There’s too much green in Germany. But I think I’ve worst-said that before. Ranting onward, ho!
There’s too much green in Germany. But I think I’ve worst-said that before. Ranting onward, ho!
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.
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 worlds 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$$holes in the only industry doing anything at any price. Ha. Ha. Ha. Gulp. Sip. Burp.
Not only are we living better through chemicals but consuming to survive seems to be working out pretty well, too. Good luck with your future. And don’t forget, find a way to continue voting conservatives into office because for the last 50 yrs they’ve given you what you’ve got. And now you can even play them in a computer game… Ha. Ha. Ha… It’s certainly better than reading about what predicts your future… Ha. Ha. Ha.
Link that motivated this post:
This is just a list (bullets followed by minor worst-explanations) I’ve been putting together in my head since reading that #Trump thinks Germany is bad, bad, real bad. I guess, in a way, I’m kinda jealous of Trump–you know, his bullhorn is so much louder than mine. Still, that’s why the tech-gods gave us all the capacity to have cute little blogs. Or? Anywho. Below is a list of thoughts (bullets) why Trump and his followers hate Germany. And remember, dear worstreader, this type of hate isn’t so much a fcuk-you-hate but instead you mean nothing hate w/out your autobahns and cars… Hate. In other worst-words, keep in mind, when reading this (and other worstwriting), especially when it comes to comparing my beloved #americant with my golden cage, Germania, I will never be a German, don’t want to be one and will gladly pass on without being one of them dipshits that immigrated here (by mistake and got stuck) and took it up the a$$. Or didn’t you know that Germany is a club, a collective club and if you’re not born into it you’re not in it. (Thank God!) Whatever that means. Oh. I’m off subject again.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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$hit of right-wing propaganda can’t be said as much as it can’t be heard because there is no one to listen to it over here. Oh yeah… The German government is very pro-business without being anti-social. Everybody and every business has to pay its share to make things work/function here and they all seem to do it willingly. Trump and his ilk hate that.
Alright. Here’s an open can of worms for ya. As I’ve tried to post here and maybe here, my best-worst-guess (as an arm-chair pseudo economist) is that one of the reasons Trump and his ilk are pissed at the Germans is because the Germans saw through the bull$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.
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.
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.
Links that might have something to do with this post:
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
Hyperlink in quote from moi.
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.
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….
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….
Links that motivated this post:
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:
I’m not quite sure why but two things have stuck with me since becoming an unwitting expat and–aghast!–part of a 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:
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.
Update: Always remember, dear worst-reader, when all else fails in your quest to fail-upwards, violence always wins. And so. Let’s give those deplorables a hand. They win. Again. Again. Again. (Thank you Bill & Hillary Clinton!)
Hi-Larry-Us, dear worst-reader. The first thought that came into my worst-mind upon hearing the news that another batsh*t republican utilised his/the meathead as part of communicating idears–or in this case his will upon others–was whether or not Hillary was there to witness it. I mean, this is literally what she meant when she called all those republican nutbags (including coward libertarians) “deplorables”. Or was she talking about those republicans that can’t formulate a sentence, drag their knuckles or listen/believe too much faux newz?
At this point, I suppose, the question of formulating a sentence or physically forcing your political will on someone else is mute. But do we (liberals) feel bad for the Guardian reporter that got WWE slammed last night in Montana? I mean, think about that. A reporter that works for a thoughtful news organisation gets his ass handed to him because he doesn’t realise he’s facing the living manifestation of…
My way or the highway!
Btw. Where were all these gutsy reporters when the ghost of Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Reagan irked their way into the tip of Trump’s penis giving him the itch Melania can’t scratch? That’s right, dear worst-reader. There is no telling where this level of fascist behaviour is gonna go or where it can hide before being revealed–en masse. The only thing that matters is it’s here and you’re part of it.
Good luck suckers.
Link that motivated this post:
Actually thought about reading the linked article twice but ended up only reading it in part the first time. That is, I started reading it and then realised–and this coming from worstwriter–that the author was practicing his/her typing more than actually writing something. Or maybe not. What a crock of poo-poo the recent ransomware scandals are. Reason? I don’t know, ask f’n Microsoft. But wait. We’re (as in the royal “we”) aren’t allowed to blame Microsoft. Reason? Microsoft had warned users for years to get off of WinXP. Which means, it’s the users fault if they didn’t heed the advice. I guess it’s the users fault, too, if the user can’t f’n afford to pay the real ransom–that of Microsoft making software that, for all practical purposes, dictates when and how they are paid and by whom. Or? Ok. Whatever. I guess It’s easy enough to put the blame on ransomware of this kind on the users. Again. They were warned. But still… Microsoft sucks and so does most technology these days. Reason? That’s how greed-mongering works. Or maybe not.
The article that motivated this post, see below, was sent me by an old friend with the question: “you follow any of this shit?” Here my response.
Thanks for the article. I missed that one.
As far as the recent “wcry” (ransomware) exploit, the article does not once mention that it only worked on WinXP legacy systems. The rest of the explaining that the author does is interesting but doesn’t apply to the real world, i.e. Unix, Linux or Mac users. This recent ransomware exploit is all about legacy systems and whether or not companies are willing to pay the exuberant costs of upgrades—that is not only about upgrading the OS but upgrading all the other software components that, especially for older systems, are rarely compatible. There is a case where a Win7 system was infected but that was only after they tried to fix and/or upgrade the already infected WinXP system. These ransomware exploits, although serious, are really kinda of a sinister joke on Microsoft. I wonder what all these hackers that come up with this shit would be doing if there were jobs available for them—i.e. jobs that paid decent wages and provided a living standard?
Personally, I blame Microsoft for this problem. Even though they warned WinXP users for years that they would no longer support the system with security updates, they went ahead and stopped supporting it anyway. Microsoft knew that there are millions of systems out there still running XP. Hell, I’m sure you could go to some fancy restaurant in Manila and see XP on its cash register system. Why companies and organisations never updated to newer version of Windows is not just about upgrade costs, though—which are outrageous from Microsoft. Like I said, upgrade your OS and you also have to upgrade your other components.
Imagine running a WinXP accounting system on 10,000 terminals (retail, bank teller, airport terminal, etc.) that is dependent on a Oracle DB backend. Holly shit! The cost of an upgrade to another version of Windows OS is mind boggling. And you have to pay to upgrade Oracle, too. This is and has always been STUPID.
But listen to all the college grads out there totting old conservative rhetoric all their lives. A logical government mandate that controls the out-of-control is/was the only solution. Oh wait. Government regulation is a sin.
WHAT A FUCKING EASY THING TO EXPLOIT!
After Bill Gates, Microsoft has been run my sales people and NOT by engineers. This is blatant in how the company has tried to keep up with modernising its OS. I gave up on Windows after Win7. Although the current CEO of Microsoft is an engineer, he’s focused right now on hardware not on Windows.
I’m laughing my ass off.
…and please take all worst writing with a grain of salt. It’s just thoughts or three and little extra time to practice typing.
Link that motivated this post:
No. Seriously. I had this wild pre-dawn dream. I was in PHL with my wife. We were working together on an American TV show that had a deadline. I had to take a Cessna plane to MD in order to solve a problem in the TV show’s script. On the trip back to PHL the Cessna got caught in some kind of whirlwind and we had to make an emergency landing on a road on the outskirts of the city. Before I started running back to the office with the solution from MD, I told the pilot of the Cessna to figure out what was the cause of our having to make a premature landing. I was vehement about knowing why, with so much technology–and the ability to fly–I still had to run back to the office to make a deadline. I then I complained to the pilot about the “pool of sweat” I’d be in when I arrived and how it wouldn’t match my suit. Back in the office, after having trouble finding my way through a maze of stairways in the building, I solve the TV show’s problem but have lost track of my better-half. Then, suddenly, the pilot of the Cessna enters and shows me a picture he took with his phone. It’s a picture of a dead Eurasian Magpie in the middle of the road. The pilot proceeds to explain that the small bird was the cause of our Cessna landing early.
Since I’m on a roll with translating today, here’s one more. Saw this truck this morning while walking Beckett, the Killer Pug, and couldn’t help but think of reality. So I snapped this pic. Indeed. Berufswunsch: Eiswagenfahrer. Translation: globalisation means that kids don’t need school but instead a driver’s license and maybe a few phonebooks to sit on. Then they can drive these trucks around and deliver ice cream at the cheapest wages ever. The ice cream company will be very profitable since the kid truck driver will have to be home so his mom can feed him and, of course, that’s where he’ll sleep, too. Indeed. If only the future could be now for corporations. Or is it already?
What is the first casualty of war, dear worst-reader? That’s right. The truth. Ever wonder how all those bankers, especially the pions that do all the work for banks and Wall Street, how they think about the lies they are telling? Obviously they justify what they do with the knowledge that they are, indeed, at war. Ever see traders trade on the floor of a stock exchange? Ever have trouble paying your mortgage? Ever wonder why you’re kids will have even less than you? It’s kinda like war. Am I wrong?
In order to get one of those jobs on either Wall Street or whatever surrogate Wall Street city around the world, you have to have the credential of an edumacation. If that’s the case, what are all those pions thinking based on that expensive edumacation as they tell lies, make lies, lying, lying, lying? The answer? Nothing. They are either living the WAR dream or they are out to coffee. The only thing their edumacation taught them was to NOT think (for themselves) and then behave to the point of having a compulsive disorder. It’s called a career. A career at war for peace?
Orwell anyone? Nomatter.
There is one thing that gets under my gander when thinking about the mess I have to live in that is the byproduct of a financialized (speculative) world. At the end of 2007, as banks were on the verge of world-wide collapse and the US government decided to intervene in their demise and save them by further looting the US treasury (not unlike it had already been looted to make war mongers even richer by fighting empire protecting oil wars), what were these banks doing that got them into such trouble? The answer: debt. But I don’t want to get into that here. It’s a big can of worms to open, this thing called debt. What I want to get into is one of the minor details of the fail-upward world that is present day #americant, #eurowasteland, etc.
When the US government let Lehmann Brothers fail, it did so because, of all the banks that were complicit in the mess, Lehmann was the one with the most lies to be revealed. Those lies had to be protected at all costs. At least that’s my best guess as to why the US government bailed out Goldman Sachs instead. (Other than the fact that Lehmann didn’t have as many cronies working in revolving-door government.) But what are the lies that Lehmann Brothers told? My worst-guess is, they lied about everything. No. Seriously. EVERYTHING. Where Goldman & Co (and all other banks that were bailed out) lied about (let’s say) half of their business, Lehmann lied about everything. In fact, their business was the lie. If Lehmann would have failed under out-of-control circumstances, i.e. the economy would have crashed after dipshit Dubya left office and the funny man with the big ears took over, then the lies that made up so much of bank’s businesses would eventually have to be revealed. Indeed. The government bail out of fail-upward banks was literally a culling of the herd–to protect the rest–and to make sure there is no truth.
Which brings me to Wells Fargo. I follow this bank once-a-once by reading through my news feeds. I do so because this is the most interesting lie-bank that’s out there right now. The other week headlines appeared about WF but this time it wasn’t about just a few million fake accounts, which is the scandal they’ve been involved in for years. This time it was about how the first lie wasn’t enough. That is the lie wasn’t big enough. They needed a way to increase the lie. Only in #americant, eh baby.
But before I’m off topic.
The original number of fraudulent bank accounts at WF was X. Or was it? Actually the real number is Y. Y is at least double that of X. And now let me bring this worst-post back to Lehmann Brothers and the great recession/crash of 2007. To me, dear worst-reader, WF is not unlike LB (Lehmann Brothers). The difference is, the government can’t make WF collapse overnight and then just go away (which is exactly what it did with LB). The reason WF can’t collapse overnight is because, well, it’s actually a retail bank and there are a lot of people that have bank accounts with them and there are laws that protect those account holders. Which was not the case for the suckers at LB. Oh wait. Another reason WF can’t just be made to disappear. One of its largest stock holders is Warren Buffet.
As it turns out, the initial number of bank accounts that Wells Fargo lied about–that they created out of the blue in order to fraudulently increase their fees–has to be at least doubled. This is the same truth of, say, all banks on Wall Street–that the powers-that-be don’t want people to see. All of these banks who provide the lie of consumption and the reality of austerity, globalisation, etc., via credit and debt, especially those suckers in my beloved #americant, exist on a foundation that is a house of cards.
But I guess, since you probably have a college degree, you already knew that.
Now go buy something.
Links that motivated this post:
There are moments, dear worst-reader, where I love the German language. There are also moments when I don’t love it. But that’s not what this worst-post is about. Even though I’ve given up studying the language–because I reached a point many years ago where I not only would dream in it but I achieved such advanced forsight in it that I could read German facial expressions, German innuendo, German conspiracy-theory, etc., etc. German had become more than a second language to me. And that scared the living beejeezees out of me.
The thing is/was, as an avid, willing and unabashed Ausländer (foreigner) that reached a high level of language understanding (even though I still can’t write in it), I came to realize that I was NEVER, NEVER, NEVER-ever gonna be… A GERMAN.
There are times/moments, for shits & giggles, I open my first edition, original paperback of Das Capital and give it another go. (That’s right. Wanna know what it is to be German? Read Marx.) It doesn’t take long before I’m once again frustrated–and not only at Capitalism and the families that own all German businesses–but at the fact that I would never, never, never-ever be… one of them. Nomatter what I read, nomatter where the language takes me, nomatter how many of its women I have, all I hear when Marx or a German news broadcaster or a German actor says anything, is this:
Deutschland … Den … Deutschen … Ausländer … Raus!
Germany is for Germans and foreigners should leave.
With that in mind, it’s no wonder that I could barely save myself (from more shits & giggles) as Margot Honecker’s step-daugther, Angie Merkel, started letting refugees into Germany as though there’s no tomorrow. And don’t get me wrong, dear worst-reader. It’s not that I’m against helping others or helping those in need. War refugees, especially from wars-for-oil that the West has been fighting and profiting from since 9/11, do deserve our help. But what are these people supposed to do that come into Germany under such pretence? Wait. Do you see that can of worms I just opened, dear worst-reader?
Not unlike the grandparents of North Africans that jumped the Colony-train and made their way to France, 21st century war-for-oil refugees will never integrate into German (European!) society. And before things get too out of hand with all this worst-writing, that lack of integration has nothing to do with religion. In white northern Europe (and white wannabe rest of Europe), dark skinned people are out of luck and out of power. That’s just the way it is. If I’ve learned anything since living the past quarter century in #eurowasteland, it’s how tribalism and racism can turn the collective into a fucking madhouse where the cheese and cured ham and white spargel in spring-time taste unbelievably delicious. Whooop-di-fucking-doo!
But I’m off subject. Again.
I wanted to worst-write today about the German language and not how the Germans so naively circumvent their world power by seperating their greed functioning economy from their greedier dysfunctioning a-social politics/society. Part of this discrepency lies within the German language. Ever heard the story that during America’s founding the founding fathers debated what the country’s standard language should be? Well, indeed, German was at the top of the list. But do you know why they didn’t/couldn’t pick German as America’s language? I think it was Ben Franklin that summed it up best.
“Those Germans are seedy and their language makes them so.”
-worst-writer paraphrse of Ben Franklin
It’s no coincidence that Germans aren’t funny, btw. Their language just doesn’t allow humour–at least not without great effort on the part of any drunken audience. German, unless you understand the context, can be very vague and imprecise–unless, of course, it’s used to build things, to govern things, to write Das Capital and thereby invent authoritarian communism. Oh yeah, and there’s Germans and their elbow-attached beer halls! But let’s not get too lingui-sticky here. (Linquistics and sticky? No? Move on.)
Anywho. Let’s cut to the chase. Below are two screenshots from online news sources that I frequent. Here one can clearly see the confusion there is for those struggling to grasp the German language.
Still, although not funny, German can be fun. One of my favorite German words is Schwer. In English it means both difficult and heavy. Although that’s not a very fun German word, try this one: “Schlampe”. Now that’s a fun German word–especially after you’ve had so many German women, been married to them numerous times, you mother is one and, well, let’s face it, you’re a bit of masochist.
The word Schlampe means many things in English. Here’s a short list:
Indeed. One word can mean many things–depending on the context inwhich it is used. And so. With so many ways to translate something, I really, really hate it when the German language gets abused to the point where those NOT in the know mistranslate it and thereby spread misinformation–potentially hurting not only the language but human communcation.
The one word that Schlampe does NOT translate to is: Bitch.
Again. For posterity’s sake.
A Schlampe is not a Bitch.
Even in German… A Bitch is a Bitch. Woof. Woof.
Or something like that.
Photographed on a street somewhere in India. I have no idear what it is. Could it be one of them seed pods from Body Snatchers? Or perhaps it’s a leather case that houses the ersatz medication of an attempt to eugenically–or do I mean sexually–enhance an Ogre.
Update: see below.
Granted. I don’t watch faux newz. Can’t stomach the stuff. For conservative “media” I follow a few conservative pundit twitter accounts, have a look at Breitbart once-a-once and CNN, and then follow liberal blogs that make a point of ripping these nutbags new a$$holes here and there.
(Before you think the worst of me, I’m not against republicans per se. Nor am I against political conservatism. It’s just that I don’t agree with the way these two have so easily jumped aboard the ideology bandwagon–thereby taking advantage of the ill-informed–in the last thirty or so years. It is extremely un-American of them! They have become bat$hit.)
Anywho. There was one story out of the 2016 presidential campaign–above all other stories–that really, really caught my attention. That story has to do with a young man that worked for the DNC and, under questionable circumstances, just after the release of the Podesta/DNC emails via Wikileaks, was found dead on the streets not far from his Washington DC home. His name?
The reason I premise this worst-post with how/if I read conservative news is because, unfortunately, the source for the article that motivated this post, about #SethRich, is in part… Oh God. I guess I have to admit it. Indeed. Oh krapp.
Part of the source is…
(Throw up. Barf. Clean up.)
That’s right. I read something on a website, via a tweet that leads to a blog post, that has as one of its sources Faux Newz. And I feel kind of filthy right now.
Pause. Taking shower…
As I posted here and here, I quite the Democratic party after Hillary’s loss–and especially after seeing what the Democrats did to Bernie Sanders. But the more I read about the death of #SethRich, the more intrigued I became. Obviously it’s not unusual in the the US that murders go unsolved. But this one had something different about it. I mean, come on. He worked for the DNC. It’s now known that he is the source to Wikileaks of the Podesta emails–if we can believe Zero Hedge. And yet, I’m sure, tomorrow, centrist media (MSNBC, NBC, CNN???) will still be reporting on how the Russians hacked Hillary’s chance of being president or how #Trump is meeting in Oval office and sharing more secrets than ever before… Blah. Blah. Blah.
Pause. Taking another shower….
Zero Hedge is a website I visit once-a-once. Although I like much of what’s posted there, I can’t take it that seriously because you never know its sources and the main publisher is one guy who could be many guys and has the name of a movie character who was better in the book the movie was based on. And so. It’s a good thing that there are still people out there that can differentiate between what is rational and what is irrational. Or maybe not.
Here’s the tweet that caught me today:
Boy, do I hope someday that they can find who killed this young man.
Here’s the link to the Zero-Hedge article:
Just did a google search to check more on this story. Here’s a few links with opposing opinions regarding who did what, who gave what to who, etc.
“Like most North Americans of his generation, Hal tends to know way less about why he feels certain ways about the objects and pursuits he’s devoted to than he does about the objects and pursuits themselves.”
-David Foster Wallace – Infinite Jest
In Bangelore during our stint there last year I noticed two things. You can only find green grass where wealth lives. For some reason that green grass might be hostile to the natural order of things. Or. Maybe a cat got to this bird.
Having a bad day. This is a NSFW post.
No. Seriously, dear worst-reader. Just a few moments ago I almost got into a fist fight with a German customs agent. Ok, well, maybe not a fist fight. So let me set this up.
Taking Beckett, the killer pug, for his afternoon waste-my-time walk, we come across a few street tents. As we got closer we could slowly see what was under those street tents. Whoopi! It was be-green day, save the world day. There were tents for the prevention of wearing fur, cruelty against animals and my favourite: German customs agents were informing the riffraff, i.e. the public, about what NOT to bring in the country after they go on their get up earlier than anybody to preserve your beach chair collective-state vacations.
On the tables under the customs agents tent were examples of the various contraband that has been confiscated at Düsseldorf Airport. There was a crocodile Dundee hat. That’s right. A real croc hat made out of real croc leather–lined with croc teeth. There were sea horses in a glass casing–that looked as though someone might have painted over them to make them look like toys. In a glass vodka bottle was a preserved (I’m assuming it was formaldehyde) cobra. Could there once have been vodka in that bottle and it was owned by a Russian oligarch who was flying through Germany after visiting Botswana? Then there was my favourite. Smack dab in the middle of one of the tables was a rhinoceros horn. Wait. rhinoceros horns. Plural. I think. And I don’t mean just the tip of the horn(s). It was a horn from one of them rhinos that has two horns. The whole of the skull of the rhino was still attached to the horn(s). It was fucking gross. And that’s when everything started to get queazy for me. There were hundreds of examples of once live animals that the riffraff tried to import into Germany–illegally. Boo-fuckin’-who, eh! Barf!
But here’s the thing. I fucking hate these pretentious motherfuckers who go out on the streets and try to convince people to join their little bandwagon of nitwits–and thereby never actually making it clear as to the reality behind nation-state customs officiality. (That’s just another worst-word that almost combines reality-tv with official. Or maybe not.) So I turned to one of the customs officials and proceeded to attempt (at having) a provocative conversation about officiality. All the while I was on the verge of throwing up my guts and slapping someone silly.
Moi: Why is it illegal to bring this stuff into the country? Most of these animals are already dead when the vacationing riffraff buy them. They are, in effect, trinkets sold by very, very, very poor people who would otherwise have nothing else–except what all poor people have–namely the inability to feed their idiotic offspring. What’s the harm in that?
Customs official: (narrowly translated to English for the hearing impaired) It’s illegal.
Moi: Oh really, Opa! What an ingenious answer. Did you hear my fucking question?
Customs official: It’s illegal. Duh.
Moi: Yes. I understand that. But why?
Custom official: Germany make law. Illegal. Ugh, ugh, ugh.
Moi: Yes, my Germanish ape friend. I get that. But have you ever thought about the reason for such a law? Who does it really serve?
Customers official: In Germany illegal…
I gave up on the conversation not because I was talking to an ape but because Germans were starting to stand around me, they were starting to hone in on the foreigner who might in some way disrespect the(ir) collective. Run for the hills indeed, the pitch forks are being dusted off.
And that fucking set of rhino horns was ringing dollar signs in the back of my head. It was the only thing preventing me from throwing up all over the place. If only I could get my hands on them horns. I could sell them, you know. I would make enough to get the fuck out of collective land, out of #eurowasteland, out of my gold cage. And then I would go to fucking Thailand and eat baby seahorses while strangling fucking whales the Japanese are not longer allowed to hunt (in open oceans).
(Gently close can of worms now.)
Don’t get me wrong, dear worst-reader. I’m fucking with you. And. I know that there is exploitation in the world. I know that there are endangered species out there that need protection. But here’s what gets under my gander with all these pretentious wannabe fucks that think they are saving this fucking rathole that we call earth by protesting something that does nothing but help feed really, really poor people–and, of course, keep them poor, as well.
Customs officiliaty today should serve to protect the poor of other countries as much as it protects the rich of its own country. Bingo!
If the German corporate state wouldn’t pump so much cash into China so that a few fucking perverts who own all that cheap labour can build Audis that make German stockholders more money, then maybe they wouldn’t have enough cash to buy fucking rhinoceros horns for their perverted sex activities after they grind them up into powder and snort that shit away as though camels shit roses and and and…
Oh wait. You didn’t know that rich Chinese fucks grind down rhino horns into powder and then snort the powder before having sex with slave girls?
Now go buy another fucking Audi.
What has #eurowasteland done for you lately, dear worst-reader? Well, the answer is simple. Nothing. Or. Put another way. At least it hasn’t given us another fcuking world war.
It behooves me to say something about recent farcical election in France–that so many are comparing to the recent farcical election of my beloved #americant but because of the results consider France’s a godsend. The problem for these and all current iterations of the acts of democracy is that Macron’s election is nothing if not a win for the status quo, i.e. political conservatism. That’s not to say that I was rooting for Le Pen. It’s just that, if anyone actually believes that Macron is gonna do anything to deal with what’s going on in Europe (the entire western world) right now… Come on.
As I noted in one of my previous worst-posts, I love France. Even though I live in the Germania partition of the joke that is #eurowasteland, France is my true love. Humanity owes a great debt to France becuase of what it did to useless eating monarchs. And let me not get started on monarchs! The fact that they are still around… And so. Here’s the thing about the sodom & gamorrah that we live in today:
Why is it when the down cylce of capitalism reaches this point, as it inevitably always does, there’s only one example in (our) history of (political) liberalism winning over conservatism to come out and save the day?
According to the krapp I’ve read about our history, that is, the result of the history that has made this greed-suck-world we are all forced to live in, only FDR stands out as an example of someone who saved the day? That’s right, dear worst-reader. FDR, who was not necassarily a liberal politician, realised during the great depression that there was only one way to fix things. Tax the fcuking rich! Ok. Ok. Did he stop America from entering the European war theatre? No. But, again, he taxed the fcuking rich and told them:
If you don’t pay they will come. They are standing outside your (rich) door right now with pitch forks and guillotines. They carry with them communism, socialism, the collective society that you and your faux newz fantasy despise. And if you let them win by gauging them of every last drop of their labor, you’re doomed–perhaps not unlike King Louis. And so my fellow rich brethren of European lore…
Indeed. FDR saved capitalism from the threat it had become (to itself). Of course, to payback the children of the capitalists that lost because of their game that culminated in The Great Depression, FDR graciously won WW2 and thereby supplanted Europe as a world power. By-the-bye, the children and grand-children of those loser capitalists are still running my beloved #americant today. Yeah, baby. We have become what we defeat–and then some.
Which brings me to this worst-post’s worst-question: whether it’s in my beloved US with comb-over-chief #Trump or the joke-island of Brexit, why is it that the movers & shakers of politics now ALL come from the extreme right of the political spectrum?
Link that motivated this post:
Not quite sure. But I am sure that this photo will join the rest of my collection of worst-photos. Should’ve taken better care with the photo. When I took the shot it was clearly the remaining half of a rodent that got the attention of Beckett, the killer pug, while we are on his morning walk. I assure, dear worst-reader, my dog didn’t cause this obscenity. Then again, now I’m not sure if it’s a mouse half anymore. Nomatter.
I’m seriously trying not to pay attention to all the BS that’s going on with #Trump right now. But it’s hard, you know what I’m worst-saying, dear worst-reader? It’s hard because my best guess tells me that #Trump is a frickin genius. Forget all the firings, the crazy tweets, the whacky press briefings by that snobby bed wetter. #Trump is playing me. I know he is. Has there ever been this much power consolidated in the republican party before? Now that really-really frickin scares me. Yeah. It scares me more than that comb-over that he’s so good at hiding–or is he so good at feeding it?
I suppose this would work well as Bill O’Reilly gift, too.