Author: flyagaric23
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How do you measure betrayal? A betrayometer?
What degree of bad faith, how much disloyalty and how to measure treachery?
Can you make a hierarchy of Betrayal values? Here’s my first attempt, and please keep in mind that one man’s treason is another man’s genius, depending on the conceit of nations and the conceit of scholars (media conceit). When the tabloid newspapers declare X to be a traitor, and betrayer, compared to what I ask?
Betrayometer Level 0: Everybody who changes their mind based upon new information.
Betrayometer Level 1: Jeremy Corbyn. Betrayed some labour voters, the jury remains out to what degree.
Betrayometer Level 2: Hugh Grant, betrayed his wife by soliciting a prostitute.
Betrayometer Level 3: John Bercow, betrayed parliament (according to some people) but hard to put your finger on specific evidence of this.Betrayometer Level 4: Edward Snowdon, betrayed his employer, the CIA, arguably in the interests of the American people and citizens of the world?
Betrayometer Level 5: Ian Austin, Labour M.P for Dudley, who betrayed his Labour party by voting for Boris Johnson’s Brexit deal.
Betrayometer Level 6: Ruja Ignatova, Bulgarian scammer, betrayed customers of OneCoin with a Ponzi scheme to the tune of 4 Billion.
Betrayometer Level 7: Kim Philby, betrayed the British, and allied spies for the Russians, as part of the Cambridge Spy Ring.
Betrayometer Level 8: James Jesus Angleton. Betrayed everybody and everything he got near to. The magister Ludi of betrayal, lies, and spreading double-cross paranoia.
Betrayometer Level 9: Boris Johnson, betrayed his wife by having a mistress or two, betrayed his brother and father, betrayed his own party, betrayed the people of the UK, betrayed the DUP and Ireland, betrayed the Queen, betrayed Europe Union. (Level 9.5: Trump, Betrayed Kurds, Europe, China, Russia, India, Asia, Africa…all humanity)
Betrayometer Level 10: Vidkun Quisling, double-crossed Norway, the country and its people, in support of the Nazi party during WW2. The name Quisling is now recognized as a synonym for betrayal.#Brexit
#Betrayal
#HierarchyOfValues
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Bobby Reefer R.I.P
Bobby Reefer.
Bobby! Bobby. Man, this cat. Let me tell you about this cat. Bobby was the coolest hippest cat you ever met. Bobby spent a good 7 years of his life in the 420 Coffeeshop in Amsterdam, where I was fortunate to share a few thousand hours together with the rascal. We were pretty close, I mean, we had a good time together at the cafe’ and to be honest more people will remember Bobby than will remember me, but that’s cool. Bobby deserves to live in eternal memory as the legendary cat of Amsterdam coffeeshop 420.
I was there when he first walked in the door, no really, he just walked into the coffeeshop, a kind-of stray cat, looking for some adventure and food. Bwoy did he find it. The 420 Cafe’ was the perfect cafe to pick due to the fact that Max, the previous 420 Coffeeshop cat, had recently died and there was space availbale for a new puss to move in. Who knows, perhaps the previous owner shoved him through the door, either way, as soon as we saw each other I kind of knew we would become colleagues. Sho’ nuff, Bobby hung around, and after some proper cat food and sweet treatment he found a home at the cafe. Eventually getting special bedding, treats, knuffles, and even his own room which was bigger than mine, and free of charge.
Within a few short weeks Bobby was up on my lap (back in the day when you had time to sit down in a coffeeshop, and maybe read something) creating the cozy atmosphere that cats and humans enjoy. Sitting purring, minding his own business. A cool cat…unlike a lot of tourists, Bobby could shit in the right place, and even managed to control his vomitting-up of mouse body parts with a certain, je ne sais quoi. A true gentleman cat.
When not on my lap, Bobby would often be sat to my left, on the hash and weed dealer counter, seemingly asleep or very relaxed, until…some customer would take the liberty of touching him. Oh man, I’ll never forget the scratches and hisses you gave to those heavy handed motherfuckers, hahaa. Serves em’ right. Some might say he was too rough, or too quick to pounce, I will always love Bobby for his scratching, that made fine entertainment for the regulars, and staff, who knew what Bob was capable of and who anticipated a deep scratch and a hiss when some over confident mofo’ touched that particular part of his back. “Go get em’ Bobby”.
Bobby made the whole shop his turf, patrolling the tables both under and over for mice and men, sometimes deciding to sprawl out across a table like a lion sunbathing, often getting small amounts of weed stuck to his mottled fur, becoming a kind of weedy mammoth cat. What a legend.
Since the gov. project to close down many coffeeshops around the central area of Amsterdam, the 420 Coffeeshop got busier and busier, to the point where life for Bobby, and some staff, became unworkable. Eventually Bobby was relieved of his duties and went to live in Amsterdam East, where I was fortunate to visit him a few times. As most cool cats do, Bobby didn’t seems to remember me when I met him again after a few years away, I was expecting it to be just like old times, but he was older now, perhaps 18, and seemed to want nothing more than to be left alone, sleeping, dreaming of scratching pot tourists.
Today, October 22nd, 2019, I got the news that Bobby took his last trip to the vet, and was “put down” as they say in England. On the contrary, today Bobby was put up! Up there with “Miffy” “Zack” “Grover” and a few other cats I was fortune to spend time with, and millions of others, gone but not forgotten.
Bobby Reefer (1998–2019)
#DeepScratch
Bobby, 2019 (Amsterdam East) -
Brexit Vasectomy And Euthanasia
Doctor: Hi, can I help you with something?
Me: Yes, I’m unsure about having a vasectomy, tell me more.
Doctor: Just get on with it!
Me: I beg your pardon.
Doctor: Vasectomy means vasectomy
Me: what?
Doctor: Trust me, I’m a doctor. Next!
#Brexit
#Vasectomy
Doctor: Hi, you again. Can I help?
Me: Yeah, I’m considering euthanasia, can you explain my options, please.
Doctor: Euthanasia means euthanasia.
Me: Oh, that simple eh, well….
Doctor (interrupting me): Just get on with it
Me: my groin hurts…
Doctor: Next!
#Brexit
#Euthanasia
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In like
In
Out the dirty bin, like Flynn, trippin’
Sin of Johnsin, Jonesin for deregs
Suckin’ the last dregs of capital
From a burst bubbleIn, in with them, in it together
With Europe to weather the weather
You choose Trump or Tusk?
In with your kin
Folks in mass who be from working kingdom classIn for the workers rights
In for fair and decent opportunity for all
In for one and one for all in
In good we trustIn over your head with the out gang
In the thick of it and getting thicker by the Wetherspoon full
Think McFly, think quicker
Sicker and licker shot to shoot the big dipper dobberIn, like cucumber in Gin
Like a holiday abroad on a whim
For consumer rights
For human and animal rights
Stay in, come unity
Not separatism
No schismReady up for the fight, for the flight, the blindsight roulette zit
In like a hole in one
Like a slam dunk, a corner kick, a prick
Inn like a stable for JayzeusIn without Tory heist
In without Brexit Party hallucinations
In like Quintin Tarantino movies
In your face Ian Turncoat AustinIn the pool of commerce the largest market
In the mood
In the future of international learning with European cultures
In the market place of market places
In your own skin
In place in positive spinShedding Camerons pigskin and Johnson’s sheepskin
Leaving deadley sin, Dudley sin by Ian Busted Austin
In with the strong, in to underpin your rights
In and ready to take it on the chin
Begin trackin’ thin lines that lead to lies and Gove coke puffin’
Boris de Pfeffel huffin’ lies and elitist disregard
For everybody but them, the BullingdongersIn like the loony bin Boris should be confined within
In like the firing pin
In the cross hairs of hate I relogate to the trash bin
Reason, fairness, openness and up-to date information
In memory of Heathcote Williams
In time
In like Huckleberry Finn.
In like a drawing pin to the shin of Boris Johnsin.In
In
In
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Domesticated Ostrich Syndicate Emu Race (DOSER)
Yesterday, I woke up to this fragment of a dream, and went with it. A dream you can join, order an egg and incubate.
Future prophesy #23: Domesticated Ostrich Syndicate Emu Race (DOSER 2020)
The Ostrich will become further domesticated, and perhaps genetically altered or drugged to behave…at least as well as a teenager…in the urban environment. No city and rural transport system proposal is greener than this one! Ostrich transport (with saddle and other accessories, Ostrich carriage tbc…) neep-neep.
Also the 2020 Green and lean domesticated Ostrich can provide what used to be measured as horsepower. Replace those pesky street robots currently doing the rounds. I am going further than Vermin Supreme with his “one pony per person” promise. An Ostrich can outrun a police horse, and if trained properly jump high and far. “One Ostrich per person” is campaign promise any political hack can dig on.
**Let’s get this bird on the road…neep neep**
Furthermore, Ostriches provide manure which can used for fertilizing the crops, if you know what I mean, plus, Ostrich eggs can be consumed and/or sold…both with high value (real nutrition value and monetary value…a rare mix). They can also provide good company, if trained right, and give that loving feeling to those who enjoy animal comforts and companions. Oh the chicks are soooooo cute.
Ostriches boast a rich and vast global history, when fully grokked in the context of my new bird plan, can tun your hair peacock. From ancient Egypt, Sumeria, Greece and into modern times, the Ostrich has been poking his or her regal head. into the shot: photo-bombing history. Ostrich feathers were once worth more than their equal weight in diamonds. Fact.
I argue, if they can send Ostrich eggs through the post to make an Ostrich farm for fucking Ostrich meat! and leather….for crying out loud, I say JUSTICE in this instance, is a movement to incubate, nurture, train and grow Ostriches, from chicks to domesticated urban Ostriches.
“Ostrich McBikes not McNuggets, you monsters!”
To be raised, perhaps on CBD oil, to become fully functioning Urbirds (Urban Birds) streetwise, more beeeeeyuuutiful than any Tesla! or metal death machine, tram or train. A living thing god damn it.
Ostrich culture will emerge in the 2020s, some will be bred for a varied palette of rainbow plumes, and some cosmetic boosts. How would a little bootox here and there enhance an Ostrich face? You might get to hang with the president of the USA.
Please consider joining *OLF* and/or *OLGA*
Ostrich Liberation Front
&
Ostrich Liberation Gang Associates“Get dem’ eggs, build an independent army of Ostriches, dash the system. neep-neep”
I recognize that currently, Ostriches may not like to be ridden like a horse, and it can damage their wings. I propose a humane and caring program to domesticate the Ostrich, and entertain other ideas for integrating them into our human civilization.
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FACT CHECK, 1-2
Introduction: I woke up this morning and rhymed my mind wheels. Enjoy, love, fly.
Fact check and false check chicken neck
Fat Cheque, fake chap, make chat,
Ignorant ain’t cha’I look pale but I got this tribal trail for yer’
A big whale, like a shark fish swimming tour
Eternally 23, names wordsley
Off the top get a mop cuz’ brexshit moves sleazey
You tease me, with the promise of rhyme
Debase me, with crime-minister primeI’m coming for Boris with Jez and Chuck Norris
We gonna’ plant a forest, we gonna’ chant a chorus
For poets who come before us, and claw us a torus
In spore us inspire us can’t tire us with tyrants
My family migrants with floral fragrance not vagrants
This ones for the vegans pagans and Finnegans
Rap shenanigans in my shattergums sugar-plumb fairy songs
Sculptured bongs in cultured dishes, make three curses
And bake four wishesGet some tissues, for this fission-fusion
Boris and Mogg And Farage mirage illusion
Contusion contortion, lies and distortion
More than their portion of sleepy Eaton potion
Dribbled out to the nation
Logic on ration
The P.M loves fashion
And the fashion is fascism and isms and schism
First-class division for second class visionFact check and false check chicken neck
Fat Cheque, fake chap, make chat,
Ignorant ain’t cha’Fuck Boris, don’t let the lies permeate
Hold the motherfucker to each word turd mate
Tabloid media failing yer big tech selling yer’
Big dicks swinging yer getting fucked I’m tellin’ yer
Wake up smell it year
The writings pun the wall and it’s led by donkeys
The two blonde beasts were both bred by honkies
War carded, retorytarded
fart in the face of democracy, Trump
A bull in the office of orifice, BorisSo I leave that behind and get my ass outside
Take a trip to the park and go “weeeee” down the slide
I skip some dog shit and write a new hit
I got more on my shoe than I know what to doo-doo with
so I pick it and flip it and scrape some more off
While thinking of Putin and Mikhail…Gorbachev
Having a loff’ getting shit of my shoes
The arbitrary rhyme scheme to mean tepid bluesIt looked like choco ice cream but
Tasted like marmite mixed with
Vaseline, a brexshit dreamFact check and false check chicken neck
Fat Cheque, fake chap, make chat,
Ignorant ain’t cha’Well listen, they’re not all this, and all that
I’m not all steve and I’m not all Pratt
Don’t carry a gat or a bat or gun
Just a couple of pens, some vinyl and drum
Ruppa-Pum-Pummel your feet with stones
Eat hot dog buns with spiced microphonesFight waves and resistance with minimal drag
like a sea hag witch shaman poet slag
lightning bolt one-leg from Winnipoop-peg
Smoked your last roach and drank the last dregGoodbye summer wine hello winter rant
When I write off the dome its me, ste, itinerant
Squinity butterfly sprinty, with an Irish tint
Favourite colours green, and flavour mintI put your tongue in a splint
And sent your eyeballs to Clent
Nose to the grind
And ears important
Head in the clouds and feet on the slab
Gimme some acid to unleash my splift’ of the gobThese rhymes on a cob
This life of a slob, firing back at the mob
Who lost you your job
With lies from their club
I shoot with this dub
I scoot to the nub
Just dance to the sub
Sit up, don’t be a slouch like Mogg
Be like Jez
Make plans to heal this mezz’
Confess and test the best of yourself
Get abreast of yourself
Find the rest of yourself
Find the othersOh, oh, oh….find, the others
Agree to tolerate their manias
If they can tolerate yours
Be like flipper not Jaws
Take a walk take a pause
Reflect and direct the love in all ways
The hated are fated to be elated with antiquated hateFact check and false check chicken neck
Fat Cheque, fake chap, make chat,
Ignorant ain’t cha’A poet avoids rhyme like the plague
Forcing clarity of sanity distinguished from vague
These rhymes are childish
Puns served hot and mildish
English tingle ish’ single this, finger lift, to right wing toffsI wish I wish in just one stanza
You’d explain the brexit extravaganza
Hex it, stop it, smell it, chuck it, heal it, steal it,
Few walk the talk, few truly feel it
If you want to fight Trump you have to stop Brexit
That’s it, in a nutshell, a gut smell, say what now?
What punk-rock rap includes lyrics from Bercow?
Get justified ancient and Moo Moo
Come together and tackle the doo-dooFact check and false check chicken neck
Fat Cheque, fake chap, make chat,
Ignorant ain’t cha’Fact check, 1-2.
–Steve Fly 9th, October, 2019. Amsterdblam.
DEEP SCRATCH 