I told you so. Told you nothing would happen with India and Pakistan. Told you the whole idea of “Hindu militants” was laughable.

But Christian militants — that’s a whole ‘nuther thing. Christians are stone killers. You put a Christian and a lion in an arena and I’ll bet Toyotas to Subarus the Christian’ll have the lion for lunch. Just look around you: lions are just about extinct, but the whole world is full of Christians singin’ about God’s love, ready to disembowel anybody who won’t join the chorus. (See my guide to Christian Missionary Martyrs as the front-line in Christian Jihads at the end of this article.) (more…)

Will India and Pakistan ever finish the cat-fight and get on with a real war? “We live in hope,” like my grandma used to say — but don’t hold your breath. Listening to the Indian and Paki generals shaking their little fists at each other, with their little mustaches going up and down, hearing the Indians talk about how their patience is “almost” exhausted — it just gets me down. This fag-slapping shit gives war a bad name. (more…)

My first fan letter from the eXile was an email from some guy in Michigan who wanted the latest news on Tom Clancy. Yeah sure, that’s why I’m here — to help you kiss that rich fat coward’s ass. For a while I couldn’t believe anybody’d be stupid enough to think I’d be a fan of Clancy’s. You may think that all war-nerds are equal, but they’re not. There are three big differences between Clancy and me: (more…)

Ever seen a Monster Truck show? They’re big in Fresno. The thrill is watching civilian cars get crushed by giant 4×4’s. But it’s nothing compared to the monster truck show the Israelis have put on in the last few weeks. I can’t get enough of those car-crushing shots. You know, this 61-ton Merkava 3 MBT grinds down Arafat Avenue in Ramallah or Jenin, “accidentally” scronching a whole row of cars. (more…)

Ames asked me to write a column on how all the wars are going, kind of a war reviewer. And I said yes on one condition, that you people don’t send me emails telling me liking war is a sign of unhealthiness or some psychoanalytical crap.

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This is an eXile classic, first published in The eXile on March 6, 2002.

I‘m a harasser. Put the cuffs on me; I harassed the working class. And it wasn’t even fun. It’s not like I groped some factory girl as she leaned over a sweaty sewing machine. That would have been a harassment worth risking. All I did was post an email reply to a “Call for Papers” on the work of “Jim Daniel, Working-Class Poet.” (more…)

Made in Yugoslavia
By Vladimir Jokanovic

Translated by Zeljana Zovko and Cathy Porter
Picador, 2001

Ah, we’re already nostalgic for the little wars of the nineties, especially the colorful Balkan popups, with their quaint rituals and goofy flags. Remember those warm breezy days when the Balkans were popping with small-arms fire? Remember how avidly the lovable hairy villagers returned to their ancient customs, supressed by the commies? Remember those warmhearted village-to-village ambushes all day every day, except when the slivovitz hangovers made them sensitive to loud noises? It was a triumph of the human spirit, the way they nourished their village snobbery, kept it bubbling at throat-slitting temperature, through the dark years of Tito’s peace. (more…)