Monday, January 7, 2013

Carlsbad Caverns; Earth's Asshole Welcomes Yours

   Like all of the parks in the National Park "system," Carlsbad Caverns is a fucking mess.
   The National Park system was the bright idea of Theodore Roosevelt, renowned socialist and part of the Roosevelt legacy for the Communization of America. The National Park System was a way to get this ball of Marxist horror rolling whilst - you like that word, "whilst"? - whilst decorating it with trees and lakes and blue skies and white snow and little bunnies hopping through the forest. It also guaranteed that commercializing these scenic vistas - or making them safe and comfortable and capitalistically viable and profitable and enjoyable and American, in other words - would never ever ever fucking happen. And so what we have today are European Style National Socialist Death Traps that you have to not only pay to enter, you are not allowed to be comfortable or well fed in them either until you fucking leave, assuming you are able to leave without being carried out.
   Carlsbad Caverns follows this pattern and tradition magnificently by making your exploration of a fucking cave a laborious, dangerous, primitive and primal ritualistic journey through a delightfully mystical and unicorn forest of dead dank stone and epochal seepage and unfumigatable eons of ongoing bat-contagion -  none of which items you can actually see because it is too fucking dark!!!
   Of course lights would "ruin it." That is always the favorite reason given for nothing ever getting done that would increase comfort and enjoyment at a National Park; "It would ruin it."
   Hey, pal; it's already fucking ruined. The National Park System under the careful and intelligent guidance of Teddy Roosevelt, took care of that. He had his fun fucking up the environment and shooting everything in it and living the high life for free at your expense, now you can go there and experience deprivation and pain and suffering, as is the case with all government programs. Customer service?...oh dear, how crass, what would Teddy Roosevelt say. He would say, "Why no-ho-ho, Wilbur.  We have to preserve this lovely terrain that can kill you in an instant from a thousand different quarters and you must suffer here, because I have declared it so."
   That "separation of powers" thing you think exists in our government?... for the record, you're the only one that thinks that. Because no one in Congress or the Judiciary opposed this stupid idea that Teddy The Genius Camper Roosevelt came up with for declaring certain scenic locations off-limits to human comfort and safety and forever free from commercial improvement and private maintainance. So now it will all remain uninhabited and inhospitable for eternity.
   Leave it to a fucking bureaucratic autocrat of the public sector to declare pain and suffering "a national treasure."
    Let me tell you what separation of powers really means. It means you have no powers and your "representatives" are omnipotent. At least over you. That's what it means.
   So Carlsbad Caverns is a hole 70 stories down into the ground that you are not allowed to see. However you are allowed to patrol along a path which is eternally wet and steep and which if you lose your footing you will plummet into an abyss so alienly terrifying HP Lovecraft would be hard put to properly describe it. And it will be your fault. Because the Park System says so.
   If you could stay in the caverns for any length of time, in, say, and of course God forbid, a hotel setting?....THEN it would be cool. The place cries out to the stars and to the gods for customer-satisfying amenities. Like, say....oh, what would be something useful, say maybe FUCKING SAFETY NETS??? MAYBE??? And forget about a fucking chair. Or a fucking coat. or a soda. Or a fucking "visit Carlsbad Caverns" insurance policy.
   Forget about it all, sucker. Carlsbad Caverns is a National Park. You go, you pay, you do what you're told, which is "do nothing fun or interesting and you keep your mouth shut about it or you stay out, this is our park not yours."
   And speaking about should see the layout across the way from the peons-only tourist building where you are allowed that has been built for the government staffers. It looks like the fucking Taos Hilton. They have the untrammeled highpoint of the terrain to view the vast vistas of Southeastern New Mexico far below for a 20 year stretch of doing absolutely nothing but making your visit a royal pain in the ass -  plus retirement and medical benefits -  at your expense, you being the sap on the narrow steep slippery path into darkness and cold and "please keep moving" bullshit. Meanwhile you get to stay at White's City, 7 miles away near the highway, a forbidding, menacing-looking abandoned motel morass that looks like a failed teepee-shaped whorehouse wayside off Route 66 in 1940 Albuquerque. Without the teepees.  Or else you get to stay in Carlsbad 20 miles away, a town with the worst motel reviews on the internet. Not surprising, Carlsbad New Mexico is the energy-drainer of the universe. If you enter one end in a good mood and manage to leave the other end in a good mood, then you entered the first end asleep and exited the other end wide awake with Jaime Pressly masturbating her naked pussy in front of your face and telling you how big your dick is and that you made her come harder than any nigger ever could.
     Everywhere are signs ordering you to "enjoy your National Park." Haha, just try it, asshole. Try and enjoy yourself, you will be in a Federal jail faster than you can jizz your pants from looking at a cheerleader's cameltoe at a high school football game. You're in Washington DC when you're in a National Park. You are not in a State anymore. You're not even in America anymore. You just think you're in New Mexico. You are wrong. You are in Washington DC, and Washington DC is not at all concerned about whatever State you think you are in because you are not in it. You are in the District of Columbia, and Jesus Christ only knows what the fuck a "district" is, but that's where you are, in a fucking district. Now me, I define district as "a foreign government on American shores." But I seem to be in a minority of one in this. I of course am used to that since I am the only one I have ever met without the implant. Everyone else defines the District of Columbia as "America." The District of Columbia has done more to eradicate America than preserve it, I don't know why the place gets so much fucking homage and loyalty, it's a fucking district. WHAT THE FUCK EVEN IS THAT!!!
   Hey, everybody, it's a district, what could be more bitchin' than having a district. Offhand I can't think of anything more bitchin' than that. We could even change the name of the Country: the United States of District. Which is the creator of the District Park System. Where you go to suffer and possibly die alone and with no phone service available while enjoying yourself. Because you're a white American brainwashed asshole who thinks you are having a really swell time getting fucked in the ass. Hey, it could be you're queer besides. That would explain why you are enjoying getting fucked in the ass.
   At the bottom of the cave, 70 stories down, are two elevators that take you back up if you don't want to walk up the 70 story switchback-based path that would likely give you a heart attack to do without two years of training at a Marine base first.
   One of these elevators has been broken for years. That's "year" with an s.
   We went up with all 4 Rangers who were working the "big room" as it's called at the bottom. Just me and Cecily and the four Rangers. One of whom was a gluttonous, pinheaded, fucking ape. He was so fucking disgusting and had such a fucked up personal aura that he would have been fired from Walmart as being too ignorant of others' right to life and happiness and civility to be inhabiting the same building with them.
   We went up the elevator with all four of these bureaucrats, three of whom were normal, one of whom was too stupid to be in the Honey BooBoo family but was certainly fat enough to be.
   There are two elevators and one of them has been out of commission for two years. Two years.
   One of the Rangers telling us this said "They built the shafts and installed the elevators in less time than it's taken to repair what's already here."
   When you are just two idiot citizens with four autocratic imperious wardens of the community keeping peace and creating order out of chaos like God, the Rangers, allow the two idiot citizenry - that would be me and Cecily -  a sacred look into the inner sanctum of uncensored Ranger small talk. So they were saying things to us they would not have said to others. Plus, I have an astounding gift for putting cops and military personnel - any bureaucrat carrying a firearm, basically - into a hypnotic trance of camaraderie and trust.
   So we're going up the working elevator with these 4 cops and the elevator guy, and one of the cops says "Want to see things without the lights on?" I say sure, sounds like fun. So we go up with just the installed lights inside the shaft visible and the whizzing rock walls flying past. They turn on the lights again and we all chat pleasantly except for the behemoth vat of ambergris and I smiled at the vast blob of pig guts and inquired, even though it was not spoken in a question form but as a statement, I inquired, "So, did the elevators start breaking down before or after you started riding in them."
   I did not ask him this like a smart ass, I asked him this assuming the tone of someone who was not happy with his appearance and job performance. There is a way to do this. And if you do it right, it mimics the way his real and actual boss talks to him - because all bosses talk and act the same way when they are unhappy with you, it's part of the management and executive culture, it's like a religion - and he was too suddenly nervous to get mad. And because I was so accusatory with enough wiggle-room for denial ("Oh, I was only curious about the exact date. I wasn't saying you are too huge for Modern Man to hoist up and down with his machines because of your inability to stop eating. Nothing like that.")( that sort of wiggle room) ...because I was clearly being critical but with no sign of fear but said it like i was some sort of disguised Personnel Spy from the Park Service...the other three immediately stepped-up to calm the waters.
   So the other three were audibly muffling guffaws and one intervened immediately to "have my back" so to speak and said "Ummm...I think that was long after you got here, Bob" (or whatever the fuck it was - I got his picture, his name is likely on his badge) and Bob just fumed like a fucking steamboat, which he actually closely resembled.
   The point of all this, if there is one, is that the Park Service is not a service. It's a huge Fuckup. It should be called the National Park Fuckup. Not the National Park Service.
   And that's all I'm sayin'.


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