Blackwater founder Erik Prince is a mercenary torquewad

December 20th, 2009

“‘I put

myself and my company

at the C.I.A.’s disposal for some very

risky missions,’ says Erik Prince as he surveys his

heavily fortified, 7,000-acre compound in rural Moyock, North

Carolina. ‘But when it became politically expedient to do so, someone threw me

under the bus.’ Prince—the founder of Blackwater, the world’s most

notorious private military contractor—is royally steamed.

He wants to vent. And he wants

you to hear him

vent.”

Vanity Fair

And I want

Erik Prince to go jack off in his hat.

He’s a torquewad.  (I made it up — I was going to go with

“douchewad”, but “douche” is kind of a weak, yin sort of word.  Erik is all yang,

at least in his tiny mind and his comical presentation, thus the modified

appellation.) He’s a liability to America and to his lord and saviour

Jesus Christ and to humanity.  I’m praying

for him.  Here’s

why:

I’m sure

in his heart of hearts

Erik Prince is a wonderful human

being.  Rich kid of a very rich dad.  Nothing

wrong with that, accident of birth, there but for the

grace of god go I.  Became a Navy SEAL, not a bad path at

all if papa has thousands of employees and is on his way to

billionairehood and you need to distinguish yourself as a young

man.  No one can legitimately question how hard that training is, nor

how hard the men who absorb it and survive it.  My father served in two

wars, was a USMC fighter pilot, and I know how strong and good he is and

what part the military played in helping him become that way (it did some

other things to him, too, but that’s another story).  I have a good

friend who was a Navy SEAL for seven years in Vietnam,

and I admire his character plenty, too.  They’re both

real men (which is another complex

subject for another

time).

Erik

couldn’t let it go

after he got out, though.

With all the hundreds of millions his

daddy left him, he bought up a bunch of land in

North Carolina and opened a big fort.  ”Me and Joey and

Billy and Red are playin’ army for life!”  Okay, doofy,

sad, but boys will be boys.  Then an election gets

stolen and we have a walking, talking —

well, sort of talking — codpiece

in the White

House:

A chickenhawk

of a codpiece.  Who, like all

dry-drunk chickenhawking C-student codpieces,

wants to play army — at a distance, of course, at a great distance,

but he wants to play.  He points in which direction, and now money is falling

on the heads of Erik and Joey and Billy and Red like money has

never fallen anywhere.  And they’re flying Blackwater

employees all over the place to

shoot and whoop and

holler:

Of course,

they’re boys from a homemade

fort in North Carolina playing like they’re real

cowboys, going where they ought not to be, and they make

a huge mess of it everywhere they go.  A couple of them get hung, chopped

up and charred, from a bridge in Fallujah.   A congressional investigation

concludes that they sent their employees into an

insurgent stronghold “without sufficient

preparation, resources, and

support.”

They

shoot up a square in

Baghdad and murder 17 innocent

Iraqi civilians, none armed, none threatening them.

They create thousands of pictures just like this

one, though not this one, but it’s emblematic

of all those identical, different

incidents:

Charges

follow, guilty pleas are

entered. They break every rule in the

book — secretly importing weapons, murdering people

who cross them by cooperating with investigations, paying bribes

to officials to quiet other investigations.  They have a

meeting in the fortified fort-of-forts and change

their name to Xe, thinking this will throw

the world off their bloody trail,

I guess.  (It’s pronounced

“Z” — you know, as

in “Zorro”.)

And now

it turns out that for a

long time Erik Prince wasn’t just a sad,

doofy torquewad playing army with an unlimited budget

and a bunch of equally unhinged buddies.  Dick Cheney — the treasonous

chickenhawking Dick Cheney — set him up with an even more unlimited set of

resources (money, identities, passports, immunity) to carry out his

highly illegal extra-judicial assassination work.  Prince was, in

the parlance, a CIA “asset”.  (Now that’s taking

“using words loosely” to a whole

new level.)

This has

recently come out because

Congress wants to look into things like

highly illegal extra-judicial assassination programs

run from treasonous chickenhawking Dick Cheney’s office.

Erik the Torquewad has a different explanation: “Prince blames Democrats

in Congress for the leaks and maintains that there is a double standard at play.

‘The left complained about how [C.I.A. operative] Valerie Plame’s identity was

compromised for political reasons. A special prosecutor [was even]

appointed. Well, what happened to me was worse. People

acting for political reasons disclosed not only

the existence of a very sensitive

program but my name

along with

it.’”

And

there, in a sentence

or two, is why I’d like Erik Prince

to go jack off in his hat.  Valerie Plame was an

undercover CIA agent and director of national intelligence who

maintained a double identity and served our country

honorably for two decades.  Her identity was

revealed in an act of

treason.

You, Erik,

were a doofy torquewad

breaking every law in the book for treasonous

masters who broke every law in the book.  You’re part of

the so-called Christian Army  – that band of buffoons led by the

likes of David “Give Me Billions and I’ll Pay the Enemy Not to Shoot Us

For a While and then We’ll Boast about how the Surge Worked” Petraeus

and Stanley “Pat Tillman Was Killed by the Turrible, Turrible

Enemy, Let’s Give Him the Nation’s Third Highest

Military Honor Even Though

I’m Lying About That”

McChrystal.

The ones

who have by and large

successfully turned the formerly

honorable American military into a murderous horde of religious

mercenaries who believe their mission is to eradicate Mooslims

on behalf of Jesus Christ.  What a hoot!  Killing

for Jesus.  That’s one always

cracks me up.

You’re

fucking retarded, Erik Prince.

Forgive me for saying it — I know you’re a billionaire

and you have forty or a hundred thousand very fit and lethal guys in

your employ who would happily come snap my neck for free just to curry favor

with you.  But you are in fact fucking retarded, and it would be excellent for both

you and the rest of the planet if you could wake up to that fact. (Also, if you sent

one of your lads my way, you would be calling in an airstrike on your own

position, in spiritual terms — you know, fellow father of

daughters, and all that. De Lawd is

mightier dan de

MP5, E!)

Here’s the

most wonderful news in the world,

my brother:  You don’t have to be retarded forever.

If you want to pull your head out of your ass in this lifetime,

it’s possible.  Maybe not even that hard.  Go read what Jesus really said

and disabuse yourself of the pathetic notion that you’re serving his life and

teachings by playing cowboys-and-indians and assassins-and-Mooslims with

a nation’s tax money.  Go take a long look into the nature of religious wars

and how terrorist organizations are effectively ended.  Stop being

a colossal torquewad and doing all the torquewad things you’re

doing.  Do something different.  Sow a little peace, mofo,

like that of our radical-hippie turning-over- the-

moneychangers’-tables prostitute-loving

cheek-turning brother Jesus.  Let

your children see you become

a real man, here and now,

right before their

very eyes.