Monday, December 31, 2012

the fiscal cliff

The shit was never real, it was political Kabuki theater. Suck it.

2012 was the year...

This was quite a year for me, perhaps a watershed in some ways, but one that will at least allow me to truly move forward in my life and to be a free of the terrible stress expediting the completion of a historical account. There are no rules for that, and only a few guidelines. In the end, you're the only one who knows what you experienced, and even then, that's not always a given. You know what you were told. You know what information was conveyed to you. You know what you experienced during these interactions, but they're fragmented, obscured, and questionable in one way, completely credible in others. That's navigating a labyrinth. 

This wasn't just 2012 for me, it was the last five years of my life. What was real? I discovered many things that were, many more that were not, and more than all that combined that remains a mystery to myself and others. The terrible part is to then extricate yourself from the narrative continuum to continue on with your own life. There are apparently some out there who don't want this to happen, but I have news for them. It is going to happen.

I'll promote the book, and I'm open to interviews, all that's fine. However, I won't be dragged into other people's agendas, and there have already been attempts to do this, right out of the gate of the release of Let the Dead Bury the Dead. When else would it occur? There will be more. Interestingly, the phony cease and desists have halted, a form of harassment that I've experienced from the beginning of my involvement with Jeane's case to the present, several months ago, then once more just weeks ago. The fact that they've now become silent in their legal harassment from the shadows tells me what I always assumed: it was all predicated on scaring me out of publication. That was never going to work in a nation where prior restraint has been ruled unconstitutional so many times that it's solid precedent. A first year law student would know this, and so too would many millions outside of legal profession. Were I to discover their identity, I could sue them in a civil court, and maybe even hit them with criminal charges of harassment--that is, if it's not the government, then the funhouse rules come into play.

Is this a story many don't want to be told, Jeane's story, the information that I and others came into possession of? It was uncanny how often the information was coming to me, not the reverse. There were many times that Jeane would mistakenly send me entire email-chains between herself and counsel and others, and doing so when I wasn't even part of the defense as a researcher. Was she trying to let me bear witness? Sometimes, she was, unquestionably, but I don't think the chains always were. When she Cc'd her exchanges with journalist Jason Leopold, whom I bear no ill will mind you, she was most definitely doing this. There were other occasions, sometimes to bounce my opinion off of things counsel was conveying to her. What did I think of this crafted motion? Did I trust counsel? Did I know more about their and numerous other players' backgrounds, sometimes collective, interconnected ones? The answers were always varied. Sometimes I was able to find out, many other times, she was simply asking the impossible out of desperation. This all had to be written down and chronicled before it gradually vanished from my memory, and the memory of others, because so much is lost to history when this kind of action isn't taken immediately. It escapes into the Aether, subsumed by darkness, assimilated into the Abyss. You can bet that a lot more is sitting on a hard drive at some "fusion center" in the continental United States. An FOIA isn't going to free it up anytime soon.

I'll continue to answer questions to the best of my ability on the subject, because I think it was a far more important case than most of us realized at the time. It took a great deal of after-the-fact research on my part, a lot of reflection on what happened when Jeane was alive, what my role, my place, in it all really was, and to question, question question, and that includes myself, my assumptions. It turned out that many of my earliest ones were either correct, or that I was on the right trail.

The public has a right to know what's being done in their name and how their taxes are being spent. This is why my account is important. Besides being a historical chronicle for the historical record, it can be a starting-point for further inquiry. Because of the information I came across, I'm not naive enough to believe that this is going to happen. Our political system is in what I consider terminal crisis that's borne out of the natural lifecycles of democratic societies. They have a shelf-life, and we're around the time of the expiration date. 

The cycle, as one would imagine, is a circle. I recommend looking at the democratic and republican experiments in ancient Greece and Rome. Western societies appear to begin with warrior king leadership that grows into some general form of feudalism, then to forms of republicanism where it's primarily based around land ownership, often headed by a senate, some parliamentary structure, and on into wider forms of democratic franchise, popular democracy of some sort. Unfortunately, and the ancients saw this firsthand, democracy is also the most fertile soil and prerequisite for tyranny, either by the masses or a dictatorship. Because the general population is usually uneducated, ignorant, stubborn--holding all the human frailties related to pride--there's a tendency towards an overemphasis on the military. Appetites, often arising out of inequality, must be fed in order to rule, and so, it's not simply leadership that demands empire, it's the people, the working-class wage slaves, the populi, the plebes. Military adventurism becomes a virtual inevitability. 

Because of the social reality of a minimum degree of democratic rights, the franchise, the vote, a say in how things are done, we must have bread and circuses, the mob must be placated and diverted away from a real voice in the operation of society ruled by some form of aristocracy. More often, people want to be told what to do thinking that it's easier, and too often, they want a strongman leader to show them the way. Sadly, I see us at the end of this cycle and heading towards dictatorship. The American public will hold just as much of the blame as the current rulers when things disintegrate into this. Can something better arise out of this? Eventually, if we can survive. The Greeks are still waiting for democracy, so there's a good idea of how long it might take.

Do I see much change in our course in the United States, to avert what no other democratic society was able to endure, besides maybe the Swiss? No, I'm afraid not. We're going to continue our military adventurism, until there's no more money left in the Treasury--what happened to Athenian democracy--or someone creams our ass, more likely a combination of both, which has many precedents. Democracies die of neglect. When the 17th and 18th century liberal thinkers spoke of revolution, it was as a warning, not a threat, that there must be reform or that things will collapse into chaos and violence. This is what the social contract is about. We either work together, looking out for each others' well-being, or we will surely die together. Apathy and indifference towards others is a ticking bomb, and it's why I have a serious problem with American Libertarianism, a subject barely worthy of comment for its obvious irrationality. Thinkers such as John Locke were saying that breakdowns of order happen when a society becomes so dysfunctional from misrule, and the missing-ingredient is the public, that people begin killing each other. But the public too often is unaware of their power. They're apathetic, divided over petty squabbling, generation after generation, making the exact same mistakes. Worse still, the public is very often wrong like their rulers. Now, you, the thoughtful reader, will know why my book is only going to reach so many people. The truth hurts. And now on to other related things that happened in my life this year...

2012 was the year that I:

...finished and published the manuscript of my experiences in the DC Madam case (and beyond it, stories never end, or ever die). Let the Dead Bury the Dead can be traced back to an exchange in the New Testament between Jesus and a disciple who said that he needed to bury a loved one before he could go with them on the road. I was unaware of this at the time I decided on the title. It has become an idiomatic phrase throughout the world over the centuries, and there is no agreement on what Jesus meant by it. Some say he meant to let the spiritually dead bury the physically dead in a dead, fallen world. Others say that it means to move on from the past, to not dwell on it, to not live in the past. I don't claim to know what he meant or originally said, but I think all the meanings relate to me and the book. This is when you begin to realize that you've hit on some very fundamental truths, and not merely artistic truth, but truth itself. So much of this has been serendipity to the point that it cancels itself out, it is no longer coincidence, but the truth, however terrible, liberating, or great. I can only feel humbled by it all.

...was asked to research the Wikileaks StratFor emails cache, along with many others of course. This didn't come to be, unfortunately, over technicalities I'll go into one day. To be asked was very exciting. My opinion of Assange is yet to be finalized. On an interpersonal level, I'm sure he can be a pushy asshole. On the other hand, it's probably worth it to kick people who aren't serious to the curb, which he has done on numerous occasions. The amount of information coming out of governments around the world? I can tolerate a lot there. The people Wikileaks is working against are the worst in the entire world.

...began watching the great works of cinema as much as I'd been wanting to for a very long time, and when I purchased a Blu-ray player when my old DVD-player croaked. Watching a cinematic classic in HD is maybe one of the few great technological achievements of the current era. If it serves the dissemination of the arts, information of value, in a better way, I'm all for it. There is nothing more important than cultural expression when it's the truth.

...noticed that for some reason I'm aging well. This is probably because I rarely drink and smoke and get regular exercise. Why stress didn't contribute more might have to do with the fact that my family has naturally low blood pressure. The other good side is that the more I grow older, the great my resemblance to Oscar Wilde, and that's not a jest.

...realized how wonderful my mother's parents really were, and how their home is truly my home. America is my home, I cannot leave her. As fucked up as she is, I still love her, or I wouldn't be trying to save her from herself. At some point, it doesn't matter what the odds are. You must act out of decency and honor, armed with knowledge and a sense of persistence and the long view.

...found that many of my fellow Americans are a pathetic embarrassment that far exceeded my worst opinions of them. This includes many Democratic voters and supporters who refuse to criticize the president for committing war crimes and wrecking the Constitution, all but gutting the 4th Amendment, the right to privacy. He has yet to restore habeas corpus. We are not facing the threat to public safety and order that President Lincoln had to when Southern politicians and officers committed treason over his election in 1861. Why doesn't anyone become alarmed by this? Congress just re-authorized the NSA's warrantless wiretapping program for another five years. See how well they can all get along when they want to? What the hell's wrong with the public, where's the outrage over these encroachments on our rights? Much of it is ignorance, but it's also the desire for a strongman leader who has "taken-off the gloves," who is no longer restrained by the law. These people are the worst kind of citizens of any society, in any era of human history, and are scoundrels. Many American look at politics like it's a football game. This makes these people incredibly stupid assholes.

...realized how much I value living outside of cities in what could be best described as a "light rural" area. I've been here for over a decade now and love the lack of many people.

...realized what a genius Pier Paolo Pasolini truly was, one of the greatest artists in the span of Western civilization.

...installed my Tor browser (thanks Wikileaks). I suggest everyone do the same and to learn more about encrypting your online communications. to know my wonderful niece Zofia better. Picking her up from the bus stop every day for the first five months of the year is something that I'll always treasure. It showed me a little window into how my late grandparents, especially my mother's mother, loved spending time doting over us. She's a great kid, very intelligent.

...learned that blood not only isn't thicker than water, but that it's often the consistency of liquid-shit.

...remembered why I hated school, church services, and anything so boring that it begins to kill your soul: it's someone controlling your life, and wasting your precious time.

...recalled what an inhuman asshole my ex-wife really was in-sum.

...learned how much I love our new miniature schnauzer, Lily.

...found a lot of old books I thought I'd lost.

...stopped trusting almost anyone outside of my family and a small circle of friends.

...felt vindicated when former Penn State assistant coach Jerry Sandusky was found guilty on over forty counts of being a pedophile. For anyone who's been a victim of this, you know what I mean. I'm hoping the SOB gets shanked in prison, or beaten to death. There's no reason to show mercy to these terminally-pathological pieces of shit. They should be watched and tracked all of the time once they've been identified by society.

...saw the combined effects of de-institutionalization of the mentally ill and the wide-availability of heavy weaponry on the lives of 20 schoolchildren, and six of their adult caretakers, in Newtown Connecticut. The time to reopen our state mental health institutions is now. We have no real mental healthcare system, and it must be part of a socialized medical infrastructure. 

...still hate the idea of ever going back to Seattle for any reason.

...was reminded that most so-called "upstanding citizens" are more criminally-minded than so-called "criminals." To be accused is not to be guilty. We have something called the right to due process. The public and the press seem to have no concept of this. Put the 6th Amendment on the same critical-list as the 4th, and more recently, the 1st with the attacks on dissent and independent journalism.

And there was more. There was a lot more. Wish us all luck in the next year, because we're going to need it.

Sunday, December 23, 2012

an open letter to former pamela martin & associates escorts

Ladies, if I may be so forward, or so foolish, to address you as such:

You turned your back on Jeane. Maybe she wasn't the nicest human being to work for, but she was a human being, and you either knew or should have known what you were getting yourselves into. The fact that somewhere in the range of fifteen of you turned snitch to save your skins was despicable in light of how well you were paid. Admittedly, I only know so much about how you were treated, yet none of you were willing to come forward to educate me and others on any of the details but one, the woman who courageously attempted to establish contact with Ken Silverstein when he was an editor at Harper's. That woman was a hero and she has my deepest regards and respect.

As for the rest of you, the others that went into hiding, believe it or not, I get it. That being said, it doesn't excuse your kicking the late Ms. Palfrey to the curb. Many of you had moved on after more than a few years, and that's a good out, it's fair. Nonetheless, a number of you, the ones who testified against her, are scoundrels. You own a piece of her death, you are rats, scum, filth, indirect killers. I despise you. 

You see, what a number of you did helped bring PMA to its knees and Jeane to hang at the end of a rope. You are Judases. Not a lot of you were in any specific need to become escorts--there was little desperation involved in it, more a desire for a soft, materialistic life that you felt entitled to. That doesn't make you much different from the rest of the entitled whores that overpopulate this country, but it makes you lower than a streetwalker who's run out of options and finds themselves in the profession. Yes, I don't want to see the government and some of the elements you serviced victimizing you further, there's no point to that, and there's been enough suffering in all of this. But the fact remains that some of you, some of the over one hundred and thirty escorts that worked for PMA over the years, are going to have to live with what you did.

I was fair to you in my book, maybe too fair. But don't expect that I was letting you all off-the-hook completely, because I didn't. For the dozen-plus of you who turned informant, you have no sense of honor. It pleases me that this will cause you a certain degree of pain for the rest of your natural lives. A woman died, as you know, as we all know, and there's no going back from what happened. My hope is that some of you learned something from this and changed, but I'm not an optimist about people and their ways. My assumption is that this will haunt some of you psychologically in some way, yet it won't result in any real shift or transformation in who and what you are, selfish pigs, and that you're going to continue on your merry, indifferent ways just as before. How lovely for you.

Some idiot claiming to be one of you, Andrea Detty, made a limp attempt at undermining the book by suggesting that I hadn't contacted you, therefore, how solid could my attempt to chronicle what happened. That wasn't my job. My job was to tell what I experienced and learned, my part of the puzzle and to try to make as much sense of that as I could. That included obtaining more information. A lot of this was so that I was able to move on from my role in the last year of Jeane's very short life. That kind of an attempt is the act of a scoundrel, a liar, and a psychopath, exactly what I'd expect out of a genuine informant. There's nothing lower than that. Who is this magical person or persons that was able to speak extensively with the former escorts? If they exist outside of a government job, they're sitting on it, and at this point, now that a lot of the smoke has cleared, their behavior is incredibly unethical. I put out requests long ago on this blog for information from you women with no results whatsoever. The onus is on you. It wasn't even a nice try, "Andrea."

You women are the past, and what's past is prologue. I you want to clarify things, great, then do it, otherwise, shut the fuck up, forever, you have no legs to stand on, no credibility.

I could go on endlessly about you, but let me sum it all up: life is short, and the truth will one day come to light. One day we'll know precisely who the worst were, who were the heroes, who at least tried under terrible circumstances to do what was right at the time, and really, who the fucking animals were. Jeane is dead, and I am one of the caretakers of her legacy, one of the few who can bring her voice back from the grave, one of the only people in the world who can at least begin the process of allowing her to point her dead hand at the guilty. There never be a place to run. There is no place to hide from a sun that never sets. Dwell on that for the holidays.

Matt Janovic

Friday, December 21, 2012

dc madam trial transcripts

Ed.--These files are not complete, although they're complete within themselves. There is no voir dire. I also believe the evidence was poorly documented, but it wasn't necessary to the documents. Insofar as I know, this will be the first time anyone, anywhere online has uploaded these for public consumption. Read 'em and weep, I did. The trial was a farce, hence why the transcripts aren't readily available, in my opinion. I don't give a shit who has a problem with it. The bottom document is related and covers a lien placed on Jeane's former residence over legal bills. Once again, you may not have fries with that.

 March 19, 2008 pretrial hearing (.txt file):

December 10, 2008 Court lien order over Palfrey estate legal debts to Montgomery Blair Sibley (PDF):

Postscript, 12.22.2012:  Does any of this read like a real trial where Anglo-American principles of justice were being applied? If so, I have a bridge and swampland to sell you. What the hell was Preston Burton thinking beyond having to work with his peers again after this bullshit charade? This is where Sibley was at least genuinely adversarial. What did Burton do to convince Jeane to lay down and die, to agree to mounting no goddamned defense at all? 

To be fair, and I can only look at this as a layman, his cross-examinations of the witnesses were solid, appropriate, what you'd expect, but little more was done beyond that. Was he on the side of the defendant at all? This wasn't a trial, it was theater, the political kind, to cover for the GOP and various selfish interests. Shame. Pathetic. This is how not only democracy dies but the human race. You got it: no one gives a shit. RIP America.

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

a message to agents of control

In the immortal words of Genesis P-Orridge, who I literally bumped into at the Empty Bottle in Chicago in 2004 after being ogled by Ministry-alumnus Chris Connelly: fuck you.

To the little turd(s) that attempted feebly to intimidate me into not releasing this book--fuck you. To the GOP, and everyone who voted for them--fuck you. To everyone who ever fancied themselves members of the Tea Party--fuck you.

And to all you ugly American motherfuckers who think whistleblowing is unpatriotic, all you racists, you liars, you criminal scumbag fucks--fuck you, forever. You were never alive. You're all husks. You will die, there will be no happy hunting grounds, no afterlife, only more death. What more could I do to you that you haven't already done to yourselves, your families, your neighbors?

You've made me fall in love with mortality to the point that when death comes, I'll shove my tongue hard down the fucker's throat, simply to be away from you, forever. Happy holidays!

songs from the sitemeter: in russia...

I commented on this before, but wow, interesting, and hello to my Russian readers!

Here's the gist: there are nearly as many Russian readers of this blog as Americans. I'm still trying to process this to understand why. If any of you can enlighten me, I'd be very pleased. Either way, it's pleasing in itself.

What can I say except that I feel the US and Russia are so similar, what with both nations being oligarchies and police states? Shhhhh, I know, don't tell the little people here in A'murka that, especially the ones who still have purchasing power...

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

a message to a certain class of people in let the dead bury the dead

I will be pushing this book into forever, if only casually. Other than Mr. Sibley and couple of others in it, you're going to have to buy the book to find out what I wrote about you, most of which is my opinion, the rest fact. Your hunches are correct: the fact that some of you are going to have to buy it to find out delights me to no end, fuck you very much. I'm not naming names here. You know who you are. My book aside, I hope you do for your own sake know who you are.

Psst! let the dead bury the dead is also available at...

You can also find the book at, which was purchased by Amazon a few years ago. I'm not 100% certain, but I think buying it there means slightly more royalties for me, hint-hint:

I don't do windows. You may not have fries with your tritium.

Let the Dead Bury the Dead is now available in the EU!

And here it is for the UK:
Amazon France:

Amazon Germany:

And Amazon Italy:

Wednesday, December 05, 2012

once again: it's fortune cookie exegesis time

A trinket/reach-around from the recent raping of my digestive system at a nearby Chinese eatery: "People may doubt what you say [,] but will believe what you do."

Ratiocination: this is actually a sage observation, cricket-head. Listen to what people do, not what they say. This cookie came 49 years too late for Lee Harvey Oswald, poor guy...

Upcoming Book Contest & Other issues from the flesh

I haven’t worked out all of the particulars yet, but I’ve set aside a few copies of the book for later. As you might have expected, I’m not making the parameters effortless, or easy for the contest. There will be a few hoops, but the winners will receive a free signed (as opposed to singed, what some of Palfrey’s former clients probably want) copy of the book, and my blessing, the latter of which means absolutely nothing whatsoever. Anyone capable of proving the DC Madam doesn’t need anything from me, not that I think that’s ever going to happen, like Jesus returning, nutty, crazy primitive-minded shit like that.

We’re only in the first week of the release of the book and I’ve already brushed up against more high weirdness. This brings me to other matters…

As a result of these little elves, pixies, and gremlins flitting about me yob, I’m going to make things crystal clear: I will not continue to live this nuttiness surrounding the Palfrey case and narrative. I am turning my back on it with the completion of this text. I will be more than happy to answer any serious questions. However, I don’t want to hear your gossiping about people who were part of or related to the case itself. Any logical corrections that can be proven/corroborated (your job, not mine) will be appreciated and noted. I don’t give a shit anymore about the story and owe nobody nothing regarding the DC Madam. That responsibility was discharged writing the book.

My role in this is over, done, unless there’s some burning reason otherwise. If you have questions, ask the book first, consult it. This isn’t to slam anyone with good intentions. I will discuss the case and am open to interviews. However, I’m not tolerating any bullshit, and it’s literally no effort for me to ignore you, the easiest thing in the world in fact. This isn’t my usual jokiness, it’s dead serious. If you don’t get it, I don’t care, but you’re going to be humiliated twice, first by yourself, then by me, and I will air it publicly naming names.

Anyone I’ve communicated with recently has nothing to worry about. The book is the best bargain the American public are likely to have for some time. You’re most welcome. Witche, ye haave been foun' guilty 'a commerce with thee Devile.

"at the end of the day/The bottom line is..."

This is one for American management, the biggest losers of all time, the unwanted babies of modernity (and postmodernity), the essence of redundancy made flesh that's going to look like the joke that it is down the road, in the annals of our national history, and of the species.

I'm not even going to go into examples and contexts here, but we all know some douchnozzle who's spouted this line either as a preface to something more inane and meaningless, or an equally meaningless addendum, maybe a lame parting shot because they lack any wit. OK, that's untrue, because you only need to add a "t" to create the word that describes them best.

This is related to the more recent "mansplaining," by the way, since it emanates from the same crowd of stupid males who are constantly out of their depth, who lack any real intellect, but sure know how to spew crap from the wrong orifice. No, this isn't merely about your asshole boss at the office, or politicians, but it does start with domestic tyrants, people whose families would be doing the world a favor by beating them down every morning into their bowl of gruel, and with luck, drowning them in it, but really, doing anything to make them shut the fuck up for once in their unimaginably pointless lives. These are the assholes who killed God. He died of disgust, committed suicide: "I created that? Well fuck me..."

Diagram a sentence--if you dare--and you'll find that "At the end of the day" and "The bottom line is" add nothing to the meaning, try it some time, you'll see. That's never going to stop assholes whose souls died shortly after birth from spewing it. How else are they going to be the assholes they are? All it does is underscore their own lack of meaning and purpose in a universe that doesn't care because it can't. At least they're dead forever too. If they found a way around it, I'd be leading the mob of torch bearing villagers to drive a stake through their blackened hearts.