May 2013 – worstwriter

Defining Boomer

Ah, funny begets funny. Funny does not beget comedy. Or? Nomatter. We are a nation of college frat-boy collective humorists. We are probably made on the biblically forgotten 9th day. The forgotten 8th day was for all political conservatives. And so. Is it funny the/this god-send of a post boomer generation? Indeed. The funny thing is, when making fun, good politics and bad politics are the same. And so (again). This whole politics plus making-fun thing looks as though it’s run might never end. That is, it doesn’t seem to be evolving. But could that be because of the/this new & improved entitlement generation consuming it? Indeed. Colbert and Jon Stewart have done their part when it comes to entertaining the masses. But their comedy also does something else. And here’s the scary part. Colbert is (ac)credited with having invented a word: Truthiness. I can’t help but feel that there is a sad irony about such a word. Does it apply to the conservative right-wing politics that he makes fun of? Or does it apply to his humour? Perhaps that’s the difference between making fun of something and making comedy. I’m probably way off base here, but to me there’s a huge difference between comedy and humour. A child-mind is easily entertained with videos of people falling over themselves. But that same child probably won’t laugh much listening to Lenny Bruce. I guess that’s why after a few shows of either Colbert or Jon Stewart, I yawn and cringe at all the people they make fun of who fall over themselves. Should that subtract from their politics, which is the reason for their generational popularity? But I digress.

Which brings me to the idear of generations. What’s clear in Stephan Colbert’s humour is what he makes-fun of. But then to hear him claim to be part of the generation he makes fun of, well, that kinda confuses me. Again, he invented truthiness. The thing that gets me about the vid below, is that Colbert so casually connects himself to the boomer generation. According to the electronic book of knowledge, Colbert is born in the last year where it’s even possible to be a boomer, 1964. Since I’m just a tick older than he is, that bugs me because I don’t consider myself part of the boomer generation at all. At the least boomers most certainly didn’t let me in their club. Timelines here or there, where the boomer generation begins is probably much clearer than where it ends. Over the years I’ve seen conflicting information regarding what exactly defines a boomer and I don’t intend to split hairs about it (and I should probably not split those same hairs about the difference between humour and comedy). What’s important is that the boomer generation is the greatest club of human greed-mongers, takers and not givers, sex abusers and family destroyers that human history has ever seen. (And I’m still waiting for someone who can make fun of that. Could Bill Hicks be that one?) I consider myself to be in the grey zone between generations. Such a position allows me to see both sides of the coin that is the past and future. On the one side the boomers and the other are those who want to be, and are showing no signs, other than all the wealth their parents and grand parents are hoarding, of being any different. But I reckon now that Colbert is a cultural phenomenon he can damn well claim to be part of anything he wants. Now ain’t that the truthiness. Ha. Ha. He. He.

Oh, IMHO, Colbert’s best performance was his seething speech at the 2006 White House Correspondents dinner. But I digress.

Links:

Rant on.

-tgs-

Schadenfreude 2

Part 2/2

The more time you spend as an expat without any direction the more destabilizing effect it will have. The reason? Well. Things tend to not remain hunky-dory – in the cerebral cortex. Add to that the joys of life, i.e. divorce, bleeding bank accounts, being stuck in a place that has almost perfected the state of perpetual unemployment, no future, etc., and all is not well. The debacle of starting over in another land will ultimately return you to the misery and degradation you were trying to leave. Therefore. You must consider carefully where it is you go. Your status at home where life was supposed to be about being poor and without means will not change if you go to a place that is the same-difference. If you’re asking why I did it, the answer is simple. The complexities of this sort of social engineering go deep, deep, deep under the mantle of what one sees – especially as the greener pastures of hope overrule rational thought. Another thing that makes the mind condone something that is ultimately detrimental is the sheer joy of potentially living in a place where you don’t have to be worried about a neighbor running amok and killing you and twelve others while shooting like a happy banshee his extended magazine until he decides to shoot himself but probably misses because he’s as dumb as a doornail. So without throwing around too much praise. At least the commoners of eurowasteland have gun laws. So. Everybody get on a boat. Time to sail back to the old country. Or maybe not. Anywho. The trauma of expatriating to a place just because there’s less chance of being killed by amok-runners ain’t a good idear. Where it has no guns is has all the rest, e.g. Schadenfreude and reality television.

If you ever have to live among eurowastelanders there are three things you’ll need to know. And don’t forget, as babylonian as eurowasteland is, a third grade level mental capacity is all you need to understand everything. Knowing the various waste-state languages will only aide in your demise – so don’t bother. If you feel somehow compelled because of the atrocities of your upbringing – thanks Mom! – to actually learn some babel, don’t flaunt it. It will only lead to your understanding the insults and human degradation that old country commoners put on you. But. Let me say at least this one positive thing. The one advantage of expatriating to eurowasteland, other than the gun thing, is that you don’t have to master the babel. In the case of z’germanin, barking is more than enough. The frenchies? Just whisper your barks and perhaps add something melodic to it, like a whining puppy. The spaghetties? Just pray. Etc., etc. If you want or need to eat and maybe have a roof over your head learning at least some of the babel may be of use. If that sounds like a contradiction, it isn’t. But I’m getting off track.

So let me address three things that you need to know and understand in order to know everything about eurowasteland, how it functions and what it’s all about to expatriate here. The three things are:

• Schadenfreude (joy of witnessing bad things happen to others)

• Neid (envy, grudge, jealousy; this is where schadenfreude comes from)

• Speed traps

In part 1 I failed to address the frivolity of consuming too much television for the sake of avoidance, protection, learning opera or some other undertaking that provides escape from humanity. The point to it all is trying to face up to the reality that you are, not by choice, a participant in the madness of a match to insanity that really shouldn’t be called society but instead everybody vs. everybody-else. There is something else that you must keep in mind. There are limits to expressing the importance of trying to maintain some kind of hold on humanity and not let the reality televisions and the consumerism it now represents turn you fully into another automaton zombie with or without a career.

I’ve learned after so many years of expatriating that you shouldn’t give in to the whims of your host country and blatantly adopt its nationality and persona. (This is one of the reasons, btw, I love turks. They practically occupy a country and do not emulate their hosts. Go turks!) Even though it’s frivolous to mention now, especially since it’s been twenty years, it was not my intention to be an expatriate. And unlike my contemporaries I can’t blame my situation on want of a mortgage or a family or even a stable life. But the one thing I do regret more than all the other regrets is that I settled for this. Not only did I go in the wrong geographical and philosophical direction but since I was from the east coast of the united mistakes I should have gone west, more west, westerly – till I dropped off this flat place. Oh well. There is no sense in mooring over what they say about spilt scotch & milk.

So I’m here. I’m an expat. There is misery. Oh. I am an immigrant, too. Nomatter. For the sake of posterity, I’m leaving some of my experience behind. Somehow. Chaotically. Don’t worry. You can thank me later. Moving on.

Here’s something you should keep in mind when considering expatriating. No matter what they say or do, there is no such thing as a social market economy. There is only communism – or there is no communism. Technically the united mistakes of american’t – the bigger brother to eurowasteland – the place I ran from – is a communist state. But it has taken on the rather nebulous and sexy designation of a centralized capitalist economy. These two designations are the byproduct of mother-son, father-daughter or brother-sister relations that overstep all boundaries. Luckily it doesn’t matter what you call it. It’s all just fancy code for communism. So. The difference between social eurowasteland and the centralized united mistakes is that the welfare provided by eurowasteland is for the purpose of keeping the hordes that actually gave the world communism – and Mayday parades – at bay. The united mistakes’ uses its to prop-up the useless playboy rich who are by now in their second or third useless (de)generation.

Got that.

Oh. And. Don’t worry. You can feel relieved. I’m not a communist. If you take one thing from this babel it should be: I am probably the only true capitalist that you will ever experience. So take heed. Mark it in your calendar. Send flowers. Occupy me. For. I live in communism but am a class-fighter in search of true capitalism. What a sad state of affairs, eh. So I say. Down with the useless and inbred classes. Rise up and resist the call of Schadenfreude. Which brings me back to my semi-thesis.

Schadenfreude and Neid. How to deal with them? They are the two things you will not be able to avoid. Of the limited amount of language that you need to learn those two words should probably be at the top. Have I made that clear in all this running-on? Another good word isFernweh but I’m probably confusing you by mentioning it here (it is one of my favorite words, though). You can reduce the physical and mental effect Schadenfreude and Neid have on you if you are careful. One way to do it is to give-in and be entertained. For that I refer you onward. The other way to do it is to drive. That’s right. Remember cars and television from? Full circle, with a few twists? And it all brings me to speed traps–the grand way to fill the coffers of the State. Nuff said there, eh.

In closing, and for those interested, below is what a German speeding ticket looks like. The good thing about getting such a ticket is that a policeman will never give you one. Nor will you, unless you drive to extremes – which can only be done if you can afford the horse-power – ever face a judge when you get one. All you do is drive, deal with a country that drives with the brake pedal and also that cultural phenomenon that is a cesspool of Schadenfreude and Neid. Oh, and don’t forget to smile for the picture is inevitable. The only thing that’s left is to wait a little while longer till the postman brings you this (see below). All is well. Good luck.

Rant on.

-tgs-

Save Fourth Estate

Ok, dear worst-reader, scandals can also be boring. I also mentioned that there is a “barrage” of scandals looming around Obama’s presidency right now. But I only talked about one of those scandals. This morning I realised that perhaps my use of the word “barrage” doesn’t quite fit. As worst-writer, I often rush to judge and hence pick a few too many, a few too few, and more often than not, not the right words at all. Nomatter. There is one other scandal worth worst-mentioning before I leave Obama to deal with this krapp by himself.

Reviewing the newz this morning reminded me of how truly brilliant Mr. Schwartz was and, in my book, this guy has to be a legend by now. Unfortunately Mr. Schwartz died by hanging himself in his apartment. He did that in order to avoid the shameful over-reach of government careerists that are incapable of seeing how their idears of justice and righteousness have become so skewed. The simple fact of the matter is that government careerists are no different than corporate careerists. These people are the greed-mongers and hoarders and those that have ever so gently but systematically and increasingly marginalised life for the rest of us. In order to justify even having jobs, these people must go about their days looking like they are being productive–even though they can’t be productive due to the fact that American’t has chosen to replace the concept of productivity with compulsion and behaviourism. Do as you’re told. Follow the rules without thinking for yourself. Fit in. Ride laurels. Etc., etc. But I digress.

The other scandal from the Obama presidency right now is the one involving the Associated Press and the DOJ (the same group that over-reached with Aaron Schwartz). The DOJ illegally wiretapped and gathered information about AP reporters in order to find out who leaked information to the press (see vid below). Of course, scandal here or there, none of this krapp matters because there is still a speck of hope for the rest of us. That speck of hope is in the form of code. And it is Mr. Schwartz’s code. As bad as the story is about the DOJ illegally gaining access to AP reporters, IMHO, it pales to the simple greatness of Schwartz’s last code, which is being implemented by The New Yorker in order to protect news sources. Way to go Mr. Schwartz. I’m not sure how much this is going to help the rest of us, the marginalised, but I’m glad you were able to leave this code.

And now, (sarcasm on) let’s all worst-cheer the demise of the Fourth Estate.

Links:

Rant on.

-tgs-

Google Skynet

Watched part of 2013 Google I/O yesterday. Wow. That was weird. Is it me or does Larry Page look a little like an ageing Terminator from Skynet that didn’t pass quality control? He certainly has a voice of a Terminator (caused by vocal chord paralysis). I was wondering if, at the end of his keynote yesterday, he’d say “I’ll be back”. Anywho. Some believe that no other tech company in the world could be the real version of Skynet from the movie Terminator. Think again.

Other than his strange stage persona, including a really weird form of eye hopping that culminated in looking up to the ceiling to get answers to questions, Larry Page might just be the quintessential computer scientist. Either that or he’s completely beaten-out Zuckerberg at being the new Steve Jobs. Wait. Scratch that. At the least, Page seems to be more of a tech geek than Bill Gates and Steve Jobs combined, forget Zuckerberg. But will that also be his downfall? The expectations the industry has for this guy must be overwhelming. Are rivals shivering in their boots? I think not. But there was a moment during a question and answer session where Page talks about the difficulty working with Oracle. The way he spoke about Oracle was both condescending and demeaning. Was Larry Ellison watching? Anywho. I have to admit, I’ve been following Google recently and this company is the only company doing ANYTHING in the tech world today. Seriously. Laugh–as so many do–at Google Glass or Google Car, but there is no denying, compared to all the others in the tech industry, including Apple and Microsoft, this company is not standing still. Reason enough to be afraid, very afraid when the Google machine becomes aware and sends its first Terminator back in time to kill the mother of the savior.

Rant on.

-tgs-

Infantilism vs Economic Conscription

Will never forget the visit I made to a US military recruiting centre. Johnny Gun-Ho was my recruiting officer. He was a Marine that had no problem explaining to me the inferiorities of the Army and the Air Force. He even took the time to explain the inferiorities of the Navy, which belong to the Marines, he added. For Johnny, the only thing that was important was that the Marines were the ones to go in before anybody else. Anywho. I went to Johnny at the behest of my government and my high school, the latter having taken special care to remind those who “qualified” (I was already 18 as a senior) to perform my patriotic duty. Keep in mind, a few years prior, I reckon in an effort to reassure Das Volk that Vietnam was indeed over, the US government changed the laws regarding military conscription. But then again, the United Mistakes didn’t really get rid of the draft, now did we? Indeed. What the US did was simply change the draft from being compulsory to being an ultimatum. In other words, millions of men who would forever be trapped in the overwhelming culture of greed that their parents (baby boomers) enabled by electing consume-to-survive to replace the now failing American dream, faced that ultimatum. Either you worked your life for mediocrity and low wages or you went to college in order to become a salesman, a pawn of a dipshit corporatist boss or you subjected yourself to the reality of economic conscription, joining the greatest military on Earth.

Economic turmoil was not the only result of squeezing American’ts in order to grow and enhance empire. There was something else going on as well. The country was in a self perpetuating state of infantilism. All one had to do was go to any university campus to witness this infantilism first hand. Along with that, once Reagan got his fangs in the US’s neck, the leech of our future was unleashed to feed on the host forevermore. A country of young adults that would never grow beyond their parents house or the dorm room paid for by their parents. And, of course, if you couldn’t afford the luxury-excess of learning how to be greedy, taught systematically by American’t for profit university system, there was only one other choice. Johnny Gun-Ho meet Buck Down On His Luck Rogers. Oh, and btw, Johnny can also recruit Betsy Down On Her Luck Rogers, too! That’s right. All’s fair in luv, war and perverted family values corrupted by silly idears like feminism and equal rights.

Indeed. America is no longer a melting pot of culture and creed and idears and ingenuity and merit and achievement. It’s now a cesspool of economically strapped morons that can’t figure out how to get their asses out of the wet, soggy, rotting paper bag they’ve gotten themselves into. So why should anyone question our empire building and a military fighting for profits for the rich and soldiers never again fighting for those who can’t fight for themselves and at the same time raping our sisters stuck in the same sinking boat? According to reports (see links below) there have been 26,000 (2012) cases of sexual abuse in the greatest military on earth. And that’s up from 19,000 (2010). Yeah, mix never being able to grow up with empire building, baby. And stop looking for blame within the obvious.

Links:

Rant on.

-tgs-

Bottom Slippery Slope

In the movie “In The Line of Fire” the bad guy (John Malkovich) makes what looks like a double barrel .38 caliber hand gun out of plastic. (Sarcasm on.) How original will new fangled 3D gun makers get? Oh, and btw, can’t they call it something other than 3D gun printing? Sounds wussy.

Is it time, dear worst-reader, to try and set some things straight? Articles on 3D gun printing are startin’ to get to me. What’s the big deal here? Seriously. Let the kids have fun in their sandboxes of violence luving galore. Who cares. But then again…

Here’s your worst-thought for the day: Guns and marriage are the same thing. What do you think about that? Do I need to back that up with some pseudo imperial evidence? Ok. You asked for it. Marriage is an institution and has been around for a long time. Ditto for guns. Marriage is the joining of two things sanctioned by religion and government. Ditto for guns. Guns give the beholder a feeling of power and control over someone else. Ditto for Marriage. Guns are regulated and controlled yet that doesn’t seem to stop their proliferation. Ditto for… Well, you get the picture. And I should probably stop there before I get into the lustful and biological aspect of these two identical things. But here’s another thing about all the gun craziness in American’t today. Since American’t failed miserably to find the right course of action not only after 9/11 but after also “winning” the cold war, that is, since American’t has proven that it can only chose the easy wrong path as opposed to the difficult right path, when it comes to governance, when will people start recognising that they have long since reach the bottom of a slippery slope? Meaning, legislation this or that, it’s probably way too late to legislate guns. At least legislate them enough to stop the carnage that is American’t daily life. American’ts reaction to its own making will forever be the same. Hard looking in a mirror, eh. But here’s a small tip. Instead of staying the same and grieving over (y)our mirrored image, why not try moving to another slope and perhaps one that’s not so slippery. Just sayin’.

Oh. One more thing. These new fangled 3D printers are cool. But making lego-like guns ain’t nothing new. I had a uncle once that moulded a gun barrel out of plastic in the 1970s. Yeah, it was almost just like what Malkovich did in the movie In The Line of Fire. My uncle’s version was a double barrel but a .22 caliber, the movie version looks like .38 caliber, and you literally held the barrel in one hand and jammed the firing pin with the other. Not as sophisticated as hollywood prop makers. Luckily he never even tried firing it (I don’t think). But he did die in Canada (after running away from American’t). Whatever. Rest in peace, Uncle.

Links:

Rant on.

-tgs-

Tricky Hole

Early morning. Sun coming up. Groggy. I quit drinking coffee and the black tea takes longer to get me going. Quick reddit read woke me, though. Luv Sam Shepard and wish I was in Toronto. Here thoughts churned:

Not afraid to admit it: Spent most of my adult life dreaming. Big mistake there. But then again, the price (I paid) of freedom and independence is a price worth paying. No matter how poor it makes me. Would do it all again. For there is no greater sacrifice than being true to yourself. If only more people could do that. There would be less “success” in this misconstrued world but there would also be less of the nothingness we have to live with now. Wait. Reverse and twist that. And enough about me.

The problem with dreaming is that you are basically stuck in a box that has one hole in it. It is thru that hole that you consume your dreams. Not unlike a theatre, the hole being where/how the dream is viewed, dreaming, and especially living for a dream, can be very tricky. In fact, the trick is to not let that hole drive you mad. Well. I found a way to control the madness. It was in the form of documenting. Now this is kind of hard to explain, dear worst-reader, but let’s give it a go. I did not document the dreams, per say. What I did to curb/control the madness of youth, the paradox of freedom and being forced to make a living, was a complete waste of time, but I always grabbed something to write with–either pen and paper or a typewriter. And off to the races to nowhere I went.

Fast forward 15 wasted or so years. Looking back is ok. I mean, I’m ok with all that I wasted for a dream. Because when I think about the wondrous dreams of someone else, someone who was and still is able to master that hole… I mean his dreams, I am ok. (But I’m back on me again ain’t I? Sorry.) Sam Shepard saved my life when I was about 28 years old. I used to buy his plays to read even if it meant I couldn’t fill up my shit car with gas. I reckon it’s kinda sad I don’t read them anymore. But like I said. That hole beats you down.

I am forever indebted to this man’s work.

Links:

Rant on.

-tgs-