f-word german

Translating the German f-word and feeling some cumuppance. And so. Another example of living-the-dream in #eurowasteland with Margo Honecker’s Germania-galore protege Merkel and the aristocrats with all the inherited money that afford us park benches. Or maybe not. Ranting onwards.

Hey Kids! Your Future Is Being Predicted Right Now. Get It While You Can. #Fascism Game Play Galore

next to last supper from ubisoft far cry
pic is from Ubisoft; it’s called: “next to last supper”; how appropriate
What do you recall from reading Jules Verne and George Orwell, Mr. Worstwriter?

I’m so glad you asked, dear worst-reader.

I remember from both those writers how my future was being predicted. Indeed. Even though I didn’t read much when I was kid, by the time I got out of the waste-of-time that is #americant suburban-hell highschool, I was reading like a mad man. Verne and Orwell were, to me, similar writers–even though they wrote completely different stuff. Both men were writing about worlds that didn’t actually exist but unlike other forms of fiction that I consumed, their worlds were at least based on something that felt as though it could be real. And so. When I started traveling with jet airplanes, Verne’s world came true. When I started getting my ass kicked by corporatists, aka fascists, Orwell’s world came true.

Hop skip and jump to the now.

As far as I’m concerned there hasn’t been much future-telling from generations after Orwell and Verne. Why is that? My worst-guess is, the future that was told and we’re now living in is also an end-game. What Orwell and Verne didn’t or couldn’t know is that when their world’s came true, there was then nothing left after that. Or was/is there? Enter the magic world of virtual game play. Have a playstation, xbox, gamer-PC? How ’bout a nintendo or a sega? Heck, break out that old iphone or even your old zune. Computerised gaming is here, baby. And it’s doing more than competing with movies, turntables, radio-hour and a good fcuking book. In fact, my guess is, computerised gaming is better than reading. How do I worst-guess that? Easy. Where are the kids–like when I was young–who know-it-all?

And no. Millennials don’t know it all. (If they did then books would be more popular than all their krappy pop music!)

Would you believe dear worst-reader that gaming has finally come full circle? I mean, it’s come full-circle like Verne (with his then sci-fi predictions) and Orwell (with his prediction of stupid people voting and faux newz taking over the airwaves) have come full circle. Although their predictions are a bit early for my taste, what the fcuk do I care? I live for convenience–and my highschool wish of being financially independent came true before my mid-40s. And so. At my age I can gladly lean back on my wooden la-z-boy and laugh my ass off as the morons that play the game, suck up to the game, get fcuked by the game. Why? It’s as though we’ve reached a point where reality has been tuned and manipulated by great literature and by those who never read it. On top of that, it’s also been tuned and manipulated by fcuking cartoons. Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha…

Now get this.

The newest addtion to the Far Cry computer game franchise takes place in my beloved #americant. And not just any place in #americant. As though it was a premonition, the recent WWE asskicking of a reporter by a nutjob republican bully running for Congress…. Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha… Far Cry, the computer game, is set in the same place, with the same local mentality, with the same, the same, the same… #americant. Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. I mean, it’s perfect. Ha. Ha. Ha. Where Orwell’s world could work in Bangkok as well as Moscow, Far Cry’s newest story line can ONLY work in Montana. For that we can thank all those techi a$$holes in the only industry doing anything at any price. Ha. Ha. Ha. Gulp. Sip. Burp.

Short pause.

Not only are we living better through chemicals but consuming to survive seems to be working out pretty well, too. Good luck with your future. And don’t forget, find a way to continue voting conservatives into office because for the last 50 yrs they’ve given you what you’ve got. And now you can even play them in a computer game… Ha. Ha. Ha… It’s certainly better than reading about what predicts your future… Ha. Ha. Ha.

Burp.

Rant on.

-T

Link that motivated this post:

Germany And Why #Trump And His Ilk Hate That

300x169-R1244_FEA_Trump_A_SML

This is just a list I’ve been putting together in my head since reading that #Trump thinks Germany is bad, bad, real bad. I guess, in a way, I’m kinda jealous of Trump–you know, his bullhorn is so much louder than mine. Still, that’s why the tech-gods gave us all the capacity to have cute little blogs. Or? Anywho. Here’s a list of thoughts why Trump and his followers hate Germany. And remamber, dear worstreader, this type of hate isn’t so much a punch-you hate but instead a hate of admiration. Whatever that means.

  • Germany is a politically functional country–that over engineers everything–even government.

Compared to my beloved #americant, the Germans actually do things with government that don’t just benefit one part of society, i.e. the 1%. Now don’t get me wrong. In general, Germany (and Europe) still has a feudalism problem. Luckily, because the aristocrats of that feudalism–made up of both the children and grandchildren that gave us WW2–have been so pacified by what their parents and grandparents actually did, they don’t have much of a voice to manipulate politics–as is the case of the winners of WW2 in #americant and Engaland. (I mean, come on, Dick Chaney, Margerate Thatcher, Dipshit Dubya, #Trump, do all seem to hold a grudge–for winning.) The wealth of aristocrats in Germany is used in part to maintain the structures of the country and, especially, the Mittelstand. In other words, if left up to their own doing, the aristocrats that own Germany would sell it out just like the rich have sold out America since the 70s, culminating in today’s globalisation. How long the Germans can hold out–with austerity n’all–is anyone’s guess. But that’s another issue. Trump and his ilk hate that.

  • Germans love their green aka environment–even though places like Cologne are unGodly ugly and there’s snot everywhere.

I’m always complaining about there being too much green in this country. I read somewhere once that of all European countries, Germany has the most trees per capita. Think about that. If Europe was a house, Germany would be a guest toilet in it–and it still has the most trees of all other countries–per capita. And speaking of guest toilets. Get this. I have never been anywhere in the world where so many people have alergies, the sniffles, soar throats, etc., day-in, day-out–all fcuking year ’round. Trees, grass, …shit in the air NOT from cars–and people are as sick as three legged dogs that eat too much icecream. And I often go to these people–many, many people–with their über coughing and über sneezing, snot running down their allergy faces, and say: why don’t you get rid of some of this fcuking green? Do you have any idear how f’n polluted your air is with all the dust and pollen and spores that all this green sprews out? Of course, as usual, they just look at me dumbfounded. Indeed. German government do get itself some green! Trump and his ilk hate that.

  • Order, timing and efficiency are all lies not worthing revealing and always garner a smile or three but if you book a train early enough to your destination it’s also really, really mega cheap–and they serve real beer on it.

Everytime I fly internationally, I get to FRA using a train. When I visit family in the north, I use a train. When I go to Paris… Why anyone would fly to France from Germany is a mystery to me. Anywho. When I was a kid and first started traveling to Germania, people back home would always mention, in passing, and based on their knowledge of The Old Country–The Huns–that the trains all run on-time. Now. Let’s get something straight. Although the DB (Deutsche Bahn) is pretty good compared to other European and American train systems, it is far from an efficient or on-time. In fact, when using it, I can’t remember the last time a train was on-time or without some major outage–as in the train has to stop and let out all passangers at a trainstation prior to its original destination. I would still rather take a train in Germany than drive a car, though, that’s for sure. Oh. And by-the-buy. The entire train system here is paid for by government. Trump and his ilk hate that.

  • Health Care and my gold teeth.

No. Seriously. I don’t go to the doctor. Don’t go to a dentist either. Or do I? My philosophy is: if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. My German wife’s philosophy is different. That said, I’ve had minor surgery (ten years ago), all of my teeth fillings and caps are in gold, I’ve had very large German fingers check my prostate (twice!), I’ve had my eyes examined, my ears poached, my knees bumped (with one of the rubber hammers) and my tongue checked by a nurse that looked just like Pamela Anderson–at least the part of her that I could see looked like Pam A as she leaned over me and begged that I say “Ah”. And you know what, dear worst-reader? After all of that, I have yet to see a doctor bill. “Whaaaaaa,” you say. Seriously. I have never seen a doctor f’n bill in the over two decades that I’ve been an expat. Now ask me if I laugh at my brethren in #americant as they bitch & maon about healthcare. Ha. Ha. Ha. Suckers. And. Trump and his ilk hate that.

  • Germans are pro business without being anti-social.

This is a bit of complicated issue. So let me address it from the other side. The thing that’s obvious about my beloved #americant today is that it’s lost its ability to be creative in business. Probably since the 1970s, the US has been riding on the industrial laurels of the past. This in part is due to generational issues–as baby-boomers secure their retirements–but it also has to do with a skewed sense of what the American Way is all about. Indeed.  The generational issue, i.e. baby-boomer greed mongering galore, cannot be underestimated here. The simple truth is, while Americans jockey around in their inability to self diagnose and/or think independently–thanks to faux newz–they also find themselves swimming in a cesspool of political lies and untruths–all to their own personal detriment. Hence, to worst-moi, the fact that faux newz is even on the air says everything about where Americans are politically and mentally. But let me come back to this side of things. Germany has yet to idealise their politics like Americans have with faux news. What is said politically in America cannot be said in Germany. And that’s not because it’s not allowed to be said. Put another way, it’s not that the bull$hit of right-wing propaganda can’t be said as much as it can’t be heard because there is no one to listen to it over here. Oh yeah… The German government is very pro-business without being anti-social. Everybody and every business has to pay its share to make things work/function here and they all seem to do it willingly. Trump and his ilk hate that.

  • All bankers are a$$holes but German bankers aren’t a$$holes and suckers.

Alright. Here’s an open can of worms for ya. As I’ve tried to post here and maybe here, my best-worst-guess (as an arm-chair pseudo economist) is that one of the reasons Trump and his ilk are pissed at the Germans is because the Germans saw through the bull$hit of the real-estate bubble that was being promoted by the US Federal Reserve and US Treasury after 9/11, 2001. The Germans, especially Deutsche Bank, literally bet against the bubble and won. (Two other German banks lost.) I mean, even though it all kind of sounds complicated with the bull$hit that comes out of Wall Street, you know, financial engineering, CDOs, sub-prime mortgages, etc., it’s really not. It’s all more akin to being a casino. Within the casino there are different “games” being played. The difference to a real casino, though, is that after years of playing these games, all the participants, being used to one another, resort to other means to get ahead. You know, lying, cheating, manipulating, coercion, etc. Therefore the roulette table has its hidden buttons, the blackjack dealer has his price, the slot machine maintenance staff tighten the levers this way or that way, etc. The only problem is, what to do if a player decides not to play on the terms of The House. In the film The Big Short, the bank that bet against the US real estate market was Deutsche Bank. Oh, I said that already. Trump and his ilk hate that.

  • Education is practically free.

I guess I have to use the word “practically” because there is some cost involved in getting an education in good ole Germania. The difference to my beloved #americant education, though, is that here schooling isn’t treated as a business–as neo-liberal economic idealogy dictates it be treated back home. In other words, you can’t turn student loans into an industry here. Trump and his ilk hate that.

  • Technology can’t be monopolised.

This could be another can of worms–but I’ll go with it. The thing is, compared to my mom’s house on the eastern shore of Maryland (that I miss so much), I have the choice of at least three ISPs for my internet connection where I live in Germany. Not only that, but if I want to have a landline phone, which I don’t, I could chose from various services for that, too. As far as net-neutrality goes, it’s not much of an issue here because, well, media streaming is already offered through a variety of delivery systems. Then there is the issue of free speech, which German only has as long as that speech does not promote hate. Trump and his ilk hate that.

That’s about it for now. Will keep it all in the back of my worst-mind and update as required.

Rant on.

-t

Links that might have something to do with this post:

Speculators Be Hanged?

Speculators at megabanks or investment firms such as Goldman Sachs are not, in a strict sense, capitalists. They do not make money from the means of production. Rather, they ignore or rewrite the law—ostensibly put in place to protect the vulnerable from the powerful—to steal from everyone, including their shareholders. They are parasites. They feed off the carcass of industrial capitalism. They produce nothing. They make nothing. They just manipulate money. Speculation in the 17th century was a crime. Speculators were hanged. -Chris Hedges

Source: Truthdig

Hyperlink in quote from moi.

hurensohn tree 1

I take this snapshot while walking in the park and then ask my better-half why someone would cut down a fledgling tree–where w/out special government permission it’s illegal to cut down trees–and then spray-paint “Hurensohn” (son-of-a-whore) on it. She turned to me as she often does with half a cynical wink in her left eye. It’s her look of “oh my naive little American”–for she is a big German. She says: don’t you know what men in Europe do when their wives cheat on them?

“Oh,” I thought.

Rant on.

-T

Exercise In Translation: Is #Germany Bad Or Evil And What To Do If Someone Wants Both?

Go ‘head, dear worst-reader. Ask me. Ask me if I care how many German cars are sold in my grand and beloved united mistakes. Indeed. I don’t care. All I know is this: I’ve been driving Audis (in Germany, on German Autobahns) for most of the time I’ve been an expat. FYI, I’ve also been driving these vehicles at speeds that would make most of my brethren rednecks back home cringe–especially those who are Nascar fans. Worswriter and a 140mph? No problem when the Autobahn 3 is open between Neuwied and Wiesbaden. I think I topped 150mph once when driving between Bremerhaven and Cuxhaven. Yeah, baby. That’s what company cars should be about. Unfortunately, it’s not.

In fact, because of the various benefits of a relative functioning corporate nation-state collective social market economy–yeah, that’s kinda what the Germans call it here–and because of Germany’s love of government subsidies–that literally keep the German car industry afloat–I get a new Audi every four years. Ask me, then, if I like the A5? Ask me if I liked the previous A4 All-Road? I did not like the A6 with Bose stereo we had ten years ago. Indeed. These cars that are part of the German functioning corporate collective economy blah blah blah are overpriced, over-engineered and over plastic pieces of mega-krapp–which I love-hate to drive. In fact, the whole government subsidised company car leasing bull$hit that goes on here, is really a fcukin joke. But hey! It works for the Germans, eh.

But get this. German car makers have so marginalised this car industry subsidy to their own benefit that even though a company car can feel fancy–because you can get a new one every four years–you can never get one “loaded” because, well, gee, the government doesn’t subsidise the coolness that buying/renting a car should be all about. Indeed. The government only wants to subsidise four wheels, the fuel and the hearts & minds of the aristocratic families that still own everything–and thereby allow the pions that work for them to have the feeling that they are actually achieving something in this life. But so is our modern world, eh worst-reader? First-world problems abound in Germania these days. Which means we must all, somehow, consume a car. Such privilege should leave the pions happy. Happy indeed. Otherwise an aristocrat might get itchy again (in history) and start jockeying numbers and banks and tax offices and right wing propagandists….

Here’s a little pseudo-review of how I’m starting to get wise and am moving away from rolling pieces of metal that guzzle too much stuff that causes too many wars and ain’t worth the effort anymore.

In short. I think all über-expensive cars that people waste so much of their money/lives on are stupid. It’s why most expensive things should no longer have a price tag on them. I mean, come on, we’re well into a time when ownership of stuff just ain’t gonna happen anymore anyway. So. Instead of price tags on krapp there should be stupid meters on all consumables. The stupid meter will tell consumers–based on information stolen from their Facebook profile–how stupid they are for adhereing to the mantra: consume-to-survive. Or maybe not.

Which brings me to this blog post.

The other day when dip$hit #Trump said that the Germans were bad, very bad, for selling so many über-priced cars in #americant, I laughed. I didn’t laugh at the amount of cars #americants buy but instead at how Germans, once they read the headlines and then start looking in their Dudens and/or German > English translation books, will all get the translation wrong. German news is publishing #Trump’s bad as the German’s Böse. Among the great German words that translate multiple ways into English, Böse is one of them. Reason? Böse means not only bad but also evil. Which one it means all depends on how it’s used–or how you want your girlfriend to dress after you watch German porn. You know, context is everything.

So. Did #Trump say Germany is evil or just bad? Gosh, since Trump likes to be peed on, I’m kinda hoping he said/meant both. And then he should finally try some German chicks after he’s done with #3 Malania. German chicks are a blast–and not because of their porn. But then again, they aren’t the happy-marrying type on account they don’t take much $hit from men. But if you need gaskets changed on your John Deere, or you need a place to park your car (see vid link above), or maybe you need a New York cheese cake to dine on before happy-time, they can almost do it all. But before I get too far off subject….

Rant on.

-t

Links that motivated this post:

Never Unknow: There’s Always Someone Watching When You Pee Or Fighting The Collective You Didn’t Know You Joined

cover getting along with the germans

Update: holly-krapp-olly! I’ve since been informed that I seriously broke the law pissing on/near a German water plant the other day. If I would have been caught by a German policeman (instead of one of the policeman-in-a-policeman-in-a-policeman that make up Das Volk) I would be facing a heavy fine and possible jail time. Which means, I guess, an apology is warranted. So. Like. I’m sorry. And I won’t do it again. Otherwise, fuck you. You assholes should be paying me to live in this shithole that is a golden cage of a country. Alone the fact that I had a child here, which means I brought in some fresh blood to a place that is becoming more and more incestuous, and that I’m able to show you jerkwadds what humour is and now you make me feel bad because, at my age, it’s difficult holding my piss? Oh yeah, you’d rather see me piss my pants in public. You guys get a kick out of that shit. Oh fuck it. Fuck this place. Piss on all of you.


This is almost a book review I’ve been meaning to do for years. But it’s still not quite there. Instead, let us, together dear worst-reader, have yet another review of what it’s like to live among the seedy Germanians. (“Seedy” being a term used by Ben Franklin when arguing against making German the official language of the newly independent colonies back in seventeen hundred and… whatever.)

First. Remember at the beginning of the film Gladiator where the Romans are preparing for battle and waiting for the return of their carrier and all that shows up is a headless body on a horse? The scene cuts to a huge barbarian standing on a hill waving a man’s bodiless head. The barbarian throws the head to the ground where it bellows a hallow thump and then yells to his Roman counterparts:

Ihr verfluchte Hunde!

The barbarian is speaking a not-so distant form of German that basically translates thus:

  • You fcuking dogs
  • You dog fcuks
  • Fcuk you dogs
  • No thank you. We Germans are really not interested in being a slave colony of you stuck-up, half-African Romans who all think indigestion is a mating call that requires barfing before copulating. Have a nice day.

I’m not quite sure why but two things have stuck with me since becoming an unwitting expat and–aghast!–part of a collective:

  1. Why couldn’t I have become an expat in California–which kinda makes sense because I’m from the mid-Atlantic coast of the US? No. Seriously. I’ve seen more of the US since moving to Europe/Germania in my mid-20s. During my travels I’ve concluded that there are more similarities between western Europe and the US east coast then there are similarities between the US east coast and the US west coast.
  2. There is no scarier thing in the world than a nation-state of peoples that all think the same, act the same, eat the same, birth the same, fcuk the same, drive the same, walk the same, speak the same, the same, the same, the same… the collective.

No. Seriously. You wanna know the secret to success of the post WW2 Germans that Trump recently called “bad”? (Btw, I’ll avoid getting into the magic of debt cancellation that was the gist of the Marshall Plan.) It’s all about one thing and one thing only.

Everybody is the same.

It’s really that simple. There is no independent thought. There is no tolerance of others. There is no creativity. There is only the same, the same, the same. The thing that keeps the German from exploding is the simple fact that WW2 has pacified them to the point of no return. Also, add to that the shit-kids of Margot Honecker are now running the show. Thank you Angela Merkel. Anywho. That is why, as the rest of the world struggles with Trumpism, authoritarianism, austerity and keeping the rich richer, Germania, barbarians at heart, are still yelling at Roman overlords…

You fucking dogs… Now: how can I serve you more white asparagus with Italian twenty-four month cured ham with a wondrous glass of Graubegründer? Oh. And before we rudely forget. Would you like to fcuk Heidi Klum?

With that in mind, allow me, dear worst-reader, to cut to the chase. Obviously I’ll have to review the book “Getting Along With The Germans” another time. Till then, read it–if you can get it–and heed this pic:

a policeman in every german

There is indeed in EVERY German a fcuking policeman and within every German policeman is another German policeman waiting to German-come-out. And do you want to know how to get all those policeman out from deep within every German? Well, you can start by being a 54 year old man that has to pee a lot when going on long bike rides–and can’t find a place to do it.

Yesterday, while taking a bike tour with my better half (who loves the way I talk about her homeland and her Germans), I had to go #1. (For those not in the know, that’s peeing; ask an anglophobe what #2 is.) My better-half was perturbed and said:

We just got started. Why didn’t you go before we left?

She’s right. But. The obvious problem is: I forgot to go before we left. And. The thing is. At my age and my physical demeanour, when/if I gotta go, I gotta fcuking go!

Since I was familiar with the bike route we were on, I knew of a rather secluded corner where I could whip out the monster and help filter some man juice to the Rhine River. The problem though is that the day before was Ascension Day. Ascension Day is yet another mandated-by-law paid vacation day that always falls on a Thursday. That means that the day after (Ascension Day) is what’s known as a bridge-day. (It’s not known as Friday.) A bridge-day is a day that the collective usually takes a vacation day from the compulsion they call work or career. That means that there are double the amount of Germanians out enjoying–in this case–the great weather. It was indeed a rare beautiful day. There were a lot of fcuking Germans out and about. It was not a good time for me to screw up. But I had to go. I really had to go!

So I find a secluded corner and do my bidness. But before I can get the monster back in my pants, I hear a male voice from a short distance behind me. I can’t remember exactly what he said–yeah, I’m kinda deaf when I’m focused on zippers and flesh and really, really tight, padded bicycling undergarments. When I finally turned around (yes, with my monster tucked away and zipper up) a German (a little bit smaller than the one throwing bodiless heads) was standing there preaching about the vulgarity of what I had just done.

Ok. Now this isn’t the first time I’ve been confronted by the plain-clothes collective police. But this was the first time when the guy took his civil duties a bit too far. He started yelling and preaching and demanding and and and… The German language can sometimes be very scary! Without paying much attention to his words, I simply said:

“You want to lutsch my Schwanz, you vixxer! Mind your own fcuking business.”

He proceeded to explain to me that I was peeing on a fence that guarded the entrance to a part of a water plant… blah, blah, blah, achtung, dumbkopf, fahrvergnügen

Stupefied, I looked around. He was right. But it was a secluded fence. It was off in a corner at the end of a driveway. The fence was totally corroded with algae and other growth as though it hadn’t been used in a long, long time. By standing in the corner, facing the entrance there was no way to see me unless you put some effort into it. Welcome to Germany!

I told him once again that he really should mind his own business but then I pulled back and realised that this type of confrontation can have no outcome. No. Wait. My better half told me that. Of course. And so. That is the main problem of a collective society where nothing gets done beyond the compulsion of what’s already been done and most individuals can’t find their way out of a collective wet paper bag–but at least they can afford to lease, on the taxpayer teat, lots of BMWs, Audis and Krautracers.

But before I get into too many details about what I think of The Collective, for it was quite a vulgar display on my part (thank you very much!), the German put away his collective policeman and we both went about enjoying the sunny day. With that in mind, dear worst-reader, don’t worry about me. I’m already planning in my head where I can find another more quite and secluded place to piss on the Germania water supply.

Rant on.

-t