the hip. Inseparable. Soul. The perennial human attribute, so sorely lacking in MY kids, in MOST kids, in most PEOPLE, in modern techno culture… And they don’t even know what they’re missing. It’s a deep topic. And those of you who emailed me that you like my philosophizing and social commentary, will find plenty to ponder in the next two shows. Thank God, this is NOT radio. We don’t have to be stupid here.
Soul. Soulfulness.
So… Come on you soulful fucks. Help out. Put an idea into action. I’m sure you’ve already thought about how donating three bucks… THREE bucks… is doable, even on your extreme budget. So do it. Go to my web sites… happyfool.orG and, therudeguy.com… and click on Make a Donation… Your donations are keeping my nose above water right now. If they stop trickling in, I’ll have no choice, but to drop out of this.
Or maybe buy a book. Buy THIS book. The Corporate Cult. Your kids might need this as much as my body-snatched kids do. Or tell a rich friend about my oil paintings. Go to happyfool.orG and click on Oil Paintings. And be sure to tell other guys about the show. In the long haul, that MIGHT make a difference.
What I really need is a computer geek promoter, to help me expand my audience. I have about 500 regular listeners and get about $200 a month in donations. If I had 5000 listeners I might get $2000 a month, and I could stop living in my fucking car. And 50,000 listeners? In a nation of 300 million? Doesn’t sound impossible to me. This is the future – internet radio.
If somebody out there wants to help, we can figure out some kind of profit-sharing plan, so you get PAID for your time and skills. Think about it. I need help. And you probably know more than you think you know… and surely you know more than me. I got my hands full just writing and recording more shows.
This is The Rude Guy. I’ll be back. Stay strong. Don’t let anybody intimidate you. Don’t let anybody shame you. No more bullshit. That’s our motto…. No more BULLssshhhiiittt.
Ahhhh, feels a little better already.
