Adrian Lamo: Poster Child for Power Patriotism

And this is why I love Slash­dot. From a com­ment on an Adrian Lamo story, also known as the guy who res­ul­ted in Brad­ley Manning’s incar­cer­a­tion, and sub­sequent torture.

He’s the kind of fuck­head who would be rat­ting his friends out an invad­ing force the week after they rolled over his town. He’s loyal to power, doesn’t have any semb­lance of prin­ciples that exist out­side of wor­ship­ing power, and there­fore he’s a fuck­ing model Amer­ican (or Ger­man or French­man or whomever is run­ning the show).

He prob­ably spends week­ends hav­ing wet dreams about expos­ing plots that dis­credit Old Glory, or any of the prin­ciples she has pre­ten­ded to have over the past 200 years. He sleeps with on hand on a flag­pole, strok­ing it erot­ic­ally as he tries to ima­gine a thou­sand dead bod­ies and ten thou­sand evis­cer­ated limbs and con­tainer ships full of blood pour­ing over his naked body to cel­eb­rate the March of Free­dom — mak­ing a pit­stop in weak Arab States before it returns to bring justice to the nig­ger Filipi­nos and nig­ger Mex­icanos and Panamani­ans and Nicara­guans and Hatians, foul­ing his fin­an­cial lebens­raum and ruin­ing a diverse Amer­ica pre­dic­ated on the phal­lus wor­ship of power and of the gun and all her related orgasms of con­trol and death — as long as Free­dom wor­ships Amer­ican Free­dom uncon­di­tion­ally. Uncon­di­tion­ally, as judi­cious as God: you are either with Us, or you are against Us and you are doomed to die if you do not obey. But you won’t have to wait for hell in the after­life. This is cur­rently avail­able for overnight deliv­ery, if you call now.

Just before he cli­maxes, a tear forms in Adrian’s eye as he ima­gines how glor­i­ous and good he is, offer­ing the sav­age Arab a chance to get on their knees and sign up for slavery instead of being killed on the spot. He rev­els in the moment that God was in the room when his Lord and Savior, George Her­bert Walker, decided in his infin­ite wis­dom to kill a few hun­dred thou­sand Iraqis and dis­place two mil­lion more in order to improve women’s rights by send­ing tens of thou­sands of them into pros­ti­tu­tion after killing their hus­bands on the bat­tle­field. In his own way, Adrian has freed the Iraqi people from the tyranny of own­ing their own resources, and replaced their struggle against cor­rup­tion of their gov­ern­ment with a loss of basic secur­ity, infra­struc­ture, and education.

And when he does cli­max, Adrian thinks about the power he pro­tects. He thinks about rap­ing and mur­der­ing a pris­oner and then help­ing cover it up without hav­ing to answer to any semb­lance of a court. He heaves his entire body into rap­ture as he pic­tures an inno­cent man being elec­tro­cuted to death by someone from the Agency while Brad­ley Man­ning is forced to watch from a prison cell, cry­ing for mercy, as part of his “non-torture” per­man­ent sol­it­ary con­fine­ment that Adrian bravely ini­ti­ated because… why?

Because in Adrian’s sick fantasy, Brad­ley Man­ning is the indi­vidual who needs to be cured of dan­ger­ous fantas­ies. But the truth is that Adrian Lamo is a hal­low imit­a­tion of a human being, and when he passes away there prob­ably won’t be a soul left to save. Lamo will wor­ship who­ever has the biggest gun, and it will serve him well because para­sites make up for their lack of intel­li­gence and aban­doned inde­pend­ence with depend­ence on lar­ger, more power­ful entit­ies who will accept fealty from any ran­dom piece of shit from the street, includ­ing Adrian Lamo.