Interesting news out of Brazil today - apparently riot police were called in to manage a group of protesters who were demonstrating in support of the legalization of marijuana and, when the crowd of stoners became a bit unruly, they fired tear gas into the crowd in an attempt to get them to disburse. As the demonstration broke up as a result and red-eyed participants ran off in every direction, several of them were overheard saying, "Wow, man...that shit is really harsh. Must be that nasty sensimilla from Paraguay..."
Also in the news today; the mainstream press continues to report that al Qaeda has "elected" a new leader in the wake of the death of Osama bin Laden, as if these guys booked some rooms at the Islamabad Ramada Inn and, after a bracing continental breakfast of cardboard bran muffins, barely identifiable yellow slime labeled "scrambled eggs", and mystery meat sausage, they convened in the Nanga Parbat Room, sat in neatly lined up folding chairs listening to droning promises of "I promise to bring even more death to the great Satan, America than my opponent, al-Adel", blah, blah blah, they filled out their goatskin ballots and arrived at a winner, after which confetti rained down and rustic tea cups were raised in a mass toast to the newly elected leader's successful drive for worldwide bloodshed and random acts of violence. Huzzah...! I can almost see them singing Happy Days Are Here Again wearing straw boaters.
And in a final fresh blast of Kafkaesque theater, it was announced that Manuel Noriega's Panama mansion has once again found no takers in what must be an amusing scene at the auction house in Panama City. I hope you remember Noriega as the pock-marked penny ante despot and itinerate drug smuggler who was unfortunate enough to know where all the bodies were buried - literally and figuratively - in the then white hot Iran / Contra affair and who subsequently got unceremoniously shit-canned out of office by the US Marines at the behest of the Reagan / Bush syndicate and spent his last years rotting in a Miami prison cell while his attorney's pleaded in vain for him to be allowed to present evidence that the CIA knew he was laundering money for various drug cartels so it wasn't his fault. Now his abandoned Central American Versaille sits woefully in the richest section of Panama City, over grown and inhabited by squatters like something straight out of a Gabriel Garcia Marquez novel and his story will probably never see the light of day.
Ironically the mansion is in what is called the San Francisco district of the city and could be had for the bargain price of 2.5 million dollars, the price of a nice but not that nice house in Los Altos Hills but way below what it would take to buy one in Pacific Heights in the real San Francisco. However, it received no bids at the recent auction. Maybe folks remember that the Marines blasted it with death metal played over enormous loudspeakers 24 hours a day in an attempt to get Noriega to come out in the aftermath of the invasion and think the place therefore has bad juju. Location, location, location...
Also in the news today; the mainstream press continues to report that al Qaeda has "elected" a new leader in the wake of the death of Osama bin Laden, as if these guys booked some rooms at the Islamabad Ramada Inn and, after a bracing continental breakfast of cardboard bran muffins, barely identifiable yellow slime labeled "scrambled eggs", and mystery meat sausage, they convened in the Nanga Parbat Room, sat in neatly lined up folding chairs listening to droning promises of "I promise to bring even more death to the great Satan, America than my opponent, al-Adel", blah, blah blah, they filled out their goatskin ballots and arrived at a winner, after which confetti rained down and rustic tea cups were raised in a mass toast to the newly elected leader's successful drive for worldwide bloodshed and random acts of violence. Huzzah...! I can almost see them singing Happy Days Are Here Again wearing straw boaters.
And in a final fresh blast of Kafkaesque theater, it was announced that Manuel Noriega's Panama mansion has once again found no takers in what must be an amusing scene at the auction house in Panama City. I hope you remember Noriega as the pock-marked penny ante despot and itinerate drug smuggler who was unfortunate enough to know where all the bodies were buried - literally and figuratively - in the then white hot Iran / Contra affair and who subsequently got unceremoniously shit-canned out of office by the US Marines at the behest of the Reagan / Bush syndicate and spent his last years rotting in a Miami prison cell while his attorney's pleaded in vain for him to be allowed to present evidence that the CIA knew he was laundering money for various drug cartels so it wasn't his fault. Now his abandoned Central American Versaille sits woefully in the richest section of Panama City, over grown and inhabited by squatters like something straight out of a Gabriel Garcia Marquez novel and his story will probably never see the light of day.
Ironically the mansion is in what is called the San Francisco district of the city and could be had for the bargain price of 2.5 million dollars, the price of a nice but not that nice house in Los Altos Hills but way below what it would take to buy one in Pacific Heights in the real San Francisco. However, it received no bids at the recent auction. Maybe folks remember that the Marines blasted it with death metal played over enormous loudspeakers 24 hours a day in an attempt to get Noriega to come out in the aftermath of the invasion and think the place therefore has bad juju. Location, location, location...
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