Behind the Bastards

It's called Operation Night Watch and it's a very racist pseudo self insert fiction story about the Navy Seals going to war with drug dealers in Dallas

Look at this cover. Hell yeah, the Invisible War I love that he probably hired Here's his face He was about 20 years older than that in looks by the time I met him

Again, I'm pretty sure he's gotta be dead. I had this job 17 something years ago It's kind of giving knock off dollar store Richard Gere Yeah, he does kinda look like dollar store Richard Gere I love that he hired someone to design that cover

That is the level of competency that you get when you hire someone who doesn't know what they're doing The publisher is NAJ Publishing Group Which I think is just a vanity press. I haven't heard of them What year was it published?

Let's see if this has a proper title page. 1997 It had a second printing in 99 It was edited by Victoria Lynn Scott Who, if I remember this book Was not very good at her job. My money is on vanity press

A part of this book has resulted from my fascination with special forces military tactics, especially Navy SEAL teams. The evolution of Navy SEAL teams from the forerunner underwater demolitions teams resulted in the creation of some of the most capable special warfare troops in the world. The only other special forces story that even comes close to the Navy SEALs is the special Israeli commando unit Sarek Maktal, simply known as the Chief of Staff's boys. That's what Netanyahu did as a young man, which unsurprisingly shows up in my second novel. I bet they do. Oh boy Al, I bet they do. Ooh, he's got a second novel. Yeah, I chose to use Navy SEALs in Operation Night Watch because their tactics fit perfectly into the chain of events. The other force in this book, gang violence, has become an ever increasing problem not only in the United States but in other parts of the world as well. While the book is fiction, many of the violent activities were based on similar events taken from stories in several large city newspapers. So while the book is fiction, the violence is very real. I've been asked what motivated me to write this book. Was it trying to hold some lofty moral standard to have a major impact on society, etc.? Truthfully, my main motivation, being an avid reader myself, was to have a book end the way I wanted it to. Aww. I want to thank my- oh yeah, anyway. And then it goes on to some personal stuff which I'm not gonna get into. But yeah. Oh, and he thanks God for helping him make his lifelong dream a reality. Thank God and the publisher you paid, Al. Yep. Which might also be you. The publisher, not God. He's a- and again, just since I- from knowing this guy somewhat, like, he's a pretty normal middle-aged, you know, at this point elderly Dallas dude, like obsessed with the Navy SEALs but not based on any point of knowledge but just because he sat up through a lot of, like, documentaries and read a couple of the books that Navy SEALs publish. I wonder how he would have- Was he, like, in Vietnam or anything? No, definitely not. No, Al Jones never heard a shot fired in anger in his life. This man did not go to Dallas. He lived in the north- he lived out kinda near Oklahoma and he drove to the Dallas suburbs in order to do his work. But he, like, avoided anything that looked like the inner city, like the plague. I am sure he kept a 1911 with a bullet in the chamber in the center console of his car at all times. Yeah. That's that kinda guy. Oh, and he wrote- he signed it. Margaret? To Billy, I enjoyed meeting you. Uh, that's nice. So, he may have handed this- Who'd you steal this book from? I bought it from Amazon. So, Billy- Oh, I was like- I don't know what names Robert's gone by. There were crates of this book in the office. I like that theory better. That back when you were a finance man's secretary, you went by- I was secretly living as Billy. I was really in the Syrett Moktal and I was- this was a deep cover Israeli intelligence operation to make sure that this middling financial advisor in suburban Texas wasn't interfering with our nefarious plans.

The long, battered, black 1970 Cadillac sedan slowly turned the corner onto Hickory Street. The sun momentarily reflected from the shiny chrome-plated .357 Magnum pistol. Like a shark stalking its prey, the car slowed as it neared the school playground, pulled close to the curb and stopped inside of the cracked and crumbling asphalt basketball court. Eight young men were in the middle of a spirited game of basketball on the old court. The street was quiet except for the sounds of the game. Mick McCord was deep in thought as he walked down Hickory Street towards the old schoolyard. He didn't notice the flash from the chrome pistol or the black sedan. Mick had planned the surprise visit for months. With a smile, his mind wandered back to the first time his cousin Timmy had visited the small farm north of Dallas near the Oklahoma State line. That's definitely where he lived. That's definitely a little early for a flashback, but he's a master. He can break the rules. Yeah, exactly, exactly. Much like Faulkner, for example. Writer Joyce. This book has a lot of Joyce-ian echoes in it. I'm imagining that Mick is masturbating through a hole in his pants pocket as he walks towards this basketball court.

The black car was partially hidden behind a tall oak tree. The driver reached across and nudged the young Hispanic holding the big gun. Not Hispanic man, not Hispanic boy, just the young Hispanic holding the big gun. The three passengers in the back scooted down in their seats. The boy seemed hesitant and reached up to wipe the glistening beads of sweat from his face. The driver turned to nudge him once again. The son glistened Is this the second time he said glisten in this part? Maybe not. The son glistened from a peculiar silver cross hanging from his left earlobe. You're gonna do it or not, the driver said softly. Oh yes, yes. He's Church of Christ so he does believe that Papist conspiracies include all of the gangs. The Pope is secretly running MS-13. Yeah, yeah, just give me a minute, okay? Give you a minute my ass. What's the matter? You not chicken or something? You wanna be a scorpion or not man? Oh my god, it's a gang initiation. Oh great. And they're the scorpions. And then immediately after that paragraph, next paragraph starts, although Timmy was only 8, he seemed older. Now we're getting more of Timmy's backstory. His mom fell for a drunken cab driver who worked at a fair. So this is his nightmare story of a family like your mom falls in love with a drunken cab driver she meets at Fair Park, she works as a convenience store clerk her husband's an alcoholic. Great stuff. Before finally abandoning the family altogether, the stepdad had often beaten Tim with a belt buckle during his drunken fits while Gertrude was at work. The beatings hadn't stopped with just Tim. Yada, yada, yada, yada, yada. Man, we just keep... Tim spends the summer with Mick, they become great friends. What a fucking like... what happens with the fucking gun? What happens with the gun? Why are we looping back like this now? Oh wait, no, here we go, here we go. So Mick goes to Navy boot camp and keeps writing with Timmy. We're now learning about Mick's backstory again. Oh, wait, they write each other? How do they... They're friends. They become friends when Timmy goes to the farm for a while to get away from his alcoholic, abusive dad. And Mick joins the Navy and he has a big special assignment in the Middle East. But the neighborhood declines while he's away doing his special assignment. The opportunity... he gets... he has an assignment in Iraq so we're not in Iraq at this point. This is the late 90s so I'm guessing it's either illegal or this is desert storm.

I'm on the edge of my seat. What could possibly happen? I hope that Mick is able to save the day and get justice for paralyzed Timmy Presumably paralyzed Timmy and the unnamed black boy who died No one cares about him. Why do you bring him up?

I hope that the president and his friends who all have are introduced as an indistinguishable storm of names win or lose re-election unclear to me if they're supposed to be worse than Storm at this point. I hope they do one or the other. I hope everyone has fun.

Storm the sick boy with cancer who skits to pretend to be in the Senate.

I hope that the gangs win and bring about peace on earth. That's what I hope happens.

I love that like the person who was like what if we get all the gangs together to talk and be like fuck that that'll never happen you fucking piece of shit liberal like I have actually been in places where the gangs have called truces and worked together. It's when cops murder people and they have to temporarily put aside their differences to like shut Baltimore down Yeah. Well Magpie Speaking of Baltimore, you have a podcast.

Not like Baltimore in any particular way Other than that Baltimore I presume has cool people doing cool stuff in it Yeah, the people who later invented the paramedics they did it in Pittsburgh but the guy started in Baltimore he started in Eastern Europe but he was in Baltimore for a while and sometimes I wear a Baltimore shirt while I record but people don't know it because my podcast cool people who did cool stuff is not available on video so if you're watching this on YouTube you're going to have to be like how am I going to listen to Margaret and the answer is that you have to use a podcast app but you can do it by listening to me every Monday and Wednesday with cool people doing cool stuff. You can do that and I don't have a shirt that says Baltimore but I'm often thinking about that song that I heard in The Wire What You Know About Baltimore Whenever someone says the word Baltimore that song comes into my head so there's some lore for Robert. Anyway, I have a novel it's called After the Revolution. You know it's a debut novel there's some things I would have written differently if I were writing it today but I can tell you one thing you generally know who is saying what because it's easy to include that in your book. But how many times did you use the word glisten?

I think at least a couple. Great. Probably glisten or two in there. Yeah. I'd imagine And Magpie, you have a book called The Sapling Cage which I can confirm is much better than Al Jones' Operation Nightwatch. Also, like an actual writer you were paid to publish it.

It's true It comes out in September from Feminist Press. If you are listening to this in the middle of June 2024 it is available for Kickstarter right now and if you're listening after that then it is either available for pre-order or regular order and it is about a young trans girl who becomes a witch and saves the world from people destroying magic and trying to institute a bad government. There's a lot of good spear porn in it too Not in the way that you are currently thinking No, like in the way of people using... because spears are cool weapons. God damn it.

You're right. I do have to qualify that I like spears. Me too. The podcast is fucking done because Robert's gonna say some shit See y'all soon. Bye.

Now I learned he was a piece of shit from the book Berlin Games by Guy Walters.

Brundage knew that if he wanted to succeed him, Jahnke, he would have to do exactly as the president and the vice president wished.

With the two men looking benevolently on Germany, Brundage decided that he would change his opinion to coincide with theirs.

It was nothing more than toadying. From this moment on, Brundage would do everything in his power to ensure that his masters were satisfied.

He met Jewish sports leaders who, under the watchful eyes of Nazi handlers, assured Brundage that conditions were not as the foreign newspapers were suggesting.

Brundage was further handicapped by his inability to speak German. So any inferences that the Jewish sportsmen may have made would have been blocked out by the Nazis.

By the time Hitler reached his seat at four or five p.m., there was no doubt that he was already the star of the Olympics.

These were his games now, not Ballet Latour's and most certainly not Kubertins as if to reinforce the not suffocation of the games.

The United States was one of the last teams to enter the stadium.

We were a total disgrace, recalled Joanna de Tuscan.

About 30 or 40 nonmembers of the team, fat with cigarette ashes on their clothes, marched at the head of the team.

Marty Glickman felt that the word marching was inappropriate to describe how the Americans proceeded.

American athletes don't march very well, he wrote.

We kind of moved in our usual loose gated walk.

At the team's head was Avery Brundage, who was neither fat nor a smoker and was one of the few who really did march.

As the Americans marched past Hitler, they removed their boaters and clutched them to their hearts, whereas other flags were dipped in honor of the Fuhrer, the Stars and Stripes remained resolutely aloft.

Marty Glickman recalled the moment when the team passed Hitler.

We looked up at the box where he was flanked by Gehring and Goebbels and Hess and Himmler and all the rest of the Nazi hierarchy.

And you could hear the comment run through our crowd as we were walking in.

Hey, he looks like Charlie Chaplin.

I want to actually first read you a summary of the whole trip by Oliver Helms and his book Berlin 1936, which I like less than Guy's book.

Brundage stayed in the capital of the Third Reich for six days, inspecting construction on the Olympic Stadium and other facilities, visiting a number of museums and generally enjoying life.

He had little time left over for meeting representatives of Jewish athletics when they told him that Jews were no longer allowed to join German sports clubs.

In Berlin, 1936, Oliver Helms writes of him, quote, His main qualification for this task was something completely different.

A conspicuous personal fascination with Adolf Hitler.

And his conversation with Cheryl, Hitler made no concessions.

Jews were not being discriminated against.

He lied. They were merely being treated as separate from the German people and thus could not be members of the German Olympic team.

Cheryl pressed the Fuhrer on the issue.

It was Germany's friend, he said, and wanted only the best for the country.

But if the Fuhrer insisted on this position, the IOC would take the games away from Berlin.

Hitler snarled that in that case, the Third Reich would stage a purely German Olympic Games.

So Rita told author David Vine in an interview for his book, Island of Shame, life there paid little money, very little, but it was the sweet life.

Rita gives his cause of death as sagrin, which is another Chagossian word and it means deep sadness.

She told David Vine, my life has been buried. It is as if I was pulled from my paradise to put me in hell. Everything here you need to buy. I don't have the means to buy them. My children go without eating.

According to Molini, he first tried to shoot the dogs with the help of CBs armed with M16 rifles. When this failed as an expeditious extermination method, he attempted to poison the dogs with strychnine. This too failed. Sitting in his home, overlooking a secluded beach in the Seychelles 33 years later, Molini explained to me how he finally used raw meat to lure the dogs into a sealed copra drying shed, the Calora fire. Locking them in the shed, he gassed the howling dogs with exhaust piped in from US military vehicles. Setting the coconut husks ablaze, he burnt the dog's carcasses in the shed.

I'm gonna quote from the book Island of Shame, a very appropriate title.

And I'm reading from Mark Curtis's web of deceit here.

A foreign office minute from 1965 recognizes policy as to certify the Chagossians more or less fraudulently as belonging somewhere else.

Another Whitehall document was entitled, maintaining the fiction.

The foreign office legal advisor wrote in January, 1970, that it was important to maintain the fiction that the inhabitants of Chagos are not a permanent or semi-permanent population.

One of the reasons I like Henry Winesack's book, Master of the Mountain, is that he reflects on the complex dimensions of this relationship with a line that I think is really useful to parsing out what's going on here on a moral level.

asked to reminisce about Jefferson. Several slaves summoned up warm memories of their master on the other side of the divide. However, Jefferson left no intimate account of the Monticello slaves.

In other words, members of the Hemings, Granger Evans families expressed affection for Thomas Jefferson. Jefferson relied utterly on these people for the health and safety of his family.

And based on the writing we left behind, never gave them a second thought beyond that. There's no real evidence he thought of them as people.

Pressing the come on, fam, button in Mass of the Mountain. Henry Wiencek writes Jefferson admitted mentioning that the Virginia legislature had liberalized the slave laws so as to enable individual owners to free people at will for Demunay would have then asked why persons of virtue and firmness had not yet freed their slaves, particularly why Jefferson had not freed his

Written in 1852 this is a set of three tracts that were probably published separately at first

1850s as well after Thomas Jefferson's death Richard hackle you

diverse voyages was written in

1582 which makes a lot more sense in context sorry

Hackle you who's the first professor of modern geography at Oxford was an early ideological

For more information on Leonard Peltier, you can listen to Margaret's podcast on the Lakota Nation and read In the Spirit of Crazy Horse by Peter Matthiesen.

In the book Master of the Mountain, Henry Winesick writes he had grown up with Jupiter, born at Shadwell the same year as he.

After the Civil War, visiting Northerner astonished at the story she had heard, asked a former slave how he could risk his life for the family that enslaved him.

The answer was that the slaves had not lost a sense of common humanity.

Often we left our own wives and children during the war in order to take care of the wives and children of our absent masters.

And why did we do this? Because they were helpless and afraid, while our families were better able to take care of themselves and had no fear when they saw their oppressors stricken with fear.

They did not rise up in vengeance, but offered help.

When Jefferson courted the beautiful Martha Wales, she he spent evenings by the fire with her father, old John, who undoubtedly talked business with the young suitor, discoursing on slaves in the peaks and valleys in the market for them.

A slave of his was expected to either be busy about the house or to be asleep, and he was very partial to the sleepy ones.

He thought these gentler than the wakeful ones and those who had enjoyed the gift of sleep were better for any kind of service than those who lacked it.

In the belief that his slaves were led into most mischief by their sexual passions, he stipulated that males should consort with the females at a fixed price but should never approach any other woman.

At the outset, when he was still poor and in military service, he found no fault at all with what was served up to him, declaring that it was shameful for a man to quarrel with the domestic over food and drink.

But afterwards, when his circumstances were improved and he used to entertain his friends and colleagues at table, no sooner was dinner over than he would flog those slaves who had been remiss at all in preparing or serving it.

He was always contriving that his slaves should have feuds and dissensions among themselves.

Harmony among them made him suspicious and fearful.

I do have what is for me the good book, Molly.

My copy of Nazis and the Occult by D. Skylar.

Great book.

I think this was published ... When did this edition come out?

1977 by Dusty Sklar.

And like, it's unclear if this is just bullshit or a thing he actually heard or witnessed. It may have just been a story that went around.

It seems to have originated this story in a 1953 book titled, The Complete, spelled in a weird way, Practical Joker by H. Allen Smith, who was a journalist and a comedy writer.

I thought I'd go on his show and beat him at his own game, but I blew it. I spent my time talking about the issues, civil liberties, and all that, and he talked about America. The trouble with Pine was that he was really, really good at what he did.

I have no mouth and I must scream

The Pale Heart of the Revolution

The material she used includes an account of a parent's evening where one of the mothers said that she stripped naked in front of her son so that he could inspect her.

In the process, the woman spread her legs to expose her private parts for his inspection.

This book took away my fear of being a failure and of being rejected, of being a negative biological variant.

In 1977, the sociologist Klaus Thewolwite published Male Fantasies, a two volume book that drew on the diaries of German paramilitary fighters and concluded that their inhibited drives, along with the fear of anything gooey, gushing or smelly, had been channeled into a new outlet, destruction.

The German Mother and Her First Child.

The child is to be fed, bathed and dried off. Apart from that, left completely alone.

the child will quickly understand that all he needs to do is cry in order to attract a sympathetic soul and become the object of caring. Within a short time, he will demand this service as a right, leave you no peace until he is carried again, cradled or stroked. With that, a tiny but implacable house tyrant is formed.

From the first minute of life, everything was done to encourage the inability to have a relationship. Anything that promoted relationships was forbidden because the main goal was not to let the relationship between the mother or parents and the child arise in the first place.

Bottle feeding should never take longer than 10 minutes. Breastfeeding no longer than 20 minutes. If the child strolls or dawdles, feeding or breastfeeding should be stopped. There is no food again until the next scheduled meal. If the child is hungry by then, firstly it serves him well and secondly he learns that he will have to hurry up next time.

Mother, tell me about Adolf Hitler.

Devy advanced V.D. Savarkar's thesis of Hindutva that India is a Hindu nation of Hindu people and only for Hindu people.

She claimed that Hindu society is India itself, called Hinduism the national religion of India, and suggested that Hindus should tell non-Hindus, "We represent India, not you. Therefore India is ours, not yours.

She urged Hindus to recover along with their national consciousness, their military virtues of old, to rebecome a military race.

There's a movie online by uh Nina Paley who's a female graphic artist who's amazing called Cita Sings the Blues, if you just google that, it's the whole movie's free.

It's one of those beautiful pieces of animation. It's why I went to India in the first place. Incredible movie.

One of the things that does really well is it has all these scenes where like individual like myths from like Hindu mythology are explained by like groups of people arguing about them.

If you actually go to India is how you learn about myths like if you talk about the myth of Cita and Rama to like a family everyone in the family you'll like it like multiple different versions of the story and people will argue with each other like it's not like Christian orthodoxy or whatever like it's very very complicated stuff but fascinating.