Thursday, March 12, 2009

The Unrestricted Free Market Can Gargle My Balls

This. This antiquated song, this novelty thing that Mr. Burns drunkenly sung to himself in his limousine after getting completely fucked up on brandy in a Waterford decanter, this is the thing you wrought again.

Fuck you.

Nearly twenty years ago, this was something an animated, desiccated plutocrat comforted himself with; now it's something that probably scares half of America to death.

You dumb, Adam Smith-tonguing ideological fucks had the entire 19th century to murder human beings and collapse economies without any repercussion. Fuck you for trying it again. Fuck you for thinking it would work again. It's never worked. It never will work. Everyone with a mallet or an unscrewed lawnmower blade should hack you limb from limb and tear you out of your homes and loot them for whatever copper wire can be found in there, so at least we can have non-ClearChannel radio broadcasts for the coming American apocalypse.


  1. You, too, huh? Can we toss Madoff in with them?

  2. Sure.

    Honestly, I thought I'd do what my parents did: be a radical in my teens, dissolute and slightly indifferent in my twenties and co-opted and mainstream by my thirties. Instead, I'm going in the opposite direction. At the same time that I'm thinking, "Hmmm, we should really start saving so we can have a kid," I'm also actively rooting for class warfare to break out.


Et tu, Mr. Destructo? is a politics, sports and media blog whose purpose is to tell jokes or be really right about things. All of us have real jobs and don't need the hassle that telling jokes here might occasion, which is why some contributors find it more tasteful to pretend to be dead mass murderers.