Tag: Capitalism

For Believers And Conventionalists: May Capitalist Ideology Choke Grandmas, Puppies And Butter Your Nuts

The will to survive driven by convention. The lack of intellect culled by fear. The rearing of nation states reached its nadir. Welcome to your Dollar Dictatorship. 

Ok. I’ve been having some correspondence problems of late. A dear old friend of mine–who is an advocate of the lie that is capitalism–and I have a general disagreement on what this nonsense is all about. He seems to think that capitalism is about free markets and the exchange of goods and services. To a certain point I agree with him. But what happens when that point has long been circumvented or surpassed? According to some (intellectuals) capitalism has only one direction that it can go. If that’s true, ultimately that direction leads to where we are today. The only question remaining is: where can it go from here?

Below is my response to an email sent by my old friend who thinks, perhaps, he might have one-upped me regarding my dilettante and hap-hazard defeatism that has made me worst-writer about anything pseudo capitalist. My old friend’s original email follows toot-suite.

Dear Old Friend:

Thanks much for your correspondence. Looks like you’ve really hit a (my) button with this one. So let’s go there, shall we?

1. Source of your article? Is there a link to what you’re quoting? Who is it from?
2. There is no complexity in capitalism. There is also no such thing as a free market in capitalism allowed to run amok. There are only winners and losers and corruption. This is sometimes referred to as Haves and Have-Nots. Of course, there is the more jovial and #Americant republican twist known as: The Haves and The Have-Mores. That’s it. Btw, which one are you? I know which one Tommy is.
3. The thing that is desperately failed to be understood is that Tommy is a capitalist. The somewhat malicious and slanderous attempt to categorise Tommy as something that he is not is at best humorous, although the proverbial punchline has been missed. This is the reason why conservatives (or libertarians) are not funny, btw. What most conventional minds fail to grasp in even a superficial evaluation is how one-sided capitalism is and/or has become. “Why does it have to be so one-sided?” In other words, why are there so few losers among the Haves and Have-Mores of this so-called capitalism. And what about all those bailouts? This is perhaps part of what motivates questions Tommy asks, albeit questions not transcribed by a conventional mind.
The stuff you include in your email is gibberish and atypical of a mind that is born and bread in conventionalism disguised as, perhaps, editorial. This is also the result of a mind drowned in propaganda and newspeak (you might want to look up “newspeak”). The purest and most successful form of this anti-intellectualism is the political conservative mindset that is the reason for #Trump, faux-newz, and a whole bunch of morons that think they actually did something to become a Have in a world of so many Have-Nots. This mindset, this way of thinking (or lack there of) is the reason so much nonsense has been spewed over networks and media for the past 30 yrs—which corresponds to the social and economic turmoil that is the Dollar Dictatorship (not Dollar Capitalism) the world is experiencing today. Include in that an education system that tries to teach economics…? Nuff said.
If, on the other hand, you happen across this type of material because your subconscious is in need of clarity to the inherent chaos caused by conventionalism, I would suggest you read/dabble in Das Capital by Karl Marx. And don’t worry. You only have to read book 1. Book 2 and 3 are based on notes and unfinished writings that Fredrick Engels put together after Marx’s death.
Good luck with that.
Rant on.
-T
And here’s my dear old friend’s motivating email:

Dear Tommy aka worst-writer,

I was reading an article that had some valid points with respect to “capitalism” and the attitudes of those who trounce just about every aspect of it, finding nothing but fault without understanding the complexity of the system and how it works (which is nearly impossible for any individual by the way).

  • “The peculiarity of successful free market capitalism is that it has generated enough prosperity that it enables to be sustained an entire segment of the population who are able to devote themselves simply to the pursuit and propagating of ideas. They include schoolteachers, college and university professors, authors of “serious” and “popular” journals, magazines and newspapers, books and Tommy’s.
  • “When a writer of a newspaper or magazine article or editorial piece, says at some point that “critics” or “experts” say, invariably among them are “the Tommy’s” whose role in the division of labor is to interpret, analyze, and challenge the ways things are and how they might otherwise be for the better. Most such Tommy’s, if one is frank and direct, have lived in “ivory towers” of academia and the general informational media a good part or even all of their lives. They know little or nothing about the actual day-by-day working of a business, meeting a bottom line to meet an enterprise’s employee payroll, or the need to focus on the consumer satisfactions of others to avoid a loss and maybe earn a profit.
  • “Their knowledge of “capitalism” is usually derived, and sometimes exclusively, from reading the earlier and other contemporary critics of the market economy. Businessmen are “exploiters” of workers, “plunderers” of the planet, the greedy “cutthroats” who would sell their own mother for an extra margin of profit, and who reduce all of human life to a financial bottom line. They care nothing for “society,” and make their employment decisions based on racist and misogynist prejudices and biases.
  • “This cultivates an arrogance and hubris in many such Tommy’s, the “social critics” of the human condition, that if only they were in charge or if their advice was followed by those holding the reins of political power and decision-making, how much better could the world be made.
  • And, third, de Jouvenel, said, there is the implicit resentment by many Tommy’s that the market economy places them at a disadvantage. What is that disadvantage? That the market rewards people for catering to the everyday, “lower” wants of the uninformed and manipulated consumers, rather than they, the Tommy’s, who devote their lives to the “big ideas” – the beautiful, the just, the good, the better – but who have little or none of the recognition or income of the billionaire businessmen who has made his fortune by persuading easily manipulated homeowners that they really needed his “designer” bathroom sink faucet.  How morally depraved that the man who could have been the world’s next great music composer has to lower himself to earn a living in the market economy writing catchy television commercial jingle songs.
  • “Do not want to own your fortune, they want you to lose it; they do not want to succeed, they want you to fail; they do not want to live, they want you to die; they desire nothing, they hate existence.”

-end-

Hey Comrade! My School Of Greed Is Gonna Kick Your School Of Greed’s A$$

capitalism crisis deepens richard wolff

In order to cope with the two Ms (monotony & mendacity) of growing up in Suburban Hell of my beloved #Americant, I participated–at the duress of my broken family–in two organised sport activities. One of those activities was tennis. And, if I recall correctly, I was actually ranked within the top-100 players of my state during the tennis season of which I participated. Of course, let it be known, I couldn’t serve worth a hoot. Yet I was “ranked”. Yea, that says a lot about organised sports back then–long before the inheriting, under-achieving classes came to be what they’ve become and thereby given us #Trump. But I digress.

The second sport I participated in was Football. And I don’t mean football of the round ball kind. I played American football–where the ball is the proper shape. The reason for the shape? When that ball flies through the air it is either a bullet or a duck–and you better know what you’re doing when it comes your way. And so… There is clarity in (some) sports, dear worst-reader. That clarity is in how a ball can fly like a bullet through the sky.

Although I did participate in a few other sports here and there, e.g., lacrosse, baseball, wrestling, fencing and girls, football is the one that stands out the most in my worst-memory. Ask me if I regret wasting my time on it, I do. Then again, the sport did teach me a bit about participating with others in a so-called “team”. It really is a shame how my beloved #Americant (sport) and her cult of the entrepreneur (the team) have warped the idear of the game in recent years. “Team” for me had a different meaning once. That was the only thing worthwhile about playing football. No a total waste, that is.

Now get this: I learned a few other things while playing American football. For example, my coach used to tell us when we were doing the cardio portion of our daily practice–and we watched those soccer guys in the field next to us run like gazelles all day–that soccer is a game for communists. Can you believe that, dear worst-reader? Here’s how you teach youngsters–back in the day:

Whaaaa’ da heel kaind ah spo’art is it anywho if’n you caint use yer damn hands? It’s a communist spo’art, I tail yee. Dats zackly wha’ it eezz. Damn darn communists! -My Coach

My coach added something about balls shouldn’t be perfectly round anyway. “Nothing is perfect. Check your own,” he said. Of course, being the prepubescent worst-writer I was, during the last two years of wasting mind and body playing football, I actually believed that soccer players were communists. Heck, when I approached some of the guys on the soccer team, I would even ask them:

Say, Comrade, hoist any sickle and spades lately?

But. Again. I digress.

All this worst-talk about communists brings me to my latest read. It is a book by Comrade Richard Wolff. Comrade Wolff is a “professor of economics”. Comrade Wolff has a somewhat interesting presence on the Interwebnets, too. Much of his work can be found at http://www.democracyatwork.info and he even has a monthly podcast called Economics Update where he talks about all things-worst (man to occupy my heart) in this world of capitalism run amok.

At first I didn’t think much about reading this book. There was/is enough of/from Comrade Wolff online already. But then something he said itched me. That itch was Wolff’s academic POV of all-things economic. Better put, he writes and talks a lot about economics as though… Now hold a sec. Get ready for it. Sit down if you got a weak ticker.

Comrade Wolff talks about economics as if it is science.

Now. Did you get that? Let me repeat it just in case, dear worst-reader. According to worst-writer, economics ain’t no science. Instead it is (should be) an academic field within The Arts. But let’s not get too far off the issue of what itches me.

There is one topic that Comrade Wolff keeps comping back to over and over: He is obsessed with the pseudo economic science of Greece and Germania. That’s the real reason I broke down and bought this book. It’s also the reason I read it over a two month period. It’s not that it is hard to read. It is. It’s just that it is boring, too. Boring as boring can be. Boring as wrongly placed academia can be. But then again, so too are all things that try to be scientific that should instead be artsy. And guess what happened after I finally finished the book? Comrade Wolff’s obsession with Greece and Germania is still a mystery to me. Gosh darn it! I hate it when I pick the wrong friggin book!

Allow me to summarise my issue (itch) with Comrade Wolff’s obsession. Comrade Wolff says that Germania is a locomotive. He also says that Greece is a caboose. In case you’re unaware, the caboose is at the back of a choo-choo-train. A caboose is a special, single car that in olden times served as a kind of housing facility for those who worked on the train as it crossed landscapes. And so… Germania is the front of the train and Greece… Well, ok, you get the metaphor.

Btw, if you were to ask me why I expatriated to the EU my third1 most important reason for doing so would be because of the fascination of witnessing the catastrophe that is an effort to unite something that should never be united as though it were a train crossing some heartily confused landscape. Either that or I am a freak for Schadenfreude?

In #Eurowasteland where the choo-choo-train metaphor can only go so far, that which determines everything… Is the fcuking caboose. -worst-moi after living in this Euro shithole for the last 25 yrs.

Now wait a sec. Comrade Wolff says it another way. Here, try this (pseudo-paraphrase):

The #Eurowasteland caboose is literally a fcuk machine that rides the train. The train is made up of voyeur, perverted nation-states that like gawking at the fcuk-car from the back. And who’s the biggest voyeur of them all? That’s right…

Fcuking Germans!

In his podcast Economic Update I’ve listened to Comrade Wolff lambast the Germans because Greece is an economic disaster. That is, Greece is a disaster, according to Wolff, because of the Germans. IMHO, Comrade Wolff is wrong. Greece’s problems have nothing to do with Germans. Greece has problems because of Greeks. Comrade Wolff likes to focus on banks and bankers and how they take advantage of European pions–all of which is lead by dastardly Germans.

Whaaaaaa?

Worst-writer’s explanation of the Greece problem is much simpler–and much clearer. To paraphrase the great oral tradition now being propagated by #Americants in the form of #Trump: Europe is a shithole and it’s full of shiteaters.

That’s Greece’s problem.

In order to understand Greece and thereby the entirety of #Eurowasteland, aka, Greedland, all one has to do is look at what Europe has given the world. From the Bronze Age to the Renaissance and beyond, we can all thank Europe for mass, systematic, unadulterated greed. Luckily, in recent times, there has been something done to try and mitigate this great gift.

Since WW2 (or maybe it was WW1–who the fcuk is counting?) Europe’s gift to the world has been split into two schools of thought. There is the Anglo-American school (of greed) and there is the Germanic school (of greed). If one looks at the social and political structures of the various confused nations that make up Greedland–from locomotives to the cabooses–it’s easy differentiating between these two schools of greed. It’s also easy to figure out who’s the bigger or biggest Schadenfreud-ist.

Let’s summarise, shall we?

Greece is, out of choice, part of the Anglo-American school (of greed). It is failing miserably as a nation-state because of this choices. Therefore it doesn’t matter if Greece were in the EU, off the coast of the UK or stuck somewhere between Alabama and Montana. Because of its choices, Greece is where it is today. More importantly it doesn’t matter who or what state bank leant money to whom. Greece would be where it is no matter where it was at the end of any train–considering how it has traversed the landscape. Btw, most of southern Europe is failing in the same way as Greece. Those countries too have chosen the Anglo-American greed $hitshow. Which begs the question: Is there enough space at the end of the shit-train for all these fcuking cabooses?

And now for the other school of greed.

Pause. Oh God. Brace Yourself. Here it comes.

Those fcuking Krauts.

The Germania school of greed is not about Germans of old. Can you imagine how things would be if they still wore those stupid, pointy helmets and everybody was named Gunter Leckmichamarsch? No. We’re dealing with new Germans here. And these new Germans got a few things up their slimy sleeves, don’t you know. That’s right. The slime is the one thing that was never defeated in any of those dumba$$ wars, don’t you know. In fact, most of northern Europe likes the slime that is in the German sleeve. Hence northern stoic Europe, compared to the lazy south, is doing just fine. With that in mind, what’s your favourite school of greed?

One shouldn’t look at the caboose to see how the $hitshow train is running. Also, Greece is too minuscule to use as an example of the failures of capitalism. The fact that old Greeks have hoarded everything and thereby practically choked the country to death doesn’t make it an example of what or what not to do. It might just be better (easier) to focus more on human nature–which transcends all of the above–even Comrade Wolff. Again: economics is not science.

Then again, Greece is a good example for something else. Capitalism is nature’s best system for dealing with greed. For Comrade Wolff and so many others like him, everything is easier to decipher when lumped together and thrown into one basket. I guess that’s why I prefer artsy over science (science being the basket). Even though I can sympathise with some of Comrade Wolff’s ranting and raving against capitalism–for I’ve given Marx’s Das Capital a glance or three–he doesn’t really offer any viable alternative other than what all others offer: scapegoating.

Anywho. As usual, I’m off subject. This was supposed to be a quick worst-post about Comrade Wolff’s book:

Capitalism’s Crisis Deepens: Essays on the Global Economic Meltdown.

Wanting to understand Comrade Wolff’s POV regarding Greece was the reason I decided to give this book a read. (Un)fortunately this book only substantiates my belief that economics is a pseudo-science.

And so…

Is there an alternatives to the greed $hitshow (capitalism) we’re all living in today? If so, it’s not in this collection of essays. And. NO! Coops and workers taking over the system isn’t an alternative–which is mostly what Comrade Wolff proposes. If, on the other hand, you’re still kind of suffering from the duck-and-cover trauma of the 60s and 70s and hard-up on avoiding all things communist, then you don’t need to read this book. With that in mind, I’m gonna continue checking the Interwebnets for whatever Comrade Wolff has to offer. Who knows. If he keeps at it, he might figure out an alternative someday.

Good luck with that, Comrades.

Rant on.

-T

  1. I’m sure the first and second can be found somewhere at worstwriter.com ↩︎

Time To Celebrate Europe With French Vote? Not. Time For Some Lily Livered Lefties.

FDR Stahlin Churchill

What has #eurowasteland done for you lately, dear worst-reader? Well, the answer is simple. Nothing. Or. Put another way. At least it hasn’t given us another fcuking world war.

It behooves me to say something about recent farcical election in France–that so many are comparing to the recent farcical election of my beloved #americant but because of the results consider France’s a godsend. The problem for these and all current iterations of the acts of democracy is that Macron’s election is nothing if not a win for the status quo, i.e. political conservatism. That’s not to say that I was rooting for Le Pen. It’s just that, if anyone actually believes that Macron is gonna do anything to deal with what’s going on in Europe (the entire western world) right now… Come on.

As I noted in one of my previous worst-posts, I love France. Even though I live in the Germania partition of the joke that is #eurowasteland, France is my true love. Humanity owes a great debt to France becuase of what it did to useless eating monarchs. And let me not get started on monarchs! The fact that they are still around… And so. Here’s the thing about the sodom & gamorrah that we live in today:

Why is it when the down cylce of capitalism reaches this point, as it inevitably always does, there’s only one example in (our) history of (political) liberalism winning over conservatism to come out and save the day?

According to the krapp I’ve read about our history, that is, the result of the history that has made this greed-suck-world we are all forced to live in, only FDR stands out as an example of someone who saved the day? That’s right, dear worst-reader. FDR, who was not necassarily a liberal politician, realised during the great depression that there was only one way to fix things. Tax the fcuking rich! Ok. Ok. Did he stop America from entering the European war theatre? No. But, again, he taxed the fcuking rich and told them:

If you don’t pay they will come. They are standing outside your (rich) door right now with pitch forks and guillotines. They carry with them communism, socialism, the collective society that you and your faux newz fantasy despise. And if you let them win by gauging them of every last drop of their labor, you’re doomed–perhaps not unlike King Louis. And so my fellow rich brethren of European lore…

Indeed. FDR saved capitalism from the threat it had become (to itself). Of course, to payback the children of the capitalists that lost because of their game that culminated in The Great Depression, FDR graciously won WW2 and thereby supplanted Europe as a world power. By-the-bye, the children and grand-children of those loser capitalists are still running my beloved #americant today. Yeah, baby. We have become what we defeat–and then some.

Which brings me to this worst-post’s worst-question: whether it’s in my beloved US with comb-over-chief #Trump or the joke-island of Brexit, why is it that the movers & shakers of politics now ALL come from the extreme right of the political spectrum?

Link that motivated this post:

Rant on.

-t

 Who Has Sold You

louis cypher the grand salesman
Screenshot of Louis Cypher. The man who could sell you a soul at a really great price. The American soul.
Schadenfreude is not my thing. Nor do I wish any one ill-will. Live and let others live better–that’s my motto. But there are times, moments, where I giggle and smirk at the goings and cummings of my beloved #americant and of those still trapped in all (her) confused greed-dollar-tendrils. On the other hand, of course, I don’t laugh out loud at what happens within those tendrils. That would be rude. Or would it? Actually, when I rehash it all in my head, I guess it wouldn’t be rude. I mean, all things considered, what is “rude” these days? A bubble world in which the participant’s lives are determined by the behavior of all participants–hence compulsive behaviorism, corporatism, cronyism, etc. It means that eventually there will/can be no difference between rude and not rude. Which brings me once again to The Donald. I can’t remember that last time I travelled to my beloved #americant and found so much excitement when turning on the boob-tube. I am, you know, a cord-cutter. But when I’m in America I can’t help but turn on the boob-tube. Obviously I’m not alone. The boob-tube runs twenty-four-seven here. Or? §Usually when I’m in the united mistakes I check the news, maybe see if tits are showing somewhere on HBO, or, at the least, bear witness to the cummings and doings of faux newz so that I may continuing standing on my limited raised pillar that keeps me a head above the rest. The good thing is, the rudeness can’t stop with The Donald or his adherents. Which means there will be entertainment forevermore. The bad thing is, as The Donald overwhelms the airwaves (and the fragile minds of the dumb-downed via ever higher levels of rudeness), there are so many other examples of why/how things are so so so bad. Or are they not so bad? Does rude equal bad? Obviously not. So. Are things good? Has my beloved #americant caught the curve, beat the bear around the last turn, sucked it up? I certainly don’t know. I’m only here for a few painstaking days then its up up and away eh in my beautiful balloon. I have to return my expat comfort where I have never seen a doctor bill, a dental bill, a psyche bill. Of all my gold fillings, none of them are ear-marked by a creditor or bank controlled location beacon. I most certainly don’t have to worry about the same beacon being put in the car that you will never own–volunteering as an indentured servant. But I’m off subject–as usual. This post is supposed to be about the articles below. About the people in the articles below. Who are these people? What are these people? Where do they come from? Where are they going? The simple answer is thus: America. The complex answer is thus: Money is God. Or maybe not. Need I mention the simple fact that the united mistakes of #americant is not only the sole perpetrator of giving the world a middle class but now it’s also the one to take that middle class away. Indeed. And don’t get me wrong. I could give a rats ass about the middle class. Seriuosly. Fuck it and fuck all those who adhere to it. I mean, hell, the middle class is where I was reared. I have seen all it has to offer. I have seen it naked and puking and defacating upon its mothers and its children–having convinced its prey that what it’s doing is Disney World. The middle class is the ugly picture of white men of Euro-heritage. They are perverts and simpletones who have found a way to rule the world. All because they prey on the fear of those who might wake to the true reality of their Disney World. Which means, in my worst-mind, in my worst-fantasy, the American middle-class should be left somewhere on the side of the road so that it may wither away or become the homeless it deserves to be and then, like us all, finally, finally, fucking die. Or maybe not. I mean. Why bitch & moan & rant. Why should any white man die? Someone has to survive. Survive this experiment in greed and idiocracy. Survive so that a child can sit on a perverts lap and wish for everything in the world as the tree gleams of snow white and her seven owned dwarfs. Which brings me once again to The Donald. The ultimate white man. The ultimate Santa. Yet even I, dear worst-reader, underestimated the size of the lust from which The Donald has emerged. Lust, you say, dear worst-writer? Yes, lust, dear worst-reader. For what is lust? Well, lust is what we all try desperately to fulfill as though it was the empty bucket that is our minds and our souls. The #americant dream, baby. Or. If you prefer, dear worst-reader, check out the articles below. Check out the personalities featured in them. Here we have the top of crop. The entrepreneurs. The college educated. College drop-outs. Those who are driven. Yes. Those who are driven. Look at what they do. Look at what they sell. Look closely. Look at who taught them. OYG! Good luck suckers. Rant on. -Tommi

Links that motivate this post:

In Praise Of Dr. Capital And His Ism

Special leg room economy class
Got kinda lucky the other day. Extra leg room in economy class. Along side some good conversation.

Disclaimer: Names and some of the issues discussed but not places referred to have been changed in this blogpost to protect the innocent. §I told him right before we exited the plane at the terminal in PHL that I found our open and at times heavy inflight conversation fascinating. And then I thanked him with as much sincerity as I could muster and I put my hand out. Indeed. I was a bit flushed, a bit embarrassed, it was a long flight. §But before that, a bit on the travel. Flying over the Atlantic I sat in row 18D, the aisle. My new soon to be friend sat next to me inside the row at seat 18F. We were on LH426, an Airbus A340, departure Frankfurt, Germany. My new friend was connecting from Beirut. He was on his way back to school, and not just any school. He attended The University of Pennsylvania and during our conversation took the time to school me on Ivy League. But, wait, I wanted to worst-write about the plane. §We were on a discontinued Airbus—not unlike how a company may discontinue making a vacuum cleaner or a toaster. It seems that the airline manufacturing industry is getting away from four engine planes. Yet Airbus seems to have put a lot of their hopes in the A380, the successor of our A340. I had the pleasure of flying an A380 a few years back while traveling from Bangkok to Dubai. “Big” doesn’t begin to explain the size of this aircraft. But, as some people tend to note, size doesn’t matter. I’m not one of those people. I prefer the size of the greatest plane ever made: the 747. The problem is, last I read, Boeing hasn’t sold a 747 in two years. Everybody who is still fyling four engines buy the A380. But that’s another post. Oddly, or not, our A340 had a strange seating configuration. First, the cabin had no seats labelled E. Is that the same as skyscrapers not having floors labelled 13? Is the letter E a skeptical, mystical, ghostly letter? Second. The reason for the odd seating configuration–beyond the letter E–was due to the seats directly in front of me. Unfortunately I didn’t capture it in the pic above. But because the seats are from Lufthansa’s new premium economy class, which look like a cheap subset of business class seats. There are only three seats in the middle row and compared to sheople economy they are roomy as hell. Row 18 is where regular economy begins. Hence the pic shows the extra leg space I lucked out in getting. Oh. How ’bout those shoe laces! Ok. Enough about the plane. §On this 8 hour transatlantic flight I sat next to an ivy league grad student who just finished a semester in the middle east learning Arabic. If I had to place this kid somewhere to be able to size him up, I’d place him right in the middle of Occupy Wall Street–even though his elite demeanor could have placed him somewhere else. He wore his beard well, he exuded privilege, and he clearly had a big heart. And since I was sitting next to a millennial, I couldn’t help but be curious, the more and more we talked, about how his generation is destined to be the first generation that will end up in the historic dustbin named: wrong place, wrong time. Whatever. §After we reached cruising altitude and got our first round of cocktails, our transatlantic conversation started when I asked about the type of iPhone he was using. I was planning on getting a new iPhone once I landed where I would cross the border from PA to DE. DE has no retail tax, which means when purchasing the phone without contract you can save fifty friggin’ bucks. That started us talking about technology, Apple Computer and the legacy of Steve Jobs. It turns out we are both fanboys. He was impressed when I told him that my Apple experience goes back to owning two Newton devices. Eventually, though, it was inevitable that he notice how I used certain terminology combined with a cynical bent in most of what I had to say when it came to any discussion that required either depth or emotion. For example, he took notice of me using the term The Homeland whenever talking about the US. He also noticed how I always praise corporations for turning automatons into the consume-to-survive slaves occupy wall streeters didn’t know they were protesting against. And then there was the issue of the patriot act and the subsequent government expansion under the Dubya administration that rivalled the government expansion of FDR. Alone this act is a major determining factor for the welfare of millennials–and I don’t think, after this conversation, they are aware of that. Which means, it never crossed my new friend’s mind to refer to his world as Disney World, i.e., the united mistakes of America, or… The Homeland. Obviously, dear worst-reader, talking about Apple always leads to talk about politics, policy and #americant. With it all the company would never be the greed monger monster its become. Which brings me to another worst-writer term that caused him to blink more than thrice. §My young friend was sharp. I wish I was as experienced in and of the world at twenty-three. In order to cool down a potentially heated debate—during sleep-time of the flight—he wanted to know why I referred to it as The Homeland. I responded thus: “I also call it #americant.” (Pronounced: hashtag-american’t.) But he wanted to focus on The Homeland. This gave me the opportunity to switch from the frivolity of Steve Jobs—and his drug-ridden tech delusions and obsessions—to a subject that was closer to my heart: talking about the downfall of… we’re #1. Or, at least, the downfall of the pseudo middle class that is as much at fault as the upper class for all the demise. But the young collegiate whipper-snapper was not very enthusiastic about the subject matter. I can only assume that was due to his youthful optimism–which is a much his bent as mine is cynicism. This brought us to the issue of education and not because he was right in the middle of it. “Education serves no purpose, it is pretty much useless these days,” I said. “Look at The Homeland and how it’s run,” I continued, closing off his attempt at rebuttal. “All the managers, executives, pawns, automatons, etc., they are all higher educated. From the president, to cabinet members, to CEOs, the middle class, all educated to the hilt. Yet the only thing they have learned is how to cheat, lie, steal and cheat again. Where does that come from?” My young friend would not be disillusioned. He believed whole heartily in the American way of life albeit without considering how it got that way. For him–and I can only assume this was due to his proximity to one of #americants most notorious neo-liberal business schools–American capitalism was in turmoil but there was a way out (of that turmoil). And then I added, “You know, dear grasshopper, Das Volk can’t differentiate between politics and economics. That’s a real problem. It’s one of the reasons I call it #americant. Seriously. It cant differentiate. Cant. Cant. It’s not Ameri… can.” (Short pause.) “So it doesn’t matter,” I said. “Capitalism isn’t only in turmoil it is the essence of being American–and it doesn’t even exist. There is a difference between capitalism being an economic system and democracy being a political one.” (Shorter pause.) “Btw, get this, it’s almost 2016 and where I’m about to go after we land there are still front yards with “Bush/Cheney” signs on them, not to mention all the polished bumper-stickers bearing the same nonsense.” My little friend got a word in. He said that he was aware of the twisted politics in America. But then he added that regulation could somehow prevent a lot of the turmoil. Regulation? Yeah, he said regulation. A young man from an ivy league school used, with utmost sincerity, the word regulation in the context of a discussion about how to change the world. The only response I could come up with was to s
mirk and show-off more cynicism. Indeed. My cynicism vs youthful twisted optimism–regarding capitalism. And so, for a few hours of the flight we went down that road–we talked about capitalism, Marx and how it all can be fixed–with regulation. And I couldn’t help but notice that there was this growing monster in the form of a pseudo neo liberal from the Wharton School of Business. To say the least, worstwriter was freaking out about the youth that will assume the roll of rulers of a world I wasn’t about to consider leaving. (Unless, of course, a terrorist act takes us down. But I digress.) Somehow I couldn’t help but connect our talk about capitalism with education. “Look what these places of higher education have given us,” I said in a demanding way. He responded with the names of Wharton alumni. Which brought me ’round to The Donald who was business schooled there. Indeed, this young whipper snapper might be a study in the confusion of neo-liberalism and drunken optimism–devoid of reality. §With that I’ll end this worst-post. Except for one last thought. When we landed and were about to depart the aircraft we said our goodbyes. I introduced myself as worstwriter and he smirked unsurprisingly. Then he introduced himself as Dr. Robert Ism Capital. And with that, I entered Pennsylvania and it was good to be home.

Rant on.

-Tommi

US White Males And A Flat Earth Worth Jumping Off

US white males dying large
Red line USW=US white males age 45-54. Source below.

Got caught in a rut the other night while trying to find my new girlfriend who is named Sleep. A heroic bitch she is and I don’t know if my love for her is worth the effort. For as we all know love is an effort. For example, how many kisses have you wasted on Sleep this day? That’s why, historically speaking, marriage is the way out. Or is it jumping off the edge? Yeah, jumping off the edge sounds better. At the least, since we live in a flat world, wouldn’t that be a better way out than trying to circumnavigate a round world where we invent marriage and toasters? But I digress. §As the rut deepened in my search for Fräulein Sleep the following thought crossed my mind: if the world was flat then I could jump off the edge and race my burdens to the bottom. Then again, when I hit that bottom will I have to (eventually) jump off another edge? There are surely Fraüleins on any new shelf we jumped to. Either that or I should focus on a way to get to Fr. Sleep through other means. But enough about me and my frivolous joys and tantrums. §Check out the article below. Of all the negativity that I live for, for all the pessimism that gives me joy, finding an article about a subject matter like this should rock my world. Rock me right into Fr. Sleep. But it doesn’t. And the reason it doesn’t has nothing to do with the fact that I’m only partly in the demographic that the article deals with. Indeed. So let’s go there. §There is an alarming increase in death rates of US white males between the age of 45 and 54. These days rates are attributable to substance abuse and suicide. Gee. When I read such stuff I giggle and smirk. The giggle is because I have an advantage above and beyond this demographic. For you see, dear worst-reader, at 52–about to turn 53–there is an obvious advantage to being only half white. I smirk at this article because, well, I saw it all coming thirty friggin’ years ago! No. Seriously. When I left the (your) Homeland so many years ago (before it was called Homeland; when it was still mostly a country), my departing words, shed with a few tears, were: I will miss you very much but I won’t miss the madness and the madhouse. Now look at you. Indeed. I left the madness and its house and I have been staring back at what I’ve done ever since. But it was the only way out–the only way to rid myself the flat world that raised me. So I went to its edge and I jumped. And guess where I landed. I landed on another flat plain where the edge doesn’t call for me as abruptly and the wine is better, the beer is better, the food is better–but the grass ain’t greener. Seriously. Am I the only one to have seen this coming? To have seen the madness of the madhouse take over the show with the sole purpose of widening the horizons of being mad. Death of my peers, my compatriots, my fellow Federalists, comrades. By the millions you die because you can’t see through the prick of your heroin needles, the gulp of another bottle of rye or the leap from the tall building you mistake as an edge. No one saw this coming. Except me. Death in a world made of nothingness has to be the consequence of nothingness and life run amok. Or? I suppose if one propels death to higher levels, i.e. putting a price on life (living standard) and make one live be the objects that kill (the war machine + economic conscription = the only way out of poverty) this is what must come. Especially now, or at least since 2007 AD (the great recession), since there is even less than nothingness to fall back on. And with that nonsense in mind, good luck suckers. Rant on. -tommi

Links that motivated this post: