Tyre vs Tire Or Summer vs Winter

Pics as follows:

  • 2017 Mini Clubman jacked-up for tyre change
  • Michelin CrossCountry all-weather tyres; the ones with the sticker on the top tire
  • Bridgestone “Run-Flats” with around 5000km on them after being removed and now in my basement on top of a flat/folded moving box ready for sale or whatever else their fate has in store (size 225/45/R17)

First, dear worst-reader, for worst-moi, after all these years living within the Germania  tribe of #Eurowasteland, it’s “tyre” and not “tire.” Coming from an American expat that may not sound like much to you but according to (expat) folklore it is an indication of having gone native. Thank you for letting me get that out of the way.

I can’t remember ever considering changing from summer tyres to winter tyres while living in my beloved & missed #Americant where I owned three cars (before expating). Usually the vehicle you consumed determined whether or not you had season oriented tyres. Keep in mind that I grew up on the mid-Atlantic coast, which has a fairly mild climate. Although we had snow once or twice a year and ice more than that, the costly idear of actually changing tyres for seasons…? Whaaaaaaa? I mean, get this. #Americant is a country that still allows krappy, cheap retreads. Ever wonder why #Americant highways are so polluted with exploded tyre rubber? Ever get caught on a motorcycle riding behind a tractor-trailer going sixty-five mph and one of its retreads explodes? Seriously. Retreads shouldn’t be allowed on public roads. Nomatter. I’m waaaaay off subject.

I’ve been tickled, don’t you know, with our new Mini Clubman. In fact, every time I get in it and take off, I can’t help but say to myself: wow, this is a great little car. We’ve put a bit more than three thousand kilometres on it so far (we bought it with two thousand kilometres). And although we’re pleased with it, there is still one major thing left to do. As the lawmaking goes in #Eurowasteland, winter tyres are mandatory now. And although it’s a bit early to worry about snow season, we’re about to embark on a trip to Croatia with our big-little Mini. That means we’ll be crossing the Alps in Austria in late September. I know. I know. I’m sure it won’t snow then, plus, the summer tyres will be fine in Croatia but… I’ve got to get winter tyres anyway. How ’bout doing so now and thereby killing two birds with one stone?

Did you know, dear worst-reader, Germans are brake-drivers. That’s is, they drive their fancy, leased, German engineered and sometimes über high-powered cars with their brakes. Unfortunately, with the current state of Autobahns, there isn’t much choice to drive fast anymore because you’re constantly driving through construction. The good news is, because of the enormous cost of driving a car here, people are going with smaller, less powerful, less heavy and less super fast vehicles. That means, people don’t need to change tyres all year round–if they go with so-called all-weather tyres–which are nothing more than detoxed (if you will) winter tyres. Hence the two birds I’m gonna get with one stone, don’t you know.

Keep in mind, this isn’t a review of tyre brands. Even though I picked the Michelin brand, I could have easily gone with Goodyear or Bridgestone or Continental, etc. The only thing that was important to me was to get a major branded tyre. There are a lot of tyres out there to choose from. But I will never forget changing from a cheap brand of tyres to a major brand a few years back and boy was there a difference. That said, the price difference between major brand to non-major brand isn’t enough to sway my prejudice to the cheaper tyre. So Michelin it is. But first a few thoughts on the run-flats.

The Mini came with Bridgestone “Turanza” summer run-flats (RF). Some years ago, I had a run-in with run-flats on a drive from Stuttgart to Munich. Half way through the drive the onboard computer of the Mercedes notified me I had a flat. At a rest top I checked the tyre. It didn’t look flat to me. At the time I had not idear what RF tyres were. So I got back in the car and drove the remaining distance to Munich. When I gave the car to the leasing company to deal with the “flat tyre” notification they asked how long I had driven on the flat. “What flat,” I said. The guy explained the RF concept to me–all the while holding back any (deserved?) ridicule of stupid American drivers. The only problem is, I was stuck with that car for a while and it needed a new tyre–NOW. The guy said it would take three weeks to get the same brand tyre. Whaaaaaa? I had to drive two days later from Munich to Köln–with that car. “No problem,” the guy said. So he replaced the tyre within twenty-four hours with another sub-brand RF tyre.

Go ahead, dear worst-reader. Call me a stickler. I’m spoiled. I want better. With that in mind, I don’t care what you think (of me). So get this: I can’t stand the idear of driving a four hundred horsepower Mercedes Benz on the fcuking German Autobahn for hour after hour and that vehicle not being in tip-top performance condition. Running three Continental branded RF tyres with one no-name RF tyre–that had a totally different tread profile, as well–just pissed me off. But of course I went with it. I was working for the man. I could only bitch (rant) at the world so much. Did the Mercedes drive differently? Of course it didn’t. Did it look different? Well, yeah, kinda, on account the profile of the one tyre was different. But I don’t care. In fact, I might even tolerate two different brands front and rear but… three brands to one? No. No. No. (Talk about provoking my tourettes.)

Anywho. RF tyres cannot be repaired if they’re punctured. They have to be replaced. That means, if I don’t have to, I don’t want to be in the predicament again where I have to wait (for weeks) for a tyre maker to deliver me the right tyre or have to then choose between buying a brand new tyre that doesn’t fit to the other three. But there’s one other thing.  RF tyres are extremely uncomfortable–even with the proper suspension. You see, RF tyres have something akin to metal lining in their walls. That’s how you can drive on them if they go “flat”. The metal lining prevents the tyre from buckling completely so you can continue (at limited speed, of course) without the wheel rims ruining everything. But then… Those metal walls, when filled with air, are as hard as rock.

The Mini Clubman is pretty bumpy and unnecessarily uncomfortable with the RF summer tyres it was delivered with. Also, the Mini is far from being a performance vehicle. The Bridgestone tyres are simply too much tyre for this car. With that in mind, the significance of “performance” only plays a role, IMHO, with vehicles that can also deliver that performance. By-the-buy, don’t get me wrong, I’ve since learned that the BMW 1.5litre, three cylinder turbo-charged power plant is a lot stronger than I thought it would be! But the Mini still does not perform in a way that requires anything more than solid, well built, good running tyres. Although I’ve only gone a few kilometres with the new Michelins, I have already noticed how much more comfortable the Mini is now. And. Since the tires are all-weather, I definitely killed those two birds.

-Rant on

T

PS Did you catch that last expat mis-spelling?

Missing The Hitch

“Given this overwhelming tendency to stupidity and selfishness in myself and among our species, it is somewhat surprising to find the light of reason penetrating at all. The brilliant Schiller was wrong in his “Joan of Arc” when he said that “against stupidity the gods themselves contend in vain.” It is actually by means of the gods that we make our stupidity and gullibility into something ineffable.” -God Is Not Great, Christopher Hitchens

-Rant on

T

Everything Is A Joke Until It Isn’t

Kundera The Joke cover.JPG

Subtitle: Thoughts on re-read of Milan Kundera’s The Joke (the 1982 English translation)

“Optimism is the opium of the people! A healthy atmosphere stinks of stupidity! Long live Trotsky!” -from The Joke by Milan Kundera

According to Ludvik the quote above is from a postcard he sent to woman of interest as a joke. I suppose when written to a person while in the midst of love-lust confusion and during the striving days of the Soviet Unions’ new-beginnings in early 1960s Czechoslovakia, Milan Kundera considers the twisting of Marx’s Religion is the opium of the people more than just a joke. But what can one do if/when the thing you are really joking about is a system that depends on the control of not just words written but also of words thought?

As I ride it gayly and march ambiguously into the twilight of western democracy’s funny-train (the #Trump-era), I’m often wondering if I’ll see the day when the same type of total control (totalitarianism) that Kundera deals with, I’ll also have to deal with. Considering how things have turned out since 1991 and the fall of the Soviet Union, I also wonder if the whole socialist experiment was just one big joke played on humanity by some dirtbag she-goddess with a grudge–that stems back tens of thousands of years because of how males grabbed females by the HAIR and dragged them into caves. You know, as in, grab ’em by the… But I digress.

“You used to say that socialism sprouted from the soil of European rationalism and skepticism, a soil both nonreligious and anti-religious, and that it is otherwise inconceivable. But can you seriously maintain that it is impossible to build a socialist society without faith in the supremacy of matter? Do you really think that people who believe in God are incapable of nationalising factories?” -from The Joke by Milan Kundera

Then again, of the political and economic systems alive & kicking in the world today, there really is only one that has past the test of (recent) time. If you’re thinking Capitalism is that system, dear worst-reader, you’d better think again. Socialism is kicking butt right now. From both sides of China’s Great Wall to Vladimir Putin’s total ownership of Red Square to the various interpretations of Socialism in the vastness of #Eurowasteland’s epic confusion, Socialism is way ahead of #Americant… Sorry. Way ahead of Capitalism.

“‘As Communists we are responsible for everything that is going on here.’ I nearly laughed in his face. Responsibility was unthinkable without freedom, I told him. He said he felt free enough to act like a Communist and that he had to prove, would prove himself a Communist. His jaw trembled as he spoke. Today, years later, I can still remember it clearly, but now I realise that Alexej was not much more than twenty at the time, a child, an adolescent, and his destiny hung on him like the clothes of a giant on a little boy.” -from The Joke by Milan Kundera

In worst-short, Capitalism in its current iteration is nothing but a reimagining of Feudalism. Feudalism was a system of lords and serfs, including inbred monarchs. What lead to Feudalism was Slavery. Slavery had the longest run of the three. Slavery goes back to Egypt, don’t you know. It was also used in Ancient Greece, Rome and, of course, it was used to build my beloved & missed #Americant. But then $hit started to hit the fan as that whole Enlightenment thing took hold after the 16th century. Btw, I will always admire the French for one-upping the US when it comes to social and political revolutions derived out of human oppression. Indeed. The French nailed it. (Well, they nailed it in the revolution but fcuked it up in the counter-revolution.)

“Rationalist skepticism has been eating away at Christianity for two millennia now. Eating away at it without destroying it. But Communist theory, its own creation, it will destroy within a few decades.” -from The Joke by Milan Kundera

The thing to keep in mind when worst-writer says that Socialism is currently outlasting, winning, kicking the a$$ of capitalism, is the state of things in the strongest Capitalist strongholds, the US and the UK. Is it any concern to anyone how small these remaining Capitalist nation-states are? Or should one consider how large China is? So even if my claim here is kinda out of whack, the fact remains, China is on the verge of over taking #Americant as the largest economy in the world–and it is far from being a Capitalist nation. Will we someday soon consider Capitalist nations and their extreme isolation a joke? Think about that worst-thought.

“Nobody liked people who relied on pull.” -from The Joke by Milan Kundera

It’s all a joke. Seriously. The state of things in the Capitalist West is a fcuking joke and it can only be comparable to the fcuking joke of the former Soviet Union (and its failure) and to the success of China along with a few places in #Eurowasteland. (I’ve always said that Germany is the last Communist State in the West.) And the thing about a joke is sometimes you’re in on it and other times it’s in on you. I mean, come on. Crooked, lock-her-up #Hillary won something like four million more votes than #Trump and she wouldn’t have done much to counter the chilling effects of the post FDR years where Capitalism has pretty much run amok. Is that not a joke? The Capitalist democracy joke? Is the manipulation of #Americant’s electoral college combined with bailing out banks that act like loan sharks the joke teller? Jokes galore, dear worst-reader. An audience of joke lovers.

Milan Kundera’s idear of the perfect joke: Helena, one of Ludvik’s lovers, attempts suicide by stealing pills from a young man. It turns out the pills are laxatives hidden in a prescription jar of pain killers. While in a panic and trying to save her, she is found hysterical sitting on toilet.

The Joke was Kundera’s first book. Although I started reading it years ago, I never got around to finishing it. Having read three others (Laughable Loves, The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Immortality), I knew that I would eventually get around to this one again as it waited patiently for me in my Kundera collection. After picking it up the other day and having a first sitting with it, I realised that I had actually read more than I initially remembered. All the markings, underlines, etc., that I had made so many years ago woke my memory of having read through it one night while gloriously penetrating a bimbo I met in Amsterdam. Yeah, Dankyavel was her name. I would fcuk her for a bit and while in my refractory period I’d read from this book. We’d then fcuk some more and with each subsequent fcuk I’d need a longer refractory period where I could read more. Hence I feel safe considering this a re-read. Btw, the only thing I miss from youth is cumming in or on or around a woman smarter than me ten times a day.

“Pray tell, dear friend, Why doth this honest groom desire to take this honest maid to wife? Is’t for the flower or the fruit?” -from The Joke by Milan Kundera

Most of The Joke is a joy to read. But I can understand why some might consider Kundera’s narrative style a bit cumbersome. (At least that’s what my wife says.) To me, Kundera is an author that has unlimited creative prowess, he maintains a thread that permeates all his work (which I really dig), and his word sculpting never ceases to amaze. But the thing that always brings me back to Kundera–let’s say as a reference source, especially in times of trouble where Mother Mary doesn’t come to me–is the fact that I have always been touched by his exasperations regarding Stalinism. Along with Vaclav Havel, Kundera introduced me to a new reality of political thought. The fact that Kundera is able to combine (his) musings about love, passion and desire from the POV of political oppression, makes his work even more interesting. (Btw, that’s the thread that permeates.)

When I first started reading Kundera, back in the early 90s, capitalist and/or economic oppression hadn’t shown its #Trump face yet. In other words, Reaganomics hadn’t made the full turn to ugly (Deplorables) yet. The Soviet Union was in free-fall but the former oppressed were suddenly free to buy jeans, Marlboro reds, travel, etc. Yet the whole time I couldn’t help but feel that the oppression of the Soviet Union wasn’t isolated nor was it bound by politics. Oppression is oppression, eh. As we all now know, the only thing the peoples of the Soviet Union really wanted was jeans, Marlboro reds and…. blah, blah, blah. What was once authoritarian oppression has now become economic oppression–the difference between the two being jeans, Marlboro reds, blah, blah, blah.

My first read of Kundera was The Unbearable Lightness of Being and it was like being struck by lightening. From the get-go, Tomas became my secret hero. His heroism, btw, has nothing to do with his fight against the Soviet-Man. No. Tomas was about love and the conquest of love and then eventually losing yourself in love. Tomas, to me, was the kind of lover I sincerely wanted to be. Was I ever able to find my Tereza or my Sabina? Of course not–although I did enjoy trying (to find her.) But until the power, the anger and the need to fcuk finally subsided (resulting in the true cute ugliness of feminine payback aka marriage), all I ever wanted was to fcuk like Tomas. The real beauty of Kundera’s The Joke is that Ludvik is Tomas’ predecessor, if not Tomas’ character in spirit. It’s almost like reading Tomas in a beta version.

“Yes, suddenly I saw it all clearly: most people willingly deceive themselves with a doubly false faith; they believe in eternal memory (of men, things, deeds, peoples) and in rectification (of deeds, errors, sins, injustice). Both are sham. The truth lies at the opposite end of the scale: everything will be forgotten and nothing will be rectified. All rectification (both vengeance and forgiveness) will be taken over by oblivion. No one will rectify wrongs; all wrongs will be forgotten.” -from The Joke, Milan Kundera

Kundera’s The Joke is really one big joke. It’s brilliant!

-Rant on

T

Links that motivated this post:
Opium of the people | Wiki

Gourmet Festivals And Bee Stings

The bourgeoisie have been let loose, dear worst-reader. This weekend in D’dorf was the yearly Gourmet Festival. The entire Königsallee is filled with all kinds of food stands, food trucks, etc., where you can indulge in fine dining galore or examine fancy-built grills. You can even be astonished at a “farmed” yellow fin tuna from Malta that is probably worth a few grand (if not more). Of course, getting to such a festival is the hard part. It begins with the night before and watching Steve McQueen in The Cincinnati Kid. Although not the best film to watch, Ann Margaret is worth every moment–especially her biblical consumption of an apple while lying on a bed in a negligee. After a good nights sleep dreaming about Ann Margaret (or was it Biblical apples) I hopped on my trusty e-bike and before I could even get very far I was stung by a bee that got caught in my shirt. Luckily I was able to get the stinger out before it got too deep. I can’t say that I’m happy to be reminded about how much a bee sting hurts. It’s been a long time since I was stung. I was stung, btw, on my side, just above my hip. Yeah, that smarts extra. And before I forget. If you ever happen to make it to this street festival, steer clear from the fancy stand with the colourful, luscious olives. We bought two bags of olives and some incredible tasting dried tomatoes. It cost us more than thirty friggin Euros. But that’s the Königsallee for ya.

-Rant on

T

Worst-Writer Clairvoyance Or Conspiracy Cupcake Premonition

Disclaimer 1: I started this worst-post with something in mind and didn’t quite get to where I wanted or hoped to go. Posting it anyway because, well, worst-writer can. Good luck.

Disclaimer 2: If you want to get to the nitty-gritty about why the above pics are here, move down to Moving On.

Disclaimer 3: there is some NSFW language in this worst-post.

I was probably twenty or so years old. I was ticketed three times on the same highway at approximately the same vicinity and all within six months–for speeding. I can’t remember how fast I was going but it was probably between seventy or seventy-five mph in a fifty-five zone. Of course, I paid the fines and took the points on my license and even dealt with the increase in my car insurance premium. It’s what we sheople must do, eh. But then I got a letter in the mail that I was to appear before a sheriff regarding my transgressions. It was an official summons and if I didn’t show up my driver’s license would be revoked immediately. I showed up for the appointment and sat before the Sheriff. While waiting for him to respond to me, I inquired about the necessity of such a summons. He began to scold me. He told me that I was only to speak when spoken to and that I should immediately turn over my driver’s license to him. When I asked why he wanted my license he said that it was being revoked for six weeks because of my transgressions. “But I paid my fines,” I said. He was silent filling out some form on a mechanical typewriter. When I told him that I would be out of work on account I couldn’t get to work without the ability to drive, he said that I should have thought about that after the first speeding ticket. Then he proceeded to lecture me on the fact that in the state of Maryland I need to show more respect for the privilege of being allowed to drive. When I questioned the validity of privilege juxtaposed with need, he immediately upped the six weeks to three months and whispered “smart-asses don’t get far in life.” But then came the real question.

“How do I get home from here if you take my license and my car is parked outside,” I asked.

“You should have thought about that before you disrespected the privilege to drive in this State, you little shit,” was his response.

I was, of course, in total shock. How can this be? What kind of “State” is this? And then I thought, perhaps even slightly whispered: Fcuk you, you piece of shit authoritarian nazi. Indeed. It was a very slight whisper. Anywho. Long story short: The Sheriff gave me a handwritten note that said he had my license and then told me to drive home with it (the note) and if I were stopped by a police officer to show it (the note) to the officer. He then added that I should wait for a letter in the mail from his office and that if in the meantime if I were caught driving, my license would be revoked for up to two years and I would be required to pay up to two thousand dollars in fines.

“Do you understand? Answer with yes or no, (you little shit).” -The Sheriff (the parentheses mine)

That happened, dear worst-reader, after paying ridiculous amounts of fines because I was driving on an empty highway and for a few seconds while descending a rather long hill I went from driving the speed limit to exceeding it (yes! three times) not to mention there was not one car in my lane or the opposing lane–no car even passed us (the police man and me on the side of the road; three times!)–and, other than one ticket two years before, I had a clean driving record. Yeah, that is how pseudo-authoritarianism mixed with power hungry small-town, small-minded bureaucrats and administrators wield power over the powerless. It is truly a ridiculous display of meddling in the lives of others via arbitrary state sanctioned mechanisms–that must somehow prove their value (to society?). I am from a place where people, especially the down-trodden, are literally nickeled & dimmed, picked at and prodded, insulted and teased, faced with inhuman tendencies and mind’s that have never surpassed the fifth fcuking grade. It’s really no wonder that so many #Americants are now blowing fuses and resorting to extremes to somehow fight back–or just consume-to-survive. It’s also reason as to how/why a un-man like #Trump can rise so high.

Oh, my beloved & missed #Americant is and has always been one fcuked up $hitshow. I mean, don’t get me wrong. If you can afford not to get caught up in the triviality and superficiality of #Americant and its pettiness and thereby avoid local governance and its arbitrary administrativeness, it’s a fun place. Indeed. That’s what it’s all about. Fun and what you can afford. And so. Lost between the confines of authority and control, both dictated by wealth and position, bureaucracy and administration, #Americants must now wave and weave in a world of ignorance galore of its own making and all for the sake of submission to a remarkably dumbed-down system, i.e. $hitshow.

Yet there are those who weave through this mess with ease, eh.

Which brings me to the following question: How much nickel and dimming has the likes of President Stupid had to deal with in his un-life?

Answer: President Stupid has been dealing with the #Americant $hitshow his whole life. He is both the sheriff and the highway transgressor. For some this is amusing. You know, the folk that voted for him. For others, he is an outcast. Indeed.  In his native NYC he is an object of ridicule by most rich assholes that are so much more capable than he is. In fact, my worst-guess is, he has spent his entire life trying to get some respect–and has failed miserably to do so. As the oldest ever inaugurated President, that won an election because of a Constitutional glitch (the electoral college) and not by being elected by the people, you’d think he would/could find some humility and at least realise that there’s still a chance to earn that respect that is otherwise a hole in the middle of his ugly, disgusting motherfcuking soul. Wishful thinking, eh. But don’t listen to worst-writer. Try this (on for size) from a former Republican, then a former Democrat and currently an Independent–but also a real billionaire, i.e. a rich NYC guy that earned his keep and really, really hates President Stupid:

“Given my background, I’ve often encouraged business leaders to run for office because many of them share that same pragmatic approach to building consensus, but not all. Most of us who have created a business know that we’re only as good as the way our employees, clients, and partners view us. Most of us don’t pretend that we’re smart enough to make every big decision by ourselves. And most of us who have our names on the door know that we’re only as good as our word. But not Donald Trump. Throughout his career, Trump has left behind a well-documented record of bankruptcies, thousands of lawsuits, angry shareholders, and contractors who feel cheated, and disillusioned customers who feel ripped off. Trump says he wants to run the nation like he’s run his business. God help us.” -Michael Bloomberg 2016 DNC Convention speech saying he’d vote for #Hillary; link to full text of this speech below; underscore from me.

Moving on.

But what does any of this have to do with my driver’s license being revoked forty years ago? Well, forget about the driver’s license stuff. Or just remember that I kinda like typing a bit too much. Or keep this in mind: it’s the nickel & dimming, dear worst-reader. It’s the poking and prodding, the teasing and ridicule, the shame and the shameless. Donald Trump and my beloved & missed #Americant that gave us this man is all of this and more. And when I say more, I mean lots more. And so, get prepared worst-readers. Here’s what’s coming next.

Look carefully at the pictures at the top of this post. What do you see? There is a beautiful, idyllic young woman in one pic. In the other is an ugly white-man. (Well, there’s three ugly white men but we’re focused on the man in the centre of the three). And then there’s the pic of President Stupid. According to the newz, the ugly white-man (centre, second pic) impregnated the idyllic beauty and when she aborted he paid for it. But does she really look like a girl (or even a gold digger) that would fcuk the likes of that ugly white-man? Does he even look like a man that can grab a woman by the pu$$y? Worst-moi think not. Which means, who is the cause and who is the source of the $1.6m paid to this woman for aborting her… idyllic? Here’s your worst-writer clairvoyance (premonition) for the coming months.

Since we already know that President Stupid has a preference when it comes to how the pu$$y he grabs looks, i.e. like his daughter. It’s safe to assume that Elliot Broidy (the ugly white-man in the centre of the pic of three ugly white-men) is not the one who planted what would eventually be aborted in Shera Bechard (idyllic pic pure). Take a look at the pictures again. As unappealing as #Trump is (third pic bottom), I’ll admit there is something alluring about his ugliness. This Broidy guy, though, what does he have to offer–or am I missing his grand allure because I’m too far distorted from gold digging diggers galore? Ok. Can gold-diggers be choosey? Come on, let’s not split hairs here–am I wrong?

If the November 2018 mid-term elections don’t favour getting not only republicans under control but President Stupid, too, it will be revealed that the bimbo pictured above got a krapp load of money to abort Trump’s baby. Which brings me to my final worst-question:

How much more of this disgust do rational minds have to put up with?

Good luck suckers.

-Rant on

T

Links that motivated this post:

The Glory Hole Of Rubbernecking And The Only Voice Spoken For You

crash.jpg
Screenshot from the #interwebnets

Loved it when Robert De Niro took a moment at this year’s Tony Awards and said what need be said. I’m worst-writing, of course, about his vivid criticism and ornery dismay of a world where Donald J. Trump, aka President Stupid, is for real. But then again where could the GOP, republicans, conservatives and their old-money go after…

  1. first black president and
  2. bigoted misogyny galore, i.e. too much un-love for #Hillary?

Is it not inevitable that the likes of President Stupid emerge and that mouths, souls and eyes bleed with foamed goo-hate? Or did you ever think that the bumbling idiot Dubya (Bush) couldn’t be topped by electing an even stupider president after a beautiful, brilliant president (Obama)? That’s right, dear worst-reader, there is a way to fix stupid:

  1. leave it up to #Americant uglies (deplorables) and
  2. lighten up on what stupid really means.

Indeed, dear worst-reader. We’re dealing with a whole new level of stupid here. For example. Obviously Trump has done well with his inheritance from a racist, paranoid, ugly, greed-mongering stupid white-man father who represents all the uglies of at least two generations. In fact, Trump has done well enough to have avoided the prosecution he deserves, which is what he really should have inherited. Or does he just deserve a good, humiliating tar & feathering in a public space? But on that note, I digress.

We’re not really dealing here with the opposite of “smart” in the intellectual sense, are we? Indeed. Anti-intellectualism in my beloved & missed #Americant has reached epic proportions. What else can happen in a land where words like creationism and intelligent design are part of the norm and not part of the abnormal? Is it not this abnormality Trump rides upon–as he does with so many deserving gold-diggers–that got him elected via the GOP? I’m worst-writing, of course, about the evangelical base that will forgive him for anything. Finding absolution from clergy has found a way to circumvent advances from the middle ages and even the enlightenment. Yes. They will forgive him for anything he’s done and have already forgiven him for what he will do. The religious right-wing of #Americant, baby. It is so forgiving. Forgiving stupid is as limitless and mindless as anti-intellectualism plus faith.

Stupid? How to find it? Where to look. Or, as Elvis once sang: Stop! Look and listen, baby, that’s my philosophy. It’s called rubbernecking, baby…

Rubbernecking is the act of staring at something of interest. The term rubbernecking refers to the physical act of craning one’s neck, performed in order to get a better view; it has been described as a human trait that is associated with morbid curiosity; it can be the cause of traffic jams, sometimes referred to as “gapers’ blocks” or “gapers’ delay”, as drivers slow down to see what happened in a crash. -Wiki

A crash, dear worst-reader. #Americant is in a state of perpetual crash with everybody incessantly staring at it. Behold the minions staring with their morbid curiosity at the crash they’ve made. Which brings me to the following: How else can the taped conversations of Omarosa & Co. be interesting? Have you heard them, dear worst-reader? Those crash tapes. Listening to them is not unlike trying to watch Faux-Newz. The stomach starts to churn first. Then come the gaseous expulsions followed by pre-throw-up. The next thing you know, while some dimwit stupid white person is telling you what to do, what to think, how to behave and how to follow, you throw-up like never before. But I braced myself for Omarosa, especially the tape with John Kelly. Even though the tape with President Stupid’s son’s wife was also chilling and followed the/this pattern of stupidness, the one with Kelly is a jewel. Reason? If you listen close enough (if you can stand it; throwing-up before-hand will help) you can hear your life being spoken to you, if you’re one of the minions. Can you follow me on that thought, dear worst-reader?

Let me explain anew. Omarosa is quiet in the tape with Kelly. Kelly does most of the talking. I imagine her craning her neck as Kelly talks by her, beyond her, above her. For it does take two to tango in such a crash, doesn’t it? You need the crash participants and you need the rubberneckers. And Kelly delivers his part brilliantly. Kelly is the crash with #Americant. He represents not just #Trump but those who made him. The bumpers and wheels and transmissions from a former glorious Detroit rock-city where cars ruled the world. And now they just are a crash. The tone Kelly uses in his crash. The words he chooses. The texture in his voice. The cadence of his and #Americants’ sound. It’s as though humanity reached a peak at one point (the enlightenment?) and since then has been on a long journey of spiralling down from the top of ladder of failure forever reached. And as I had listened enough I realised that what I was really hearing was not a conversation between two people (of intellect) but instead wasted minds shivering about the ills of space & time run amok where nothingness plus money is the only thing there is. The sound of corporate, power-hungry voices stuffed full of guilt, no-shame and limitless inhumility. Oh, how my beloved & missed #Americant has fallen. And we can thank Omarosa for one thing during this fall: allowing us to hear its decline galore in ugly corpo-voice.

Thank you Omarosa for the world you and your ilk have made. Enjoying choking on it.

-Rant on

T

Nothing Pretty About Them At All

swan.jpg

At a place where I walk Beckett, the killer pug, is this little body of water that is filled with all kinds of weird algae (due to the extreme summer heat), ducks and swans. Two of the swans are kinda there permanently–as I can see from tags on their webbed feet. These two swans are obviously mates and, as mates do–so I’ve heard–they procreate a whole bunch. Indeed. This spring I’ve witnessed their their third offspring. Needless to say, these critters can be quite ornery. Sometimes, as the banks of the little lake are quite high, I have to be careful not to be surprised by them as they feed with their heads sunk under the water’s surface. For if you are surprised by them they will first start hissing and then they will attack you. With that in mind, are these pretty creatures or what? Then again, what the hell happened in nature that could result in these animals? Just askin’?

-Rant on

T

There Are A Few Adults In The Room

Ever since the Golf War started (1990-91) I’ve lost a lot of respect for the US Military. On the other hand, I respect the economically conscripted soldiers and sailors and airmen. When I lived in Wiesbaden, I thoroughly enjoyed US military company that allowed me to stay in touch with my beloved & missed #Americant. Heck, I even respect some of the higher-ups, the ones that made über careers out of their economic or cultural conscription. But it must not be forgotten that since 1990 the US has waged war NOT in the name of freedom or even national security. No. Instead, the US military has become nothing more than a tool for Empire. And to make things worse: in order to actually fight a “war” you need an enemy with a fcuking army. But I digress.

While listening to one of many news podcasts, a higher-up in the US military caught my attention. This cat has actually stuck his neck out there and has taken a stand–the right stand–against President Stupid, HIS President Stupid! Well all-right then. That’s how you do it. You write an op-ed at a pay-wall news site–which means I had to go through other sources to find what he actually said (see links below)–and you hope the world, or at least the US, can rise above this/the President Stupid nightmare. Whether or not that happens is a whole ‘nother worst-post.

Here my fav excerpts of what this bad-ass military tool wrote:

“A good leader tries to embody the best qualities of his or her organization. A good leader sets the example for others to follow. A good leader always puts the welfare of others before himself or herself. …

“Through your actions, you have embarrassed us in the eyes of our children, humiliated us on the world stage and, worst of all, divided us as a nation. …

“If you think for a moment that your McCarthy-era tactics will suppress the voices of criticism, you are sadly mistaken. …

“Like most Americans, I had hoped that when you became president, you would rise to the occasion and become the leader this great nation needs. …”

-Ret. Admiral William McRaven

Good luck suckers.

-Rant on

T

Links that motivated this post:

Battle of Communications

“The battle for the survival of man as a responsible being in the Communications Era is not to be won where the communication originates, but where it arrives.” -Umberto Eco, Travels in Hyperreality, Towards a Semiological Guerrilla Warfare

But seriously. If/when the communication arrives at the #Americant in the comfort of his credit card, never-paid-for lazy-boy, how should then the battle be waged?

Just askin’.

-Rant on

T

The Darnedest Things Around

Brisk walk this morning… No. This afternoon. Yeah, had brisk walk this afternoon. Nomatter. Get a load of that elbow, dear worst-reader. The left elbow of the dude with the fancy pig head. I’ve been passing by that Baroque building and statue for almost three years now. Never noticed the strange position of the elbow, though. Ever seen such a thing? Luckily, when I consulted Claudia, a former sculptress, and now a highly praised dancer in the art of vertical pole-ology, she told me that she even knows the local artist that made it.

“Yeah,” she said. “He ran out of time and money, as usual. So for shits&giggles he threw an arm on it that was laying around. He saved some money, don’t you know.”

Well, go figure, I thought. But it does (the arm, elbow) look kinda out of joint. Or?

Then I found a teddy-bear from Vulcan (yeah, Spock Vulcan). Found green blood n’all. I’m sure he was a cute little fellow at one time. But he smelled kinda funny when I took the shot. (And, yes, I buried him out of respect.)

The kicker in this post, though, dear worst-reader, is the Anti-Monopoly game I found on a park bench along the Rhine River after a welcome rain storm. You know, we’ve been having a heatwave here. My only question was, did the storm come along and scare the players away? Cause they left the whole game.

-Rant on.

T

Uncode Yourself – Before It’s Too Late

capitalism and freedom friedman

Subtitle 1: It’s Too Late!

Subtitle 2: Thoughts on re-read of Milton Friedman’s Capitalism and Freedom.

“The Liberal conceives of men as imperfect beings. He regards the problem of social organisation to be as much a negative problem of preventing “bad” people from doing harm as of enabling “good” people to do good; and, of course, “bad” and “good” people may be the same people, depending on who is judging them.” -Milton Friedman

Sound familiar, dear worst-reader? Sound anything like what President Stupid said when trying to explain there are good and bad people on both sides of Charlottesville, VA, 2017? With that in mind, is it time to wake up to the embedded code that makes up this/your sucker>fool #MAGA again again again, etc.?

The code has got you.

On the one hand, some refer to the code as the bubble. Others may call it the narative. Then there’s drinking the kool-aide. Let’s stick with bubble, shall we.

“Dude, you’re stuck in a bubble and that’s why you can’t understand what I’m fcuking trying to tell you.”

Of course, the issue being discussed is that of politics. Witnessing a discussion in America with Americans about politics is indeed a sight to behold. But who doesn’t like watching monkeys alternate their thumbs between ass to mouth? And speaking of monkeys, politics and the krapp #Americant has gotten itself into. Here a few random thoughts as to how it got this way.

  • Can you pay off all your debt in thirty days, two months, less than six months?
  • How are those multiple mortgages that you took out; think you bought low, got some great fictional interest rates; and now no one can pay rent to feed that low interest?
  • Worried about seeing a doctor, dentist, or even calling an ambulance?
  • Finance a car for seven years lately, sucker? Seriously. Seven year car financing. Are cars made to last that long?
  • How does it feel to be part of the minority-rule supporting the 1% because you’re too fcuking stupid to have thought about this over the past thirty years?
  • And let’s not even talk about credit cards, student loans, etc.

But there’s more code.

“On the one hand, if the minority feels strongly about the issue involved, even a bare majority will not do. Few of us would be willing to have issues of free speech, for example, decided by a bare majority.” -M. Friedman

“That’s a demon I will take down, or I’ll die trying. So that’s it. It’s going to happen, we’re going to walk out in the square, politically, at high noon, and he’s going to find out whether he makes a move man, make the move first, and then it’s going to happen. It’s not a joke. It’s not a game. It’s the real world. Politically. You’re going to get it, or I’m going to die trying, bitch. Get ready. We’re going to bang heads. We’re going to bang heads.” -Alex Jones about Robert Mueller (who is investigating President Stupid for being stupid)

What is your favourite code? I know the favourite code of certain types of stupid, ugly white people. And I assure it has nothing to do with an app for your phone. But let’s not get too complicated. Here an example of some very simple non-app code: unite the right rally. Why would a country need such a rally in 2017? Has the right been so convoluted/diluted over the years–you know, post 1865–that it has to unite (again)? If so, how does such a thing permeate through time & space of the American Dream (sarcasm off)? Indeed. What motivates these really, really ugly, stupid white people to do such a thing? That’s right. Code. The code of language, of gesture, of eye-contact, clothing, crocs. And so, after recently reading a brilliant book, I began to ask: what is this code?

Last night in an ill-motivated and drunken stupor I reached for my e-reader and immediately called up Milton Friedman’s Capitalism and Freedom. I started re-reading…

Chapter 2: The Role of Government in a Free Society

“The mere mention of royalties, copyrights, patent; shares of stock in corporations; riparian rights, and the like, may perhaps emphasise the role of generally accepted social rules in the very definition of property. It may suggest also that, in many cases, the existence of well specified and generally accepted definition of property is far more important than just what the definition is.” -M. Friedman

“That depends on what ‘is’ is.” -Bill Clinton

Yes. Re-reading Milton Friedman while suffering a kind of panic-attack, especially while sorrow-raging over a twenty-nine year old minimum wage airport worker stealing a commercial airplane, crashing it in a fit of suicide, and then listening to the Newz (The Media?) never ask once why a human being would resort to such a thing. Yeah, reason enough to re-read Friedman, eh. Then again, the thing that hit me is that there is something that connects all of this. What connects is not just all the (bad) Newz, don’t you know. But also all the blatant stupidity that has somehow given rise to THE CODE. Which begs the questions: Is the code emerging, showing its true face? If yes, what’s brought it out? Is it the sorrow-rage of mass suicide on a social and cultural and epidemic scale that no one wants to question? Does the code include the peripheral that goes beyond killing yourself by hi-jacking a commercial airline but also to take with you as much as you can–as the Vegas Shooter (2017) did? Have these people understood the code–a bit too well?

Who are the code writers?

Seriously. I always thought Milton Friedman was one scary motherf’er. The $hit he writes, man. All pure code. And how many people follow him? How many adore him? But it doesn’t stop there. I had no idear that he could be topped. I suppose, in a way, after reading extensive research about him, and now having discovered someone even worse, I’m afraid to go anywhere near a guy like James M. Buchanan. Is it because, maybe, like so many of my #Americant brethren, I’m worried something might turn me? You know, convert me, show me the light, redeem me in the confusion-hate of John the Baptist and his lead-tainted industrial river greed water? Reading one of these crackpots is enough, ain’t it? Please let it be enough. And although I will admit I am tempted to dabble in Hayek for posterity’s sake, please don’t let me go near the likes of James M. Buchanan. Aghast!

As stated, since reading Capitalism and Freedom during a Bali trip ca. 2006/7, and only being impressed with the first two chapters, although I did read the whole book, something tethered my thoughts back to it recently after opening the can of worms that is hate-economics e.g. Friedman & Co. And it’s all about how they write not what they write. Well, it’s also about what they write. Nomatter.

Code. Code. Code.

Code is what these crackpot, dogmatic, idealist, pseudo-economists use when they write books. (Ok. “pseudo” probably not applicable but I’ll keep it all the same.) And their books are nothing more than how-to guides on economic authoritarianism. That’s right. They really are writing how-to books for fascists. Remember, fascism is capitalisms answer to communism, per F.A. Hayek. Yes. These man produce easy guides (easy for the edumacated pawns of the fascist dear leader) about how to oppress people, nations, etc. using economic torture. And boy are they good at it. Friedman & Co., baby. They have been feeding the mind of greed-mongers for at least a century now. And look at the result.

Obviously, President Stupid is taking the code to new levels. Perhaps he’s even side-stepping convention in his use of the code. But make no mistake, dear worst-reader, he too is a code-monger. I mean, come on. At least Friedman can articulate a thought and make it intellectual–even if it is an evil thought. President Stupid does it on Twitter where he’s able to spew code to the redneck shitkickers at the base of the alt-right, right-wing, WWE, fly-over states, free t-shirts and hats make millions of minions vote. And that’s how you activate the electoral college, #Hillary.

Side note: The reason Twitter won’t cancel Alex Jones after Apple and other tech companies have, is because of #Trump. Think about it. Just look at the number of President Stupid followers. Then calculate how much it might cost in stock value if Twitter were to actually do the right thing. (Yeah, Twitter can’t afford it.)

But I digress.

Code Code Code.

“It is therefore clearly possible to have economic arrangements that are fundamentally capitalist and political arrangements that are not free.” -M. Friedman

Two words out of this last quote. Capital and Free. Milton Friedman’s book is titled “Capitalism and Freedom”. Perhaps, not unlike Einstein’s E=MC2, which is also a kind of code, Friedman has found a way to explain everything in the most simple terms. The only problem is that Einstein eventually came around to the destructive power of his code. Friedman died laughing about the suckers he turned to fools with his code. Indeed. Friedman’s Capitalism and Freedom is ONLY about capitalist being free to do what ever the fcuk they want. And they do so via code:

Capital + Freedom = Freedom for Capitalists nomatter what the result.

Or maybe not.

Either way, good luck on your journey (#Americants) from being turned suckers to fools.

-Rant on

T

Shame And Delusion = Everything Goes From Wrong To Wronger, Stupid to Stupider

Yeah, I bad mouth my (home) country. But do I do it more than Zack Mayo? No, of course not. Then again, unlike Zack, I won’t go on to become a fighter pilot that will probably be bombing defenceless people at the behest of really, really, ugly rich white people. And on that note, I digress.

Two pieces of newz blowing my mind today, dear worst-reader, about my beloved & missed #Americant. The first has got to be about the most obvious crime of stock market insider trading ever? And guess who commits it? That’s right, yet another greed-monger, along with his greed monger family. But this ain’t any greed-monger. He’s an elected greed-monger–and on a side note he is also the first US Congressman that endorsed #Trump when he announced his candidacy in 2015. Coincidence? To top things off, would you believe he’s not the only one who got the call from the insider about divesting his stock holdings in an imminently failing company–before that information was made public? No. His son got the call too. Yeah, baby. Keep it in the family.

The second story is about a twenty-nine year old minimum wage, airport ground facility worker that found a way to fly off in a commercial airline, goof off in the air a bit, and then gallantly crash the plane in a fit of suicide. Ok. Ok. As serious as planes and suicide can be, somehow this one turns my boredom (of it all) into a sorrow-rage. I spent a bit of time this morning listening to the published recordings between the clueless who tried to talk the man down to a controlled landing and the man himself, however slightly, if not stealthily, as he complained about being stuck in the hell-hole that is working-stiff #Americant.

How did he complain, you ask, dear worst-reader? Check this out. He was actually too nice to complain rudely. You know, like worst-writer complains (rants) rudely. The guy was so nice while talking with the air traffic controller that I thought for a moment this would turn out to be some kind of prank gone wrong and the guy would land and everyone on the ground would hug him. The non-pilot pilot admits to not wanting to inconvenience the air traffic controller with trying to help him land because he’ll “just make a mess down there.” Later he even talks about how he doesn’t want to hurt anyone so he shouldn’t try landing at another airport the controller tries to steer him to. Then there comes a few complaints about “minimum wage” and being “white”. He adds “maybe that will grease the gears” of the managers, as though this last mission is to complain, however slightly, about the conditions of being a working stiff. Yeah, twenty-nine years of age and stuck in a minimum wage job! Gee, I wonder how many of his family (who he so nicely apologises to, btw) voted for #Trump, republicans, i.e. those who might not have made the whole #Americant mess but who certainly like the mess staying around for awhile? I mean, seriously. No wonder so many resort to this as their choice of exiting the $hitshow. Quite different than the Vegas shooter, eh? Or?

Good luck suckers.

-Rant on

T

Links that motivated this post:

Wishful Roadkill On Your Dashboard And Other Worst Pics

Cute as a button how someone could put tiny animal-dolls on their Mercedes dashboard. I only wonder what they are thinking as they drive. I even went around the car to see if there was anything else to photograph. No rotting animal carcasses anywhere. Also, no USB cables or smartphone holders. Whaaaaa? I then headed to the Rhine, which is terribly shallow right now on account of one of #Eurowasteland’s worst heatwaves in years. But perhaps the desertification of the Rhine region might hold out a bit. Then again, shipping German made tractors can’t displace all the much water. Or? Then Beckett, the killer pug, discovered a pumpkin patch right on the corner of a drive-way. Cool, I thought. Now if only Cinderella can find it when she needs it. Say, ever herd of “Gang – Joker Crew”? Me neither. But I think I’ve seen this graffiti before. Nomatter. Final pic is of some German miscalculation when tearing down an old house. Or do you think they hit it right?

-Rant on

T

Pseudo Review – 2: How Deep Do The Unpeeled Layers Of Your Rotten Onion Go?

democracy in chains cover

Subtitle: “Democracy In Chains” By Nancy MacLean Goes Seriously Deep Into What Makes #Americant Stupider Not Greater.

She took me deeper, dear worst-reader. This historian, this professor-type person that writes books–and she can take you deep, too. That is, if you’re at all inclined to go deep. Especially the kind of deep that involves figuring out what made The Land of Free To Be Stupid. I mean, ain’t that where we’re at right now? Especially considering that such a claim is straight out of the worst-mouth of an expat–who jumped ship over twenty years ago on account he saw all this stupid coming? Then again, with the political situation in my beloved & missed #Americant–that I probably follow waaaaaay to much–I’d say we’re long past the old saying: going off the deep end. Yeah, we’re actually right there measuring how deep that deep-end goes as we fail-upwards and the ground can be seen below… I mean above. How’s the view for you?

I finished “Democracy in Chains” by Nancy MacLean the other day in the late morning. I’ve been telling myself that I need to let the book rest–as in, rest in my mind–a bit, especially considering I wrote this worst-post about it only two days ago. The thing is, two days ago, I couldn’t stop my typing fingers even though I was only half-way through the book. That’s what happens when you find a book that gets to your innards, eh, dear worst-reader? Indeed.

If you are at all into trying to figure out how something can get so fcuked up, especially politically and economically, MacLean has found a way to explain it to you. Of course, I’m always looking out for a good book to read. I’m specifically looking for a book that will get under my gander by teaching me a thing or three about this fcuked up world we’re all stuck with on account a bunch of greed-mongers run it. This book comes pretty close to doing just that. For example, who the fcuk is James M. Buchanan? Not even sure if I ever heard that he won the friggin Nobel Prize for economics. But before I get too much into all that, allow me to provide an analogy or two that might help you understand worst-writer and where I’m coming from.

Analogy 1 – Peel the onion

You know that old saying, don’t you dear worst-reader? But what does peeling the onion really mean? Well, for some, it’s about work. It’s also about slow work. Some even think it’s about how to get chicks. But let’s stick with work, shall we? You peel the onion and with every layer peeled you complete something. For worst-moi, Democracy in Chains, is the result of having completed a seriously cool onion peel. Layer after layer MacLean shows how the political right-wing of #Americant–and for you both-siderists out there, this really is a right-wing only problem–has a plan to fcuk you over all in the name of, to put it simply: old-money. Let me worst-write that again. Old money is fcuking you. And that’s not the best part about this book. The best part is that MacLean seems to have made a major discovery by…

  1. Peel a completely new onion
  2. With every layer peeled, blow worst-writer’s fcuking mind that kinda knew all this already. (Or maybe not.)

And so. If you want to understand what’s wrong with #Americant and how someone like #Trump can become President Stupid, have a look at what the right-wing has been doing since… Get this. The right-wing has been fcuking you since the fcuking civil fcuking war and they’ve been doing it like leeches, roaches, cockscukers, etc. But let me move on before I blow a gasket.

Analogy 2 – Inception, the movie

It’s been a while since watching the movie, so let me summarise it like this. (Spoiler Alert!) Leonardo DeCaprio is a kind of dream thief. Through some weird chemical and technical manipulation where two people are connected, a dream-state is induced between them. While in the dream-state Leonardo becomes part of the other persons dream–but they don’t know that. They just think he’s a character in their dream. The dreamer is then manipulated by Leonardo which leads to some form of criminal activity in the real world. And here’s the kicker about how I think this has something to do with what Nancy MacLean has done. Leonardo not only can go into one dream-state but he can also go deeper into a dream-state within a dream-state. You got that? I can’t remember how many levels of dreams he ultimately penetrates but he obviously goes pretty deep into various dream-states by the end of the movie.

If I understand MacLean correctly, #Americant republicans, libertarians, Neo-liberals and conservatives, for decades, have been working deep within the layers of the #Americant onion. With the help of Leonardo DeCaprio they’ve been peeling it away from within your dreams in order to screw you and…

Ok. Maybe not. At least forget the last DeCaprio reference. Let’s move on.

Up to now I really only thought republicanism had two levels. I thought these two levels pretty much controlled the whole show. One level is a particular form of economic ideology, you know, Milton Friedman & Co. The other, of course, is religious bat$hittery. You know, James Dobson, Jerry Falwell, The 700 Club, weight-lifting, muscle-bound, gun-totting Jesus, etc. But I was wrong. Although the religious part is probably singular in its execution, there are multiple layers of economic ideology that have been stealing the show for decades. These multiple economic layers, though, are not just Keynesian or Austrian schools, among others. Instead there is something completely different going on here.

Seriously. If you thought things couldn’t get any worse because of $hitbags like Milton Friedman, think again. MacLean, in her book, reveals some pretty astonishing stuff about the players in the grand greed $hitshow–from a whole bunch of new layers (peeled away). For example. I had no idear someone other than Milton Friedman was part of what turned Chile, if not most of South America, into a bastion of old money Neo-feudal aristocracies–that right-wing extremists in #Americant adore. Another example. A rinky-dink college in the middle of Redneckville, Virginia, George Mason University, has played a huge role in some of the most dirty, rotten onion layers of republicanism. Seriously. Redneck school got one up on the infamous Chicago School (Milton Friedman)? Take that, Chicago!

If MacLean is right, the stuff she’s discovered in her research is not only scary, but people should probably start filling up their shelter-bunkers–cause it looks like the bat$hit greed-mongers have a long-term plan in place and they ain’t done yet. The upper middle-class schmucks should get on with filling their bunker’s first on account they ain’t part of the layer of republicanism that is doing all this–as they are beholden to the trickle down of the 1%. More on that in my worst-post about being ruled by the minority 30% here.) And, as I’ve worst-said before, the people that make up the #Americant political right-wing, especially the really, really rich and well-inherited dudes, if they can’t get their way with all their misconstrued economic ideology that is basically nothing but bigotry, greed and racism, they will fcuking burn the house down. And they are in pretty good position to do it, too. Speaking of…

Charles Koch

A name that has been creeping around the newz I read and listen to (podcast) for years. But to be honest, I’ve always thought he was just another lucky dude that inherited a krapp load of money from his father. According to the history of Koch Industries, since he inherited it, he’s done pretty well for himself. But has he done anything new, anything original? Of course not. Even though MacLean is very lenient about this man in her book and even praises him for having earned multiple academic credentials in whatever field of science or engineering from whatever bat$hit school, I haven’t fallen for any of that. This guy is nothing more than a second or third generation a$$hole that inherited inherited inherited–like so many others in #Americant. And because of his/her perverted, sexually repressed upbringing, mixed with Godzilla-like bigotry, he is nothing but a man who has never been able to face the fact that he’s never known an original thought. That’s how and only how his old inherited money has enabled him to “succeed”. If you can even call not having ever done anything original but instead buying other companies, bullying other business, blah, blah, blah, success. He and his ilk (very old money inheritors) hate the fact that the world is desperately trying to move on. Men like Koch would rather stop the world from turning. That, btw, is one of the main reasons why old-money is so ugly. Charles Koch, with the help of his favourite political ideology (Libertarianism)–that in its essence is nothing more than greed mongering galore–uses his wealth to manipulate politics for one thing and one thing only. For himself. The #Americant way!

James M. Buchanan

People like Charles Koch, as I said, are incapable of original thought. Therefore they need thinkers. But what do you do if the only people you can associate with (because of your innate prejudices) have even less original thinking than you? You find someone that doesn’t need original thinking. You find someone that can take unoriginal thought and dress it up in a suit and tie and a certain lapel flag-pin–and then sell it as something new. Enter a world full of pawns, academia and pawn-credentialed-academia. Seriously. I thought Milton Friedman was a jerk-off. But Nancy MacLean peeled that onion and found a jerk-off that tops Friedman.

James M. Buchanan, a man that should provide thinkers of this world enough ammunition to finally laugh-off the Nobel Prize–or at least reject it–turned out to be the perfect pawn bigoted a$$holes like Charles Koch could rely on. According to MacLean, Buchanan’s economic idears are perfect for despots of the modern age because they facilitate the writing of constitutions that almost literally put people in economic chains. Hence, the title of her book. And so, Buchanan was useful to Koch until the bitter end when eventually they had to break ranks due to, you guessed it, bigoted, rich-a$$hole infighting.

In worst-summary

Although I don’t want to spoil the book (or have I already), here’s what republicanism is up to according to Democracy in Chains: old money needs to be secured constitutionally–even more than it already is. That is, republicans–as they are guided by The Virginia School (Buchanan, Koch, etc.), the Chicago school and, of course, now #Trumpism, etc.–are in the process of making the system even more one sided and in favour of the rich and the privileged–and making all this akin to what things were like, lets say, between 1850 and 1913 (give or take a few decades). Btw, the term robber baron remind you of anything?

So there you have it. After reading this book I feel fulfilled and I’m happy–even though this book is at times utterly shocking. On the one hand, it has taught me something. On the other hand, I can go into the near future without questioning the contempt that burns inside me for everything #Americant, republican and conservative. Also, I am somewhat relieved that this book helps reassure me that the disease of both-siderism is nothing more than a layer in the right-wing onion. For real. #Americant is the way it is post 2016 presidential election because of republicans. And I think that’s cool. Reason? It makes me feel superior. It makes me feel tingly and giggly as I LMAO on this side of the Atlantic. It also reassures me that the choices I made in life, that were mostly because of the deep-seeded onion filth/rot I left so many years ago, was the right choice.

And boy do I miss America!

Good luck suckers.

-Rant on

T

Crocs Of $hi+

crocs of__
Worstwriter’s leather topped and fancy speckled…in my fav colour.

“Crocs, Inc. is a company that manufactures and distributes a foam clog shoe.” -Wiki

The above quote says pretty much everything, eh? “Foam clog shoe…”???? Unless, of course, you’re a devotee. According to the pic above, I guess, I’m a devotee. Actually, that’s not true. First. Yes, I own a pair of crocs. As you can see in the pic above, they’re a pretty old pair of crocs. I think they’re at least ten years old by now. Does that say anything for this brand of shoe? Who the f cares? Second. The truth is, I hate these things. The only reason I have them is because, well, I’m f’n lazy and über middle-aged–and I hate shopping for house-shoes–which means I haven’t yet gotten around to replacing these things that were a gift from Mom. Hold a sec. They were a gift from wife. Wait. I forget who gave them to me. What’s important is that I never bought a pair of these things. Also. I hate hard wood floors. And when my feet get tired from standing while reading… Hold a sec. Let me clarify that. That’s right, dear worst-reader, for half of my designating reading time, I stand. Give it a try. It’s a healthier thing to do. Anywho. When I’m standing while reading my feet get tired–from the f’n hardwood floors. These krappy shoes–clogs?–actually provide some relief when standing for extended periods. But as soon I start to walk around in them, I want to remove them. These things are awful to walk around in. Why do people love them? With that in mind, I’ve been living with hardwood floors for most of my years in Germania expatriation. Seriously. What’s with hardwood floors these days and when is shag carpet gonna make a comeback? Hardwood is freezing in the winter–even though our place has floor heating. They’re hot in the summer–especially considering the heatwave we’ve been dealing with lately. And they produce an odd and prevalent dust-film that is extra difficult to clean. That is, because of the hardwood and possibly the floor heating system, there is a constant dust-film everywhere. Needless say, Margaret, my Dutch slave-maid who wears skimpy garb when cleaning, hates me for dust but that’s why I pay her with my presence and money. And on that note, I digress.

I read a strange article on the #interwebnets this morning that Crocs–the shoe maker–was shutting its doors. First, I giggled. Second, I was kind of relieved. But then I started to think about it. Could Crocs actually go out of business and shut it’s doors? I mean, even though I hate the shoes, whenever I’m in my beloved & missed #Americant, I laugh my a$$ off watching people–a lot of people–walk around in these shoes in all kinds of public places. And for that, I suppose one has to recognise the genius of who ever came up with this krapp. Make it, make it cheap, sell it everywhere, always. There is a mass of human beings that would rather walk around in ridiculous sub-par house-shoes than wear something decent. Which brings me to this last worst-thought: even though I’m getting to that age where wine consumption and other sustenance abuse makes bending over and tying my shoes torture, I swear that I’ll do it till the day I die if it means not having to walk around in public as though the whole world is a sloppy Walmart store.

And by-the-buy, the article I read about Crocs closing is bogus. Yeah, fake newz has really caught on, eh.

-Rant on

Links that motivated this post:

Pseudo Review – 1: “Democracy in Chains” – A Book To Steal The Heart Of Any Rational Useless-Eater That Figured Out How To Dropout In Style And Doesn’t Look Back With Too Much Anger

Update: Pseudo Review – 2 is here.

Afeared yet, dear worst-reader? Well, if you ain’t afeared yet, it might be time to get your bloomers in an uproar. Or is it get your bloomers in a gander? Wait. How ’bout gettin’ things up in a pickle? Nomatter. I’ve been reading the book Democracy in Chains by the historian Nancy MacLean. In fact, I’m not even done reading it while I worst-write this pseudo-review. And let me tell you, dear worst-reader, two things have gotten to me since starting this book–that I’m about half-way through so far.

The first thing, as just mentioned, is that this book once again reminds me of why people–normal people, people that aren’t born rich and of privilege, people who have earned their “keep” and/or still owe but can pay their bills–including but not limited to people that vote for #Trumpism because they are incapable of dealing with the reality they’ve ALL gotten themselves into by falling for republicanism from the past thirty (sixty?) years…. All these people should be scared (afeared) out of their fcuking bat$hit minds.

Second, and I don’t mean to be overly spiteful, presumptuous, and giggly here, but even though Nancy MacLean probably nails it in this calling-out book about the fcuked-up right-wing of my beloved & missed #Americant, I am snickering my a$$ off at the fact that I knew all of this already–just not as empirically and academically as MacLean details it in her book. Indeed. Ever since I was a young man and tried to make it among the mindless greed herders so long ago, what MacLean writes about is definitely part of my #Americant, worst-writer, failed-artist be-speckled being. With that in mind, let me put this out there:

I am a proud Unützer Esser. Come on, dear worst-reader. Give those old Germanic words a go. Unützer Esser. Unützer Esser. Unützer Esser. Unützer Esser. Say it a few more times. Enjoy the mouth watering acrobatics of the umlaut. Let the double Germanic ‘S’ role over lip and gum and provide that gracious tickle that only comes from subjective oral pleasure you conjured out of any of the many sexual conquests that made HER mouth more appealing.

But enough about worst-moi.

In translation, of course, Unützer Esser means: Useless Eater. Sound familiar to you if you’re one of the minions mentioned above who can’t see through the demise of your own making? I mean, come on. These are two easy words that are pretty easy to grasp, even in the original German. Right? You know. Call up your prejudice. Yeah. There it is. You got it. For you and the conservative-bent that has ruled your life, a Useless Eater is a burden to you because you think and believe that such a person gets by in life and you’re the one that pays for it because you have to pay things like… wait for it: income tax. Of course, does it matter that I use the original German for this term–and not the one most greed mongers, especially those from the infamous #Americant middle-class, use? You know, using the original is cool on account Germans, at a certain point in their near past–which a lot of #Americant white people are obsessed with–kinda invented it? But do you really know what a Unützer Esser is?

For the Germans, Usless Eater wasn’t a term used to describe fully functional people who made choices in life that lead to suckling on the government teat. You know, the marginalised, the drop-outs, those not quite good enough in the realm of corporate behaviourism, etc. I mean, come on. Have you worked in a cubicle lately? Oh, really. You still do? Or are you collecting rent from smart-ass real-estate investments enabled by urban gentrification and artificially low/fake interest rates? Oh wait. Or are you one of them stock-market cocksuckers that actually believes the numbers you see are real–and not fiction/fake that can only be derived from the willing and able über-gullible? If so, good for you. But before we get too off the beaten worst-path.

A Useless Eater, for the Germans, was someone that was physically incapable of being productive and therefore was a cost, a burden to… wait for it: National Socialism. It was a term used to describe the physically and mentally dysfunctional (disabled)–not people that simply didn’t agree with the bullshit of greed-mongers or the ignorant-moronic middle-classes or those who never wanted to be part of a rentier-system that mis-associates a livelihood with actual, real achievement, i.e. a meritless society. Indeed. The Nazis had a different fate for those folk. Usless Eater, for the Nazis, was a term in conjunction with the systematic use of gas chambers, concentration camps, Final Solutions, etc. And as we can see, it’s quite a versatile term, don’t you know.

So here’s a question for you: Would the Germans have eventually used the term Unützer Esser–you know, after they gassed everybody–for the mass of people that would eventually be forced into similar, costly societal dysfunction because capitalism would once again (post 1929) turn into a $hitshow of greed?

Wow. Talk about a mute question, eh!

And now for a little on this book that I’ve only read half of so far.

The thing that motivated me to read Democracy In Chains was Bill Maher’s interview with the author on last week’s show (which I listen to via audio podcast; see link below). In the interview MacLean mentioned how the current #SCOTUS pick from President Stupid was very, very dangerous. In fact, the whole #SCOTUS thing has preoccupied me since right-wingers stole Barry-O’s pick after the death of Antonin Scalia in early 2016. Keep in mind, I’m not worried about this pick because of the reasons many liberals espouse, i.e. he’s a religious $hitbag–which is bad enough. Instead, MacLean mentioned that his judicial record indicates he is a follower of an even more extreme political and economic ideology than the one that’s gotten #Americant into the mess it’s now in. MacLean mentioned in the interview that Brett Kavanaugh is a right-winger that wants to change the US Constitution so that it will better favour property and liberty–for the rich. To do that, according to MacLean, this guy wants to change the 17th Amendment back to what it was originally, i.e. state legislators pick National Senators. He also wants to change the 25th Amendment, which deals with how to get rid of a corrupt President. And now you know why President Stupid picked him. And of course, let’s not forget he will most certainly over-turn Roe v. Wade thereby resetting political and social gains of women in the past… Gee, I don’t know: hundred or so fcuking years!

Wow.

The second thing to motivate me to read this book was the mention of Charles Koch and, someone I had never heard of: James M. Buchanan. Half way through the book I can easily tell you that you should be scared out of your wits–especially if you’re one of them both-siderists that enabled President Stupid. Or you’re a libertarian that will spend your life dreaming the dream of dreams thinking you’ll be safe when it all crashes–you know, with your Ayan Rand gold collection. Or, and here’s the doozy, you should be biggly, huuuuuugely afeard if you voted for Trump and you actually work/worked for a living. Yeah. What’s going on in the halls and cess-whirl-pools of the United Mistakes of #Americant right now should make you run for the fcuking hills! But then again, don’t you’all deserve this?

Golly-gee! The dystopia-ists who chronicled all this a century ago–because they already lived through it–Orwell, Huxley, etc.–are probably laughing their a$$es off just like me right now.

“But why are you laughing, worst-writer? You’re a f’n failure through and through!”

I’m laughing because, well, it’s hi-larry-us that I jumped ship because I knew as far back as the mid to late 1980s how that ship was sinking, the train-wreck was underway, and since then, in all my travels, I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting one American that actually made it beyond being a pawn in this the grand shit$how of greed.

Anywho.

I’ll be posting a follow-up pseudo-review of this book once I finish it.

Good night and good luck, suckers.

-Rant on

T

Links:
– NPR review 1 – https://www.npr.org/2017/06/18/531929217/democracy-in-chains-traces-the-rise-of-american-libertarianism
– NPR review 2 – https://www.npr.org/sections/ombudsman/2017/08/14/542634650/readers-rankled-by-democracy-in-chains-review
– NYT review – https://www.nytimes.com/2017/08/15/books/review/democracy-in-chains-nancy-maclean.html
– Glossary of Nazi Germany ‘U’ – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glossary_of_Nazi_Germany#U
– Ep. #467: Malcolm Nance, Nancy MacLean – Released Aug 04, 2018 Bill’s guests are Malcolm Nance, Nancy MacLean, Kristen Soltis Anderson, Charles Blow, and Steve Schmidt (Originally aired 08/03/18) | This show is available as audio podcast on iTunes | https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/ep-467-malcolm-nance-nancy-maclean/id98746009?i=1000417184062&mt=2

Myth Porn Or How I Learned To Dodge Jizz Bling Bling

viking myth blood eagle.jpg
The Blood Eagle. A depiction of sacrifice, burial or pre-barmizwa?

As stated here and here, dear worst-reader, I really dig the epic poem Beowulf. Reason? It’s a very telling story–and not just about times long past, don’t you know. Although difficult to read, especially the latter parts, it is truly a work of art that, once conquered, gives the feeling that one can somehow relate to what is depicted–in a literary sense, of course. But I suppose that’s what the written word does. Or?

Considering the popularity in recent years of various screen oriented story-telling that is not far flung from Beowulf, I’m wondering what writers of these pay-per-view TV shows are really thinking when they manufacture this stuff. For it is manufactured, isn’t it dear worst-reader? I’m referring, of course, to TV shows like Game of Thrones and Vikings. By-the-buy, I actually got through four seasons of GoT, don’t you know. Of course, after about three seasons I was already tired of watching it. I was tired, indeed, of the repetitiveness and stretchy-ness of every mis-continued episode. But since I had purchased the DVDs (second hand, of course) and ripped them to my home server, I thought: what the heck. And so. I have not seen, nor will I put any effort into watching any other season of GoT. Do you know why? That’s right, dear worst-reader. Once you’ve seen one episode you’ve practically seen them all. But let’s give credit where it’s due. Four seasons of GoT, baby. I did it.

Anywho.

After putting it off for sometime, I recently dabbled in the TV show Vikings. Reason? I had read a few things here or there or heard someone in a podcast talk about it. It is supposed to be a great show and everyone should watch it. The drama and story and the settings and the characters… bling bling. Even though the show is currently in it’s eighth season, I thought I’d give it a go from the beginning. And get this: Would you believe I got through eight and a half episodes of the first season within, like, three days? Well, it’s true. Eight and a half–ain’t that something akin to a Vikings’ lucky number? Oh wait. Dumba$$ Vikings didn’t even have numbers. Nomatter.

First, let me just put this out there: who watches this $hit?

Don’t get me wrong. As far as production value is concerned, Vikings (in the eight and a half episodes I could stomach) is much better than GoT. Also, Vikings (in eight and a half episodes) didn’t immediately turn me off because of the excess fantasy genre-krapp that, IMHO, is the ruin of GoT. But this post ain’t a comparison post. This is a rant. A rant, indeed, about what the fcuk do people think they are watching when they scatter their brains with this krapp? Oh wait. We’re living in porn-times, eh. Yeah, we are. Everything is “porn” now. There are shows and podcasts and video clips of people freaking out over cars, jet planes, cooking, sewing, fat asses with dollars stuck in fat cracks, and bling bling. The only difference to this krapp and real porn is that, heck, back in the day of real porn–let’s say 1980s porn–it was actually better than all this genre manufactured TV $hit.

Alone the shear glorification of violence is ludicrous. But how do the manufactures of this krapp compete with all the bling bling? That’s right. You turn it into porn. Seriously! After seven or eights episodes of Vikings–and also knowing a little bit about Norse Mythology–I decided to fast forward to the cumshots. So I resorted to YouTube to do some research. You know, on account the cumshots of 1980s porn was the best part. Alone the reaction of a woman receiving a man’s sword gluttony all over her face and, where applicable, she is enjoying it, on account she knows she ain’t gonna get knocked-up, is just downright cool. But on that note, I digress.

Now where was I?

Oh yeah.

The facial.

No.

Oh yeah.

The glorification of violence in the TV show Vikings is downright ludicrous. So I did a little search for “Viking TV show and death…” and behold, toot-sweet baby, I got a whole lot of hits of various slaughterings galore. It’s unbelievable not only how much but how death is portrayed in this TV show. But I guess it’s the same everywhere on TV. Or? I mean, all the killing on GoT was just as stupid. Like that idiotic fight between The Hound and that… yeah, Viking blond chick! Whaaaaaa! And what about all the super hero movies–most of which I can’t stand to watch anymore on account of stupid super hero capes and silly super hero pseudo-violence. You know–gotta appeal/sell it to the kids, right? No wonder the world is so fcuked up these days and a guy like $hitbag #Trump can become President Stupid of land of free to be stupid. But before I get too far off subject.

It’s not only the glorification of violence these shows hang out there. The show Vikings is a perversion of Norse Mythology dressed in a stupid-cloak. Indeed. We live in stupid times. For example. (Spoiler alert!) That “Blood Eagle” torture-death of whatever dip$hit English King in season… whatever. I mean, come on. Is there really verisimilitude in this depiction? I know. I know. You know it’s all just fiction. But do you really know that? Do you know that people watching this stuff, people that are glued to it, really know the difference between fiction and Norse Mythology? And if you do know it’s all fiction, is it possible that through so much bling bling, people will never put any effort into trying to get informed about how incestuous tribes of Northern Europe did what they had to do in order to survive–which had nothing to do with slaughtering defenceless priests with hi-larry-us hair-dos but instead they had to move south. In fact, that’s why/how the blonde hair, blue eyes got to Europe in the first place. It’s because all those inbred cocksuckers from the north could no longer survive when sisters and brothers kept bearing grapefruits as children. With that in mind, the first thing to know about Norse Mythology is that it is all about exaggeration. Indeed, dear worst-reader. Exaggeration galore–and a few glorious cumshots.

-Rant on

T

Misdirected Lyrics And The Ultimate Lie Of The #Americant Mind Long Run Amok

Another email exchange with an old friend.


To Worstwriter:

I’ve been reading a bit lately. Found this quote:

What’s more crazy than a bunch of people gathering each Sunday to sing and greet each other at the foot of an empty cross, the ancient equivalent of the electric chair?

Pretty good, eh.

Your old friend.


To dear old friend:

Oh, dear old friend, since you insist on quoting odd and perhaps mis-directed lyrics—especially without sourcing it—then you deserve yet another worst-writer response.

The analogy in your text is, of course, inaccurate and ultimately fails to convey, what can only be assumed, is its intended message: that people are witnessing a murder sanctioned by the state while worshipping a supernatural being. Obviously your lyricist is trying to compare modern day church-goers with people witnessing a capital punishment execution each time they go to their place of worship. Is then their place of worship an execution facility?

First, the cross, in and of itself, doesn’t represent a device used in capital punishment. There is evidence, for example, that Christ was crucified on a cypress tree. The exact location of that crucifixion, though, is unclear. But we do know, according to the gospels, that Christ was crucified outside Jerusalem’s walls, which means it is plausible a tree was used. Hence, a cross–or the image of two pieces of wood crossing each other, where the short, horizontal piece of wood almost sits atop the longer, vertical piece, has become the image of a living deity–is not an image of an execution. So. Is the cross valid when comparing it to the electric chair, especially when the man being murdered doesn’t really die? Or. Is state-sanctioned murder also a kind of sport for the stupid-of-mind, e.g. spectators of WWE, realityTV, republicans, modern day evangelical church goers, etc.?

Indeed.

Let’s go with the latter, shall we? You live among the truly Stupid in my beloved & missed #Americant. Now that Stupid has finally shown its true colours, its face, its whole being and thereby elected even more Stupid to the Presidency of the united mistakes of #Americant—most of this was made possible, by-the-buy, with the mindless influence of evangelicals—there might be some minds out there (your lyricist?) hearing new supernatural voices preaching the gospel of fcuking dumba$$ stupid idiot cocksuckers who can only earn money and do nothing else worthwhile–with their lives. And so. Little minded stupid people come up with ridiculous analogies in lyrics in order to circumvent their inner most thoughts compelling them to wake the fcuk up. And as usual, it will all fail un-graciously upward and up.

Anyway. I hate fcuking ignorant play-time lyricists.

T

-end email-


-Rant on

T

The Delete: Tweets

Ok. Maybe I jumped the gun.

Reactivated Twitter account and am employing tweet delete app. Not concerned about my tweets, btw. Just concerned about cleaning slates, desk, and wax out of ears.

Next delete? Sept 3 I have a dental appointment.

-Rant on

T

Heatwave, #Eurowasteland And How I Learned To Love Electric Shades

If you haven’t heard, dear worst-reader, #Eurowasteland is experiencing a pretty severe heatwave. Indeed. In all my years living among the Germans as a lost and useless-eating #Americant, I’ve never experienced it this hot for this long. Yesterday I measured 37.5°C (that’s almost a 100°F). That may not sound like much to you but considering the humidity in this area combined with a bit too much green through out the year… Seriously. I’ve been to dry heat areas. I can take 40° plus in India. I can even hang in summer-time Arizona. Northern Europe is different than all that–when climate goes nuts. The worst part about is that it’s been in and out of  30°C–plus or minus–since early July. Oh, how this reminds me of my youth on the eastern shore of Maryland and the grand and luscious Chesapeake Bay (that I miss dearly). July and August and September (and sometimes June and October) were unbearable with heat and humidity back then. But there was always something to fall back on. That’s right, dear worst-reader. We could at least get out of the heat and even sleep in modern air conditioning. Here, though, there ain’t no A/C. Instead, there are concrete walls, wood floors and lots and lots of electric shades. In fact, during the day, for the past few weeks, these shades are down all the time. Not until about 7pm can we open them. As you can see in the pics above, we live in a rather rectangular, three level flat. These pics are of the ground floor. Separating our relatively small but comfortable living room and the kitchen is an open, outdoor atrium with eight glass doors. It’s where we do all our out-door cooking (grilling) and fresh air patio-ing; it’s connected directly to the kitchen (not pictured). It’s kind of a nice layout once you get used to it–except when the sun becomes a barrel full of heat. And so. During mid-morning hours we lower the shades. It’s at that time I begin worst-writing and hoping that the devil-heat doesn’t overwhelm me.

-Rant on

T

PS I’m fully aware that my use and abuse of air conditioning in my youth is part of my suffering today. For that I am sorry. And although my neighbours are all buying plug-in A/C units, we’ve decided to just keep our shades lowered.