I've Been Sick!

But I'm doing better than Goad, so at least there's that.

Holy Mongolia, have I been unwell.

15 muntz of hotel living, and I finally caught something from the daily flood of interchangeable international coughers and nosepickers who parade through my home as if they have a right to be here.

Hey Horst, Pierre, Liam, Fyodor, Meep vander Boop, Chu-won, Takashi, Jeun-bong, Pandit, Hajir, Simba, Samba, Sambo, and Woolamalong, you’re just passing through. I live here. Yet you come to my home and leave your phlegm and boogers behind.

Hotel living is great except for all the other assholes who stay here.

This bug I caught, it had a weird trajectory. Normally these things start with a sore throat, turning into post-nasal drip, then cough and congestion. But not this mutha. This one started as a nonstop cough, then went into the sinuses and throat.

WTF?

Anyway, I was on my back for over a week. No appetite; just water, Gatorade, juices, tea. No booze…I never need booze when I’m sick. I drink so that I don’t have to face this fucked-up world with a clear head. Being ill creates the same fuzziness and impairment, so it suffices. These days I only get about two weeks a month to drink anyway; I’m gonna save ‘em for when I need ‘em.

I’m sapped of energy, man. But I can type, and I owe you guys an update.

So here’s the update: I didn’t get around to mailing out the signed books last week. I’ll do it next week. It’s been fucking HOT here (though not as hot as Phoenix. I often think that Arizonan sinners have an unfair advantage…Hell will seem mild to them). No way I’m walking to the post office in this heat. So first I gotta muster the energy to package the books, and then you’ll have to wait until my friend can drive to where I am (much farther out than Beverly Hills) to help me mail them.

Don’t worry - I’ll get ‘er done. Just be patient.

And no, the book isn’t on Amazon yet, and my small-time publisher, Worst Buchholz, can’t even tell me if it’s because I’m on a blacklist, or because he has no idea how to get a fucking book on Amazon.

Speak comfort to me, Jacob. I’m sick and my book launch makes Trump’s 250 look like a resounding success.

I’m actually quite fortunate; the staff here took fine care of me, serving me homemade chicken soup and checking in on me daily. So please don’t think I was suffering in isolation. I’m not Jack Nance, FFS. You know, Eraserhead. Dude was an alcoholic who lived out of cheap hotels. On December 29, 1996, he drunkenly got into a fight at Winchell’s (“Don’t take that last sprinkle, asshole. You give that donut to ME. I’m Eraserhead, dammit”), got popped in the eye - his head violently hitting the floor as he fell - and crawled back to his hotel room to die of brain bleed, alone and unknown, his only friend in the world, David Lynch, too busy reciting a monologue about the simple joys of burning the ends of turnips with matches and inhaling the smoke to check on his old pal.

Died over a donut…how Lynchian.

Hey, I just realized that Bob Saget stole Eraserhead’s bit. Though he wisely cut the Winchell’s scene and localized the entire show to the hotel room.

Saget was always an economical director.

Speaking of death…two weeks ago I asked if one of you guys could contact Adam Parfrey to find out how to get a fucking book on Amazon. And Jim Goad took up the challenge.

I don’t think he thought things through, though.

“I can only do it once.”

I’ve been friends with Goad for 34 years. Back in the day, I was also very close with his wife Debbie. I have thoughts on Jim’s passing, but I’m gonna keep them to myself. I’ll say only that, in reading the various Goad obits, I was disappointed in certain colleagues of mine for mindlessly repeating Goad’s false claim (from Shit Magnet) that Debbie was a “retard” with “an IQ of 86.” Shit Magnet is an angry and bitter nonstop monologue of rage and self-pity, and while I was disappointed with Jim at the time of the book’s publication for making that claim, I’m even more disappointed in people who never knew Debbie for repeating it.

Debbie was a brilliant writer and editor. Yes, she was a self-hating whiner. Also yes, Jim was a violent abuser. And now they’re both dead, so let it rest, as I’ll let rest the other things I could say about Jim.

Because does anyone even care anymore? Jim’s death had its week; now nobody’s even talking about it. That’s how it’s gonna be for me, too. And for all of us who slither off this sphere leaving no family behind. We all get our one week.

“He was talented; he will be missed.”

Then everyone moves on to something new.

“Hey, Supergirl II: The Boobening sure sucks!”

Indeed, I have a plan to make sure I’m not remembered. When I die, anything that’s left in my estate will go toward hiring a professional hitman (my executor will take care of that). And anyone who takes to any public forum to say “You know, Cole took a lot of shit in life, and I never really looked into his work. But reading it now that he’s dead, he was actually a pretty reasonable guy and a fine writer who should’ve worked more” will be murdered.

I only want to be “appreciated” while I’m alive to enjoy it. Posthumous “discovery” of my work will merit a death sentence for the discoverer. You good folks who enjoy my work while I’m still here and kicking, you’ll be fine. But anyone, anyone who does the whole “now that he’s dead, I think his work deserves a reevaluation from those of us who ignored him in life” will meet a violent end.

Appreciate me now, or never mention my name after I’m gone. Violate that rule at risk of your life.

I’ll die happy knowing that I’ve arranged such a thing.

On a not unrelated note, does anyone know of an executor who’s okay with soliciting multiple assassinations? If so, DM me the details.

Okay, I’m still worn out from the illness so I’ll end with one small bit of semi-substantive commentary about something that’s been irking me as I’ve been lying in my sickbed.

I title this, You Can Make Anyone Say Anything, You Douchebag.

People think they have buh-leefs! Principles!

No you fucking don’t. Anyone can find themselves acting in a manner that betrays their supposed precious prin-sipples.

An example:

Lindsay Wagner was arguably the most versatile actress of the latter half of the 20th Century. This chameleonic thespian was capable of, at the same time, portraying Jaime Sommers the bionic woman, Jaime Sommers the pro tennis player, Jaime Sommers the school teacher, and Jaime Sommers the superspy. No other actor ever displayed such range.

In real life, Wagner was a flaming far-leftist. FAR far-leftist. No nukes, BOO Reagan, YAY commies, the entire 1970s/1980s leftist package.

I met Wagner at an antiwar protest in Downtown L.A. in 1985 (I was covering it for the Hollywood Jewish women’s org that sponsored it):

(David Cole: insufferable for 57 years and counting)

Wagner gave me an interview about the true passion of her life: veganism. Extreme veganism. No meat or fish or dairy. No ending the life of even a plant for human consumption. And most bizarrely, nothing sweet. Not even vegan sweets. Sweets, she explained, are bourgeois. Eating anything that tastes good is bourgeois. Eating should only be for grim bare sustenance as we fight for the peasants, who will surely welcome the world of grim bare sustenance we’re building for them.

Now, as this dingbat was explaining her philosophy, she was holding her three-year-old son Dorian. And she looks at him and proudly tells me (dramatically overemphasizing the kid’s name), “Dorian sees cookies advertised on TV, and he sees his friends eating cookies, but Dorian is so wise, he knows to never desire a cookie, not because that’s what I’ve told him to do, but because wise freedom fighter Dorian understands that sweet things corrupt us and distract us from focusing on the revolution.”

And as she was talking, Dorian was staring at her like “Bitch I’d slit your throat for an Oreo.”

When Wagner won the bionic woman role on the Six Million Dollar Man series, she played ball with the producers. After all, she was a nobody. No clout, no leverage. But she proved a fan favorite (fucking fans…nobody ruins shows worse), so much so that the network okayed her own spinoff.

Now Wagner had clout. And she used her upper hand to smack the action out of the series. She wanted the bionic woman to be a feminist hero who used her mind and her compassion, not her physical strength. There’d be no fight scenes on her show. No action at all. Fistfights lead to nukes, war, and Republicanism! Women are the world’s peacemakers. Men kill, destroy, debase. Women solve, nurture, and build.

Jaime Sommers would be the first great feminist heroine…by never using her Bionic powers to harm villains.

I’ll never forget watching the first episode in January 1976, having been raised on Emma Peel of The Avengers, a character who inflicted more spinal and brain damage than the NFL. From snapping the neck of a fake Anglican priest in “The Town of No Return” to crushing a murderous frat boy under a bookcase in “A Sense of History” to breaking the backs of a half-dozen evil ballerinas in “How to Succeed at Murder”…

“Enjoying the ballet class, Mrs. Peel?”

“Not enough paralysis for my liking. There, that’s better.”

…Mrs. Peel kicked ass. That’s what I was used to.

So here comes the Bionic Woman, spun off from my favorite ultra-violent American series The Six Million Dollar Man, and the entire hour passes and the bionic bimbo doesn’t do one violent thing! She uses her bionics only once - to teach a group of misogynistic elementary school boys a lesson when they won’t let girls play on their softball team. She has the main bully-boy pitch to her, and she hits the ball into outer space. And the boys are like, “that was our only ball!” And Jaime smiles and winks because if the girls can’t play, nobody plays.

That was the extent of her bionics in that episode - fucking with children.

As the series progressed, the writers struggled to find nonviolent bionic actions Wagner would allow.

In one episode, Sommers, assisting a group of nuns, uses her bionic powers to…clean a floor.

And in the episode “A Thing of the Past,” the writers found something that Wagner approved with gusto.

Here, I’ll let you see for yourself:

She bionically makes hamburgers…in other words, sandwiches (yes, there’s meat involved; Wagner hadn’t yet discovered veganism in 1976).

If you asked some “manosphere” misogynist, some Neanderthalic Andrew Tate “women are worthless” shithead, what they think about a woman with bionic powers, their response would likely be “Great - she can make me a sandwich in half the time.”

Yep, the Bionic Woman literally did the “make me a sammich” meme. The #1 misogynist meme, and Lindsay Wagner did it, for real, in sincerity, thinking she was striking a blow FOR feminism.

“A bionic woman? She can use her powers to clean floors and make sandwiches!”

The point being, a strident feminist can enact a misogynist meme, thinking it’s a noble manifestation of her principles instead of a laughable violation of them.

You can get anyone to do anything. Buh-leefs mean nothing. Under the right circumstances, you can get people to do the exact things they supposedly would never do.

Obviously I’m going somewhere with this.

For years, ever since woke became a thing, “conservative” writers and podcasters have railed against the usurpation of the WHITE MAN’S genius.

“Fucking Hollywood, fucking Netflix, fucking Hulu and Amazon and NBC, recasting great WHITE men in history as BLACK!”

One of the most pilloried movies was Hidden Figures, which portrayed black women as the true unsung geniuses who sent man to the Moon.

Oh, you guys hated that film! We all did. I criticized it myself. So did, well, you name the rightist, they ragged on the movie.

Just as we’ve all ragged on every movie that robbed THE WHYTEMAN of his inborn genius.

But there’s an odd blind spot on the part of you paladins of white male brilliance.

Recently, Tucker Carlson hosted the outspoken Holocaust denier Owen Benjamin. Millions watched. Carlson called Benjamin “probably the smartest, wisest person in Hollywood.”

Along with denying the Holocaust, Benjamin also denies the Moon landing. Never happened! A hoax.

And none of you brave rightist defenders of white genius said a word. Nobody criticized Benjamin for his views or Carlson for platforming them.

Well that’s odd. How is Benjamin’s Moon landing denial any less insulting to the white man than Hidden Figures’ racial role-swapping? Hidden Figures at least cedes that the Apollo program was real and the leaders were white men. Owen Benjamin claims that all those NASA white men, from von Braun to the astronauts, were idiots, fakers, frauds too dumb to actually figure out a way to the Moon, so they lied about it, perpetrating a hoax on the world to cover up their low IQs and incompetence.

And this…doesn’t bother you? You’re fine with it?

A movie casts a black in a role that was white in real-life, and you hit the roof. A movie exaggerates the role of a black in a real-life historical event, and you go apeshit.

But Owen Benjamin and Tucker Carlson deny and ridicule one of the greatest accomplishments of white men in the 20th Century, and you don’t say a word.

Not a word.

Indeed, many conservatives cheered Carlson for “asking questions,” just as they idolize Benjamin for “exposing hoaxes” (he also rejects “round Earth,” thus shitting on European scientists, indeed shitting on white heritage itself by claiming that whites are so stupid that even their “brightest” got the shape of the Earth wrong).

And this doesn’t bother you.

I thought you were the champions of the white man! I thought you were the protector of white accomplishments.

What happened, oh good sir knight? Why hath thou failed to defendeth thy kingdom?

I know you don’t believe the Moon landing was a hoax, or that the Earth is flat. You’re not an idiot…just a coward. You don’t want to lose all those Owen Benjamin and Tucker Carlson followers on X. So you sit back like a neutered possum and watch THE WHITE MAN insulted, debased, demeaned like a mutherfucker, and you’re fine with it.

Because anybody can be made to say anything. I mean, look at you: you profess to be a defender of white brilliance, yet you say nothing when Benjamin and Carlson tell a generation of young people, “Whites were too dumb to get to the Moon, so they deceived the world to cover up how low-IQ they are.”

Even the most haughty “defenders of white male genius” can be made to clap along like seals as a Jew-hating retard destroys the legacy of “white genius” far worse than any Hollywood Jew ever did, as another massively popular Jew-hating retard calls him “the smartest, wisest person in Hollywood.”

Let me be clear: If you have in the past attacked “woke” films like Hidden Figures, or other movies or shows that turn white historical figures black, but you’ve said nothing about Benjamin and Carlson’s Moon landing denial, you are a fucking fraud.

A coward and a fraud. And I despise you.

Your supposed principles, your commitment to preserving and honoring “white Western civilization,” is trumped by your desire to not lose X followers.

You make me sick.

Leftist: “I’m a progressive feminist so I’m going to make sure the bionic woman does nothing but clean floors and make sandwiches.”

Rightist: “I’m a champion of preserving the heritage of white male brilliance so I’m going to claim that whites were too stupid to get to the Moon and they engineered a hoax to hide their ineptitude.”

BTW, you do realize that if Benjamin and Carlson are correct, that 100% justifies Affirmative Action. If white men left to their own devices fail at their tasks and cover it up by concocting hoaxes of unprecedented magnitude, then yeah we need blacks and browns and wimmins in the mix to prevent white deceivers from pulling such demonic tricks.

Congrats, cowards too afraid to condemn Benjamin and Carlson - you’ve justified nonwhite nonmale quotas. We can’t let something like the Moon hoax happen again! Why not open the border to every Third Worlder? They never did a Moon hoax. Or a Holocaust hoax. Or a round Earth hoax. They may commit street crimes, but what’s a few stolen catalytic converters and a few Medicare frauds compared to preventing another MOON HOAX?

And when Vance runs for prez in 2028, are you going to ask him to denounce his mentor Carlson for platforming Moon landing denial?

LOL! You cowards will suck Vance’s dick like the whores you are. You’ll never ask him to denounce his own personal Jeremiah Wright. That would be canceling! And we must never cancel words. Or notice them.

Sorry Steve Sailer - the age of noticing is over. Words, a time-tested method by which humans notice the character and intentions of other humans, are now off limits. We must turn a blind eye toward words…lest we become the worst villains of all - CANCELERS!

Oh, the future you tards are creating for us.

Hey Goad, pass me some lanyard.

Endnote: In checking Lindsay Wagner’s Wiki page to confirm how old Dorian was in 1985, I saw that in 1999 Wagner formally ended her veganism and indeed rejected even vegetarianism, returning to eating sugar, meat, and poultry.

Jesus fucking Christ…can you imagine poor Dorian, who went his entire childhood without eating meat or anything sweet…who missed out on Happy Meals, hot dogs, pizza, birthday cake, chocolate ice cream, and all that amazing 1970s candy store shit, and now that he’s an adult his meat martinet mom is like, “never mind; I guess it’s okay to eat that stuff after all.”

She robbed her kid of one of the great joys of childhood, only to reverse herself once his childhood was over.

Lindsay Wagner destroyed a person’s past, and you’re actively working to destroy everyone’s future.

Congrats. Now go follow Owen Benjamin and boost him in the algorithm. And remember that true bravery is staying silent on your BUH-LEEFS if your X follower count is threatened.

I’m gonna be 58 on September 2nd - one month from now. You were so generous regarding the GiveSendGo, no Amazon wish-list this time (besides, I’m still wearing the hell outta the shirts you got me last year).

But birthday tips are always appreciated!

GiveSendGo, Buy Me a Beer, or PayPal.