Not Only In #Trumpland Does Disinformation Serve The Agenda. Would You Believe Corporations Use Smoke Screens Too? Duh!

three dollar bill apple logo (low res)

Worst-writer has been wielding an iPhone 6s for well over two years now. It’s my second “smartphone”. Worst-writer has never been a fan of Apple’s iOS. In fact, most computer operating systems suck. On top of that, the whole smartphone thing bores me. Reason? These things can do so much more. Here’s my worst-dream for smartphones: These things should be a person’s sole device. When on the go, there’s the phone. When at home or in the office, we should be able to use it with some kind interface (hub, docking station, etc.) and thereby have a monitor, keyboard and pointing device. Indeed. We should be able, as of 2017, to carry around a full functioning PC in our pocket. Instead we carry around widget that serves a higher greed purpose. But I digress.

From what I can tell from iPads, Surface tablets, smartphones, etc., these things are most certainly powerful enough to fulfil worst-writer’s worst-dream. Yet we’re still stuck with having to buy separate hardware in order to worst-write, worst-view and worst-consume… all the porn the world and its females can offer. So when I read krapp about how the world’s greediest corporation may or may not be manipulating its products in order to force consumers to buy anew, I go he-he-ha-ha-he-he-haaaaaa.

As far as smokescreens go–which we should all be used to considering a world where #Trump can get elected–Apple has done a fine job of shifting the issue that we should really be discussing. The fact is, Apple’s products are not only dependent on batteries, but they are also dependent on software. I know. I know. Most worst-readers reading this know that. But still, since the issue broke about Apple’s greed systemamtic planned product obsoletism, it seems the whole thing is now ending in it all being about the battery. The problem is sooooooooo not the battery.

For those interested, here’s worst-writer’s solution to the whole worst-thing. Combined with a fair priced battery replacement, Apple could make an iPhone last (until the hardware fails) by allowing customers a choice which iOS version they want to use, including just staying with the iOS that came with the device when it was purchased. IMHO, it is all these crazy iOS upgrades that ruin not only battery life but the whole user experience. Seriously. There is nothing in any iOS upgrade I’ve experienced that has made the degraded functionality that follows worthwhile. Btw, IMHO, that’s exactly what PC makers–including Apple Macs–have done with operations system upgrades, too. But what the hell do I know?

Rant on.

-T

Link that motivated this post:

That Day Great White Apes Unlearned A$$ Whipping And Replaced It With Learned A$$ Kissing–Plus My Translation of Rammstein’s Bück Dich

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Wake up, dear worst-reader. I’ve got some worst-newz for ya. Did you know that there was one of the worst outbreaks of hepatitis-a in the greatest country in the universe last year? Whaaaaa? Repeat: hepatitis-a broke out in southern California! You didn’t know that? Did you not know it because, well, you’re one of the automatons that actually directly contributed to there being such an outbreak? The problems of the world today is mostly due to the passive yet indirect contributory activity of the automaton masses. Even though that mass has been systematically culled over the past two or three decades. Perhaps that’s the reason automatons are so damn nasty these days. And by-the-buy, did you also know that hepatitis-a is one of the easiest diseases to prevent? That’s right, all you gotta do is clean up after yourself and make sure everything else is clean around you. And when I worst-write about clean I’m not talking about clean sneakers or picking up after yourself when you finish your fast-food. I reckon in the land of the free-to-be-stupid taking cleanliness to higher levels–and keeping them there–is asking for a bit much. Of course, my beloved #americant isn’t alone among the so-called first world nations that’s having trouble getting rid of the one thing humanity knows how to make without exploiting others to do it. Even though the two situations I’m referencing here (links below) are quite different, one thing remains the same. You can trace the automaton worship of greed as being the point of entry to the poverty of the soul we all live for now. And the fact that the poor–I’m worst writing about the real poor here–the people that can’t even afford to wipe their a$$es–are soon gonna join the zombies (automatons) as the fastest growing population segment–without proper sanitation and/or sewage. Indeed. Until then, not only do automatons need a place to $hit in the filthy and dilapidated office buildings but the wannabe automatons who couldn’t make it (yes, I’m pretty much one of the later) are leading the way of having to $hit in the streets again (but I’m not quite there yet). Wow. Not unlike feudalism from the good old days, eh?

For what ever strange reason, worst-writing about all this unnecessary poverty in this world got me thinking about Rammstein. I mean, of course, the band and not the rundown town in southwestern Germany. There’s always been something about the song Bück Dich that has bothered me over the years. I remember struggling with the text when I first heard it. Words like Antlitz and Passgang drove me to the brink of coping with having learned this gross language. Yet these words were somehow poetic islands in the sea of wanna-cry devastation that the world has brought upon itself simply because there is so much inherent greed and hate for brothers, sisters and all the freak show inhabitants in-between. Which brings me to this new translation retry of Rammstein’s Bück Dich1:

Bück dich befehl ich dir
(I order you, bend over (and get on all fours))
Wende dein Antlitz ab von mir
(Keep your (facial) expressions to yourself (because of what I’m doing to you)
Dein Gesicht ist mir egal
(Your face doesn’t matter (which is not unlike a whore fcuking her John)
Bück dich
(Get on all fours)

Ein Zweibeiner auf allen Vieren
(Two-Legs is on all fours)
Ich führe ihn spazieren
(I take him for a walk)
Im Passgang den Flur entlang
(Amble along the hallway)
Ich bin enttäuscht
(I’m disappointed)

Jetzt kommt er rückwarts mir entgegen
(Two-Legs passes by me going backwards (but what he really means is that his subject is starting to want it))
Honig bleibt am Strumpfband kleben
(The/my honey sticks to his stockings)
Ich bin enttauscht total enttauscht
(I’m disappointed, really disappointed)

Bück Dich…
Das Gesicht interessiert mich nicht
(Faces don’t interest me)

Der Zweibeiner hat sich gebückt
(Two-Legs bends over)
In ein gutes Licht geruckt
(Finding favour in the light (where I can hone my aim))
Zeig ich ihm was man machen kann
(I show him what a man can do (to another man))
Und ich fang zu weinen an
(Which brings me to tears (of joy or maybe not))

Der Zweifuss stammelt ein Gebet
(Two-Legs screws-up his prayers)
Aus Angst weil es mir schlechter geht
(He is afraid because I’m not pleased (with his performance))
Versucht er tief sich noch zu bücken
(So he tries harder to bend over more)
Tranen laufen hoch den Rucken
(My tears flow up his back)

-end translation-

So I guess, in a way, dear worst-reader, Rammstein has written a homage to humanity and its ability to subject itself to Bück Dick or, putting it in a less Germanic way, bent over and wantonly penetrated so you can have a life where/while someone else can’t. That is, indeed, the only reason you have a life, isn’t it? Because someone else doesn’t? Or are we still on the great white ape thing and how humanity achieved so much coming out of the stone age? But I digress.

Good luck suckers.

Rant on.

-T

Links that motivated this post:


  1. Note dear worst-reader: I’m taking extreme liberties with this translation. In fact, I am stretching bigly here in an attempt to capture some essence. For example, although I’m using a simple and direct translation of Bück Dich above, there are other translations that would be just as good, e.g. bend over bitch, bow (as in before me), submit (your ass to me), know your place (in this world or in this corporation), I know your place (in this world or in this corporation and will lead you to it you fcuking simpleton automaton that has never had an original thought). ↩︎

The Bridge To The Cliff Has Already Been Crossed. So How’s The View While Falling Off The Cliff That Has Been Your Life Journey?

orwell big brother

The political payback president stupid owes certain republicans has been trickling in with ferocity lately. By certain republicans, of course, I’m referring to the bat$hit religious nutjobs that got Stupid elected. The best example of this can be seen in #Trump’s appointees. There are also a bunch of bat$hit appellate judges he’s been appointing–some of which have never tried a case in court. The way the State Department is being gutted is another example. The department is being headed by a #Trump appointee that is still a f’n Boy Scout. (Yes, I’m ragging on Boy Scouts.) Through new ideological leadership a bunch of long standing diplomats are either early-retiring or quitting their posts at the US State Department. I don’t know about you, dear worst-reader, but I thought draining the swamp had more to do with elected officials and not a bunch easy-target bureaucrats. And let’s not get too deep into the recent tax break that’s been approved by a bat$hit republican Congress–where the richest #americants are not only being giving the largest government hand-out ever but are also being enabled to hoard what’s left of an already decimated economy that probably can’t recover. And by-the buy, how much do you want to bet that of all the free-money the rich are getting after this tax-break none of it will recirculate back in the country? But all that nonsense is neither here nor there. Reason? I can deal with $tupid politics. Stupid politics can be fixed. But there is one thing in politics that can’t be fixed and it almost passed right be me the other day–if it weren’t for a German article my better half showed to me. Did you get the recent BS about #Trump telling the CDC (Centre for Disease Control) what words to use when publishing official documents, especially budget reports? Get this:

In some instances, the analysts were given alternative phrases. Instead of “science-based” or ­“evidence-based,” the suggested phrase is “CDC bases its recommendations on science in consideration with community standards and wishes,” the person said. -from Wash Post article

Gee, dear worst-reader, who do you think the community standards and wishes is in the quote above? If this doesn’t put creepy crawlers under your skin, than nothing should. This is Orwell newspeak, baby. And it’s being officially dolled out by your electoral college elected officials.

Look what you’ve done #americant.

Good luck suckers.

Rant on.

-T

Links that motivated this post:

Maybe Put A Label On It Instead Of Enabling A Bimbo To Sing Put A Ring On The Heart Of Suckers Born Every Minute

sucker born every minute
“There is a sucker born every minute” -PT Barnum

How do you regulate consumption? The consumer is the backbone of the greed economy. No wonder we all have back pain, eh. Yet we also live in a system that has found a way to protect the riches of great-great grandparents. Indeed. Long dead stupid white people have inherited their wealth to offspring that are obviously less ingenious. It’s interesting how the careful consideration of wealth can have grave ramification for a society that only knows the power of suckling the teat of a really, really fat motherfcuker. But I digress.

The issue today, dear worst-reader, is how former president Obama takes sides in the debate of what to do with a society over flowing with Stupid. I mean, why else would it even be an issue–this whole fcuking fake newz thing–if there were just a few more smarts in the world? And so, even a pretty smart guy jumps the gun and blames, of course, the wrong thing for the wrong reasons. And so the disinformation show–which is something different than fake newz–goes on.

Btw, if Obama warns us about “irresponsible social media abuse” who is gonna warn us about all the greed abuse that got us to this dystopia place at all? Oh well.

Good luck suckers.

Rant on.

Link that motivated this post:

Pyongyang’s Train Driver (A Dream)

kim jong un portrait

The man I was sent to replace was named Charlie. His full name: Christofer Littleton. He was born in Liverpool, England, but hadn’t been back there since he was a kid. After his mother abruptly died on his twelfth birthday, his father, who was an engineer for the British army, packed up everything and the two went to India. Charlie finished growing up in Bangelore where his father was a consultant to the Indian Government. After completing compulsory school and utilising contacts from his father, Charlie took a job as a tool-man in Hong Kong. When he departed India, it was two days before his eighteenth birthday. It was 1953.

A “Tool-Man” is another name for a train engineer.

His idea was to work in China and help that country develop its metro system. To start, though, Charlie worked with the digging crews that would eventually lay the first rails of the Hong Kong MTR. During his second year, right after his contract was renewed, Charlie met Marry. Marry was from Korea. Marry moved to HK just after North Korea tried to invade South Korea. Marry and Charlie never had a family. One day Marry went to Charlie and told him she was unhappy with their lives in Hong Kong and that her unhappiness had nothing to do with being barren. She then said that she had a big family back in Korea and she was ready to go home. Charlie had worked ten years. The HK MTR was flourishing.

Charlie quit his job at Hong Kong MTR. With in a few months he and Marry took a boat to South Korea. Once there Marry revealed that her family wasn’t in the South but instead in the North. This revelation had little impact. Charlie joined his wife and the two entered North Korea. It was 1965.

I met Charlie in 1989 in a small office in the south-east corner basement of The Pyongyang Great Hall. The door to Charlie’s office was labelled “Tool-Man” and below that was the Korean translation. After greetings and other formalities, Charlie immediately took me to the train station that was directly at the rear entrance of The Great Hall. It was during this walk through the building that I realised my situation. I was living a dream. Yes, dear worst-reader. Some live dreams through the physical universe, some do not.

I tried to question Charlie about his decision to live in The North. Other than the following, Charlie withheld elaborating about his life decisions. He said, “Do your job.” His other remark was: Not unlike where you come from, everything here is not a dream.

We exited the rear of The Great Hall and I found myself standing directly on the train departure platform. Something was waaaaay out of whack. I couldn’t place it, though. My watch read nine forty-six. The morning air was fresh and crisp, unlike the air in Seoul–which I had no recollection of traveling to. The grey sky dimmed my view somewhat of the train grounds behind The Grat Hall but below the platform was a single narrow gauge track. The track was just as out-of-whack as the departure platform. In fact, according to my limited knowledge of trains, the gauge of the track meant that the train could not be a real train. But none of that mattered because, regardless of train here or there, I would command it the rest of my life… in North Korea.

During the first few moments of this passing of the baton, Charlie voiced soliloquies about his endeavours and when he was done he continued with songs of glory-interludes, adding tales of privilege while driving Dear Leader around the grounds behind The Great Hall. There was also a small buffet of goose-shrimp, tackle-butter and confused-gender bread but only attendees with a special badge could take from it. I did not have the special badge.

I kept one eye on Charlie and the other on the people gathering around us. As each person recognised Charlie and then me, the reason for my presence became clearer. Oh, dear worst-dreamer, I was indeed there for a reason. The reason goes beyond the metaphysical of my never having laid one foot in either South or North Korea. As best as I can surmise, the only reason I was there–in reality or not–was to relay Charlie’s message. For I am, in fact, a chronicler of a dream’s dream.

Being a tool-man wasn’t Charlie’s only purpose in life. His life was the two sides of all coins. First there was Marry. Second there was his message. Together these two purposes served a power higher than even the most giving and willing humans have ever attempted. I speak, of course, of the great messengers Jesus, Mohammad and, perhaps, #Trump. (I use the word “perhaps” because purpose remains to be determined. Or?)

Upon my arrival Charlie had already surpassed his time on earth. His extension or continuance, if you will, was granted by Dear Leader. The cause of this grant was a mistake in life and was not unlike mistakes from other infamous messengers: He failed to get the message out.

I’m wondering if the whole idea of message-delivery is that which brings me to my greatest fear: Not having enough time to debate the error and misfortune of the only son-of-God, born to this foul-able coil, like so many others, of mortality, and thereby stuck with the impossible. But I’m off subject–perhaps.

No matter where Charlie stood during the ceremony there was a descending sun-glow around his head. He had no remorse in saying goodbye to the facility that had him trapped for so many years. Is his face just like that of Jesus? Was his a face of disappointment? A face of misguided rage? Forgive me father for we have sinned?

By-the-buy, asking The Father for forgiveness of your sins was once a translators interpretation of pre canonical text. The reason it is still used today, even though it has nothing to do with biblical forgiveness-seeking, is because it’s what JC said either before or after “Father why hast thou forsaken me.” In fact, JC mumbled no-nonsense for hours before his final light went out.

But Charlie’s remorse was something else. In fact, I’d go so far as to claim that he knew all along that I would get the baton. He might not have known my face but he knew someone would be there. He might have even known all along that he wouldn’t be able to get his message out. So I also wondered if he was enjoying the suffering in my face. Yes, I think he was enjoying it.

After elegantly praising his time as Tool-Man and extolling the joy of marriage, he turned to me and put a hand in a coat pocket. Out of his pocket he pulled a lone key attached to a six inch diameter stainless steel ring. He handed me the ring and key and told me to be gentle but also firm… with her. Then he added: she will determine your time. He stood at attention as the small gauge train rolled around the small gauge track and came to halt before us–on the small departure platform. It was the first time I had seen the down-scaled train.

The underlings of the train exited from one of the three cars attached and they all shook hands with Charlie first. Charlie responded in Korean to their gestures and when all was done, the underlings turned to me and offered salutations anew. As I began to shake hands and reciprocate, Charlie entered the last train car and the train drove off towards the west corner of The Great Hall and I would never see him again.

Just then I woke up.

-end-

Rant on.

-T

Yet Another Example Of Fixing Stupid With Stupider

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That’s right. The red text is from worst-writer.

Disclaimer: The pic above is not an ad. Also, I wish no ill-will to the winery. And in all fairness, the wine wasn’t all that bad (as I eventually did try it–but never drank a glass of it). But I do wish to be critical–on behalf of all humanity that has not allowed itself to be distorted by wilful ignorance.

The pic above, dear worst-reader, is from a recent visit to The Homeland. And that’s where everything starts, doesn’t it? I mean. Come on. A once great nation can now be referred to as The Homeland. If Orwell were to turn in his grave, he also most certainly would be cynically laughing his a$$ off right now. What Aldus Huxley would be doing is whole ‘nother question–so let’s not go there (yet). Instead. Consider The Homeland and what lead to The Homeland for the rest of this worst-post. And now… let’s continue with a blossoming feminine flower that is in a perpetual state of menstruation but eventually finds it way to all-things cognitive.

The wine in the bottle in the pic above is called “Reconciliation”. As bad as the name The Homeland is, Reconciliation can be no worse. Or? When I first saw this bottle and recognised what someone was offering me to drink and what some wine maker decided to call it, I fcuking freaked out. After a few minutes, though, when my steamy, rocket-ship feet once again found solidity with this earth, images and audio of George Carlin and Bill Hicks began to scatter through the innards of my skull. It’s at that moment I turned to the person attempting to serve me.

“I’m not drinking anything from that bottle. Thank you all the same,” I said.

“Why not?”

“Have you lost all since of reality,” I asked my gracious but somewhat politically naive host.

“What do you mean, it’s good wine. I buy it by the case. It was a great catch last summer.”

“My friend…,” I tried to continue but was having trouble pushing my chin upwards in attempt to close-off my dropped jaw.

Here’s the thing, dear worst-reader. There has never been and, perhaps, there should never be Reconciliation. Reason? When a war is won, there is a loser and there is a winner. The dip$hit southern states of the United Mistakes of #americant lost the Civil War. And the cock-sucking traitors didn’t JUST lose. They lost big time. And not only did they lose, but they should have also lost the right to even be part of the United Mistakes. Every fcuking person in the fcuking south should have been put on a ship and sent to Africa where they and their great grand children should spend eternity trying to find forgiveness where forgiveness isn’t deserved. With that in mind, Abraham Lincoln deserves a big… Fcuk You Abe! For letting so many of THEM off the hook.

Considering the (political) state of the US today, I suppose it’s no wonder that a bottle of wine named after a lie can be sold to certain clientele. Obviously, according to worst-writer, this clientele is part of the TV nation, better known as The DumbDown aka The Homeland. Even I–a harbinger of wanton intolerance that began with Ronald Reagan–know that rational thinking can only go so far–and so: a bottle of wine named after a systematically perpetuated lie is at the end of my (tolerance) rope. Obviously, there is a place/need for The DumbDown in a society. But the problem now is that The DumbDown have practically taken over as they serve a higher monetary power. But I digress.

Indeed. Let the Phoenix rise. Let the motherfcuker burn (down).

Rant on.

-T

Typing On The New MacBook, The Joy Of Butterfly

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I can’t feel a thing. Well, actually I feel a small click. Yes. It’s a click where there should be movement. And I’m not talking about the trackpad? Yet, so similar are these new input and control gadgets on Apple’s new MacBook. Comparatively, there is much more movement of the keys and the trackpad of my MacBook Air (MBA). And, btw, I’ve always hated chicklet keyboards. And so, Apple came up with a software solution to enhance the typing environment–just for me.

Get this.

You can, in preferences, actually turn on a clicking sound for the trackpad. Ain’t that a hoot! Of course, I don’t know if that’s cool or stupid. But I don’t really care. The software click of the trackpad corresponds perfectly to the precise click of the keyboard and its oh-so limited butterfly key travel. In fact, I’d say this new keyboard is actually louder than the old keyboard. And so, I’m thinking about the keys of the Apple USB keyboard connected to my Mac Pro 5,1. Those keys move more than the ones on my MBA. And as stated: I’m not a fan of chicklets. Yet, in my pseudo review of this MacBook, something isn’t right… when I’m not typing on it.

Here’s the confiscation run-down.

I’m not sure my wife’s 100% behind me taking her MacBook. On the other hand, I can’t stand seeing the thing just lie around. She bought this 2nd gen MacBook in the late summer of 2016 but never really used it. Why she bought it in the first place is another story. In short, it had something to do with her job and BYOD (bring your own device). It turns out that her iPad was more than enough to be her daily driver–even at work. After about six or eight months lugging both the MacBook and the iPad to work she started leaving the MacBook home. That’s when I started fiddling with it in the name of empirical study. I was curious about the device since its debut. It turns out that the performance of the M3 processor is every bit as good as the performance of the i7 processor of my 2015 MBA. Let me tell you, dear worst-reader, that was the first sign that my MBA’s days were numbered.

The complaints.

The Interwebnet is full of MacBook keyboard sucks complainers. Reviewers and users alike all have something negative to say about this new design. Complaints usually start with the price, then comes the keyboard and it all seems to culminate with the single USB-C port. To me, considering Apple’s product trajectory, which is obviously iOS centric, this MacBook only makes sense. I for one am not ready to go iOS–but I see the inevitability of the future. Trust me, I tried i0S. I had a iPad 4 for about a year. And I honestly tried to supplant my 2013 13″ MacBook Pro with it. I did not succeed. I dumped the iPad 4 for an Apple refurbished MacBook Air. (By-the-buy, that’s the only way I buy Apple hardware now.) Apple’s pro machines are too high-priced and also a bit of tech overkill for my needs. And so, my best guess is the only reason Apple still has the Air model is so they can offer it to guys like me in the $999 bracket–or even cheaper refurbished. Anywho. The new-fangled MacBook starts at three hundred bucks more than an Air–and for the life of me I don’t really know why. Despite the new design features, it feels as though you are paying way more for way less by going with the new device. A hefty hunk of change indeed.

And now for some worst-writer honesty.

If I were at an Apple Store right now I wouldn’t even look at a MacBook. That pink colour is just too f’n scary. I would go straight to the Pro line. I’m not sure how long it would take, but after a few milliseconds of witnessing the price of “pro” models, I’d be out of the store and once again walking home where I would try and catch a great deal buying from Apple’s refurbish program. There is no doubt that Apple Macs are waaaaaaay over priced. Yet, I’m stuck in the eco-system. I’m only glad that I have a choice other than full retail consumption of this krapp.  That said, here I am–by means of marital confiscation–absolutely loving the new design, including the keyboard, the single port and f’n everything else. Is it faster than my three year old Air (with i7 cpu): no. Is the screen better: yes. Is the build better: yes. Is the keyboard better: it’s definitely not worse than any chicklet keyboard. Which brings me to…

The only thing I ever learned in #americant public school was the ability to all finger type.

I probably haven’t typed anything on a mechanical typewriter in about two years. I think I might have used my Hermes Baby last year when I needed to address some envelopes. That’s right, dear worst-reader. I addressed snail mail envelopes using a typewriter instead of printing from a laser printer. The reason for that, other than romance and nostalgia mixed with bit of boredom, is not worth addressing here. What’s important is that I don’t miss typing on typewriters. It was/is time to give them up–and not because I too am becoming outdated. I have long since embraced the glorified-typewriters aka computers of today for all my writing. In fact, I was thinking about buying one of them glass cabinets and putting it in a room and filling it with Hermes, Olivetti, Olympia, Princess and Groma Kolibri–all of which are retired in a few boxes in my basement.

glass cabinet for typwriter collection

Oh yeah. The MacBook keyboard.

For the life of me I can’t understand why people complain about this keyboard. Considering that I’ve always found chicklet keyboards a bad idear, this so-called butterfly keyboard made me curious from the get-go. I can see why finger-picking typists would have a hard time with it. The keys have very little travel and even less tactile feel. For finger-pickers it must be like tapping on a glass plate–or worse: typing on an iPad (aghast). When I focus with all nine fingers*, when I soften my strokes, when I get going, I love this keyboard. The butterfly mechanism alleviates having to find the sweet spot of, say, chicklet keys–which is often the biggest problem I’ve had when using my ring finger and little finger on those keyboards. No matter what part of the key you touch on the new MacBook keyboard, it activates. It also makes it easier to find/reach shift-keys and all the other non letter keys with ring and little fingers.

Worst-Writer conclusion: the only other laptop keyboard that has ever been worth a hoot is that of the older Thinkpads. But from what I understand Lenovo, since taking over from IBM, has resorted to chicklet keys, too. As far as I can tell, getting rid of the chicklet keyboard was one of the best things Apple could do. With that in mind, you finger typists should finally learn to type.

Rant on.

-T

*Nine fingers because I use only my right thumb when typing.

Sous-Vide Goose With Asian Rub Will Be Served In 22 Hours With Chinese Dumplings And Red Cabbage

Nine month old Goose vacuum packed and in bath water of 65 degrees celsius (ca 150f). Also known as Sous-Vide. Before dig-in will place bird on the Weber grill for about 20-30 minutes to get it crispy. The Chinese dumplings to go with it are supposed to have a filling made out of the innards but I’ve never been a fan of organs. Although we did prepare the innards according to the recipe, the flavour is just too… liver. Will probably substitute innards with mushrooms and/or maybe oats. Not sure yet. We’ll figure it out.

Merry f’n xmas.

Rant on.

-T

Finding Your Star Chamber Behind The Swine Ear Before The Nail Falls On The Hammer

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Worst-thoughts of the day, dear worst-reader. Hope you have your tolerance-hat on for worst-writing galore. With that in mind, good luck.

Donald Trump and Alex Jones and a society that can’t rise above conspiracy theory, WWE and stupid ugly old white people that belong in the 1950s. No. Seriously. They really do belong in the 1950s. In fact, wouldn’t it be grand if they should somehow be sent there right now? No kidding. Right now. And if they don’t belong in the 1950s and they’re sent there by mistake then it could be corrected if they are sent instead either to the middle or the end of the fcuking middle-ages. Imagine that. WWE wrastlers hanging out in 1790s London. Or how about Alex Jones (the grand conspiracy $hitbag entertainer of the royal middle-class dumb-down) facing a landlord that sucks the dick of some #euro$hitland monarch. But before things get too out of hand…

Does anyone remember the movie The Star Chamber? Don’t worry, I don’t remember it either. But I do remember the 5th amendment of the united mistakes constitution and how preventing self-incrimination was actually a result of a real-life Star Chamber from the late middle ages. Can you imagine living in those times, dear worst-reader? If not, don’t worry. For you don’t have to imagine anything. You’re in those times right now.

The reason I reference a bad 80s movie and one of the many ugly parts of human history is because I can’t help but feel that somehow both the ugly and history are repeating. Forget the fact that 2017 economics is kinda in the same place as, say, 1917. Of course, obviously, that which culminated in The Great Depression won’t repeat in the same way. I’m guessing the reason for that is people have gotten more stupid. You know the old adage. “You can’t fix stupid. Unless you fix it by making it stupider.” And so. Are you the least bit curious as to how the past will repeat itself since you’re pretty much living in the end of the middle ages, too?

Do you know what the worst-thing is about #Trump? I mean, the situation my beloved #americant is in is even worse than his hair, his moronic and spoiled rotten personality, and even the people that he thinks he represents. That’s right. He doesn’t represent people. That’s the real joke about him. I mean, he believes that people voted for him. I’ll give him that. He’s just not bright enough to realise that those people who did vote, were actually voting for something else. And as someone once said…

An idea is the hardest thing to kill.

So. Like. I’m walking down the street the other day and my dog, Beckett, the killer pug, is sniffing soggy mulch and trying to tip toe through the wetness we’ve been having since October. Seriously. It’s been raining here in the Germanic portion of #eurowasteland (where I live) pretty much non stop since October. In fact, it’s so wet here that I can sometimes feel the moisture in my bones trying to find due-north–or at least the direction the Rhine is flowing.

Whenever I waste time thinking about #Trump and my beloved #americant, usually while walking my dog, every once-a-once also think about Alex Jones, wrastling and how unsurprising the new tax $hitshow is. I mean, of the news that I do listen to–mostly via podcasts–it’s all about my beloved #americant. Seriously. I don’t even bother listening to anything about Germania or #eurwasteland. I mean. What’s the point in that? The only countries do anything these days are China, Russia and, yes, #Trumpland. Which means… I’ve been wondering ever since the Dick Cheney regime what will be the catalyst to push the whole $hitshow off the cliff? Or. Why hasn’t it fallen yet? I thought, briefly, when the electoral college elected #Trump, the cliff was finally behind (or above) us. But I quickly realised that that wasn’t the case. President Stupid hadn’t done anything yet. And up until the other day, other then tweets of nonsense, attacking is predecessor and even his previous political opponent, dilly-dallying around on Airforce One, playing golf, etc., etc., he’s done nothing. Absolutely nothing.

The things I’ve been reading about this new tax thing that’s gonna happen is pretty scary. I’m trying to dig up in my memory if, when Reagan did the same thing–but on a much smaller scale so many years ago–the game is finally up. I mean, obviously, Reaganomics, did have a somewhat constructive initiation within the kaputt economy where it started. But that level of Kaputt is no longer applicable. Or am I wrong, dear worst-reader? Nomatter. The thing I’m trying to get at, I guess, is that maybe there is no cliff to fall off of. Maybe, instead, what we’re really dealing with is a $hitshow of such epic proportions that the only way to deal with it is to go this route of spending the money of the future like never before.

Rant on.

-T

Things Are Moving Along Just Fine In The Land Of The Docile Free To Be Stupid

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Something to ease the minds of the dumb-downed as another useless evening presents itself in the wake of my beloved and missed #americant dealing with a grand new-fangled tax scam from president smart for the rich and stupid for the rest of you suckers. Also wondering who the college grads are that set up all this digital krapp that’s so blatantly in my way. (If I only knew my way.) And get this: You can actually buy a movie on #itunes for less than renting it. I’m worst-wondering how this relates to the day. Also wondering what did all those college grads actually learn in college that has gotten us here?

That’s right. They all majored in…

#edumacation, baby.

Rant on.

-T

Pseudo Review: Followup Of Newly Confiscated 2016 12″ MacBook

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The first pseudo-review is here. A third is here.

How did I get here, dear worst-reader? How did I get to be the confiscating husband I’ve become? And how did I get to this place I’m at where being overwhelmed w/ tech gadgets could be so frustrating? You know, dear worst-reader, as a useless-eater, as an exploiter of Tennessee Williams’ and Blanche Dubois’ “I’ve always been dependent on the kindness of strangers”, I wake up in the morning (sometimes) and say to myself: what the hell am I gonna do with all this tech krapp that has begotten me? Are there not people in the world cleaning up poisonous tech gadget waste dumps because of me? Are there not children’s fingers bleeding from mining the rare elements that make up the innards of these devices? Or perhaps the better, more prudent question is: Do I really have a need for all this krapp? I’ve got desktop computers, servers, laptops, phones, watches, tablets, etc. I’ve got video editors, glorified and digitised typewriters, backup devices, routers and LAN bridges, etc., etc. And I’ve also got a big old box in my basement labelled “Apple” where I store all the stuff I don’t/can’t use anymore. I know. I know. I should call it “junk”. The sad part of all this consume-to-survive nothingness is that it’s actually hard even giving this stuff away–especially when you have no friends and so little contact with the outer world. Indeed. Corporate agenda consume-to-survive obsoletism and dust collecting. That’s me. With that in mind, who would have guessed–after years and years of youth driven anger–I’d be in this phase of life overwhelmed with too much gadgetry? What to do, what to do, what to do–other than consume more.

The pseudo review.

As mentioned in my previous review of the 2016 12″ MacBook (see link above), there was/is something about it that got under my collar. That something has left me perturbed with my beloved MacBook Air. I mean. I don’t need two laptops. Does anyone need two laptops? But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Damn you Apple engineers! In short. The MacBook is nothing short of amazing. In fact, it’s so good, I’ve found myself questioning why Apple has continued the MacBook Air line of laptops. So does it matter that the MacBook is outrageously expensive compared to other laptops, especially Apple’s MacBook Air? Which begs the question: Is this little device worth all that stupid-money? I suppose that’s exactly why Apple has kept the Air models going. For worst-moi, though, having a relatively new, i.e. three year old Air, the discussion is now moot since I got hooked on the 12″ model a few months ago. The real issue is, does the new 12″ MacBook (not really new as mine is the 2016 2nd gen version and the 3rd gen came out last June) work for me by doing the things I need to do in this useless eating, failed artist life?

Oh boy does she go!

I gave the MacBook a trial run–having left my MBA at home during recent travels. Between visits to Denmark and the bewilderment of galavanting in a north European forest that had markings for graves from as far back as 700AD, I spent a few hours each day typing on this new device. By-the-buy, my wife bought the MacBook in late fall of 2016. Being the iOS obsessed user she is, though, she rarely used it. When she finally replaced her go-to device, an iPad Air 2 with a new iPad Pro about two months ago, I don’t think she ever even looked at the MacBook anymore. It was relegated to sitting on a gadget shelf in my room. And, don’t you know, dear worst-reader, it was talking to me. It was looking at me–especially when I was using my MacBook Air or my Mac Pro. It said: Come on dude. You don’t love those outdated things. You love me.

For a while I was able to resist. But we traveled to my beloved Homeland in late October and once again, for about two weeks, I left my cumbersome MacBook Air at home. Can you believe I’m calling a 2015 MacBook Air cumbersome? When we returned to the old country, around mid November, I found myself reaching for the MacBook instead of my MBA. A few days ago I finally gave in.

Twelve inch joy and that’s what she said.

There is something about this device that just fits. For one, I love the 12″ inch form factor. The fact that it’s so light doesn’t hurt either. Of course, I never thought I’d refer to my old MacBook Air as cumbersome–but I’ve already said that. The chassis actually makes this machine feel higher quality than my MBA. Compared to the MBA, the MacBook is stiffer and feels robust. In my humble opinion, when it comes to the amount of typing I do, although it’s a bit louder when I type, it even types better than my MBA. More on that in a sec. And by-the-buy, so far the solution to loud typing on this thing is to keep your fingernails trim.

That Damn Keyboard.

Would you believe I missed typing on this machine during the few months I wasn’t using it in the last half-year? From the day the new MacBook came out, introducing a new-fangled keyboard, trackpad and screen, I was totally skeptical about what Apple had done. I mean, come on. Someone at Apple actually came with that touch-bar thing on the MacBook Pros. A touch bar on a device that wants a touch screen? Hello!

Anywho. My first thoughts were: There is so little movement from the keys. Then, the more and more I used it, it turns out that something was missing when I wasn’t using it. And you have to understand, dear worst-reader. I’m an old school typist. Other than having too many modern tech gadgets, I have a small collection of old mechanical typewriters. Trust me when I say, I know typing. The keyboard on the MacBook is for typing. All you have to do is type softer. And that’s not a bad thing.

There’s one more thing that makes this new keyboard rock. As mentioned, I really like the 12″ form factor of this device–especially how Apple made everything fit perfectly. One of the faults of the MBA keyboard is that there’s too much chassis around it, especially below it. That means, if/when I’m typing I have to remove my Apple Watch because the watch-band gets in the way of the chassis. Also, the edges of the MBA are sharp enough to irritate skin. The MacBook, on the other hand, just fits my hands/fingers better. How they fit this keyboard into the chassis is actually more impressive than how they fit the retina screen.

But the screen is the cream!

Screen Shot 2017-12-20 at 06.44.25

The “retina” display is more than a brilliant and versatile screen. The thing that makes it special is how I can adjust it–for writing/typing. What I mean by “adjust” is more than changing screen real-estate and pixels. Keep in mind, I’m getting to be an old guy. My eyes are almost shot (as in I can’t see without coke bottle glasses anymore). In fact, my eyes are so bad, if I were alive during the bronze age, I probably would believe in the mysticism of religion, too. Yeah, that’s what is wrong with the blind imagination of the men who snaked religion into humanity because they couldn’t see the trickery of things around them like… walking on water or how someone snuck in the wine to replace the water! But I digress.

The most important thing you can do with adjusting the MacBook screen is not only change the size of it but also when you do change it, it doesn’t turn the text into a bunch of ugly pixelated letters. Nomatter what size the display is, the text is sharp and crystal clear. I cannot tell you, dear worst-reader, how significant that is for me.

Fancy Trackpad.

I was never and probably never will be a trackpad fan. I’m still using a wired mouse on my cheese-grater 2010 Mac Pro. When I work with my MBA on my desk I usually use a wired mouse with it, too. Remember the red dot pointer device on Thinkpads? They were/are the best pointer solution other than a mouse–ever. I had a Thinkpad back in the day when The System let me work for the man. Speaking of Thinkpads, if/when I finally give up on Apple/Mac–and I believe that day is coming as the company keeps going down this path of being an iOS centric organisation–I’m getting a Thinkpad and installing Linux on it. But again–I digress.

Moving a finger across a small slab of glass (or in some cases textured plastic) and that translating into a pointer on your screen is the worst tech innovation ever. With that in mind, is the GUI (graphical user interface) an idea that’s reached its end? Personally, with the advent of AI (artificial intelligence), I think it is high-time to re-think the personal computing GUI. I, for one, would love having a command-line interface but with a voice activated AI that allows me to control the entire machine.

  • “Open” this or “Close” that.
  • “Put the last file I was working on in the trash, please.”
  • “Play that song I was listening streaming last night…”
  • “Open file so-n-so, please.” Etc.

The trick being to finally get rid of the graphical user interface. Really. GUI sucks. CLI rules. (If only I were the coder I wish I were.)

One last thing about trackpads. The thing I hate most about the trackpad on my MBA is how only parts of it are useful for certain tasks. The top of it acted different than the bottom. The bottom sometimes got in the way if I my hands were moving around wild and free. In fact, I would often take my eyes off my work (the screen) to make sure I was placing my finger in the right place so I could command my machine. Switching between left and right fingers didn’t help matters either. Luckily the MacBook’s new trackpad is finally approaching what I consider to be usability simply because all parts of it work equally. Although I haven’t found much use yet for “force touch”, it does seem like a logical and much needed addition to trackpad technology.

Going places with the low-end.

about mac screenshot

Compared to 2015 MacBook Air (with i7 CPU), the low-end M3 processor of the MacBook is impressive. Switching between desktops spaces and full screen apps is faster on the newer machine. When I’m working I usually have several apps open, each occupying a desktop space. I have to move between them all regularly. There is no delay in screen redraw or app performance. Surprisingly there is some performance issues with my MBA. Manipulating screenshots from the interwebnets or pics from my iPhone that are transferred using AirDrop and adjusting their size or converting formats all happen instantly on the new MacBook. If I take a break from writing and go to youtube or stream media from my home server, it all happens in the blink of an eye. Now that’s to say that for other tasks (video and more intense picture manipulation) the MBA with its heavier CPU would be better. But there is no denying that the MacBook–for a low-end device–is very impressive.

The good, the bad, the über-cheap and ugly.

IMG_3620

The worst part of this MacBook is the camera. For reasons probably better not made public, Apple decided to put a ten year old (480p) camera in this laptop. My MBA has a great camera in it. The pic above, btw, is the same ten year old camera that’s in the MacBook. I used to love that old camera when it worked on my Mac Pro–until Mavericks broke it. But get this. Even though the video of the iSight camera was $hit, I continued using it for its great microphone. But then El Capitan broke that. Actually, what I think broke was firewire. (But that’s a whole different post.) For me, video is just not a big deal. And when I FaceTime with people, it’s more than good enough–except in low light. Audio is somewhat more important to me and the twin microphones of the MacBook seem to work great. To me, the digital world is all about tools for worst-writing, typing, researching $hit on the interwebets, etc. and this machine does it better than any Mac I’ve ever used.

One I/O?

As far as hooking $hit up to this new MacBook, I don’t care about that either. The only thing I miss is the opportunity to attach an ethernet cable. But I’m starting to break away from that, too. Even though I have a USB-C dongle that gives me 3x USB 3.0, 1x MicroSD and 1x HDMI out, I really am good with the single port. Eventually I plan to utilise the port to tote around a battery, taking advantage of USB-C charging capability. Of course, I probably wouldn’t say any of this if this were my only machine. But I’m practically drowning in tech krapp at this point so I can’t judge whether I need more I/O. So far, traveling with it, typing with it, sleeping with it, hoarding it, the one I/O is not an issue. In fact, the only thing missing from this gluttonous life of mine is that I can’t own the newest stuff yesterday.

In worst-conclusion.

I’m digging the 12″ MacBook and for the future, unless something changes everything, like my wife gets really pissed at me for confiscating it or she breaks her new iPad, it’s gonna be my daily (typing) driver.

Rant on.

-T

Roadkill And Other Forms Of Scaring Ausländer Out Of Germania

The horse in the pic above literally asked me, albeit in German, to leave his country. The fish in the moat around some #eurowasteland baroque castle said nothing. The flying rat reminded me of the story I’m about to tell. And the headless mouse reminded me of all those in my beloved #americant that got a once great country to where it is today.

But I digress.

On the grave of someone’s mother, I swear this happened. I was walking around some Germanic uppity village one day many years ago. In fact, it was one of them uppity über-villages. You know the type. The type where the past still lives in the form of protected inherited wealth. Indeed. In my beloved #americant this type of village is called an old money town. In America, if you look at these towns closely, you can still see the slaves. In Germania, on the other hand, these towns are about something else. In fact, you could put street signs up around these towns that read: they kicked our a$$ in a war but our kids got to inherit the loot. Ha. Ha. Ha.

Anywho.

I’m walking down a sidewalk with Beckett, the killer pug,  in this über-village and I hear this strange muzzled explosive sound. Within seconds of the sound a flying rat falls out of the sky and lands right in front of me. My useless dog begins to sniff at it. For those not in the know, flying rats are pigeons and useless dogs are pugs.

Moving on.

This flying rat had a huge hole in the middle of its chest. It was at that moment I associated the muzzled sound with a powerful air rifle. I proceeded to look around the old money neighbourhood but all I saw were rows and rows, streets and more streets of #eurowasteland über-villas that looked like they were part of a well fortified ghost town–with too much money at Deutsche Bank. Taking a closer look at the dead pigeon, I noticed that there was no blood around its rather large chest wound. That meant the shooter had executed a clean shot, instantly stopping the heart of the animal as the projectile concurrently emptied out all its inner organs. I looked around to see if those organs had fallen somewhere near by. But I couldn’t triangulate the dead flying rats course. Still. Its inner organs had to be somewhere. If only I had something other than a useless pug as a pet. Have you ever seen, looked closely at, the nose of a pug, dear worst-reader? It is a useless pet for a reason. But let’s not dwindle on that.

“Find the organs, Beckett!” I yelled. But he just stood there on all fours looking between me and the flying rat and, perhaps, considering, if he was next (to be shot).

Before I could contemplate further this worthless life situation, a man came running down the sidewalk of the street. Aghast! It was an old German. In fact, he was old enough to be one of the enemy. Or maybe not. Indeed. Most likely he was born during or directly after the great war. Nomatter. According to how was running, he was in great shape.

“I say old, boy. Do you remember me,” the old man asked me in English.

It was then I remembered him. We had met twice before while I walked my dog and I only recognised him because of the earring he wore on his right ear.

“How do you like my old dungarees,” he asked. “I got them from an American Navy boy stationed in Kiel when I was there as a student. “Can you believe it, after fifty years I still fit in them.”

He waved his hands in the air gesticulating how proud he was of his figure.

“And don’t worry about that, old boy. I’ll take it.”

He bent over and grabbed the dead flying rat, cupping its carcass in his hands.

“I have to be off now, old boy. My oven is reaching temperature and it takes forever to get rid of all the feathers.”

I watched him run back the way he came. He entered a gated villa down the street and I could hear the metal gates clanging as he locked the door behind him. I looked back down the sidewalk and once again was astonished the dead flying rat left not one speck of blood. I wondered what kind of air rifle could do such destruction.

-end-

Rant on.

-T

 

 

Men With Combs Not Comb-Overs

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Even when I had hair I never used a comb. For me it was a brush all the way. Is that why I’m baldy now? Nomatter.

Let’s worst-discourse about #emails once again, shall we. It was not long ago when emails were the thang. Or have you forgotten about Hillary’s emails already? So much time, effort and worst-words were used to get Hillary and her emails. In the end, no one got her emails. Instead, we got president über stupid. But I’m not complaining, dear worst-reader. My beloved and missed former federalist compatriots do honestly deserve what they received in the last election. I mean, come on. All these years of republican rule and they still aren’t able to see through the cause of all the damage? (That’s right. All these years of repub rule. Or am I the only one to recognise 1) a presidents only legislation power is the veto and 2) since Reagan, other than a few Dem stints, the congress, i.e. the legislature, has been majority repub.) And since I jumped the $hitshow ship so many years ago, all I can do now is whisper my sympathy for all those dumbed-down back home. And then, maybe, post something that is but yet another wasted opinion. So if you’re curious as to why I do this, well, it goes something like this:

Ha-Ha Ha Ha-Ha Ha Ha-Ha Ha Ha-Ha Ha-Ha Heeeee Hawww.

Seriously. I’m laughing my a$$ off. Considering that #Trump was/is supposed to drain the swamp, it’s no surprise that the exact opposite has taken place. Trump’s doings have done nothing but enhance the swamp and, on top of that, turned all irrational, i.e. non-thinking females (gold diggers?) into ITS-ALL-PINK-ON-THE-INSIDE monsters because, well, and I’m almost sorry to have to say this, their pussies aren’t holly and maybe they should think twice about using it to get what they want out of this suck-a$$ life and thereby giving the rest of the world Trump.  But I digress.

The only good thing that will come of the simple-minded fact that a special government prosecutor has come across thousands upon thousands of emails to help in his quest to bring down president stupid, is that at least a man with a real head of hair will be doing it. With that mind, may real men with great hair and real men without great hair bring down unreal men who fake everything anyways.

Good luck suckers.

Rant on.

Link that motivated this post:

How To Fix Something That Has To Be Broken? #Gerrymandering #NetNeutrality

As a non-chess player, I’m thinking of moves in the future. What moves, you ask, dear worst-reader? Well, I’m thinking of how that $hitkicker politician in Alabama lost his bid to wear a (his) stupid hat in the United Mistakes Senate. You know, dear worst-reader, he wasn’t supposed to lose. And the reason he wasn’t supposed to lose was because stupid white men have done a number on that state’s districts in recent years that favours… You guessed it: stupid white men forevermore. But the $hitkicker lost. Now get this. I know a rocket scientist. During a political discussion I mentioned the problem of gerrymandering to the rock scientist. Guess what the rocket scientist said after hearing that word.

“What’s gerrymandering?”

I swear, dear worst-reader. Not only am I a non-chess player but I’m also not educated. At least I’m not educated like a rocket scientist would be / is. Yet, I’ve known all about gerrymandering since I was a tall grasshopper. By-the-buy, as educated as rocket scientists are–just like most pions and automatons that work in corporations and mix up the concept of behaviour with work–the world now dysfunctions because rocket-scientist-like people rule it. And they don’t even know what gerrymandering is. No wonder you’re fcuked.

Back to future moves.

The problem that all the nitwits and corporate automatons that either directly or indirectly support $shitkickers will have in the future is the task of reversing all the things that have been (politically) done already that supports and enables $hitkickers. Is recent election in Alabama a bright light of hope that perhaps there can be a reversal (of all the $hitkicker political cheating)? Again. According to how the $hitkickers gerrymandered Alabama’s congressional districts, the head $hitkicker should have won. But he didn’t. Thank goodness, eh.

And so. Big round of applause for non $hitkickers in the state of Alabama. You guys pulled off a grand win. Now the only problem is, how to re-redistrict not only Alabama but all of the united mistakes of #americant.

By-the-buy, before you get too confused (if you’re one of them rocket scientist $hitkickers), there is a connection to gerrymandering and what happened with the FCC and its recent repeal of #NetNeutrality. Go figure.

Rant on.

-T

Links that motivated this post:

Adjusted For Inflation, We’re Back To Feudal Days Galore. Congratulate Yourself.

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List of most valuable corporations in the world. Source of screenshot: see link below.

What’s missing from this post, and from the pic above, is what it’s being compared to. Indeed. According the article where I stole the pic above, there was once a single company (adjusted for inflation) that was as big as all of these companies put together. That company? The Dutch East India Company. Since that company was so long ago and, also, because it was part of the greed show that culminated in krapp like slave-trading, I figured there’s no need for worst-moi to mess with it in this worst-post. I mean, we’ve moved on, right dear worst-reader? We’re all in the NOW. Right? And so. The most shocking thing about the information provided by pic above is that, other than Tesla and one pharma company, there’s only banking and tech. And all this because #americants are incapable of recognising how they’ve ruined the whole show because (their) greed is limitless and their politics are stupid-galore.

Rant on.

-T

Link that motivated this post:

Twenty Four Hours A Difference Make

Actually, dear worst-reader, it’s not quite 24 hours. The snow-pic I took yesterday afternoon. The rain pic I took before noon today. Yesterday’s snow storm was a sight to see–if you live in this region of wet-weather-torn Germania. It will snow every once-a-once here and the snow will be gone by the next day, but what makes this different is the amount of snow that fell yesterday. Within half a day there was at least six inches of snow in front my abode. Needless to say it was a wet journey getting to the same spot to take the same picture for comparison. Talk about a soaked area. It was like walking on water.

Rant on.

-T

Interwebnet Uglies & Co.

facebook street advert in germany
This is a pic I took the other night of a street advert.

Ok. Maybe I’m over doing it. It’s just that, I really thought, for years and years, that The Ineterwebnets was something beautiful. The reality is, it’s something ugly. Very ugly. Of course, it’s not ugly because it reveals the worst of humanity. No. It’s ugly because the cult of the entrepreneur (#americant) have found so many ways to turn something beautiful into something ugly. Perhaps that’s always what happens when something that was/is meant to be decentralised is then forced in to being centralised. Which means we’re probably not only in a time of greed run amok but also of ugly run amok. Can you say: #Trump? Or. If it works with industries like Hollywood (Harvey Weinstein & Co.) why shouldn’t it then work with technology?

Enter Facebook & Co. (Co. = social media.) Now don’t get me wrong. If FB or social media floats your boat, sail on. But that doesn’t alleviate the reality that FB is part of what has turned The Interwebnets into The Uglies. And if you don’t believe me, give the above pic a good look.

Here’s worst-writer’s translation to assist those who don’t speak the language of the last bastion of communism in the west, i.e. German:

  • Top text: “Facebook has no real daily use for me.”
  • Middle text: “Get really useful recommendations from friends that know what they’re doing.”
  • Bottom text: “Make Facebook your Facebook.” (Italic mine.)

Note on translation: Although I have a FB account (and a Twitter account) and use the service to follow certain people, I don’t actively use it so I’m probably a bit out of the loop of what’s going on first hand with FB. Above the middle text is a red and white info-bubble icon with a star in it. I have no idear what this icon means. Nor am I interested in researching it to find out. Gee, am I missing (in translation) any redeeming quality from this advert because of that info-bubble?

I had to ask my German better-half what this advert is about. She said it’s about FB’s bad rep in Germany. She added that FB has had trouble getting users because of the Snowden revelations. Ok, I thought. And then added in the back of my mind: if she (the German) says so.

What is clear to me in the advert is that FB, either with or without knowing it, is revealing the thing that is not only inherently wrong with what it does but also that it’s partaken in making something ugly that is or was once beautiful.

Or maybe I’m just way off base and can’t really articulate what I want to worst-say.

Who cares.

Rant on.

-T

 

How The #neweconomy Became The #oldeconomy And #Apple #Sucks

apple sucks.jpg

Who loves being forced to buy new technology? I mean, that’s really what’s happening these days, or? If hardware manufactures somehow acted responsibly, there would then be no reason that the investment consume-to-survivors make couldn’t last longer. Or are the engineers that make everything smaller and thinner really not that good after-all? Oh wait. We’re living in monopoly times. And. Apple just made my Mac Mini obsolete. And. Apple also made it more difficult for me to update some software that I’ve been using. And while I’m on the subject… iPhones and the corporate obsoletism that’s behind them, really sucks. Yea. Apple sucks!

After a year and a half of use, my iPhone 6s only works for about four hours a day before I have to put it on a charger. To counter this engineering #neweconomy wonder, a few months ago I splurged for an external battery case so I could forget about charging all the time. Luckily the case works really well. On the other hand, because of the case, my once gorgeous iPhone is now über-ugly, ridiculously heavy and I have to use an adapter for the headphone jack. But I’m not even complaining. Reason? I’ve been able to extend the life of my iPhone; I’ve been able to extend my investment. Ain’t that great? More importantly, this extension means I don’t have to dish out stupid-money to corporations that are already undeservedly rich because they can avoid paying taxes. And so. If I’m lucky, my technology investment (iPhone 6s) has somewhere between six months and year left in it. The reason for that has nothing to do with the battery. And so…

The problem was hardware. The problem is software. Get this bull$hit quote from one of the undeservedly rich a$$holes from richer-than-god corporation:

“I’ve always been fascinated by these products that are more general purpose. What I think is remarkable about the iPhone X is that its functionality is so determined by software. And because of the fluid nature of software, this product is going to change and evolve. In 12 months’ time, this object will be able to do things that it can’t now. I think that is extraordinary. I think we will look back on it and see it as a very significant point in terms of the products we have been developing. So while I’m completely seduced by the coherence and simplicity and how easy it is to comprehend something like the first iPod, I am quite honestly more fascinated and intrigued by an object that changes its function profoundly and evolves. That is rare. That didn’t happen 50 years ago.”

Let’s break this quote down, shall we. Below the underscored text including worstwriter’s interpretation of greed mongering corporatists’ subtext.

  • functionality is determined by software
    • This will allow us to cheat customers even more than we cheat them now
  • fluid nature of software
    • fluid = 100% control
  • change and evolve
    • profit dictation and monopolised market equals obsoletism at the flip of a switch
  • I think we will look back on it and see it as a very significant point in terms of the products we have been developing
    • There is no ceiling to what we can charge for our products (first example is the iPhone X)
  • I’m completely seduced by the coherence and simplicity and how easy it is to comprehend something like the first iPod
    • Never question progress in the name of unsubstantiated profits in a monopolised market that is determined by arbitrary costs we pass on to customers in the name of that progress
  • object that changes its function profoundly and evolves. That is rare. That didn’t happen 50 years ago
    • That because 50 years ago there was competition and corporate behaviourists with college educations in Stupid hadn’t yet realised the easy profits from the verticalisation of industries, i.e. politically supported monopolies

But I’m probably way off subject. What I really wanted to worst-write about today, dear worst-reader, was the idear that Apple’s App Store, along with the bull$hit spewed by Jony Ive, is yet another example of how the new economy has been defeated by the old economy (i.e. Goliath hath slain David). And not only has it been defeated but the new economy is now becoming the old economy. In the pic above, we see that software developers are locked into some kind of control room regarding their creations. A simple software that a few people put together must adhere to preposterous rules regarding how they run their business simply because they sell their creation through a “store” controlled by a monopolist entity. That this is legal, is beyond me. But then again, we are living in greed-times. Greed is good, right #americant?

I have never been so motivated to trash all this tech krapp. Indeed. Looks like this text will be typed on the last Apple Mac that I ever buy. Of course, I’m stuck with the iPhone for a while. But that’s only because I’ve been too lazy to adopt “smartphones” the way I adopted (real) computers. But I don’t think it will take me as long with smartphones. Luckily I was able to see through the “smart” in phones a long time ago. And with that…

But I digress.

Rant on.

-T

Link that motivated this post:

Not A Worst #Brunch

brunch 03122017
Typical #eurowasteland Brunch for worst-writer once or thrice a year. Note that my champagne glass is empty. Indeed. On the wagon, baby.

Good food, good conversation and worst-writer? Good idear or bad idear? I guess that’s what it’s all about in these worst-times, or, dear worst-reader? Indeed. Good food! Of course, we can’t let such an opportunity pass without a bit of ranting. Attendees of this Bruch: A Russian, a Serb, an American and a German. And now. Worst-words of the day while discussing the uselessness in this world of Germany and its politics after, of course, discussing the ramifications of whether or not it was/is a good idear for #eurowasteland to have pseudo trials run by so-called “neutral jurists” and thereby attempting, out of some form of abstract moral-code, in bringing war criminals to justice from the Yugoslav Wars?

“Dude, Germany is nothing more than a pseudo colony of the US but with a strange language. So it doesn’t matter what it wants. Nothing it does happens unless the fcuking CIA makes it happen. Except, maybe, redesigning a VW. Fcuk Germany.”

Rant on.

-T

Worst Tweet # 4 Thousand So-n-So

Since the 80s has been living off of consume-to-survive nothingness, meritlessness and the rule of mindless, college grad corporate #Automatons run amok. Understanding how the old economy so easily defeated the new economy in the 90s is also something worth considering. Then there’re the #warmongering #WarsofChoice of this new millennium. And now you’re worried about more of the same? #TaxScamBill? #LandoftheFreetobeStupid Good luck suckers. -T