Sensible Drug Policies for an eNlightened Nation 2015

Sensible Drug Policies for an eNlightened Nation 2015

Whosoever has the ideas has the power. While Justin Trudeau, Leader of the Canadian Liberal Party, quite possibly our federal Primeminister come October 2015 elections, has said if elected to office he will legalize marijuana, does he have any idea what a ‘legal’ marijuana-trade in Canada would look like? And if he doesn’t, who does? Mark Emery? Which expert will Bustin turn to in establishing a legal marijuana-trade that hopefully offends no one? How about the Drug-Trade as a whole? Hasn’t he heard marijuana is a gateway drug? Is there anyone in Canada with a realistic notion of how to bring Drug-Trafficking into the ethical, post-modern, light of the Law? Besides me, Andrea Coates, a specter on Facebook? In which case does the power to direct Canada’s profitable underworld and the violent gangsters who populate it lie with me, Andrea Coates, an obscure 26 year-old cyber-punk, and not any elected Primeminister man-in-a-suit?

Fresh and Useful Ideas for a Sensible and Safeish Underworld from the Utopian Feminist Philosopher of Sx, Drugs, & Anarky

These words are not written in stone. They are posted on the internet and are untested. However to my knowledge they represent the most comprehensive and realistic approach to Ethical Drug-Trafficking proposed in the western world.

Civil society’s inhibitions as regards professional drug-trafficking are two-fold.

Inhibition#1. if all or most recreational drugs are ‘illegal’, and those caught distributing ‘illegal’ recreational drugs are punished harshly by civilian courts, this practice pushes professional recreational-drug-trafficking into a shadowy netherland of activity only people of questionable moral fibre dare entre, that is pathological liars and sociopaths, the only people can tolerate the degrees of paranoia and falsification necessary to survive as high-level professional recreational-drug-traffickers. I know so much about drug-trafficking because one of my mercurial absentee boyfriends is a sociopath with all the fun character traits of your friendly neighborhood cocaine-wholesaler and my primary(?) motive for becoming a drug-policy activist is to keep him from going to jail for life or getting shot or ODing sadly, for without me to help him his is the spiritually-empty flash-pan life of civil society’s most scapegoated but idolized brute: the corrupt gangster. The Mafia or Cosa Nostra is a cooperative of inbred sociopathic Sicilian outlaw clans. The Hell’s Angels Motorcycle Club, and its various derivative foes, is an international white-supremacist anarcho-syndicate that harbors any number of criminal-lifestylists and criminal-sympathizers. The Mexican Cartels, La Familia, Los Zetos and Sinola, rival the ‘legitimate’ Mexican government for power and influence. These three outlaw establishments, the Mafia, the Hell’s Angels, and the amalgamated Mexican Cartels, dominate the Turtle Island aka North American underworld and are ethically beholden to no-one but members of their own ranks and notoriously difficult to infiltrate, persecute, and dismantle as criminal establishments: the War on Drugs is over and the Cartels have won, though law-enforcement may be unlikely to concede the Cartels won because their existence is valid, if not always their approach, they are robust outlaw legacies unlikely to be going anywhere anytime soon, let alone jail, so let’s make the best of it. The civilian legal policy of penalizing drug-traffickers with imprisonment is ineffective at deterring ambitious alpha-masculine sociopaths, desperate addicts, impoverished ethnic minorities, and those born into gangs from entering the lucrative black-market illicit drug-trade, a profession where clan-ties rule, might is right, and profit is the motive, just like the licit(?) oil industry. In today’s underworld, under conditions of Prohibition, drug-product tampering is rampant to inflate profits, and very common are rip-offs, murders of squealers and rats and defectors, sales to minors, and neurosis among traffickers compelled to live stressful double-lives on the other side of the law with little interpersonal intimacy or sympathy ( for which money is expected to be the compensation? ) while providing a highly-in-demand product/service. No contemporary civilian politician wants to broach the subject of ‘legalizing’ or even ‘decriminalizing’ cocaine-trafficking, but plenty of them want to know a discrete cocaine-trafficker. Swearing drug-trafficking ‘illegal’ in and of itself and punishing outlaw traffickers inordinately for supplying a hungry but hypocritical and apathetic civilian population’s Demand requires police, courts and legislators to effect an often insincere or unnecessarily harsh moral condemnation of drug-traffickers and users, eroding their ethical right to mete out punishment and public trust in their competence as law-enforcement personnel. In a predictably ironic twist my coke-dealer bf’s dad is a reputable Judge and that explains everything about why the son is an irreformable gangster his dad needs to hug.

Inhibition#2. if recreational drugs, including those that are dangerous and addictive, are made perfectly ‘legal’ by the civilian state government, that government is perceived as condoning the use of these illicit substances, an unacceptable stance for many voters that concurrently opens up difficult to answer and unsettling questions such as – if cocaine is perfectly ‘legal’ does that mean it can be sold in stores? By whom? The government? To anyone who walks in with money? Or do you have to fill out a form or get a prescription? For cocaine? How does a bureaucracy determine who deserves cocaine and who doesn’t and when and where? Full-scale legalization of dangerous and addictive recreational drugs is a terrifying proposition, even more terrifying than our current, dysfunctional, hypocritical, shadowy Prohibition reality where, instead of the hopefully-transparent Bureaucracy State, a violent, unethical, greedy, opaque Mobster Underworld controls the recreational-drug-trade, ignorance about illicit drugs abounds in state law-enforcement to maintain the hypocritical and unenforceable but preferable position of Prohibition, still state government itself selling recreational drugs conjures a dystopian vision of cocaine walmarts, experimental heroin injection labs, and poor-quality over-taxed federal bud no one wants to visit except in speculative fiction. So even Portugal, with arguably a most lenient attitude towards illicit drugs, has only removed criminal penalties from possession of very small quantities of these drugs, and still actively persecutes the traffickers. Many Central and South American countries are de-facto Narco-states, still drugs are ‘illegal’ there, meaning those countries are profoundly corrupt and politically unstable, as is any country were blatant hypocrisy serves as the government, which holds true for a prosperous and peaceful but self-deceiving Canada as well. No one in Canadian or international politics or media seems to have noticed the massive legitimate power-vacuum that is our current crop of Nordic socialist-liberal-conservative man democrats you can vote for, meaning our national leadership vacuum is about to be filled by me, Andrea Coates, an obscure millennial blogger with better ideas than have any of the tepid man-heads of our registered federal political parties, a warning to people that our coming election will be bunk and a sham, whomever finds himself in office will find himself at my office, for I was elected by God(!) to know more about organizing a country effectively than do the older men at this time and place in our national story, and I’m sorry to burst your democratic bubble Canada, but that is how it is in Nature: might is right and a deft pen is mightier than the military. Unless I am executed for treason I run this country from my vapor lounge.

The difficulty of addressing in easily-digestible sound-bites the questions raised by proposing full-scale ‘legalization’ and government regulation of recreational-drug-trafficking is such that most politicians have opted for the Prohibitionist stance: with few exceptions ( alcohol, tobacco, coffee, tea, obscure organics ingested by dedicated psychonauts, maybe marijuana ), say Prohibitionists, recreational drugs should be outlawed, confiscated and destroyed if possible, taking them is bad for your health, worse than driving or doughnuts, and to be frowned upon if exposed as a habit ( if you’re discrete and moderate and rich and connected who cares ), people who sell recreational drugs on the Black-Market are criminal deviants who ought to be incarcerated, or, at the most sympathetic end of the Prohibition’s punishment spectrum, rehabilitated with new job skills through early intervention, though how exactly that is supposed to be done besides chaperoned activities for at-risk youth is never made clear.  What is clear, if you’re not blinded by your personal prejudices towards recreational drugs and those who use or sell them, is that our current drug-policies, laws, and unwritten social status-quos are inadequate to address the sordid reality of drug-trafficking as a viable profession for many people, including my psycho upper-class boyfriend and his soon to be hugely embarrassed dad the immaculate Judge. Prohibitionist politicians and law-makers/enforcers are HYPOCRITES. The Demand for recreational drugs among otherwise law-abiding citizens is high, higher among neglected addict populations for whom the drug trumps other lifestyle concerns, but criminalizing drug users and addicts is unjust: the former are predominantly functional worker-bees making a consensual choice to use in their sparetime, the latter are suffering and in need of our help and sympathy, not judgment, criminal records, and further punishment, given addiction is a punishment in of itself for failing to adequately address emotional, spiritual, and sociological malaise. ‘Drug-Addiction’ is the blight of our era but why I don’t know. Understanding these basic precepts of empathy and free-will  - addicts need help; otherwise functional citizens can ingest whatever weekend fun they choose - has led many nations to tacitly or overtly ‘decriminalize’ possession of recreational drugs for personal use, while keeping in place laws that persecute and penalize the traffickers to users and addicts, the traffickers are the ones who profit inordinately from illegal drugs-trades so they are the ones who should be punished for breaking the law-for-squares. While this approach - decriminalize possession, persecute traffickers - is common to many nations, and is certainly practical, it is an untenable moral hypocrisy and therefore doomed to collapse right now.  Penalizing the trafficker ( Supply ) while letting the user ( Demand ) go free is unfair: either both parties are responsible for breaking the law in a consensual drug-sale or both are exempt from legal persecution for conducting a consensual drug-sale, and the same principal holds for sex-trafficking: either both the john and the prostitute are in the law when they consent to trade sex for money, or they are both breaking a law of common-sense: sex you get for money is always disappointing, and if you want a bunch of money for sex that isn’t disappointing you tell the john you won’t have sex for the money.

Is there a way to legalistically approach drug-trafficking that resolves the moral contradictions of Prohibition and Decriminalization of Possession that isnt scary full-scale Legalization? Technically, on the ground reality here, people have the right to ingest whatever toxic substances they want, thats why they keep doing it despite Prohibition, but society at large doesn’t want ingesting toxic substances to get unusually high becoming a prevalent thing and eroding the enjoyability of neighborhoods ( yet you can buy as much alcohol as you want legally down the street because everything’s gotta give ). Is there a way to set up a Drug-Trafficking Gold-Standard where consenting users can feel assured their drugs are clean and fairly-priced without having to buy their recreational drugs from an Orwellian warehouse?  That there exists in popular culture no Gold-Standard text or ideology on the matter of ethical drug-trafficking ( besides this one, which aspires ) suggests the question of how to traffic recreational drugs ethically is a difficult one to answer, too daunting for most policy-makers, politicians, philosophers, moralists, and gangsters to contend with. I am in a unique position as the kind of bookish prostitute both high-level politicians and drug-traffickers find oooooh attractive, but fear as a threat to their mutual livelihoods – I am eminently fuckable, and sympathetic to the causes, but not in the slightest interested in lying to people on a male drug-trafficker’s or politician’s confused emotionally-retarded short-sighted behalf. I have observed the intimate realities of professionals whose in-born skills place them on the bad side of the civilian state, but cannot be held to omerta for reasons of self-respect, nor kept in ignorance about the menz goingz on, as I am highly intelligent and perceptive and know when I am being lied to and about what even if I haven’t seen you for years it’s all over your body language on google. I believe most successful drug-traffickers are intimately-challenged sociopathic anarcho-capitalist patriarchs whose relationships to the State and Civilian Society mirror their relationships to women and whose professional successes are metaphysically and immediately dependant on their abilities to keep their women happy with them – therefore, the power in the dynamic sits with me, the moll who will talk to whomever has ears to listen, which is surprisingly few people, Canada. It is perhaps relevant that the most comprehensive treatises on the Black-Market, which has maintained its crepuscular existence since time immemorial, have been written by a woman, a species of human only recently granted the prestige of being considered a serious philosopher and essayist along with her vaginaness.

My first proposed innovation to bring about the Golden-Age of Drug-Trafficking is a national ( hopefully international ) understanding of the differences between and necessities of Licit- and Black-Markets.

The Licit-Market – is the ‘legal’ economic market on which most goods and services are traded. Ideally it is perfectly transparent: records of transactions are kept, prices are fair and competitive, suitable taxes are paid to the community, and any and all goods and services the population could demand are supplied by reputable businesses kept accountable by law and good sense. The Licit-Market in Canada is, if not perfect, then functional and adequate. The Licit-Market is dry, perfunctory, and not sexy, but any attempts to cheat it are immoral and ought to confer punishment.

The Black-Market – is the ‘illicit’ economic market that, ideally, only sells three things: sex, (recreational) drugs, and anarchy, the first two being self-evident, the last not so much, but here is an overview. The Black-Market sells those products and services which, in order to procure, you must ‘know a guy,’ those products which are ‘illegal’ or ‘sinful’ ( also known as ‘vices’ or the ‘vice-trade’ ) but for which Demand for a Supply nonetheless exists and has never not existed, despite persistent efforts by social leaders to behave as if Demand for a reciprocal Supply of recreational drugs, non-committal sex, death-dealing, robbery, gambling, illegal fire-arms, etc, did not exist and ought not exist: no matter how vilified drug-traffickers, sex-workers, and death-dealing pirating gangsters find themselves by mainstream society, people with those professional identities continue to manifest in populations at large unabated by any amount of moralizing or harsh legal punishments. Any product or service for which Demand exists but legal restrictions make it difficult or too expensive to purchase on the Licit-Market where it ought to be because it is neither a sex-act, a recreational drug, nor an anarchic trade such as a hit, arms for an insurgency, piracy, extortion, etc, will wind up on the Black-Market at a competitive price, and that is anarchy, Demand=Supply, morality having nothing to do with it whatsoever. Every nation on earth has a Black-Market, but the size and power of the Black-Market differs by state. A state in which law restricts many goods and services or makes them too expensive for the general population to afford will manifest a potent and engulfing Black-Market ( example: insufficient Communist Cuba’s second economy of flashy Tourist Dollars ) that will erode trust in licit government rule and political and economic stability in that country – revolutions always start on the Black-Market. Meanwhile a country with a vigorous and open-minded Licit-Market will have a restricted Black-Market, ideally the Black-Market sells no more than sex, (recreational) drugs, and traditional anarchic product/services in vigilante-justice, arms-to-gangsters, robinhood-theivery,  risky-gambling, etc, that to the extent the civilian population is well-provided for by the Licit-Market will not become a nuisance to that civilian population ( a just civil court system means people don’t have to rely on vigilante justice; ethical gangsters only shoot other professional gangsters like ethical soldiers only shoot other professional soldiers; a well-fed fairly-priced society doesn’t need to steal; most gambling is no more harmful than taking a recreational drug or visiting a prostitute; competent civilian police forces, armies and private security firms mean civilians don’t have to pay mobster rackets to protect them at inflated Black-Market prices; police should be protecting civilians from extortion; a powerful and benevolent and accountable state government has no fear of revolution from the anarchic underworld, etc ). In other words the relationship between Licit- and Black-Markets is compensational: when the Licit-Market is strong, the Black-Market is negligible, like the small drug habit of a physically-healthy, professionally-successful citizen; when the Licit-Market is weak the Black-Market takes over and corruption and violence run rampant, like the major drug habit of an oppressed underemployed minority in an indifferent society. Both are necessary for economic self-subsistence: you will not find a nation without a Black-Market, like you will not find an individual without a vice. So too societies always manifest the sorts of people who can work the dangerous but very sexy Black-Market and keep their heads, and in a relaxed Canadian socialism that person happens to be me: you want it, Andrea Coates she got it, the trouble is finding her under all the people who will tell you she’s crazy or doesn’t exist, then try convincing her you deserve it, ha ha ha. Where the Black-Market is unbridled you have Corruption, where the Black-Market is negligible you have Integrity; however doing away with the Black-Market and the sorts of people who work it entirely is an impossible fancy and self-defeating practice. Harsh penalties for those who work the Black-Market ( sex-workers, drug-traffickers, death-dealers, pirates, gamblers, etc ) only compounds the suffering in their difficult but necessary lives and breeds corruption and insincerity among law-enforcement personnel and civilians who partake of vices supplied since always and forever by the outlaw gangster 1%.

As far as I know I am the first philosopher to make the Black-Market my area of expertise, and here is what I propose to resolve or at least minimize the conflicts that are inherent to the relationship between Black- and Licit-Markets, especially, in this particular pamphlet, as to how they relate to drug-trafficking.

1. The Legitimacy of the Black-Market as Separate but Interrelated Economy
So long as citizen politicians and law-makers disavow the validity of the Black-Market and what goes on there they have no power to more that superficially direct its course or to influence behavior by black-market professionals other than to cause them to dig their heals in and become more violent and secretive to protect their assets. In order to make black-market professionals ethical and beholden to the general population rather than to their outlaw clans exclusively, to behave with good-will towards all in their vice-trades, it is necessary to acknowledge that the Black-Market exists, has value as a separate ‘illegal’ if not-punishable economy, will remain a separate economy with its own regulations and power-players forever, and relieve mobsters of omerta, the necessity to lie and clam up to protect themselves against an unfairly stigmatizing civilian culture. If mobsters can talk honestly about who and what they are and what they do for a living they will remain ethical in those practices; if they are forced to rely on omerta to survive as what they are unchangeably they will turn destructive towards society at large to protect themselves. Acknowledge that the healthiest Black-Market only sells three things: sex, (recreational) drugs, and anarchy, in the third there is a great deal of wiggle room, and to the extent the Black-Market is growing to encompass goods and services that should be on the Licit-Market, the Licit-Market is weak and unfair and in need of reform to reduce the Black-Market, not the Black-Market in need to reform to assist the Licit-Market, though that is what is happening in Canada: the Black-Market is coming out of the shadows to bolster our otherwise middle-weight Licit-Economy and give it some muscle. Canada will become famous for being the first country in the world, in history, to decriminalize the Black-Market as a separate but distinct Economy in need of a more nuanced approach than Prohibition or Condemnation to  work in concert with the Licit-Economy rather than draining licit resources on pointless ‘crime-fighting’. ‘Decriminalizing’ the Black-Market in this context means black-market trades are ‘illegal’ in that they fall outside the purview of the Licit-Economy but confer no punishment so long as those trades are engaged in by consenting adults. 

2. The Role of Consent in Black-Market Transactions
If consent and adulthood are absent from black-market trades those trades ought to be considered punishable for the victimizing party. Prostitutes can sell sex, pimps can live off the avails, drug-traffickers can sell dangerous recreational drugs, users can buy recreational drugs, gangsters can kill each other, etc, and it is no business of the state government’s to the extent
- prostitutes are legal adults working according to consent not coercion
-pimps are not beating prostitutes for a cut, rather prostitutes are choosing and consenting to their pimps
-the drug user has consented to imbibing a particular drug ( selling someone a mislabeled drug is an offense )
-gangsters have been consensually sworn into ‘the game’ and are marked accordingly as fair targets for other gangsters
Self-aware adults have the human right to engage in consensual black-market transactions, any government that attempts to deny adults this right by criminalizing one or both parties regardless of the presence of consent in the transaction infantilizes the population and breeds mistrust and revolt among more grownup, and therefore more powerful, minds: a political revolution organized by educated drug-traffickers and sex-workers was inevitable in one of the more advanced western nations, I just happen to be leading it, maybe because I am a pretty TV-face and an articulate letter writer and Canada is a big fat flimsy country ripe for the plucking.
If the Rule of Consent is found to be broken, government intervention by police, law-enforcement, courts, social-workers, etc is appropriate.  For example
 -when women and children have been kidnapped and forced into the sex-trade by pimps these pimps should be imprisoned or shot
-if pimps are beating prostitutes or taking an unfair cut these pimps should be imprisoned or physically-maimed depending on the severity of their crimes
-if a drug-trafficker is selling to minors they should be imprisoned and given rehabilitating therapy
-if a drug-trafficker is selling an impure product they should be imprisoned

3. Gangsters govern themselves and the State keeps it Simple ie Effective Anarchy and the Respectful Nanny
In a society in which the legitimacy of the Black-Market as a separate but necessary economic entity has been disavowed, gangsters police their own without recourse to the moral values of the general population except to avoid capture and punishment for their illicit livelihoods which yet other citizens enjoy in secret without championing the rights of gangsters to provide for vices except tacitly, in a cowardly manner, by supporting gangster businesses and watching movies about them. The current organized criminal climate suggests Black-Market Prohibition by staunch civilian law-enforcement is ineffectual at curbing amoral behavior by outlaw gangsters, leads to more amoral behavior to cover one’s tracks, and should be overhauled as a law-enforcement practice, to ensure gangsters are penalized for those crimes they commit that deserve penalization, rather than do what they will insofar as they are able to evade capture on ‘crimes’ that, so long as they supply a consensual Demand, are not crimes at all, and therefore easy to shirk responsibility on. If state police are ignorant hypocrite squares, flexible loyal hipster outlaw gangsters have the advantage. In a Prohibitionist society in which gangsters, or black-market professionals, are persecuted for the wrong ‘crimes’ - selling drugs to a consenting buyer rather than tampering with drugs to increase profits by selling a diluted product; living off the avails of prostitution rather than harboring a misogynistic perspective on women; killing a guy who knew what he was getting into rather than being a law-abiding coward - gross injustices will go unpunished, the short-term profit motive will trump other considerations, and law-enforcement will appear inept and corrupt.  Establishing proper boundaries to the Cops-and-Robbers Game ( and but a game it is folks ) will, I think, go a long way towards curbing amoral behavior by gangsters and police. To my mind those boundaries look like this:

The Job of Outlaw Gangsters is to manage the Black-Market trades in sex, (recreational)drugs, and anarchy, or vigilante justice, to ensure the State does not have a monopoly on violence.

The Job of State Police is to protect State Citizens from the self-serving interests of Outlaw Gangsters, of whom every nation has some by default – I am a prostitute and my boyfriend is a drug-trafficker because there was insufficient Supply of such professionals to meet the Demand in our isolated northern Canadian hometown, not because we are inherently ‘bad people’, and regardless of what our guidance counselors may have recommended, we were the best fit for the roles, me because I am crafty and sexually-voracious, him because he’s a suave upper-class goon. Police are not protecting citizens from much when they confiscate drugs or send a drug-trafficker to jail. At most they are further reducing the quality of drugs on the street to compensate for the loss of potential profit after a raid and opening a vacancy for a newer, meaner, smarter drug-trafficker. Vancouver took out the Bacon Brothers and now look what’s shown up that will be much harder to dislodge. Police protect citizens when they prevent drug-traffickers from selling to minors and ensure the purity of drugs by punishing any trafficker who dilutes, tampers with, or sells impure or mislabeled product. So, instead of cops going undercover to catch a guy for selling drugs and bust him, police should go undercover to catch the guys cutting drugs, wherever they happen to be on the pyramid and whatever they happen to be cutting with that defies purity standards, and bust them.  So the quality and reliability of black-market recreational drugs is assured to citizens without these drugs needing to be bought from an alienating government vending-machine with tax.

The Black-Market is inherently violent so as to be self-governing. While it should be police duty to protect citizens from gangland violence, and if any citizen is injured or extorted by a gangster or sold phony drugs police ought to investigate and incarcerate the responsible party, meanwhile gangster-on-gangster violence is none of police business. If a gangster shoots a citizen witness to cover up for himself that gangster should be shot by other gangsters cause he gives them a bad name. If they fail to do so the police can have him, but both police and fellow gangsters should hold gangsters to proper etiquette among their own - if laws are changed so there’s no longer so much needing to be covered up on the Black-Market, less people will die stupidly. If gangsters are legally-recognized as having the right to dispatch violence against their own kind it becomes very important for gangsters to clearly define who has entered the ranks of outlaw death-dealers and have those people be marked with patches or tattoos or ‘made’ to signify consent to vigilante gangland justice, live by the sword die by the sword, and who by contrast is a citizen warranting the Nanny State’s protection. While in many outlaw gangs this is effectively the Code-of-Honor, enshrining it in civilian law holds gangsters up to their own romantic self-images as relatable, family-man antiheros, rather than condemning them as criminals undeserving of freedoms comparatively to the kind of guys who become cops or graphic designers when they grow up. To know that police will only peruse violence against civilians as deserving investigation and court time will, I think, prevent professional gangsters, most of whom are deft liars and sociopathic death-fetishists with extreme power complexes, from hurting civilians to cover up for their being in an ‘evil’ power-mongering cult with a bunch of other weird black-clad bros who like phallicy weapons and lurking and scheming and gelling their hair for a living.

Examples of Civilians who warrant State Police Protection include but are not limited to

-sex-workers employed by gangster-pimps working at clubs and brothels run by gangsters are not themselves gangsters unless the women have been sworn in to a gang and are somehow marked by a tattoo or it will be pretty obvious branding. Feminist separationist outlaw gangs exist and these mostly function exactly as do the patriarchal outlaw gangs – by strict hierarchy enforced by violence. Gangster women, like gangster men, are marked by tattoo or patch, but there are far fewer of them than gangster men, and most women who hang out with gangsters are citizens, sex-workers, wives, family-members and girlfriends, and ought to be protected by state police from attack by outlaw gangsters, who are by nature and necessity violent people.  Any misogynistic violence is to be reported, perused and punished. Misogynistic violence is the most insidious and destructive violence, far worse and more damaging than greedy men in gangs shooting each other for their kicks.

-low-level gang soldiers who are being taken advantage of or bullied by gangsters need to be able to go to police for protection if they are being treated unfairly. Any hang-around who hasn’t been made or marked should be protected from his superiors by state police if requested. Establishing a ‘made gangsters police their own; underlings get state protection’-law would hopefully deter made gangsters from abusing their sycophants, however, if you decide to start working for as a soldier for a gangster you should be aware of what you are getting yourself into - the gangsters could make you disappear and even if your family goes to the cops for ‘justice’ their leads would be slim.

-Children and other family members of gangsters are not gangsters until they are ‘made’ and should be protected from domestic violence by the civilian state. Any gangster caught selling drugs to minors or attempting to recruit youth to a gang or sex-work ought to be imprisoned.

Dealing with Addicts
Another of the reasons the Drug-Trade is inherently violent is because of Addicts, either money-addicts or drug-addicts, both of whom will try to rob you. If you sell a dangerous addictive substance like cocaine or heroin at a street level it makes sense to go about armed: you want the advantage over your customers and for them to know it. At wholesale levels, to minimize the risk of being two-timed or ripped-off, a violent gang-law drug-trade vigilante-justice system must remain in place. Besides state-approved pychoactive emporiums for Joe-Blow and his shopping-cart being a horrifying prospect, citizens innately fear the inherent violence of the Drug-Trade as being inappropriate for bureaucratic governments to engage in - patriotic war espionage in a foreign country is one thing, openly acknowledging the CIA are rubber-stamped drug-traffickers and black-market assassins is another, for your average middle-class voter, whom I am not. Wholesale drug-trafficking should, I think, be engaged in by ‘made’ gangsters who have consented to ‘the Game’, essentially-meaning they have relinquished state police protection in favor of gang support should they find themselves on the nasty end of a vigilante justice campaign, and understand the risks inherent in the business: if you break the rules of the Game and get hurt no one will feel sorry for you. At the street level, I think it is morally acceptable to have an addict physically-harmed to the point they require hospitalization ( where they will hopefully be persuaded to seek treatment ) should the addict persist in trying to buy a dangerous drug after a set Cut-off Limit. Or, if that’s too gory for you, and they live in a country where neither trafficking drugs nor buying them is an imprisonable offence, the dealer could call the cops on the addict, and have him removed to somwheres where he would hopefully be persuaded to seek treatment. Hopefully such a Code-of-Honor and mutual understanding with state police ( the addict is a citizen and should be protected from trying to kill himself with drugs and from outlaw gangster violence even if he’s stupidly asking for it by pestering his dealer ) will reduce the risk from persistent addicts to the fullest extent possible under the circumstances.

I think even in a country where drug-trafficking is no-longer an imprisonable offense, rather an ‘”illegal” black-market trade’ no one is going to arrest you for, because illicit drugs are very valuable and the people who traffic in them are very daring and heists are therefore always a risk, drugs trafficking routes will be kept on a need-to-know basis, and drugs will be smuggled in, and should still be searched for at airports, bordercrossings, ports, etc, and, if found, confiscated, tested for purity, and, if pure, resold to the financial gain of the government, to gangsters with good reputations, and the incompetent smugglers charged; or, if diluted, destroyed, and the offending gangsters fined or imprisoned and given a criminal record for tampering and incompetent smuggling, which will count against them on their underworld resume once they get out of prison. Same goes for those noisy street-pushers. Even if having and selling drugs isn’t an imprisonable offense if you’re out there disturbing a community you should be imprisoned or fined for being a nuisance. A careful drug-dealer who does house-calls is a minimal risk to neighborhood sanctity. And if you’re running your big mouth about where you keep your stash, you’re going to get robbed, in which case the police are under no obligation to help you find your stolen black-market drugs.

I think a table of Illicit Recreational Drug Purity Standards should be drafted and regularly revised and updated as the standard to which all drugs available on the Black-Market are be held. Anyone caught selling or making drugs that do not meet the purity standards will be arrested and imprisoned. The main goal of police as regards drug-traffickers should be Quality and Discretion Control. As well as busting nuisance dealers, police should go undercover to test the purity of drugs, establish a pipeline for impure drugs, and arrest and convict those gangsters guilty of knowingly or unknowingly making or selling impure drugs, with the sentences according to ill-intent, ie a stupid street-pusher too lazy and greedy to test his drugs himself gets less time than a boss who knowingly cuts his drugs to inflate profits or a chemist who makes a slapdash product that endangers lives. Illicit drug purity test kits should be widely available to the public, so users can test the drugs they buy, and if contaminated phone police and report their shoddy dealer who will be arrested and convicted.

Black-Market Money
Because I think the Black- and the Licit-Markets ought to be acknowledged as separate, distinct, but dually-necessary and interrelated economies, to the extent this is the reality the money should be kept separate. Not that there should be two kinds of cash currency, because that would be a headache, but selling sex, drugs, and anarchy is a cash business, and if someone walks in a Licit-Market bank with a bunch of cash he should be viewed as suspicious and reported to police. Drug-money and prostitution-money and stolen-money, etc, ‘dirty-money’ does not belong in a Licit-Market Bank, it belongs in its own kind of bank – Black-Market’ or ‘Offshore’ Banks. And money should not be transferred electronically between a Black-Market Bank and a Licit-Market Bank - that ought to be a crime and investigated if heard about and punished. If you want to reinvest dirty-money in the Licit-Economy you should have to take it out in cash and spend it in cash. This I think will help keep gangster Licit-Market businesses and gangster Black-Market businesses relatively distinct for tax purposes. The Licit-Market is taxed and the Black-Market is not - the minute you launder your dirty money through your licit business you should have to pay taxes on it, while taxing money made on the Black-Market would defeat its purpose, which is to be the mysterious, seedy, selfish brother of the transparent and wholesome and civic-minded Licit-Market.

Licit-Market Recreational Drugs
Some recreational drugs are ‘safe’, safe enough to be sold on the Licit-Market as well as the Black-Market. Some, like coffee and tea, are so safe selling them on the Black-Market is pointless unless there’s a national shortage. A list should be tabulated of recreational drugs ‘safe’ enough to be grown by sanctioned farms, taxed, and sold in Licit-Market stores to card-carrying adults. This list should include but not be limited to alcohol, marijuana, tobacco, coffee and tea, and should be regularly revised and updated. The most important recreational drug to add to the List of Licit-Market Recreational Drugs grown on farms and available in stores and taxed by the government in Canada is marijuana, which is evidentially safer than alcohol, the most dangerous drug on the Licit-Market List, and alcohol should remain the most dangerous drug on the Licit-Market Recreational Drugs List forever. Even if they are available in Licit-Market stores, however, anyone should be allowed to grow marijuana or tobacco, or make alcohol, and sell it on the Black-Market at their discretion. That is called being an adult. However if a bad product is being sold on the Black-Market it should be reported and that vendor investigated and their operation shut down. Also if your black-market grow-show gets robbed by gangsters you dont get police help tracking your product down or insurance on it because you didnt have a permit. Conversely perscription medications that have recreational capacity, such as Xanax or Adderall or Ritalin or Perscription Opiates, will be sold on the Black-Market to people without a perscription, that's just how it goes, but if someone is stealing perscription drugs from a hospital or from sick people, that's not ethical, and should be punished. 


-When the civilian state drafts and attempts to enforce harsh laws that are unenforceable and based in shaky moral hypocrisies, this weakens the civilian state to the point it can be collapsed by a frank letter from an outlaw gangster.

-Misogyny is the most dangerous and insidious form of violence. Gangsters aren’t brought down by police, they’re brought down by the metaphysical power of their women, whose behavior reflects their own emotional reality. Cosa Nostra was the most sophisticated criminal cartel in North America because the Sicilians held their relationships to women to a higher standard than other ethic gangsters. They had it down to a formula. So now they take their orders from me, a creative feminist.

-Gangsters get away with what they do on the Black-Market that is amoral as regards society as a whole to the extent civilians deny the validity or existence of the Black-Market. The Mafia was able to entrench itself in America’s most powerful cities because for the longest time, decades, police were either bribed or told a transnational organized criminal cartel of intermarried Sicilians was a myth. The Hell’s Angels were able to brutally murderously drive out opposition to their monopoly of the outlaw biker scene because the general public wants to see the Hell’s Angels as manly sympathetic ruffians who only dabble in crime to the extent we all do. My boyfriend was able to manage brothels and nightclubs for kids right under the town’s nose because his dad was the Judge. I am able to topple the Canadian Government with my nudie blog because no one suspected a nudie blog of being capable of such things.

-What is happening in Pacific Canada at the beginning of the 21st century is what happened in Sicily at the beginning of the 20th century. An innovative organized criminal clan culture has organically sprouted due to various social and environmental pressures. In both cases, fertile soil for intergenerational organized criminal establishments gestated in isolated small towns. In both cases mistrust of distant, oppressive government overlords fermented inbred cultism and black-market professionalism. In both cases potential for corruption of the highest state government officials by the criminal cult and consequently a dim ‘second state’ emerged. In both cases the likelihood that licit state government will be able eradicate the shadow organized criminal clan cultures from their nations is unlikely. Every nation on earth is particularly good at something. Sicilians are particularly talented at patriarchal gangsterism. Westcoast Canadians are particularly talented at feminist gangsterism, the more powerful of the two modes of gangsterism, as it is the more ethical.

I think I what I have written here makes sense and is easy to follow and would make a good foundation for an Ethical Drug-Trade in Canada. More sense than how the Drug-Trade is arranged now, with selling drugs considered an Imprisonable Offence by the State, but a conviction easily avoided for top-tier traffickers who never touch the drugs they order around, most of which slip through the State’s square fingers, while quality control of the abundant Black-Market Recreational Drug Supply is wholly absent: greedy unethical drug-dealers get rich poisoning people who have consented with their money to getting high illegally on what might be poison but have no way to hold their dealer accountable for the product they have paid for. ‘Heroin’ ‘cocaine’ ‘mdma’ ‘mushrooms’ ‘hash’ ‘meth’ ‘angel dust’ ‘crack’ - it might be anything and there’s no way to know and no one to call if it’s not what you paid for. The responsibility of state police is to protect citizens from potentially violent gangsters, and that responsibility is not being lived up to in a hypocritical legal culture where the act of selling a drug to a consenting user is considered a crime worse than mislabeling what you are selling. The Black-Market is a reality in every country in the world. Gangsterism is a well-paid profession in every country in the world. In every country in the world, somebody sells illicit recreational drugs. In this part of the world, you better be glad it’s going to be me, an honest and ethical human being who wont even bother to rig your elections. VOTE or DON’T the Black-Market Gangster’s Rights Fun Party rulez.

This has been Andrea Coates with LLWAM


New Year's Resolutions 2015

It’s a New Year and you’re Right Friends – I’m Crazy and out of Touch with Reality!

For 2015 let VICE CEO Shane Smith remain married to a woman who doesnt want to be on TV news with him, isn’t interested in 3somes with Lindsay Lohan, wouldn’t care to hunt terrorists with guns, has never called him the King of Canada, has no idea how to be a dominatrix.  

For 2015 let the Judge remain an anonymous hypocritical cog of the provincial bureaucracy. He’s not even a Supreme Court Judge. He has never made a difference in this country except to me maybe and let it stay that way. Let him die an old man who never existed outside of my imagination on the internet and never had sex with any much younger women.

For 2015 let the Judge’s son G not reveal himself as a biker gangster. Have him get a job at a gym to pay off his student loans. Have him get married and move to Saanich and ride a fully-dressed motorcycle on weekends and watch internet porn that isn’t mine with his same alcoholic dude friends he’s had since highschool.

For 2015 let Lana Del Rey continue to make insulting sentimental music videos about a make-believe sex-worker and her make-believe gangster boyfriend and sugar daddies. Let her marry that photographer she’s dating who looks like G’s brother and move to Italy and become a washed-up socialite with 3 children.


Andrea Coates who cares


"My Struggle" by Karl Ove Knausgaard. the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo helps anOther Grumpy Old White Man out of his Acclaimed Funk

including! Autobiographical Novelists

Hay L. Enjoying the Karl Ove book. Thought I should send him one of my whacky celebrity letters. He wants to know about the Great Canadian Autobiographer, right? Who was that friend of yours who started chatting with him and where were you guys? England? I thought if I introed the letter with “I am Andrea Coates I am connected to these and these people you met in real life you probably remember because you remember EVERYTHING” he might read the rest of the letter. Or should I make it totally mysterious? It would depend on your willingness to be associated with me in this context, because the letter would be me trying to show off to him how I am also a Serious Brooding Writer of Large Tomes of Weighty Self-Analysis but with a Better Sense of Humor than he’s got and More Guts  - it would be Andrea being kooky to try and counterbalance how very dry and deadpan he is to get him to admire me in my different style, which would only maybe work, but whether successful or not it’s what I like to do in my letters to celebrities, they never answer but I get a lot of fun out of trying to shock them and affect them subconsciously. You get what I mean about you having the choice of being referenced by me, who has major stalker tendencies I wouldn’t want you to be accessory to unfairly, or helping me track down his email from your friend so I can stalk him. Of course you’re the one who gave me his book knowing he’s exactly the kind of Writer Ego I would confront with my Writer Ego. We talked about the Writer Egos being highly competitive with one another: I feel compelled to try and impress or outdo him simply because he exists and is writing large complex novels like I like to write. Otherwise – if you do/don’t want to help me get his email – I will put the letter on my website and call it a review. 


Dear Karl Ove

My name is Andrea Coates. You met my cousin, L, at a book sellers meeting? In England? You talked to her friend ? about Norwegian Film? an obscurity for a Canadian. You probably remember because you seem to remember everything. You Sir are the Great Scandinavian Man Autobiographer, that much is clear to us Snobs; meanwhile I am the Great Canadian Woman Autobiographer, the Snobs haven’t found me, I am young and female and ostensibly delusional. I think I am World’s Greatest Whore who writes Novels for Fun, Pornstar Queen of Canada, Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, Biker Gangster Bitche Boo Boo Bam Bam LLWAM Mistre$$ to the Stars. It’s cause I was raped by a Judge. Thats the Origin Story for my Goth-Hooker Cartoon Showoff. Turned me into a nymphomaniacal man-bashing feminist outlaw with high-self esteem. I would straight-up suggest we have sex Karl, I could tell you so much about how that would be good for your literary career and other things ( like your fucking scowl! ), but you’re married and I don’t know what that means to you. I found this on Wikipedia: “In a radio interview with his estranged ex-wife, Tonje Aursland, who plays a central part in several of the Min Kamp books, Knausgård admits that he sometimes feels that he has made a ‘Faustian bargain’— that he has achieved enormous success by sacrificing his relationships with friends and members of his family.” Hahahahhahahah yeah Karl Ove that’s how it goes. Kill your darlings. I’m hard on the wives Karl, but don’t blame me the Big Man only wants a little girlie like me insofaras he already has his wife and children. How’s my timing? Important to A Comedian. Without the wife to pick up the slack a woman like me will eat you up and shit you out. No kidding. You could tell that to your wife when you bring up this fan letter. She’s a writer which might make it harder but you made a Faustian Bargain to get your great book success Karl Ove and the Devil sent his very scaryiest harpy to make good on the debt, which is actually exactly right, and how our thing works. My cousin L, who knows what kinds of books I like and the size of my literary ego, gave me a copy of Min Kamp, Book 1, A Death in the Family, with your Naziass face on it. I put a rainbow heart sticker between your eyes cause your serious novelist mugshot was giving me the creeps dude. So far in your Epic Struggle you’re an average middle-class teenager in a lousy band and right now in the zillionth edit of mine ( first chapters of a multi-volume philosophical semi-fictional memoir titled SplendidinSanity here soso on the internet ) I am in a middle-class teenager in a successful street gang. I’m sorry for what I said about your marriage. The leader of the drug gang was the Judge’s son. He taught me how to be a prostitute for his dad and now I project them onto everyone, seek gangsters and old men to fight and occasional sex with, instead of other perhaps more lucrative endevours. I want to be a great novelist but being a hooker in a death cult is all I have to write a great novel about. I couldn’t make up a story more ridickulous than what has actually happened to me Karl. You were a pretty average kid Karl. That you’re such an astute makes up for the lack of plot in your life ‘novel’. My life meanwhile has never lacked for narrative thrust. I took recreational drugs and grew up to be a sex-worker for the Hell’s Angels, let that be a lesson to your kids. One way to look at it. Another way to look at it is I was so badly emotionally-scarred by dating a teen sociopath I made up a story about his mean dad touching me to teach his stuck-up family a lesson about neglecting your mistress ( never a good idea Karl ). What’s the other way we can look at Min Kamp Karl? On one hand being a talented Norwegian writer is so banal, on the other hand what a great book! Aw, poor Karl Ove. If you care about where the novel is headed do read about him and his dad struggling through their contemporary functionality.
uhhhh I'm Karl Ove I'm so Aesthetically Tormented in my Isolated Nordic Man Genius but why??????????
how to be the Great Artist hrrrrm maybe if I transcribe everything in Painstaking Detail mmmmrrr struggle maybe I have Emotions hrrrrrrrrr but Only from a Distance ffttttthhhhhh ahhhhhhh the Distance between my Brain and my Penis hkkkrmmm or my Cigarette and my Mouth ahemhemhem or me and my Dad hahahahahaha there's another 20 Pages of Classic Patriarchal White-Supremacist Literature Honey Bacon splaat sizzle and fry
P 157 describes you perfectly about a gf's dad: “Laconic? I said. It’s hard to describe. A bit dry and matter-of-fact, perhaps exaggeratedly matter-of-fact, I said. Sort of understated.” Yes indeed Karl Ove and the 3500 pages go on like that is my guess. Good eating. How does it sound in Norwegian? Garble garble grrrr garble grrr grrr ah. I’m sorry Karl. That was xenophobic. First I threaten your marriage, then I make fun of your language. Do you get? Like what if one day you received a letter. And the letter was so odd you couldn’t think about it, let alone write about it, in the same laconic style you had used to process all the life experiences leading up to the strange letter. Would you ignore such a letter, because it didn’t fit in the emotional constraints you imposed on your life? or would you read the letter as angelic intervention? What would it be like to receive a letter from the female version of you, Great Nordic Writer Man? She could try to mirror your own style back at you, drawnout descriptions of the minutea of days with a small child and partner oooooooooh details, to impress you with how similar we are - I am also deathly bored and trying to immerse myself in what is provided to that end, shall we have an affair so you can write another memoir about how you fucked up another marriage hahahahahahhaha? – or she could try and figure out what excitement is missing from your lengthy self-conscious not-a-plot and provide that instead. now we have a plot!
Help me out Karl, Scandinavia needs a Wakeupcall
Dear Sweden: these are Actually Pictures of Andrea Coates, and her Pimp, G, the Hell's Angles from Canada. therefore u owe but can u pay?
Millennial Generation Indigo BLU Bitche AC HA HA HA
with a stock-character from a barely-believable Noir. La femme fatale. Not a woman who breaks your heart, Karl, unintentionally or intentionally, a genuine back-alley woman with a gun and a loony conspiracy and an impossibly sexy unattainably manipulative streak. A street dominatrix. Not that it’s me necessarily ( it probably is me Karl there aren’t that many granddame of blackleather femme fatale writerfuckers out there Karl ) but your book could use a wise-cracking metalhead lolita tramp, that would finally challenge the growly man protagonist stuck on his perpetual sad boner :( You haven’t had the bestest luck with women have you Karl? But not worse than my luck with men and I think your wife stays by you even if I show up and prattle about your house and tell your children I am a Computer Hacker from a Swedish Mystery Thriller come to Life! to give them Canadian Trinkets on Christmas Ho Ho Ho!

It might be nice if I could talk to you about something other than my curiosity as to whether or not we have hot sex but that would be dishonest. Everyone who is anyone has sex with me and puts me in their art – Karl Ove. Some people just think about having sex with me and put that in their art – Stieg Larsson. Some people – Lana Del Rey – think they are me but without the sex! Knausgaard believes that to create literature of lasting value, a writer must try to carve out a freedom from the strictures of society, to stand outside the realm where consideration comes before honesty. I agree wholeheartedly Karl. That quote’s from an essay about how much guilt you feel for exposing your friends and family as you remember them. I don’t feel guilt about rendering my friends and family as they have been and are. Maybe they’ll go after me like people went after you but my family has never done wrong by anyone and my superficial friends abandoned me cause they cant handle themselves. Tant pis. They know I’ve been writing a novel about them, they know I have a blog journal, but they don’t read it because they don’t want to see themselves through my eyes, that would mean dropping their bourgeois shtick for the revolution I have planned, a much bigger commitment than a mere tirade about reputations or privacy. Being a Great Artist almost unequivocally means you are stealing from the lives of those less talented than you for to give their lives greater significance than they would otherwise have and being honest about it is your only defense, like I’m so honest people pretend I don’t exist Karl, which allows me to sneak into back rooms and spy on liars. Maybe you too – pretend this letter doest exist because it’s so sincere in its confessions: there’s no way Karl you can appreciate me as a Great Writer, which I am have you noticed? without appreciating me as a harlot who writes well. It’s not clear where a person goes, Geir [ Karl’s Friend ] remarks, when “everything is fulfilled.” He finds a terrifying incomprehensible much-younger fuck-buddy, a gothique manic pixie dream girl with reassuringly possessive pimps ( otherwise the risk of losing the wife is too great to take for the man who has it all ), and declares himself the King of Norway with a Sword. I know because I’m that woman to every man who thought he had it all. I have the power to turn whole lives upsidedown with singular letters. My mind is a floodlight that can x-ray your soul meanwhile you are blinded. I sound arrogant but I am trying to be accurate to how odd are my relationships to people – I entertain myself by reordering international politics around dudes I maybe want to fuck. I think men who think too much need to be shocked out of it. How do you shock a man who thinks too much? He’s already explained everything away and if you do something shocking he’ll try to rationalize it. Such men are attracted to women with ‘mental illness’, which is merely a projection of their own twisted over-examined emotions onto their women. Your wife is bipolar? See, I think, slut’s wisdom, two writers living together is the worst idea, if they both want to be Great Writers. To the extent they both want to be writers they must live apart. In order for them to live together one sacrifices their talent to the other for them both to be successful, usually the wife for the man. Your writer wife sacrificed to you and you wrote a great book and now your children have money. I live with a multi-media artist named jody franklin who since living alone with me cannot seem to work on much – to be productive in general he belongs in a communal home with others less despotic than myself, I belong on my own, but a visitor and contributer to many lives, including yours I think. The biggest egos go to writing, the most difficult art, and the biggest egos crave the most space and are most jealous of their competitors. Great writers are like big cats Karl. Here I am, the Cougar. I think you are a Snow Leopard.
Yup. A Snow Leopard. 
Otherwise, if it's okay to read your Opus as a long groan for help so you dont die of boredom coloring in the status-quos, I read half one book in your long series of long drawnout boring books about how gloomy are you and your Dead Norwegian Daddy with being normal and middle-class and I’ve decided what you need to do for a mood-booster Karl is reexamine your monogamous marriage bind and take up playing with broadswords or some other big phallicy weapon symbol. Maybe a battle axe. Become Lion Viking Karl Ove!
Dress like a Viking talk like a Viking fuck like a Viking fight like a Viking. Write epic novels about your life and keep your wife and a humble rotation of girlfriends. That’s my therapeutic advice Karl. You don’t even have to pay me, cause Im your friend and friends are expected to perform such um for free. Then your family will forgive you for writing about them and you’ll forgive your dad for dying so weird. How I did that Karl? Pulled a fast one on. Your life is completely different. One moment to the next. You were a morose reclusive man genius and now you’re a Viking Leopard. Who could resist. What you lack Karl Ove is an imagination. What I lack Karl Ove is credibility. Because I am a very high-level prostitute, I am preoccupied with figuring out who I will have sex with before I actually have sex with them. Think about it Karl Ove – if you, or your fictional alter-ego, were a well-trained prostitute setting honey traps on behalf of masters with illuminati world domination ambitions, wouldn’t you devine who are your clients before you met them? I have spent several years on the internet looking for the tell-tale signs a particular person has met me and has engaged in ritualistic sex acts with me. People who have engaged in ritualistic sex acts develop talents and abilities beyond those who have monogamous or even polyamorous relationships. People who have been with me seek me. They drop subtle or not so subtle hints as to their longing for me. Often a ritual sex act with a sacred prostitute is one of the cornerstones of a person's life, it reverberates through time, echoes in their actions and their arts long before I show my hand. I figure out the dynamics of my relationship with someone before the other person figures out I exist. There are dozens of such people most of them world leaders in various fields. I stalk them. I write letters to them, letters that don’t get sent or are tossed out by interns and secretaries – crazy groupie! –and the years go by and the men stay with their wives and at their jobs but I crawl deeper and deeper into their minds I appear mired in gunk with my letters I keep writing, I look at their secret longings while they work at their jobs and fuck their wives.
So it goes Karl Ove. I write them into my novel life as cruel fetishists and confused hypocrites. Painted Penelope at her loom waiting for her Pimp Odysseus to return but he cant until the Bigger Richer Men have had their fill and died. So it goes Karl Ove. And we will kill ourselves with Swords, the Indigo Children. I weave the tapestry and then I untangle it. I give them their fetishes, save their marriages, improve their job titles, clean their lakes. Maybe it sounds arrogant but I’m actually a girl who gets raped a lot. I walk up to Big Man I say hey Big Man you wanna fight and I necessarily lose, if only in the physical dimension. That’s how the men become world leaders. They steal energy and beauty from me, they take it by force, they beat and choke it out of me. I try to help them with their bad moods and their failing marriages and their bullshit careers and take from them what I need in return because if I don’t I will surely die. Knife to the chest Karl Ove and what do you do? Hold a sword under your chin and drive it through your head? So it goes King Karl Ove and your Children will inherit the Fjords.

This may be harsh for you to hear Karl but your Daddy died of an Unfulfiled Mistress Complx. Same thing almost killed the Judge. What your Dad should have had Karl was a steady wife and an occasional mistress. But he couldnt fathom living like that and keeping his Job. So he broke up with his wife and moved in with his mistress, became an alcoholic and drank himself to death. The end. Sad. Dont make the same mistake Karl. Times have changed ma-an and you're a famous writer. I mean Articulate Viking.

Yours Truly


You and People like U
La Reine des Neiges
  • Today
  • Andrea Coates
    Andrea Coates

    On second thought I think Karl should read the letter because I'm pretty sure his dad died of an unfulfilled mistress complex - like he wanted two women but that would have cost him his job so he switched women but that wasnt fulfilling so he drank himself to death. Mistress complexes are inherited. Karl Ove has one. Hense his unshackable discomfort in the 'family-man' role. And is therefore also at risk of going nuts if he doesnt find a suitable arrangement with his wife. At first I thought - ha ha IIt might be hard for him to hear but I dont think he would have written the book unless he was hoping for some sort of insight as to why his dad went crazy and commited suicide.
  • Andrea Coates
    Andrea Coates

    little bit awkward but I always try and figure out what an artist's repressed desires are. Like Tao Lin wants two wives, a dominant and a submissive, Megan Boyle and Marie Calloway. Or Shane Smith is a bisexual with a backwards mistress complex in love with a dominatrix and in a fake marriage to his nanny. Or Lana wants to marry a politician and fuck his gangster brother on the side and covet his dad from afar. Or Lindsay Lohan is a bisexual mistress of mine and Shane Smith's. Or James Franco is a bisexual submissive in love with a transkid dom. It goes on. Most the writers I read are dead or medicore. Karl Ove is neither dead nor mediocre. Lucky him. So its quite possible I'm his mistress. In which case he really wants to read that letter. It's also possible he would reject the idea his dad died because he couldnt maintain a marriage and a mistress and a job, was forced to choose one or the others and couldnt live with either sacrafice, so drank himself to death, and that Karl would subsequently reject the idea that I'm his mistress, in which case I've been rejcted before another day another letter.
  • Andrea Coates
    Andrea Coates

    Like, didnt you tell me he started skyping with your friend? why? what do they talk about? Norwegian film? What's he doing skyping with a Canadian woman he met at a conference who happens to have been encouraged to talk to him by you who is my cousin and I'm the Great Canadian Novelist who is convinced she's the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo from that Other Famous Scandanavian book and a professional mistress who writes to famous men about their secret fantasy affairs? Get where I'm going with this? now I think it's our duty to tell Karl about my blog.

Kal Ove's first published novel
He reads through in the final pages of A Death in the Family and thinks - I wrote this for Dad
Artsy-Fartsy Man falls in Love with 13yo pupil
Uhhuh. Where did that come from Karl, your Dad? What a fucking cliche

Dear Women Generally: if your husband has written a fancy prose novel about a man who resembles himself falling in love with a girl-child your husband is going to fall in love with the first girl-child shows signs of being able to write a fancy prose novel about a man who resembles himself. Please Spare the Children. Take me instead, I'm past 16 and 26 going on 46.


He showed me some pictures by Jock Sturges, they were quite exceptional, I had never seen anything like them, and we selected one, of a long-limbed girl, twelve years old perhaps, or thirteen, standing naked with her back to us and looking across a lake. It was beautiful but also charged, pure but also threatening, and possessed an almost iconic quality. In another magazine there was an advertisement where the writing was white in two blue strips, or boxes; they decided to snatch the idea, but do it in red, and half an hour later Yngve had the cover ready. The publishers were given five different proposals, but were in little doubt, the Sturges one was the best, and the book due to come out in a few months' time bore the young girl on the cover. It was asking for trouble: Sturges was a controversial photographer, his house had been turned upside down by FBI agents, I had read, and searching for his name on the net I found some of the links always led to child pornography sites. Yet I had not seen any photographer reproduce the rich world of childhood in such an impressive way, Sally Mann included. So I was happy about that. Min Kamp, Book 1, p256

Whooooooo is the Young Girl, Karl? What Lake?

You mean this One? In Northern Canada? Me and the Judge and his Son lived on?  Far Ute Av Verden, Dude. Pub.1998. Andrea Coates 10 Years Old

Where some see meaningless coincidencal lakes and faces Karl I see an epic story!

Jesus Christ Creepy Old Man dont you hate it when People read over your Shoulder?

How Many reNowned Books Karl have been written about an Old Man who falls in love with an Adolescent Girl? Comparatively to how Many Famous Books about an Adolescent Girl convinced a Clever Older Man is going to rape her?  

Has Any Publisher or Wife or Psychiatrist ever brought this incongruency up with you, Karl?

I call that Misogyny I think it's a Terrible Crime

The Second Book in your Middle-Class Epic King Karl Ove of Norway is called A Man in Love. I haven’t read it, I would like to ( I would read your shopping lists, Karl, even if they were in Norwegian ), but do I have to? A word like laconic describes not only a man’s whole terse personality and literary style but also how he uses his penis, the latter defines the former. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. One for each book in your Struggle Karl, I don’t care how many times you jump back and forth in time you can joust better than that and better learn if you care to return to the homeland and establish your dynasty. I think when you write a tell-all about your marriage(s) and your wife supports it you’re both giving the A-Okay for any nosy opinionated blogger on the internets to psychoanalyze your sexual dysfunctions. The question is do you have the stomach to read what I, a vicious wit and gold-digging man-thief, have to say about what is going on in the nuclear bed-head? Four kids Karl. That’s a lot of kids. You can either keep having kids Karl or recognize that after a certain point, continuing to impregnate your wife when you’re a literary celebrity ( literary – the most ‘tormented’ of the celebrities Karl ) is a compensation mechanism for how you haven’t figured out how to use your penis for something other than producing heirs, which is another way of saying you’re holding back Karl, and that’s probably because you’re a 6’4” snow-bound bundle of raw emotional neuroses, which is the polite way to say if you didn’t hold back by thinking about those cute innocent babies you would break your wife in half. Awwww. I have observed in my short life: the kind of woman who wants to fuck a postModern Scandinavian as if he were a Mythical Viking has limited interest in being a faithful homemaker and supportive artist after getting fucked, like Karl Ove the postModern Viking wants in a Scandinavian wife after he fucks her, which means he has troubling fucking his wife like a Viking, which is a tragedy for the Scandinavian people, read their sad literature about it. The kind of Present-day women who scheme to love Mythical Vikings become Biker Hookers Karl, like in that other dumb book about me that’s famous where you live. I want you to stay with your wife Karl, for the sake of the kids, and your mental and emotional and physical health and so forth, but if you’re going to be with your wife for the rest of your life you need to deal with your father’s lingering ghost, and he wants to rape a teenage girl Karl, and I don’t think your wife wants to pretend to be a teenage girl getting raped by your dad. But you could ask.

In Book 1, near the end, Yngve is like “Dad is going to sue you” ( instead he dies ) about the release of Ute Av Verden, the Norwegian Critics Prize for Literature debut novel with the pathetically cliché pedophilia motif. In the book Humbert is Henrik and he’s our author Knausgaard’s generation and has parents who resemble Karl’s parents – daddy is an alcoholic. Gosh Karl, if that insensitive patriarchal sploog you wrote won a top prize in my country I would bomb the fucking office. But. My distaste for indulgent man-self-discovery novels about sexy sex sexy teenage girls ( there was one Lolita Karl there doesn’t need to be another ) aside – what I think happened is the real teacher Knausgaard, Daddy, like many decent men, could have used a bit of extra-extra now and then, a side-tail, but his solitary nature and middle-class marriage and job as a teacher and Norwegian cliquishness did not provide him with the opportunity to meet the kind of woman who would have made a suitable mistress. Very few women make suitable mistresses because being a mistress is a thankless job, worse even than the thankless role of wife and mother to an introverted provider-husband and his replacement sons. A mistress is expected to be on call at all times, to know how to keep her mouth shut, to be sexually-talented as the most experienced prostitute ( but not so indiscriminate ). The ideal mistress is an isolated nymphomaniac, which is a tragic contradiction. Real life mistresses are susceptible to drug-abuse. Maybe Daddy Knausgaard wished his dead cousin, mentioned at a party in Book 1, and drunk Daddy cries, that female cousin he got on so well with, were still alive. She would have kept her mouth shut. So shut she asphyxiated. I mean died mysteriously. What Daddy Knausgaard the asocial school-teacher with the traditional mistress complex was exposed to lot of was adolescents. So what I think happened is totally independent of his better mind he started having sexual fantasies about one of the girls he taught, or several, or – even worse – a boy. His guilt is why he’s a lingering ghost. This was obviously a problem so Daddy Knausgaard did what seemed like a reasonable alternative – he started going to parties with colleagues to try and find an adult mistress. But of course this put a strain on his marriage and he and your mother Karl separated. Daddy Knausgaard moved in with the woman, Unni, who maybe would have made a relaxing nip, but the thing about having a mistress complex as opposed to being in the wrong marriage and leaving…the longing is to have two ( or more ) women, a woman to live with and women to visit. Traditional mistress complex is not being polygamous, or being serial-monogamous, or being totally fixated on sex-workers like with the backward mistress complex, which is what the Judge’s son has because he was born out of his dad’s repressed wish for a prostitute mistress. Traditional mistress complex is a bitter pill to swallow for both the wife and the mistress – the man you married wants you to share him with some floozy or the man you like to have sex with sees you as unworthy of marrying. So the emotionally-unselfaware Patriarch Daddy Knausgaard, living with his girlfriend like she was his second wife, got fed-up with life Karl and decided to drink himself to death, which is a shitty way to commit suicide, it takes a really long time, but, silver-lining, gave you something to write a great novel about, eh Karl? Telling himself - at least I didn’t rape a child.

Back to the teenage girl who got caught in the cross-hairs. Mistress complexes are inherited down the patriarchal line, if not biologically than psycho-ecologically. One married man in the family gets it in his loins to seek a thrilling mystery casual sex partner, usually a younger woman. The kind of woman a man fixates on when he is looking for a mistress is different than the kind of woman he desires in a wife – he usually only notices the craving for the mistress-type insofar as he is already married with children, settled into his role as father-figure, or trying to escape the pressure of being a father-figure. In a wife a classically patriarchal man craves a stable companion and proficient mother, in a mistress he craves an exciting she-devil and eerily intuitive apparitionist. A good mistress is hard to find, especially among adult women, who would much rather be your wife – or else you’re out of luck buck. The man with a traditional mistress complex wishes for a mythological being – Unicorn Mistress. A fun sexy younger woman who doesn’t mind being a side-piece to his family life. HA HA HA. Men with mistress complexes settle – they settle for stupid impoverished young women they think they can control with their superior intellects and advanced age and secure finances, for anonymous prostitutes they pay money, for lost broken or experimental-polyamorous-phase girls needing apartments, or for a child they can condition to behave like the Unicorn Mistress in their mind, and the latter Lolita is the most appealing option, the more narcissistic, selfish, and tasteful the man the moreso he will project Unicorn Mistress onto an unformed and vulnerable being, a proximal nymphet, whose personality will bloom around his dreams of fucking her as if she were an adult charming compliant devoted containably dangerous convenience prostitute, and this is what happened to me, Karl – I am Miriam, or what might have become of little Miriam if that had ever crossed your man-brain when you wrote your stupid book Karl. back with a vengeance – the innocent teenage girl used in the inappropriate but ‘merely imaginary’ wank fantasy of a much older and more powerful man – in my case my boyfriend’s dad the Judge. Now I’m darned if I cant act like a charming compliant devoted containably dangerous convenience prostitute to much older men, even though that isn’t my personality or my sexual desires at all! I’m an aggressive, ambitious, opinionated artist who wishes she was married to the boy who took her virginity, the Judge’s son. The point here Karl is that when you ‘make up’ stories about ‘fictional’ people or think about having sex with ‘real’ people even if you don’t do it you’re still affecting the behavior of people who resemble your fictions, their mental emotional and physical reality. In that sense Karl, I am Miriam. Your literary student you want to fondle is so happy to see you again and the airport!

But really Karl. What happens to Miriam? After the scene at the airport? What if, at twenty, or twenty-six, or older, if she tracks Henrik down and finds he's married? What if he becomes a famous married writer! What's he going to say to her Karl? What's she expected to do? get herself a boyfriend her own age? Ye ever think about that Karl?

Wikipedia: The third book also contains a story within a story – a long science fiction-like dream sequence, told in the second person. Here Henrik wakes up to a Kristiansand he vaguely recognises, but is still completely different. Here he is married, and his wife assumes he has amnesia, but he suspects he has landed in a parallel reality. There are no gas or diesel engines, only steam. Historical figures are not always who he remembers them to be: Immanuel Kant is an physician and memoir writer, and Dante is a revolutionary. Henrik gets a job working on a gigantic pillar-like structure in the middle of the ocean, the purpose of which is never made clear.

You know what I call that Pillar Karl? A Phallic Symbol. 

Linda Bostrom - your wife Karl - is a writer, educated in literary thematism, but I’m curious why her husband having written a novel about a man whose personal details resemble his own having a hard-on for a teen girl hasn’t raised any red flags for her about your actual nature, and though I haven’t read Book 2, A Man in Love, somehow, maybe the lack of attention paid the question of pedophilia in Ute Av Verden in light of your success for writing openly about your first failed marriage and the curious ups-and-downs of the second marriage in Min Kamp, “Linda, my dear wife, if you love me and want to be with me for life you ought to know I am susceptible, through my father’s repressed emotions which I contagiously absorbed living in a house with him, to fixating on a much younger woman playing a student in my cloistered world” comes up as vital marriage conversation topic. Again, not something you want to hear on Christmas, but

Dear Linda Bostrom Knausgaard – my name is Andrea Coates, Canadian Writer and amateurpsychoanalyst, aka, compassionate sex-worker. You husband, Karl Ove Knausgaard, the Tome, is at immanent risk of becoming like ‘Mr McEwan’ from my debut novel, Splendid inSanity -  despite the shrewd attention he paid his important job and gentleness towards his loving wife he will go down in Canadian Legend as a rapist of underage prostitutes and terrible father - or – even worse – like Woody Allen. Yes your husband compared to Woody Allen by a fellow woman-writer Linda is the worst thing you could possibly hear on Christmas, but a lonely old man-genius with a much-younger mistress complex whose only contact with young women is his own daughters or his kids’ friends is A PEDOFILE THREAT. I would get him to a witch-doctor.

Better Idea, I think, in the tricky case of the man with the ‘nubile understudy’-fetish, than keeping a lid on the appropriately-middle-aged marriage so long it blows up all over human decency, is for the famous old man with clever little-girl groiny lusts to find himself a talented adult dominatrix who knows how to use self-hypnosis to transform herself into a hologram of an adolescent girl. In my case my psycho-sexual sense of self so completely revolves around this ‘fantasy’ I have of being a teenage goth-girl violently raped by a domineering father-figure I can role-play this happening with pretty much any man who wants to be a domineering father-figure rapist, which is a shocking, or not so shocking at all, number of men in positions of professional fame. boop and snarly Grownup Dragon Tattoo Andrea Coates, she of big knives and gangster connections and literary swagger, transforms into needy cute hypnotized teenage Andrea Coates, she of confused mumblings about her boyfriend G and sad horrible crying and clinging, you can ply for a price like publicly acknowledging my literary talent or apologizing for your hurtful misogyny you stupid man. That way man gets his ‘rape a teenager’ experience without actually raping a teenager, just an adult who was raped as a teenager, or thinks she was, and therefore sexual fixates on old men who want to rape teenagers and consents to pretending to be a teenager for these men.I think this method is healthier than pretending ‘rape a teenage girl’ urges do not exist in imposing narcissistic literary father-figures like Humbert Humbert or Karl Ove or Woody Allen. As we see by what happened to Karl Ove’s daddy, suddenly taking up drinking, or G’s dad the Judge, suddenly got prostate cancer and just as suddenly beat it, when the imposing narcissistic literary father-figure refuses to acknowledge and act on his sexual fantasies about teenagers he self-destructs. Woody Allen’s not dead because he rapes young women. The Judge lived because I let him rape me as an adult. Karl Ove lives for the same reason. I provide a service.

Keeping sexual fetishes inside yourself leaves them as ghosts for your children to contend with. Adequately addressed violent sadomasochistic or pedophilic fetishes evaporate – that is the very reason they exist – they are tangible symbolic representations of abstract emotional realities. Act them out in a responsible manner and feel good about it and no nasty pervert ghost lingers – the emotional blockage is cleared. Take actions that leave you feeling guilty, or someone else feeling angry, or failing to take action, will create a poltergeist that will infect others with its perverted will. Writer Karl Ove is obsessed with why did daddy die so horrible? Pimp G is obsessed with recreating his Judge father’s fantasy prostitutes in women he likes. Take responsibility where your dad couldn’t, Karl, get an appropriate younger mistress, and let your children be free of it. The younger children in a family are more vulnerable to absorbing the fetish ghosts, it seems. It was the Judge’s 3rd kid who was most ‘troubled’, whose unusual behavior towards women is most notable, who lived for the longest with only his parents as company in their big house during his adolescence. Karl Ove had more exposure to his father than his older brother Yngve, and was more emotionally receptive to him by sensitive nature. Karl Ove is the brooding one, stuck on some thorn he cant seem to describe in words, though his talent for describing with words is enormous, he knows it has something to do with his father’s death, something to do with not being satisfied with the nuclear family life, something to do with great art and nymphets and a distant landscape…

I look forward to reading the other 5 Books of Karl Ove’s ‘Struggle’, but they’re written in circularform – the fifth comes back to the father’s funeral and the sixth follows up on the publication of the first. So the central mystery is ‘why did daddy die like that?’ and seeing as I figured it out after one book, and Karl Ove doesn’t have a mistress yet, just more kids, I think in 6 books he doesn’t solve the mystery, he just ponders it a lot while watching his otherwise boring life go by. In all the attention your books have received Karl, has anyone offered a solution to the mystery that was satisfactory? Would they dare? Or are you so understated no one even realized this is a mystery series? Detective Karl Ove on the trail of the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. I dare to propose an answer to the mystery only so far in because I have personal experience with how nasty life gets when human beings fail to talk openly and honestly and listen compassionately about sexual thoughts and feelings. What would have happened to the Judge if he’d had the guts to say, “Wife, I think I need to visit a prostitute.” She would have been crushed. But why? Because it meant she wasn’t good enough? What if the Judge had the wherewithal to say, “Wife, I think I need to visit a prostitute. I have extreme sadomasochistic fetishes. I have fantasies of beating and torturing women who aren’t you. I don’t want to do that to you. I love you. I think I need to find someone who’s job it is to address fetishes like mine so we can carry on in our marriage how it has been.” He probably couldn’t have said that in 1985, so instead he repressed and wound up with a sociopathic pimp for a son, which is okay in the end because I really like that kid. You can see how putting it like that, providing the details of just what the prostitute is needed for, softens the blow, spares the wife’s feelings. It’s not that she’s not good enough, but that, because of their separate origins and life-experiences, sometimes a couple’s fetishes diverge, even if they are otherwise a good match, and raise children well together, for example. In such instances it is appropriate to enlist the help of a knowledgeable dominatrix, of whom there are too few. Easy enough to pay someone to whip you in secret, much harder to find someone to organize the skeletons in your closets, unless – she finds you. I wind up with a lot of customers. So many I have to get to work untangling their naughty sex dreams before they even learn who I am!

I climb under the covers with the King of Norway and his Swedish wife. I point out to prodigy Mark Zuckerberg his infatuation with the older Sheryl Sandberg. I try to save Shane Smith’s marriage only to discover he wants me to ruin it. I cure the Judge’s prostate cancer ( but I also gave it to him ). I provide for Sonny Barger’s continued legacy. I suggest Isreali Philosopher Sam Vaknin and British/Sri-Lankan Rapper M.I.A have sex. What to me is self-evident, or only so hidden a trip to the library will suffice to uncover it, is to others dangerously presumptuous and meddlesome, but I wouldn’t so easily be able to see through superficial super-ego conformity and compensation mechanisms to subconscious frightening idiosyncratic id lusts if I didn’t love people and want the best for them. Haters can’t see through bullshit. People who prioritize propriety can’t see through bullshit. Only the bravely emotionally honest and self-exposing can see through bullshit.

People who think there are or can be areas of life in which sexual fetishism plays no roles are those who are drowning in bullshit. Teachers have tingles about their favorite ( or least favorite ) students. Men who love their stable families crave heart-stomping strumpets. Wives who pour themselves into husbands are betrayed by them. A girl who wants the boy who took her virginity winds up a shameless prostitute. You should know, if you consider yourself a realist novelist. Confess and be forgiven. Pretend you are above it and be destroyed.
Monogamous marriage makes economic sense. One woman to one man and everyone is provided for. The only sure way not to get pregnant is to abstain. But not emotional sense. Some women want multiple men and some men want no women. Sometimes you get raped. The human heart knows no bounds and if you try to encase it or your sexual fantasy life with laws and distractions you will die pathetic and failed like Karl Ove’s dad. He didn’t get a teenage girl to craft in his image, or even an adult mistress to see once a month: he got a horrific despair floated by a singular conviction of integrity: at least I didn’t rape a child. And Karl Ove, what do you get? A big healthy family? A Tolstoyan reputation? An ageless Gothique Lolita to take among the animal furs? Yeah, feel sorry for Karl Ove Knaugaard all right, he’s struggling.

With as Much Sincerity as I can muster here, Karl ( Sarcasm comes so Much Easier ): I love you. 
You're One of the Greats. I think I am too. It would be nice if someone acknowledged my talent before the amorphous bureaucratic 'they' haul me to the bin for harassing the Judge and plotting to sh**t Sonny Barger MAYBE for a Story. But whatever. I am one of the Greats. I win with a Song.

Go have yourself a Cry Karl Ove
Big Eyes is a 2014 American biographical drama film directed by Tim Burton, starring Amy Adams and Christoph Waltz. The film, focusing on American artist Margaret Keane (Adams), whose work was fraudulently claimed in the 1950s and 1960s by her then-husband, Walter Keane (Waltz), tells the story of their heated divorce trial wherein Margaret accused Walter of stealing her paintings. It was released theatrically on December 25.