Pierre & Pam Omidyar: GirlyCretinMan & Hypocrite of the Century? Chapter the Fifteenth of “Eat the Rich & Share the Wealth”

June 30th, 2010

I realize that

we’re only ten years into

a century that’s going to be, give

or take, one hundred years long, but I

trust that when you read what’s written here

you’ll agree that we can preemptively award the

GirlyCretinMan & Hypocrite of the Century awards,

respectively, to His Royal Hiney the Baron Pierre von Omidyar

and Her Royal Hiney the Baroness and Grand Panjandrum Pamela von

Omidyar. This is a strange and terrible tale which includes a man without testicles

who claims to have fathered three children; a poor and modest black girl who grows

up to become of the most hypocritical Wealthy White Folks in human history; the

army of Blackwater-like goons which reaches across the planet to service their

diabolical appetites; a corrupt small-town police department working as their

ancillary censorship and strong-arm department; an altogether despicable

and revolting collection of goatporn; a possible denial-of-service

attack on this very website; the murder by shooting,

drowning, and flaying of some individuals just

as admirable as the others just mentioned

are creepy; and little old me.

You should probably

make a pot of tea. This is disturbing, sordid stuff.

Put on the kettle and sit in a comfy chair and

listen to Raul Malo while

the water boils –

Remember your own

angel-flying-too-close-to-the-ground

nature: know that you came to this planet to

take an unvarnished look at what goes on here — you

surely wouldn’t be reading this blog otherwise — and steel

yourself. In what follows, a dark log will be overturned. Scorpions

and poisonous millipedes will scurry. The smell of death will waft. Rivers

of blood will flow, cretinous cops will ooze slimy fluids, three lovely little Arab

American children will discover that their parents are not at all what they

seem. If you want to put a teddy bear, a large caliber handgun, and

a vomit bucket next to your chair before reading on, that’s

probably a good idea. You may need all of them.

(And if you need to catch up

on the first fourteen chapters of “Eat the Rich

& Share the Wealth” first, they’re here:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14)

* * *

One recent night,

not a dark and stormy one though

that would serve our tale, someone was pounding

on my door very loudly — not like you or I would knock, but

as if they hoped to give the hinges a vigorous airing-out. This was

aggrovoking on three counts — as a simple (“minded”, some would add)

taoist poet, I like a quiet life; I am tired and weak as a result of my now fourteen

day hunger strike to protest the tyrannical refusal of the Baroness von Omidyar to save

the admirable individuals alluded to above from violent and grotesque deaths; and

my beloved hound is dying of metastatic melanoma at my home, a process I wish

to proceed peacefully. Amidst the frame-rattling and some frantic barking and

coughing of blood and mucous, I went to the door and looked through

the peephole. Not a soul could be seen. I could hear the crackling

and jabber of police radios, though. Never fond of opening

my door when people with guns are hiding behind

things outside, I sent an email to the

chief of police to inquire

what the hey.

I got this email back

from one of his sergeants late yesterday

afternoon, after a day of watching as Baron Pierre von Omidyar’s

intelligence goons crawled through my electronic life (more

on that later).  This email image, like all the other images

on this site, can be enlarged for readability

by simply clicking on them.

I wrote back and

the following conversation

took place: