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Kissinger At 100

Neither of my parents were particularly religious but I do remember with perfectly clarity the last time I ever went to church. Father Thomas was the Episcopalian preacher who came into our two-hundred year-old church in PeeWee Valley and I remember him saying, ‘with enough time, all evil dies yet the Lord remains.’

Mind you that at age 14, I was an unannounced atheist to spare my evangelical grandparents the trauma of knowing their grandson was a heathen and I knew perfectly well that my mother would have fornicated with father Thomas in front of the entire congregation if she had the chance but *I* was there strictly for the coffee and eclairs. You had to be fast on the eclairs if you hoped to get one because those blue-haired Grendels were on them like flies on you know what.

Father Thomas was an extremely attractive man with fabulously quaffed hair. He looked like a hair model but when he said, ‘all evil eventually dies yet the Lord remains,’ I could not contain my hysterical nature and audibly scoffed in front of everyone. The next thing I felt was my mother’s heel digging into the top of my foot because if she had had a meat cleaver or baseball bat, I would have been a former human at that moment.

To appreciate this next series of moments you must know that at 13 years-old, my mother informed me and anyone living in the surrounding five counties that I was a ‘son of a bitch.’

Naturally and of course I retorted, ‘you just called yourself a bitch.’

My mother was not one to ever employ corporeal punishment but there were rare exceptions and this was once of them. Her favorite implement to spank me with was the Wooden Spoon of Destiny. It had a thin handle and a broad head for maximum coverage and I do remember her repeating to me many times that she had bought her ‘collection’ in Amsterdam and that she was quite fond of said spoons which had fallen pray to the dishwasher gremlins over the years to the point where she once announced to me and my sisters, ‘if any of you dumb sons of bitches ever put one of my wooden spoons in the effin dishwasher again, you’re gonna get it.’

We all knew what that meant but I was the only one who didn’t care.

Mom of course was incensed that I had mocked her which wasn’t true, she had mocked herself and pointing that out to her did not make her shall we say, ‘happier.’ She was angry, very angry which made it that much funnier to me. I wasn’t particularly shy about laughing as she summoned the Spoon of Destiny.

She had to tell me to ‘turn over’ for this classic ass-whippin’ to commence.

“I didn’t call you a bitch! YOU DID!”

Now I know what you’re thinking, it was not wise to incense my mother to that particular point where she would have ended my life but you don’t know wooden spoons like *I* know wooden spoons, especially those garbage Dutch kind.

She got in one good whack as I felt the Spoon of Destiny snap in half and tumble into the bathtub. I couldn’t stop laughing which enraged her even more.

‘Goddamnit you little shit! You just broke my favorite spoon!’

She gave me one more swat with her hand on the behind before recoiling in pain.

I turned to hug her and said, ‘it’s okay Vern, I won’t let you call me a dumb son of a bitch again.’ Then I kissed her hurt hand as she whimpered in pain.

Afterwards we’d go out and see groups of wooden spoons for sale and I’d say, ‘these ones are made in America so they’ll last longer’ and that’s when she informed me that I was also a bastard.

‘Thomas, I heard you scoff during my sermon today, was there something you wanted to share with me?’

My foot was still smarting a bit and those old bags got to the eclairs before I did so I was in a pissy mood despite my mother giving me the look of death, ‘Actually father, about that comment about evil dying, I just thought I’d remind you that H.R. Haldeman and Henry Kissinger are still alive so there goes your theory about evil dying while the Lord remains.’

My mom had long forgotten about corporeal punishment but it was at this exact moment that she discovered what a conniption fit was. I could almost see her skull come unhinged and split in half as fire shot from the top of her head. I wasn’t sure if she wanted to castrate me, kill me or both but with hindsight, I think both is the answer.

She wanted to fight me because she still had the hots for Father Thomas who was married and she might have cracked my skull open if she had a bat to do so but the more pressing problem for her was that she knew I was right. She also knew this was the end of her hopeful dalliance with Father Thomas. We never returned to church again.

I remember reading the books on Winston Churchill and even the ones he wrote, “The Last Lion” and “A History of the English-Speaking Peoples,” and I was quite taken as a teen with him being such a monumental man but then I read the books of real historians who made it too clear that Churchill was a genocidal, racist and incorrigible thief.

I felt the same about Kissinger, too, before I bothered to read the less illuminating history of that bastard. My father didn’t know what a bastard he was, and neither did a lot of the people on the planet before tidbits of classified material started coming out to show what an impossibly drunk-on-power sadist he was who indiscriminately killed hundreds of thousands of Laotians who never did a damn thing to America.

Neither did Vietnam for that matter, and the Nobel Committee soiled itself by giving that amoral scumbag the Nobel Prize for ‘ending’ the Vietnam War. Saying Kissinger tried to ‘end’ the Vietnam War is like saying you turned a lion into a vegetarian.

He killed as many in Cambodia, and now that I live in Southeast Asia, I appreciate the grotesque obscenity that the Nobel Committee soiled itself with forever because nobody in the damn Pentagon had ever bothered to read a book about the history of Southeast Asia before they concocted the Gulf of Tonkin incident that never happened.

It was merely the figment of imagination from some assholes in the Pentagon who were never tried at the Hague for Crimes Against Humanity and the first person who should have been tried on their list is Henry Kissinger.

Several historians have tried to keep account of how many people died because of Henry Kissinger’s megalomaniacal evildoing and the best guess anyone has put together is between two and three million. That includes women and children.

Kissinger’s evil spread all over the globe into Chile, where he instructed Pinochet that if he had to do ‘things’ they needed to be done quickly. The ‘things’ he was talking about was the murder of 30,000 people.

There was also a similar edict to Suharto of Indonesia who liquidated the island of East Timor which killed another 100,000 people.

Kissinger was a Harvard graduate and professor but he, like the other troglodytes running the Pentagon, never bothered to learn that the Vietnamese *hated* the Chinese, and would never fall for communism. That goes for Laos and Cambodia as well. A Harvard-trained professor and national security advisor never bothered to read a single history book about Southeast Asia before getting 50,000 American soldiers killed here for absolutely nothing.

The Vietnam War accomplished nothing but establishing the United States as War Criminals and how that lying sack of shit gets to hobnob around the planet with Hillary and the Bilderberg Group like he is someone to be listened to makes me physically ill.

Father Thomas died from cancer about 30 years ago and today Henry Kissinger turns 100 years-old.

So on days like today, I want to ask Father Thomas, ‘where the fuck is the Lord?’

Probably trying to glue my mom’s Spoon of Destiny back together or cowering in the corner afraid of real evil like Henry Kissinger.