Introduction: The Bleeding Heart With Balls
Harold Hark
21 November 2003

E-mails of encouragement or disagreement normally go to the Flame and Acclaim page, but some of the hate diatribes go on and on, taking up too much space. They are obviously written with much zeal and it seems a pity to just ignore them altogether.

When I think of the men who write these explosions of bile, I can't help but think of the film "Invasion of the Body Snatchers," the one with Donald Sutherland and Brooke Adams. Out there in the garden night were all these sticky, pulsating pods fresh from the xenophobe's fear of outer space, whose mission it was to seek out human forms to absorb (while carefully excreting their souls) and then to rise and march into the conservative pre-dawn as one hive mind to rid the world of its troublesome humanity.

In the so-called real world (the one in which we are all socially conditioned robots, as opposed to a different real world where we could have been encouraged to see and hear and think for ourselves), it is almost certain that they are not pods from outer space. What we can be sure of is that they are uni-neuronic, entry-level larvals who, for reasons of our moral and intellectual lassitude, do indeed rule the world.

Life, with all its glorious possibilities for intelligence increase is beyond their toddler-based territorial demands. They just don't get it. And it looks like they never will.

But, like any grown-up, I can empathise with their tunnel-reality. I can even get down on all fours with them and play the game of strident egos. Which, as their left wing counterpart, is what I plan to do here.

By "left wing" I don't mean Marxism or Leninism or Socialism or Communism. People who still subscribe to these isms are just as reactionary as the other side. What I stand for is the "fair go" ... which, under John Howard, has become the "fair gone".

It is obvious that these podlings need help. And since I am supposed to be on the side of compassion and caring, it would be remiss, even cruel, to turn my back.

Thus I am herewith offering my services to help them out of the long, dark, booze-soaked night of their stubble-faced, flatulent, odorous, ignorant, existence.

NOTE: These are actual e-mails and not diatribes made up for the fun of it.

Harold, he's here to help!