#America by tim barrus

[timbarrus]

Take notes. The old Monstrosity is going to shove this plan down your American throats. I am always kicked out into the street for saying this stuff, but it happens to be the uncivil truth. Moderators, grow up. You have no idea what it feels like to get your kids out of this invented mess. I lost my family because the Monstrosity reigns, and 2025 will rip our voices from our throats. Just like a moderator on a binge. No voices means the United States of America is in a civil war. A resistance will now emerge. It will have no head leader because it would be easy for the Monstrosity to kill any leader It wants. 2025's problem is called Erasing Your Voice. Americans want It. The New York Times is cowardly. The High Executive Committee Of Tea and Crumpets Declares (existential) Going Forward Politely. If Americans think the Monstrosity reads 2,000 pages, then I am Maria of Romania. It's ignorant. It has one goal, and that is to break the United States of America, and you are fine with this game plan to break the United States of America down to the status of a mote of dust. Eyes. Ears. Mouth. But no. That us little people would have a voice is trampled at NYT. The Monstrosity wants revenge and It will get it. He seeks to take away our voices, and so does the New York Times. Americans cower and shiver. We are undone. Americans want a civil war. The New York Times refuses to allow diverse voices. It wants a fake compliance of voice. You will swallow 2025 whole but politely.

[timbarrus]

Take notes. After I put my kids on the flight out of America, and all the crying had slightly ebbed, I had to sit in the airport for about an hour because I could not get up. I knew I had done the right thing. America is just not a place to raise kids. Life is giving them whip lash. This piece has little to do with keeping your papers organized. It's insulting that Americans would even think that. It's denial, folks. You do not know how to raise children, and you are leaving them with a toxic planet. Because you do not care. I am autistic and do not understand many of the rules I follow every day. I avoid the police because they will kill me as they are so easily threatened. I have never had so much as a parking ticket. America will not help in protecting my children. If we are going to slide into a civil war, and I think we are doing exactly that, I don't want my children anywhere near the Great American War Machine that focuses on identity. Our public policy is a pornography. Doing away with the Department of Education, or hobbling it, is a great plan to keep the marginalized in their place. Will there still be schools. Or indoctrination centers. The America you fear is coming at you like a trainwreck. I want my kids off the tracks, off the grids, I have already taught them how to fight. I want them educated. I want them to know how hatred runs the world of men. I want them to be able to recognize the power of authority, and to always sit where you can see the door.

[timbarrus]

You do not know me. You could never live my life. You would not survive it. I wanted to scratch one big window lined with clawmarks. I wanted him out. You can't have him. He's mine. The States are not safe. I don't give a fuck what you believe. I wanted him out. I got him out. My dime. My discretion. My heart. My ass.

He cannot live in the States. I will not have it. This country is the proverbial shit hole. Active shooter drills suck my big fat white dick.

What next, America. When do the executions start. Who gets the heads.

Our good citizens look the other way, look the other way, look the other way. America is a cunt. Flying and breathing that covid air has to stop. I am inside out with heart failure.

Americans have no idea what is coming. It's on its way like a trainwreck. What have you people done.

Everything you touch turns to pious shit. And I'm the one who is Mister Krazy

The airport was crowded. Kiss me. Hug daddy. I can smell a civil war in my gut. In my gut. Get out if you can. It's coming, and America gets what it so richly deserves. Go quietly. Then run like hell. This is not a drill. -- Tim Barrus

[timbarrus]

Truly great literature is written by outsiders—the unorthodox and the nonconformist. When their careers are destroyed before they begin, we all lose. Writers privately tell us that they are concerned about the inevitable literary pablum of the coming decade. It’s already here. 

Take notes. I live in a village in Appalachia. In the summer I am in the treehouse. I can see cerulean blue miles and miles of the Blue Ridge. Another country. Note the we, there is no we. I drive a dirt bike (the only way to get up here). My connection is a phone. I have a horse fence, a barbed wire fence, and a tall concertina fence. All posted. I built Numerous Signs: "No Trespassing. No hunting. No developers. We have shot guns (we don't)." A cherry bomb firecracker is louder than a shotgun. Home buyers and developers run. Developers have ruined your country. "Shoot To Kill." We don't shoot anything. No one on this mountain reads the New York Times. There are folks who live here with dirt floors. In Manhattan, you cannot imagine an entire house with dirt floors. It's inconceivable. We got the big snakes. Do not shoot them in the toilet. No more toilet. Shine as clear as a five in the morning waterfall. I know folks who live in their truck up on cinder blocks. Middle of the deep woods. Imaginative housing. Water when it rains. So take your moral judgements, erase the tape. You’all love to compare what you paid for your houses. We talk about how little we paid. I paid nothing. Gig economy. I'm a card counter, and everyone knows it. I advertise it. I don't participate much. If I did, they would shoot me. Around here, folks leave their shotguns on the table at the door. My presence is intimidating enough. So how big is your big house. I'll take my treehouse any day.

[timbarrus]

Take notes. As the middle class slides down the rabbit hole, the middle class will encounter exactly what they think they left. The lower middle class. We welcome you to our hovel. I cannot read articles like this without thinking: Where are the poor in this. In Appalachia, we know how poverty snakes around. The experts have always known more than we do. Where do you find homelessness in this discussion. Americans see the homeless and they look another way. We disappear. We are rendered invisible in this piece, too. And we understand that this invisibility is what saves us from many things. It's our contact with the Normals that we manage. We know a moral issue when we see one. Please, not another think tank paper on poverty. You'all pretend and pretend. You're not willing to talk about poverty and homelessness. Economic politics. As the middle class slides downward, you begin to discover exactly what I mean. Education does not mean us. Banking does not mean us. Elections do not mean us. A roof does not mean us. A job does not mean us. An environment that does not cause cancer would be nice. Our issues are not your issues. Until they are. We have an economy, too. It's called trade. I bake bread in a wood stove. I trade the bread for stuff. Yesterday, nails. The kind you pound. A hammer for five loaves. Three trout for mittens. Three baskets of apples for a Nanny goat. Nanny makes milk. I collect herbs from the forest. I don't want your economy because you all are so mean.

[timbarrus]

I am attempting to make a case for publication comments that comments themselves are important for a dialogue to be clear, we have to measure the probability that any issue can even mean us.

[timbarrus]

Tim Barrus

Take notes. Reform. The NYT has no radical voice. I am reading the middle of the road columnists who all deny they are the middle of anything. Nowhere in this thing did I read the word resistance. There is a resistance, but no one at NYT can crack that story. This is a success. Journalism treading water. These people are all talking about institutional response. Resistance exists. You just can't find it. The stories you publish do not require blood. First, you go off the grid. "But no one can disconnect." I assume that upper middle class writers believe this. Reformed institutions are always the upper middle class status quo solution. You cannot afford to admit that your institutions are irrelevant. Ephemeral. To say nothing of political institutions. Democrats flounder.

Break the country down to tribes. MAGA can move to Waco, Texas. Do not let them out. Build a wall. A big beautiful Democratic wall all the way around Waco. Conservatives get Manitoba. Democrats get the Museum of Natural History. There is nothing in your mean-spirited country worth reforming. Your focus on reform and reform and reform is patently absurd and beneath contempt. There are no institutions that work. Only for the government of the rich. By the rich. And for the rich. Democrats only move the furniture around. Four score and seven years ago, America was still a racist culture. No resistance is allowed a voice. Why can't we have a voice that says break the country up. The center will not hold.

[timbarrus]

tim barrus

Take notes. Carville seems to be saying that democrats can resist, and here's how. But the democrats are not listening. Listening takes real skill. Reflection is plain old lame. It's supposed to be a mirror of look at me I'm listening. You want authenticity, go buy a dog. What is authenticity. Authenticity is a scam. Morning in America is authenticity. A shining City Dump at the top of a hill. There is no authenticity attached to the United States. Carville wants reform. If we perform, we reform. Happy face. How do you reconstitute the ephemeral. It's over. The grieving will only facilitate What Are They In Grief About. It's hard to hang onto being irrelevant.

The democrats are the machinations of a past of barely able to catch up to where people really live. Beyond rhetoric. Decades for the democrats to reform because they have no new ideas. Just repackage into Happy Face plastics. Then, we'll win. Again. Maybe. A clean break is unthinkable. The democrats will limp along like Happy Face campers. The republicans run the camp. Go ahead. Make all the noise you want. Why should anyone listen. We are out here telling you it's economic, stupid, but the scam of authenticity that it will all get better if only we work harder, faster, quick, quick, quick, Lucy is eating the chocolates, will fail. The republicans should smirk. We genuflect and hit happy face. There is another way. This time the civil war will have to seriously nail it. There is no joy living in this horrid country.

[timbarrus]

tim barrus

Take notes. No mention of the term rapist. This is what normalization means. It's called cherry-picking. If we all play polite, maybe we will survive the rapist.  Maybe not. In my -- opinion -- none of us will survive the rapist. I am battering my head against this brick wall because I have daughters. You, America, in your status quo of ignorance and indifference, have elected a rapist to lead us. The women who voted for the rapist are traitors. The future looks like rape. He's coming for you. And you don't even know it. No one has a monopoly on ignorance. Stephens takes in a deep breath and proclaims he can live with a rapist at the helm. Good for Bret. I will not do that. Why. Because it's lame. It's insidious. When we get to rape, all the other narratives vanish.

It's personal. I have been raped, and rape itself screams volumes. It is not acceptable. It is not civil. It is not polite. It is not tea and crumpets. We all know that you can get away with anything, anything, if you have the lawyers and can pay them blood money. America is blood money. America runs with it. But what does it mean. It means a rapist is accountable to no one. We make him one of us. We reward it because we live in the shadows of the systems we (men) have created. Maybe the rapist can defend us from the evils of the world. Americans do not understand that rape is about humiliation and control. It will now humiliate and control. Us. Rapists are not brave men. They're cowards. Stop normalizing it. 

[timbarrus]

tim barrus

Take notes. I have been trying to join Blue Sky for months. It won't let me in. I give up. I cannot afford to leave the Internet. I don't make a dime from books. Nada. I'm living in a car in this mountain cold. Fingers ice. Hurricane destroyed everything. No Internet. I am writing screenplays. Hundred pages. Piece of cake. I sell scripts to Hollywood. The ultimate good old boys club. This thing they call comments is actually social media. All I have left is this phone. The Internet allows me to market film scripts. One after the other. In the backseat of a car. Not my car. A place to sleep is kindness. I do not care -- Blue Sky or Elon. I get no action on X. Nothing. I am at the max for FB. None of those people (not even one) speaks English. I sell books in South America. Goodreads is also social media much to publishers rolling their inept eyes. Authors post junk about the writers who are the competition.

It will be interesting to watch Blue Sky's evolutionary monetization. It will morph. The writer of this piece forgets Tumblr. Platform took a beating with all the porn. Courtroom. A lot of people ask me about New York Times social media, Comments. Heavily censored. There is also lots of action on Pinterest. I like the young people there because they're vibrant and they have ideas. Blue Sky versus X gig is just another walk in the park. They are all evil. I don't get cranks. Just voyeurs. I don't read feeds. Insta is another galaxy like Andromeda. Backlit like a cupcake.

[timbarrus]

Tim Barrus

Take notes. I put my kids on a flight out of this psycho country. The chief psycho's fundamental desire is to kill Americans. Americans do not not believe it. So, my grandchildren get to be raped and will have polio. America smiles. It's not civil to talk about a civil war. Americans love rape. Women voted for a rapist. Now, the rapist is taking a sledgehammer to the great killing machine. Ask about the executions. I did. "It wasn't rape." It was definitely rape. Then, the little ear trick. America is the mobster's mark. Little criminals. Do our sons and daughters acquiesce to the demand that they must be raped. Bring it on little psycho. I dare you. Civil war is on the march. There are countries that do not want you. They will not take Americans in. Escaping from the evil clutches and claws of the United States of America is quite difficult. Ask about long term visas. The regs can change overnight while you're landing. Internet out-of-date. Many other countries tightened up. There are countries that do not want a rapist on their soil. They understand that he is going after Americans. He is going to execute Americans. And you in your little jobs, your little houses, your racist communities, your little school house, your Little Hurricane Helpers who never show up. Your annoying fetish for death. My autistic second self is showing. Many people at the high end of the spectrum believe what we are told. Literally. He said executions. He's speaking literally. I believe him.

[timbarrus]

Take Notes. "But, like Mr. Manchin, we should all be rooting for them to succeed." I'm shocked. I find this statement to be vicsious. It defends the RAPIST. What this fool of a homo sapiens who wrote this sickening piece of pornography wants is called compliance. I wrote a book called THE RAPIST. "But, like Mr. Manchin, we should all be rooting for them to succeed." Vomit. Fat chance, baby. I want the RAPIST to fail hard. I do not root for this group of republican Bitches to succeed. I will defend my daughter from the RAPIST. It rapes women. I remove the RAPIST's humanity out of my brain. The It is not human. It's an It. A RAPIST. His stated 2025 plans to end HIV meds will get pushed back all the way to Act Up. Corpses on steps. The strategies worked. 

HIV meds eliminated. The RAPIST wants to kill us whether we like it or not. I hate everything the Rapist spits out of his fat asshole. America loves asshole. The asshole culture can run its tongue around a virtual psychotic. And here is this patently absurd article which is beneath contempt. The York Times bows on its knees before the fat asshole king. Feces emerge, spewed from his vile and evil eyes and he wants to kill us all, I will not shut up. It's a RAPIST. It RAPES women. Are we all commanded to sacrifice our daughters to be raped by a psychotic. We will be forced to watch at gunpoint. Why would the New York Times be OK with that. What this article is actually saying is you have no voice. Like me. To talk back. Normal. Good times. -- Tim Barrus

[timbarrus]

http://tim-barrus.format.com/

Capitalism and democracy have both failed us. We dance on their graves. It's not about your house. It's not about your job. It's not about your cars. This time, it's about you. Cars. Houses. Your boss you hate but you suck it up. Capitalism works for about three people who are rich anyway. The rest of us get to argue about fiddledeedee. A total lack of imagination. We can avoid responsibility. We did this. I am poor. I have always been poor. I will die poor. Your stuff will save you is ordinary swill. Stuff. More stuff. Oh, maybe we can be the rich, too, if we just work harder. Faster. Faster. The whole idea of Mister Big Boss is a pornography. We made this vile system. We embraced it. And we are going to pay. Pay. And pay. The only question is do you become a suit or do you take another direction in your life. The suits will always be suits because they believe that they can create institutional structures that will pay off. Emptiness. That someday will never arrive. The carrot or the stick. How about both. It's lose, lose. America was interesting but it failed because the rich see more money invested in authority. They want a piece of that, too. Poverty will kill you. They want a piece of that action, too. More children did not eat as much as previous years because we have learned how to limit access. We don't limit the food, we limit access. Social security is next. Medicare pays for nothing. You people are slaves and you do not matter. The culture is rotten to the core.

[timbarrus]

Every piece the New York Times publishes, that is about children, childrens’ rights, the exploitation of children, child trafficking, is done by a writer who at the very least, sounds like a very nervous amateur. It is hardly safe for me to say the Mommy America Suburban Stuff (consumer culture) has had everyone else pussy whipped. Property is everything you need to begin to compete with every other mommie on the block. Our garage only fits two cars and one truck and eight off the road vehicles, and a dirt Bike. We were going to have a pool but then we had a pool. Childhood is relative. It is also a fetish painted nice for another mommy’s smile. I know that look. After all, we live in the same neighborhood.

Childhood becomes a paradigm and there are rules. Your son will be targeted for a concussive event. It’s called piling on. Get the fuck back in that game. That’s childhood. Are they really going to be ballerinas. Some wear diapers. It shows. The New York Times doesn’t know Jack Shit about kids. All of us do not live on Long Island, and some of us, and the children of us, not that unlike the Children of the Vatican you tourists completely ignore which seems to be your answer to everything. Their arrival in America is not their fault. They have landed in a country where everyone hates them. They are more at risk for everything from everyone. There are still children in institutions who were, indeed, ripped from the family’s arms. Those arms cannot be replaced. What we have done with those children is criminal. The middle class guards who physically grabbed those kids – we were just doing our jobs – would not refuse to turn the shower poison on. They would have relished it. Just doing their jobs. Fuck your jobs. And fuck you. These kids will be aging out. Sooner than you think. And then what. How about those prisons still at the Guantanamo Bay Detention Center and Torture Chambers. Blaring music. Everyone here needs a shower.

Why did you do it and who do you know.

Who believes those kids are receiving a great education. We are making felons. We do it every day. They will be interrogated, you never know who the communists are. Order in the house. Order in the House. Mr. Chairman, I move that these communist children go take a long shower. It smells bad in here. The South shall raise again. Mr. Chairman, I hold that these charges cannot be real. I did teacher training for Head Start in my abandoned youth. Hundreds of them. All women. Every last one. Suddenly, I go off like a bomb because I am the worst brat in the class and everyone knows it. Horrified and staring. This is not how teacher trainers act. “Give me a name. What is the name of this child. He is in every class. You know him. You hate him. What a verbal and physical mess. No parenting.” This is where the suggestions begin. He’s going to prison. It has been decided. Everyone white nods. I want their names. Raise your hands. They all had names. One girl. She had a name, too. The entire family works the midnight shift at the slaughterhouse. The twelve-year-old pushed blood down a drain. Failing in school. He was crazy. No. We are failing him. I want to know why the mommies don’t deal with this. Deal with this. – Tim Barrus

[timbarrus]

http://tim-barrus.format.com/