If You Can’t Manage It Or Pay For It Then It’s Time To Burn It (As In Down) To Make Sure You Still Win

capitalism_not_quite

What do most children do when confronted about lying? Indeed. They lie. I suppose parents who teach those kids not to lie are doing the right thing. But isn’t the real reason why the kids lie in the first place the more pertinent issue? Then again, is the real reason anyone lies ever addressed? The only thing that is addressed is the act of lying. I reckon that’s the whole point of having a legal system, eh. Wait. Confused. Start again.

The thing that bugs me most about this fcuked up world I’m supposed to live in is capitalism’s one-way street. In my worst-opinion, I think capitalism would work much better if it were a two-way street. On top of that, I hate the idear of corporations, i.e. the mechanisation of capitalism and how they pretty much directly rule the world. But don’t get me wrong, dear worst-reader. I do actually like capitalism and don’t mind the fact that a corporation’s purpose is to seek out profit. But here’s the thing…

What do you do when profit becomes your lie? What do you do when the people of a corporation–or perhaps even all of capitalism–collectively lie? It’s hard to detach yourself from profit, from a salary, from the very foundation that is your existence, eh. Here is where a two-way street would he helpful. Not only is today’s capitalism a one-way street but it’s also enabled by people who have unlearned what mothers tried to teach them. Oh, the motivation of money. Oh, the motivation of a compliant legal system. The motivation of a mother’s false love. Etc.

Having just scanned a few articles about diesel cars (which I’ve touched upon here before) and egg contamination, a worst-thought ran through me-mind. The best form of lying in order to make profit and/or exploit others for profit, has to be the insurance industry. The insurance industry, unlike manufacturing, war-profiteering or medicine, relies solely on lying in order to make profit (or even exist). The whole concept of hedging ones risk, which is the intellectuals definition of insurance, is based on fraud from the get-go. Or am I totally into worst-writer territory here? With that in mind, is it such a long-shot to assume, just as individuals self-preserve with insurance fraud, that corporations and perhaps even the whole of capitalism itself, would/could do the same?

The diesel emission scandal, for example. How is it that after all these years of profiting from diesel engines, suddenly car makers are being called out for lying about emissions? How is that millions upon millions of chickens lay even more millions of eggs per day and suddenly, out of the blue, as though no one ever managed the chickens or the eggs, the eggs are contaminated? Btw, was the billions of dollars used to bail out banks in 2008 (and GM in 2009) anything different than an insurance claim? Wait. Perhaps that’s going too far.

Through the miracle of self-preservation, which drives individuals to commit insurance fraud–by setting fire to their houses or cars in the hopes of big insurance claim payouts–isn’t it possible that egg makers and car makers would resort to the same tactic to cover the losses caused by not only their blatant lying but also their $hitty management skills? The payout being corporate tax breaks for the losses they will claim. Again, after all these years of producing diesel engines, it’s just now being noticed how much $hit and filth those engines spew into the air? Or could the real (true) issue be that those who manage car makers haven’t managed the whole shebang very well and there’s simply too many of these cars that they can’t sell (exorbitant surplus)? The real problem is that corporations today are run by little $hit kids with über college degrees who never learned to tell the truth because they either had no mommies or their mommies are just as stupid as they are. Or better yet. It’s time to finally blame mommies for not letting their sons become just plan old $hit kicker, redneck, hate filled cowboys–or dentists.

Good luck suckers.

-T

Links that motivated this post:

The Not-So-Great Re-Read Of Someone’s History Re-Told Or How Greed Has Made Your $hitshow

a peoples history - howard zinn

A pseudo-review of this book is here. I recently felt compelled to re-read it. Reason? Something has stuck in my head for the last few years based on something I read about this book a few years back. I can’t remember who wrote it–or maybe it was something I even heard someone say–but it went something like this: A People’s History of the United States by Howard Zinn is a book of propaganda.

Whaaaaa? Propaganda?–I thought and thought and thought.

How can such a book be propaganda? All this book does is tell a certain side of a story in a certain way–regarding the history of the United States. It is a point-of-view of the history of the United States. Or? After re-reading it recently, though, especially in the aftermath of the #Trump election that is an abomination, and what’s going on in Charlottesville, VA, I finally realised what someone could mean when making the claim that Zinn’s book is propaganda. And in that vein, allow me to worst-elaborate as only worst-writer can.

My favourite parts of this book are the chapters that cover the history of the US from the Civil War to the end of WW2. I’ve always thought that this time period has determined what #americant is today. In essence, between 1865 to 1945 the United States finally cut the umbilical cord to Europe and set out on its own–as a small rodent prodigy. Luckily, that rodent prodigy, via the genetic and historical proximity of its birth, was endowed with two things that would determine THE future of the western world.

  1. It was born with a really big cock and
  2. It was born with a really little brain.

Coincidentally, such a combination, in order to grow, needed two more things.

  1. Lots of fcuking (see/hear “American Woman” by Lenny Kravitz!) and
  2. something to busy its little mind.

I know. I know, dear worst-reader. Fcuking and thinking haven’t proven to be a good combination–considering the human condition. Which also means, according to worst-writer, my beloved #americant achieved its greatness within a grand divide–a juicy oyster-like crevice, if you will–that is between two human acts that are mutually exclusive, especially when compared to other species on this earth.

Big dicks and little brains. Let the magic begin, eh ladies!

The other grand thing that happened between 1865 and 1945–according to what I got out of Howard Zinn’s book–was that the little brain of America was being programmed to think in one very particular small-brain way–which may or may not coincide with the size of genitalia. The ideology of GREED was being permanently embedded in the American psyche after the Civil War. And not just embedded. It was made part of the whole–the whole idear of America–which, IMHO, was/is the only way to get around avoiding facing the reality that is our original sin (slavery). Howard Zinn doesn’t go anywhere near the reality of GREED in his historical re-counting. He simply narrates a somewhat left of centre point-of-view regarding racism, capitalism and a love for all-things greed. And that’s where the crux of Zinn’s book runs awry. Or. Put another way. I’ve finally figure how some people can consider Howard Zinn a propagandist.

One of the motivating factors for writing this post is wanting to expand one of my recent tweets. This tweet was motivated after reading about what’s been going on in Charlottesville, VA. A place I know well, btw. In fact, I lived in various parts of VA in my youth. It is a place I was glad to leave. It is a place I never care to return to. But enough about worst-moi.  Below is the tweet I wish to worst-expand on:

https://twitter.com/worstwriter/status/896416691802050560

Allow me the following question: what does the racism and stupidity of white supremacists in Charlottesville, VA, have to do with Howard Zinn being a propagandist? The answer, I fear, is easy. It’s all just a matter of perspective, of point-of-view, of racists being tired of being discriminated against. I mean, shouldn’t everyone have their say? Shouldn’t even stupid white people and their stupid politics and their well-earned poverty (yes, they’ve earned their poverty!) have a say? That about sums up how #americant can get to where it’s at… after the fcuking Civil War. Whose turn is it to have their say? For right wingers, Howard Zinn had his say (in his book). Since he had his say, others, not unlike the white supremacists of Charlottesville, VA, deserve to have their say, too. Ain’t that how it works, dear worst-reader? One side of the political spectrum wins. Then the other side wins. In-between there is faux newz, Rush Limbaugh, David Duke. Indeed. Really, really stupid white people start gathering after having spent most of their lives living in the wake of their fail-upward belief in a system that has ultimately duped them to the hilt of both mind and cock. This is all way better than openly avoiding (our) original sin.

Greed + small brains = …

It’s all a matter of perspective.

If one reads through some of the book reviews that are quoted on the Wiki page about Zinn’s book, there is one common theme that runs through all of them. Those who praise Zinn are from the left. Those who do not praise him are NOT from the left. For those who think that the political left and right are two threads that may or may not run through what people say about Zinn, I reckon I can’t argue with you on that. That’s because I see the left and right as one these days. Especially considering where my beloved #americant is in its current political iteration. With that in mind, #Trump didn’t win the election. The other politician, the one who would have obviously been better, simply threw the whole thing to the $hitshow. But don’t misunderstand me here, dear worst-reader.  I’m not making false equivalencies either. But. But. But. If you want there to be two parties battling over what you want to believe in, that’s your problem. Seriously. It is your problem.

We are dealing with Everything and the All of #americant, dear worst-reader. Whether it’s love, family, community, church, government, etc., etc., greed is what makes the whole $hitshow function. Greed is what makes people stupid enough to allow white supremacists, in fcuking 2017, to protest their right to take their country back–and, of course, make it great again! Up till the end of the 20th century, America did a pretty good job of managing all this greed. I mean, there was enough (greed) to go around. When, for whatever reason the barrel of greed that is #americant ran out, like our original sin, just avoid it–no matter what the means as long as all that’s left are big dicks and little brains.

If Howard Zinn is a propagandist, I’m good with that. Reason? I’d rather read his version of history than that which is being written now by those with LITTLE dicks and little brains. Re-reading this book can never be the wrong thing to do.

Rant onwards, suckers.

-T

Is A Skewed Mind Any Worse Than The Mindless?

And it was good, your Lord said. Or maybe not, say worst-writer. Or maybe not.

It’s also good that the world is looking into who/what the people are that can come up with so much mindlessness–especially when being employed at one of the most prominent employers in the world. I mean, that is the purpose of so many currently having a look at the ten page manifesto written by a now former Google employee, James Damore, that kinda, sorta, goes the way so many went way back before liberal minds and freed thought saved the world. Or? Nomatter.

By-the-buy, I had a look and spewed a worst-thought or three about it here.

In that vein…

I mean, if you can get a job at Google, doesn’t that make you, comparatively speaking, a pretty special human being? Then again, what is a prerequisite for acquiring such a position in life? The College degree these days is nothing more than a token one has to acquire, perhaps not unlike fiat-money so that the working classes can think they’re actually achieving. Once you have a certain amount of these tokens then you can manoeuvre in your world of token commoditisation. Of course, let’s not forget that the world is now lead by the first generation of humans that have acquired tokens. The only problem is, the next generation is waiting in the wings with token-vengeance, i.e. the youngsters born of privilege and entitlement that are now working at Google.

And so…

The reality of the lie that is this token world is finally starting to sink in to some of this new generation, especially the likes of James Damore. In their confusion to comprehend the world they’ve been handed and the world they continue to enable and facilitate, the Damore’s will lead on. With that in mind…

A skewed mind is no worse than the mindless.

Good for them; entertaining for the rest of us.

Rant on. -T

Moment You Know Your Gig Is Up And #ConfessYourUnpopularOpinions

burn it down but dont hurt anybody
HDT + fire (but don’t hurt anybody) = burn the whole fcuking thing down. Source of pic: the movie Office Space

I love it. It’s one of those rare moments where there is so much crumbling in the souls of those who thought they $hit roses that I can sit back, for even this brief amount of time, and actually enjoy watching the catastrophic embarrassment of WWE or anything reality-tv. Cause that’s what we’re/you’re in, baby. But here’s the thing, dear worst-reader. There’s been quite a backlash to a recent publication by a Google automaton regarding the genetic deficiencies of females as computer programmers, or something like that. Of course, if one reads what was actually published (which I’ve only partly done), two things should come to mind:

  1. Have you nothing better to do with your expensive San Francisco ruining time?
  2. Convention and status-quo are the enemy of rational thought and the innate human desire to consume too many Jujubes.

This whole shebang is so hi-larry-us regarding this issue that I’m also wondering why rational people–if there actually are any left in my beloved #americant–don’t all get up and finally do what needs to be done. By-the-buy, if you want to know what needs to be done, read HDT and then add fire (or maybe not). As far as my enjoying this moment where others suffer, heed this: when a manifesto from an automaton blows up like this it can only mean one thing. Either there’s something wrong in Kansas (as in that Munchkinland where everything is almost perfect, ‘cept for those menacing witches and what-not) or your time is up at the fun factory–where you’ve been riding on the backs of future generations because of the greed you and your salary has been perpetuating for having done nothing except ruin the #interwebnets. Indeed.

Yeah, to have the time to write and think about what this automaton thought about means you might have a bit too much time on your hands. At a company like Google, that means there has to be a lot more of you that have too much time on their hands, too. Which also means, many, many, many automatons should be made redundant. Either that or switch your major (as in college) to eugenics.

Rant onwards.

-T

Links that motivated this post:

Corporatism, Mobbing And The Daily Routine Of The Race To The Bottom

stained flag

Behaviour these days is everything; it is a pillar at the base upon which the global system, in its current iteration, rests and functions. In fact, nothing gets done without behaviourism. If you don’t behave then you are an outcast, you are ostracised from the/a system. You may also be accosted or, better yet, mobbed. Whether that system is family, a community or a corporatist press briefing at the White House, there is no avoiding the reality of behaviourism. Without behaving you are left to what you had when you were born: either someone will take care of you or you become a burden. What happens though when something enters the system and causes too many within in it to not only misbehave but the standards of behaviour become more and more obscure?

Ok. Cut to the chase. The recent press briefing where a senior political advisor to #Trump, Stephen Miller, literally accosted a reporter left me in awe. The moment was so obscene that I had to cover my face due to my falling jaw so that not too many of Balthazar’s locust’s wouldn’t fly directly into my cerebral cortex and then exit my coils (as in mortal) through my other end. What a display of third-grade rambling this man (Miller) shows the world, I thought. How many times have I experienced the same thing in my short lived corporate career where elbows ruled EVERYTHING, I asked myself. I then remembered the same type of exchange in a fifth grade sandbox between me and a click of insiders at the new middle school I was required to attend (where fifth graders still had sandboxes and used them). From highschool I remembered observing how girls haggled over other girls because of dress, posture and poise, and the ever relevant boy gawking. Yet in this case, supposed adults who are literally at the top of the world were acting no different than…

Than what?

Stephen Miller–as any good, submissive, tow-the-line (incorrect spelling of idiom explained here) college grad–tried to turn the issue around and up-side-down that was raised by a reporter questioning governments questionable law making. Which is fine by me. The problem is, Miller’s behaviour and his inability to intellectually handle the situation is a grand example of how things work in DC, the world, and in the minds of corporatists. Which brings me to this worst-question: where does this behaviour come from? I won’t pretend to know the answer to that. But allow me to worst-say this: This can only happen in a system that is in the process of eating itself, that is in a perpetual state of failing upward, that is well on its way in a race to the bottom. Add to that Stephen Miller’s attempt to re-engineer history by delegitimising the humbled masses poem at the Statue of Liberty. Oh my!

Behaviour=Alt-Right + Fake News + and let’s not forget that old #americant idiom: my way or the highway, sucker.

Indeed. And in case you need more, just google this: “andrew breitbart screaming at protestors” or watch the video that I’ve linked to here where a disgusting right-winger hideously spews exactly what was most likely drilled into him as an abused white anglo-saxon child: behave yourself, behave yourself, behave yourself.

How to make heads or tails of this?

Almost everything that’s wrong today in my beloved #americant (and perhaps the entire western world) might be found buried in the dialogue of my previous post. In the movie No Country For Old Men, during the putting-up scene at the gas station, a few very meaningful cultural issues are hidden within the scene between a middle-of-nowhere store owner and a south-of-the-boarder hitman. I’ve come up with this pseudo empirical study of the text that may or may not be relevant to this worst-post:

  • Mind your own business (which authoritarians can never do)
    • The owner rudely questions where Chigurh is from.
  • The owner is a racist (behaviourism)
    • Chigurh calls him a cracker (slave owner)
  •  A reactionary mind, adhering to convention, suspends its ability to differenciate between truth and lying and when challenged to do so just rambles on (like #Trump & Co.)
    • The owner cannot say what time of day he closes his store, only approximately when he goes to bed (off or change subject)
  • What you have in life is unearned (the basis of a debt ridden, neo-feudalistic economy)
    • The owner married-in to the store where he works/lives
  • When you enter into a wager, you have to hold up your side of the bargain
    • This is what #americant has been avoiding since it adopted a position of empire
  • Etc.

 

The thing I’m worst-considering, dear worst-reader, using the putting-up scene from No Country For Old Men, is this: which of the characters is Stephen Miller and which is the reporter (in the video above)? Put another way, which of the movie characters is #americant and which is America? Nomatter who is what and why is on second, it doesn’t look good for anyone because things have actually traversed this far down the rabbit $hithole. With that in worst-mind, I’m leaning towards Miller being the owner of the store, although perhaps a bit more movie dialogue is required to legitimize such a worst-thought. Miller is certainly not Chigurh. As far as the reporter goes, he is without doubt a rational human being questioning a governments irrational attempt at making a very, very bad law. (See The Raise Act link below).

Worst-hint. Pay special attention at about 3:10 in the video above. The way Miller tries to turn the reporters question about English speaking immigrants–the merit part of The Raise Act–up-side-down, trying to make it sound as though the reporter is not only biased (cosmopolitan bias) but also a racist–as though he was saying no other country other than England or Austrialia had English speakers in it–which the reporter clearly didn’t say–is absurd. Miller in this situation is nothing more than an abomination of irrational people (those directly and indirectly responsible for President Stupid) unable to cope with the reality of what their politics (conservatism) has sewn. And so, they react in this manor. They react poorly. They become ugly. The are hideous. What got us here? The answer might just be:

Look at your  mirror hideousness.

Rant on.

-t

Links that motivated this post:

What Scares More? Who Or How A $140m Was Won In Court?

When I was kid there were two things that scared me. One was the return of my father who abandoned me when he realised the petty jubilee of war-winner’s bounty in the form of young German girls–while fulfilling his commitment to the US military–and how that wasn’t quite what he thought it would be. And the other was the 1972 movie The Poseidon Adventure. Seriously. To this day I complain to my mother about having dragged me to that film. I even remember the filthy floor that I crawled on while hiding behind the backs of movie theatre seats to escape the portrayal of suspense and human suffering on the big, wide Hollywood screen with the aftermath of a capsized ocean liner. It was indeed a dirty, filthy, grimy disgusting floor. Nomatter. I count myself lucky to not have feared what other kids feared when they were young. You know, ghosts, monsters, priests, etc. Of course, fear is something we all must deal with in life–especially in times like these where everything, everyone, The All of Life, is about one thing and one thing only: money. So I guess, as an adult without any money, I’ve had to deal with fear anew. But you know what, dear worst-reader? It doesn’t stop with being a useless eater, one who was meant to be a ditch digger but instead told those with privilege and inheritance to go fcuk themselves thirty-three times over. And with that in mind, there is one other thing that scares the krapp out of me as I start down the path of getting older than I ever thought I’d get. The thing I fear most today is power run amok in the hands of the few. And if you think it hasn’t run amok, give a look at that weird court case a few years back between Hulk Hogan and Gawker. Even though I haven’t seen the documentary discussed in the video above, I’m really looking forward to seeing it asap–as soon as it’s available here in the old country. In the mean time, I’ll utilise the wait-time to psych myself up. For, dear worst-reader, the amount of power that is currently being consolidated into the grimy hands of wealthy assholes who can manipulate the judicial system (of any country) should raise red flags not only across the world but, indeed, #americant. But then again, if those flags were raised, it could cease to be #americant. Or? Oh my. I’m so afraid of the future of the western world having given in to political conservatism and thereby monetising the judiciary of democracy that I’m already looking for movie theatre seats to hide behind. Oh. Wait. I guess I’m also a little afraid of what grime is gonna be on the floor of those movie theatre seats I try to crawl under. Or maybe not.

Rant on.

-T

Links that motivated this post:

Naked Barge Drivers And Ford Fiestas On Their Way To Awaiting Suckers The World Over. Or Whoever Else Can Pay.

ford rhein barge naked guy on deck.jpg
Slowly learning the whims of smart phone technology. Or maybe not.

Almost didn’t get this pic, dear worst-reader. Had to struggle to pull my smartphone from my pocket where it always rests albeit connected to my ears by really bad audio-phonic cabling that enables me to listen to podcasts (mostly Anglo news) while walking Beckett the killer pug. Indeed #1. In the nick-of-time, I noticed yet another rhine barge full of Ford Fiestas on its way, probably, to Holland, and then on to other places on this planet. Indeed #2. All the little krapp cars that are made just down the river at Germania’s pseudo-socialised Ford manufacturing plant, will be loaded on to some other ocean-going vehicle and then, probably, transported to India, Africa, Mars (for all I care), where they then will be sold to willing suckers that think life begins with a car. Indeed end.

Rant on.

-T

PS The only thing left to do is eventually learn how to take pics with my damn smart phone. (Or is such a skill really not worth the effort?)

Consume To Survive vs. Amazilla

Screen Shot 2017-07-21 at 10.03.15.png
Get a load of that discount. 56%????

Update: May the heavens be blessed (if you believe in that sort of thing). To my worst-surprise, my consume-to-survive order that is supposed to help with cleaning my ageing teeth arrived today. Wow. If you can believe the original price posted (Euro299,99) then this was a pretty good deal. Yeah, baby.


Haven’t been posting much in July. Something about the Germania weather this time of year. Even though the weather (and everything else) sucks here, this time of year seems to be the worst. They call it Drucken. It’s as though you have to walk around in a thick, pressing atmosphere where the breath and stench of too many people crowded into too small a place doesn’t mix well with a grey sky that wants to annihilate you. But enough about the misery of too much health insurance and worst-moi.

Today dear worst reader it’s time to worst-blog about consumerism. You know, that thing we all have to do above and beyond surviving like our ancestors once did. Since I make no effort to hide my position in this world as a consumer–and what a lucky one at that–there are moments where even I get a bit perturbed with how The Man tries to control me and my consumption. For example. I decided recently to give in to the electric toothbrush craze. I’ve avoided it most of my adult life, even though my better-half has been using one most of her adult life. Since she needs to replaced her old one, because the battery doesn’t hold a charge anymore–and because it looks like it’s been used to clean things other than teeth–I broke down and started searching for a deal. And boy did I find one.

The deal of the day, dear worst-reader is encapsulated in the screenshot above. I found an offer on that internet shopping portal that I couldn’t refuse. Is it two for the price of one or is buy one get one free? To be honest, I’m not sure if I’ll ever find out. Ordered over a week ago, I still haven’t received my purchase. I did get an email the other day that said something about they were working on my order but I couldn’t make heads or tales out of whether or not they (or someone else) had just pulled the wool over my eyes. I mean, come on, more than half off the original price of a new-fangled tech-driven electric toothbrush?

As of the writing of this worst-post, I’ve not received my order. But then I did come across a tweet that opened up an eye or three. By-the-buy, this is the second time I’ve ordered something with such a large discount on Amazilla. The first time the order was cancelled for me. We’ll see how this one goes.

Rant on.

-T

Other links:

Glass Cliff, Glass Ceiling Or How Her Corporate Soul Is Made Of As Much Nothingness As His

glass shattered

I’ve always had a problem with motherhood being on a pedestal. Is it because I was hatched? Procreation is more of a disease than something worth a baby shower and the happy wonderland consequence that is the lie of family life. I suppose that could mean I’m only partly misogynistic or just General Schmuck. Anyone remember Schmuck? He was the undersecretary of the military that served in Patton’s underpants and it is said he was lost behind a tank that made a wrong turn while hunting Rommel in North Africa carrying both a victory flag and roll of red, white and blue toilet paper. Then again, I’ve got no prejudice in my life because loss and Victoria, a grand ole bitch I’ve been fcuking for years, won’t leave me till I’m dead. And you know what they say, eh, dear worst-reader? It takes two to blame one in this game of touch and feel and everything is ok. I mean, come on, would we (men) really go for the family thing if given a choice these days? Trust me. Hatching the future is definitely worth a try. Or would we rather run off to some war-of-choice with the booty of expensive gas to cruise our broken streets in our broken and never-paid-off cars? Oh, isn’t it obvious how we ( men?) have been tricked? Played? Jerked ’round? Obviously males did go for this back in the day. Back in the day when dragging multiple wives into caves by their hair and our knuckles was a worthwhile undertaking. An undertaking that is reflected so clearly in how the world works today for the corporate state. But I’m off subject. Or maybe not.

Oh yea–we were worst-discussing my prejudices.

And so #1a

I simply hate everybody and almost everything. With that in mind, there’s no reason to feel special if I call you out for a having uterus–and a mind incapable of dealing with it–especially considering how the outer part of the feminine sells that uterus.

And so #1b

I do not hate the perfect balance between man and the uterus machine–if it can be achieved–especially in that which is manifested in a perfectly tuned turbo-charged V–8 that when given the gas it presses uterus (Her) so completely to the back of the passenger seat that breasts poke out and beg the driver-male to play another game. Hence youthful if not teenage sexuality aloft in the sky full of your candy clouds. I also find perfection in pistachio ice cream slowly blended into Napoleon ice cream after fcuking the entire day while laying in a field of daffodils and quaker oats mixed in real maple syrup. Beyond that, I gladly and openly live the life of a humble and powerless cartoon-like monarch-god that is angry and bitter and ashamed–for the sake of shame. I only blame part of what I am on the other sex because of Her desire to lock males into the uselessness of romantic love run amok in a world where pornography earns more than (insert your industry of choice here). Pornography, btw, isn’t as profitable as it is just because men want to spank it all the time. Indeed #1.

And so #2

At the behest of my better-half, the Vladimir Putin of my life, I am a man destined, like Russia, to be ruled by two-bit dictators with tits. For that, like many Russians, I am thankful because I have been endowed with

  1. a well-careered wife and
  2. a society that couldn’t save itself from itself–if it had to.

And so #3

This life that has been chosen for me because society (or is it sobriety?) has no choices left. I consider this (life) as an endeavour that is not without career and corporatist leanings. Indeed #2. We are all a slave to something. I see first-hand the unjust behaviorisms that influences not only mine but my better-half’s life–and the life of so many around me that must or are so willingly employed by the man. But enough about alter egos, wishful thinking and the admiration I abhor of those who are have-mores in the corporate world of their have-choice. And so…

I came across a new piece of feminism v emancipation yesterday: Glass Cliff. Would you believe, dear worst-reader, I had never heard of the glass cliff–until yesterday? I’ve heard of the glass ceiling, thanks to you-know-who. But the glass cliff…

The glass cliff is a term that describes the phenomenon of women in leadership roles, such as executives in the corporate world and female political election candidates, being likelier than men to achieve leadership roles during periods of crisis or downturn, when the chance of failure is highest.

As far as the origin of this nonsense?

While reading an article about the demise of Uber the other day, i.e. a corporate tech entity that is nothing if not a smart-ass corporation to join all smart-ass corporations. It’s being said that a female might be picked to help them turn things around. Seriously? Hasn’t the industry learned by now? What? Marissa Mayer not enough? What about Carly Fiorina? Should I even go down the list of female superheroes that save the world and the men around them? No. Defiantly not. So here’s the thing.

Uber should be about connecting people with immediate mobility and thereby utilising the simplicity of modern technology. Instead it is a platform–a middleman, if you will–that tries to take advantage–or as corporate smart-asses like to put it: disrupt–the taxi industry. The platform on which this money is exchanged is the genius of Uber. Yet, like most who make money on a platform, they have forgotten that the platform must also have a purpose–other then their own greed. And I’m really rambling now.

When I discovered the term glass cliff my heart lost two more beats. I’m so sorry that the feminine not only has to deal with my bull$hit but also that of others–who are so much more than worst-moi.

Good luck, ladies.

Rant on.

-T

Links that motivated this post:

This post was created w/ writing software that utilises markdown and then uploaded to this blog; what the hell that means I have no idear. Good luck.

Random Moments Of Consumption Galore Or How To Get Your Kicks While On Route To 666

route us 666

Moments I recall that are all–must be?–part of today’s #americant opioid problem galore (see links below). The funny thing about this little list of recollections is that all the parties involved had something to do with Vegas. …I think.

Moment #1

While drinking a beer and waiting for an international flight at PHL a few years back I’m sitting between Cutie and Young Gun at a pub. Cutie asks if I’ve got any Speed because she doesn’t want to fall asleep on the plane before she arrives in Vegas.

“Speed?” I ask. “The last time I heard someone your age use that term I was working post production on the movie Vanishing Point?”

There is a pregnant pause while Young Gun on my other side rummages around in his shoulder bag and Cutie frivolously contemplates my response by turning her head to the side like a pug.

Cutie can’t be more than thirty-five and is dressed in expensive clothes that look as though they might come from Über-GAP. She’s thin, tight and probably walks on heels as though they are tennis shoes. She’s got a beautiful leather shoulder bag and one of those small Tumi rolling suitcases that’s glossy black. Since I’m on an evening flight to Europe I’m wondering why, with a five hour flight to Vegas, that will put her there in the early evening, she needs to be awake. Nomatter.

The pause is over and so is my mix with Cutie. Young Gun answers her question.

“I’ve got some Ritalin,” Young Gun says.

Cutie smiles and, as if I’m not even there, reaches across my face, the hair of her forearm is thicker than mine, and takes two pills out of Young Guns right palm. The pills have a dove engraving on one side and a sideways 8 on the other.

Moment #2

While visiting family in rural Virginia I’m out grocery shopping for the family dinner. I’m having a hard time finding wet mozzarella cheese in the huuuuugeness of the store. I make my over to the deli counter and stand in front of the glass next to a few people hoping I could get some answers and/or directions to what I’m looking for. Three clerks are desperately slicing and packing deli stuff behind the counter when I over hear two people waiting in line next to me, who obviously haven’t seen each other in quite a while, chit-chat.

Pseudo-Friend 1: It’s good you’ve been well. You look great.

Pseudo-Friend 2: Yeah, not always the case. But thanks.

Pseudo-Friend 1: Say, do you still have any of that… (I can’t make out what she says).

Pseudo-Friend 2: Sure. Got some right here. You want?

Pseudo-Friend 1: Oh. You’re a doll-baby. This is my day!

One of the clerks is talking to a customer she just gave sliced honeyed ham and mentions how she, unlike most people in the store that she is obviously referring to, isn’t gonna inherit anything like everybody else is. I can’t help but catch a glimpse of the clerks rotting teeth as she talks to much making other customers wait. I think to myself, this is 2015 America! Who has teeth here like our dentally challenged inbred cousins in Engaland? Deli clerks do. Obviously. Oh my. Should rotten teeth be in/around deli meats?

It’s Pseudo-Friend 2’s time to order. While rummaging through her purse she belts out the ounces for honeyed-ham, spiced turkey, salami and a few others. When she’s done ordering and the rotten teeth clerk goes about gathering it all, she finds what she’s looking for in her purse but before she takes it out she turns to me.

Pseudo-Friend 2: Bit nosey today, eh mister good-lookin.

Smiling at me she pulls a small plastic pouch out of her purse that is sealed with a twist tie. The pouch is filled with what looks like white crumbs mixed with powder. She then notices her error.

Pseudo-Friend 2: Oh wait. Wrong one.

She returns to rummaging in her purse but then pauses and puts one hand on the shoulder of Pseudo-Friend 1.

Pseudo-Friend 2: Don’t worry, I’ve got it. By the way, when were you last in Vegas?

Pseudo-Friend 1: Funny you should ask. I’ll be there tomorrow afternoon. I’m just buying my kids some supplies for the weekend. They just love the ham from this deli.

I notice Pseudo-Friend 1’s shopping cart is full of chips, frozen hamburger patties, paper plates, hotdog buns, relish, frozen pizzas, pickles, plastic containers full of potato salad, ketchup, mustard, mayo, etc., etc. Her cart alone is a fourteen year old’s dream. I guess.

Pseudo-Friend 2 removes another plastic pouch with a different colour twist tie. The pouch is full of at least twenty or so green pills. She hands the pouch to her pseudo-friend and then turns to me again.

Pseudo-Friend 2: What’s the matter, good-lookin, never seen the white rabbit before.

Pseudo-Friend 1 holds up the pouch for a few seconds so that I could inspect it. The pills all have the indentation of a rabbit.

Moment #3

Friends of my mother are having a family crisis. Because of an illness their son has been transferred to a hospital in Baltimore. When I hear them say that they are afraid to make the drive (they are very old) I volunteer to drive them. They are grateful. After I drop them off the hospital I park the car and proceed to take a walk around the city. I eventually find a coffee shop (yea, you know which one) and order a double espresso, a bottle of fizzy water and an oatmeal cookie. I find a window seat where I hope to take in the scenery of my beloved #americant and the vibrance I’ve been missing since becoming an expat a quarter century ago.

Within moments of sitting down, just after my first sip of espresso, two young people (mid-twenties maybe) sit at a table near me. They both have über large paper cups of what I guess are lattés. One of them has brought the sugar dispenser from the condiments table with him, including three or four wooden stirrers. One guy grabs the sugar dispenser and begins to fill his über-cup as though there is no tomorrow. The other takes one of the stirrers and stirs his latté with the same vehemance. The guy with the sugar has filled his cup so much that the frothy milk begins to overflow, dripping onto the table. I’m waiting for the other guy to grab the sugar dispenser but he doesn’t. He just stirs and stirs and stirs.

Sugar: You need to be there for brunch on Sunday.

Stirrer: I told you. There are no more flights. I’m on standby but you know how it is with Vegas on the weekends.

Sugar: Why didn’t you book earlier?

Stirrer: Come on. I’ll get there. I’m leaving for Miami tonight. I should get there Saturday evening. Worse case, I’ll arrive Sunday morning and rush to the hotel.

Sugar: Yea, right.

Stirrer: By the way, how’d it go the other night. You like the new mix?

Sugar: It was good. I’m not sure I noticed much of a difference to last time. But it was good. You got anymore?

Stirrer puts a small pink envelope in front of Sugar. Sugar looks in it. Sugar smiles.

Rant on.

-T

Links that motivated this post:

It’s A Good Thing I’m Not Draining The Swamp Because I’d Start With Those T-Shirts that Say: FBI – Female Body Investigator

t-shirt fbi female body investigator

No. Seriously. I bet if you did some kind of whacked-out empirical study–you know the stuff college grads can’t do anymore–because if they could they wouldn’t have gotten the world into the neo-liberal krapp-shoot it’s become–then you would know for sure what purpose a government organisation like the FBI really serves. It’s funny too how a former and recently fired FBI director is going up against the president of the united mistakes of (my beloved) #americant so that someway, somehow, a royally dumb-downed society can know the difference between this lie or that lie. Indeed. Drain the swamp? I’d start by getting rid of the FBI. I mean. Come on. Other than extortion and hunting the communist nightmares of those who can’t think for themselves, i.e. conservatives hunting communists, what purpose does the FBI serve? And not only that, if the FBI was worth a hoot when it comes to crime (criminology) then why would the US government need to create a completely new money sucking organisation known as The Homeland? (Or is it Homeland Security?) Whatever. What a shame that all these stupid white men in suits and ties appear before government committees and no one watching can see the difference between bullshit and a nightmare.

Or maybe not.

trump comey

Rant on.

-T

Who You Pay When The Customs Agent Comes With Rhino Horn Powder

Dead Rat.jpg
Rat. Not an endangered species. Ever wonder why? They’re so much like humans.

Having a bad day. This is a NSFW post.

No. Seriously, dear worst-reader. Just a few moments ago I almost got into a fist fight with a German customs agent. Ok, well, maybe not a fist fight. So let me set this up.

Taking Beckett, the killer pug, for his afternoon waste-my-time walk, we come across a few street tents. As we got closer we could slowly see what was under those street tents. Whoopi! It was be-green day, save the world day. There were tents for the prevention of wearing fur, cruelty against animals and my favourite: German customs agents were informing the riffraff, i.e. the public, about what NOT to bring in the country after they go on their get up earlier than anybody to preserve your beach chair collective-state vacations.

On the tables under the customs agents tent were examples of the various contraband that has been confiscated at Düsseldorf Airport. There was a crocodile Dundee hat. That’s right. A real croc hat made out of real croc leather–lined with croc teeth. There were sea horses in a glass casing–that looked as though someone might have painted over them to make them look like toys. In a glass vodka bottle was a preserved (I’m assuming it was formaldehyde) cobra. Could there once have been vodka in that bottle and it was owned by a Russian oligarch who was flying through Germany after visiting Botswana? Then there was my favourite. Smack dab in the middle of one of the tables was a rhinoceros horn. Wait. rhinoceros horns. Plural. I think. And I don’t mean just the tip of the horn(s). It was a horn from one of them rhinos that has two horns. The whole of the skull of the rhino was still attached to the horn(s). It was fucking gross. And that’s when everything started to get queazy for me. There were hundreds of examples of once live animals that the riffraff tried to import into Germany–illegally. Boo-fuckin’-who, eh! Barf!

But here’s the thing. I fucking hate these pretentious motherfuckers who go out on the streets and try to convince people to join their little bandwagon of nitwits–and thereby never actually making it clear as to the reality behind nation-state customs officiality. (That’s just another worst-word that almost combines reality-tv with official. Or maybe not.) So I turned to one of the customs officials and proceeded to attempt (at having) a provocative conversation about officiality. All the while I was on the verge of throwing up my guts and slapping someone silly.

Moi: Why is it illegal to bring this stuff into the country? Most of these animals are already dead when the vacationing riffraff buy them. They are, in effect, trinkets sold by very, very, very poor people who would otherwise have nothing else–except what all poor people have–namely the inability to feed their idiotic offspring. What’s the harm in that?

Customs official: (narrowly translated to English for the hearing impaired) It’s illegal.

Moi: Oh really, Opa! What an ingenious answer. Did you hear my fucking question?

Customs official: It’s illegal. Duh.

Moi: Yes. I understand that. But why?

Custom official: Germany make law. Illegal. Ugh, ugh, ugh.

Moi: Yes, my Germanish ape friend. I get that. But have you ever thought about the reason for such a law? Who does it really serve?

Customers official: In Germany illegal…

I gave up on the conversation not because I was talking to an ape but because Germans were starting to stand around me, they were starting to hone in on the foreigner who might in some way disrespect the(ir) collective. Run for the hills indeed, the pitch forks are being dusted off.

And that fucking set of rhino horns was ringing dollar signs in the back of my head. It was the only thing preventing me from throwing up all over the place. If only I could get my hands on them horns. I could sell them, you know. I would make enough to get the fuck out of collective land, out of #eurowasteland, out of my gold cage. And then I would go to fucking Thailand and eat baby seahorses while strangling fucking whales the Japanese are not longer allowed to hunt (in open oceans).

(Gently close can of worms now.)

Don’t get me wrong, dear worst-reader. I’m fucking with you. And. I know that there is exploitation in the world. I know that there are endangered species out there that need protection. But here’s what gets under my gander with all these pretentious wannabe fucks that think they are saving this fucking rathole that we call earth by protesting something that does nothing but help feed really, really poor people–and, of course, keep them poor, as well.

Customs officiliaty today should serve to protect the poor of other countries as much as it protects the rich of its own country. Bingo!

If the German corporate state wouldn’t pump so much cash into China so that a few fucking perverts who own all that cheap labour can build Audis that make German stockholders more money, then maybe they wouldn’t have enough cash to buy fucking rhinoceros horns for their perverted sex activities after they grind them up into powder and snort that shit away as though camels shit roses and and and…

Oh wait. You didn’t know that rich Chinese fucks grind down rhino horns into powder and then snort the powder before having sex with slave girls?

Oh sorry.

Now go buy another fucking Audi.

Rant on.

-t

#UnitedAirlines In Your Monopolies @ 30k Feet Below Laughter Of Automaton Galore Bigly Greatness

Hilarryus, dear worst-reader. Seriously. I’m laughing my ass off right now at #United Airlines gettin’ in the newz. Of course, it need not be mentioned that more than ten or so years ago, I also got booted from a United flight. The good newz is I didn’t actually get booted like this guy did. No. I never actually made it onto the plane that was supposed to connect me to my destination. I got booted from the international transfer terminal because I was so unruly at the ticket counter where an automaton United employee turned on her corporate trained behaviourist defence mode and literally shut down her station to avoid facing reality. I was connecting at Dulles Airport from London to Orlando. When I got to Dulles though there was no record of my ticket even though I had just flown from London on a United flight with a ticket that had a destination of Orlando. When I told the automaton worker that I wasn’t gonna leave the line until she did something about what was obviously her, i.e. United’s mistake, she left the counter and told the people behind me that they should find another line. Of course they all did exactly that. I stood there dumbfounded, angry, but not surprised. I was in #americant. The land of in-order-to-get-ahead you MUST fail upwards. It was/is indeed some God’s country of monopolisation or die trying (to get there).

Long story short.

It turns out that #United had actually allowed me to board in London without noticing that they had put the wrong name on my ticket. By-the-bye, this was post nine-eleven! And so… I boarded in London as Thomas (wrong-name) and flew eight hours to Dulles. When in Dulles the #United automaton said there was no record of me, according to the name on my passport, nor was there a ticket for me from London to Orlando. There was a record of “Thomas (wrong-name)”, though–as printed on the boarding pass I received in London. And because that name didn’t match my passport they said it wasn’t their problem.

“But I just flew with you from London with or without the right name. Now I’m stuck in the transfer terminal in Dulles. What the hell do I do now?”

An airport employee ended up telling me that I had to exit the terminal and deal with United from the outside. The whole ordeal cost me a night in a hotel, a missed flight to my destination and the undue stress of having to deal with corporate #americant where “corporations are people too, my friend.” (Mitt Romney.)

So it’s no surprise to me that a monopoly industry would resort to this type of behaviour in its daily activities. And who facilitated the airline industry turning into a monopoly? That’s right, dear worst-reader. You guessed it. #Americant did. Now go vote your feelings and allow the conservatives to turn your country into the politburo corporate moneyed governing entity that it was always meant to be. And don’t forget:

Make #americant greatness again. Suckers!

Links that motivated this post:

Rant on.

-t

Pathology 101: #Americant Greed Galore Times Three

Scream no fear all worst

Fascinating but winded article. I suppose that’s why writers for The New Yorker get paid the big bucks. With that in mind, the article linked to below is a doozy. Just when I thought Citizens United had created an ideological political Autobahn to hell paid for by the über-rich that would lead my beloved #ameircant straight to…, here comes a new twist on reality. Not only are rational minds the world over competing with the batshittery of American (1) conservatives and (2) religious nut jobs, but there’s now a third beast to deal with. Indeed. Imagine a boxing match where it’s two against one. Then, suddenly, a third boxer joins the other two. That’s right, dear worst-reader. There are three beasts fighting against one. All three have one thing in common: political conservatism.

  • money greed (old money inherited, protected, etc.)
  • religious greed (tax free mega churches and pastor jets, etc.)
  • new rich (dotcom cracks, hedge fund instant winners, etc.)

Although a few truth seekers out there have mentioned the fact that America’s wealthy are pretty much socially and amorally pathological at this point in our history, the article linked below may provide a bit more info about how this came to be. The rich man written about is, at least for me, the scariest character yet in this freakshow. Scarier than the Koch brothers, scarier than wannabe Ronald Reagan, scarier seven hundred clubs, scarier than Rush, etc., etc.

For the life of me, I can’t figure out why the mind’s of rich people get so cracked and damaged to make them think this way. But then again, what the fuck do I care. #Americant is getting what it deserves. Or?

Good luck suckers.

Rant on.

-t

Link that motivated this post:

The reclusive hedge fund tycoon | The New Yorker

Problems With The World Today, How You Know It’s So And How To Save $5 And Look Cool Doing It If You’re Smart

drum-brakes-on-new-cars

Obviously it’s hard to see. Reason? Sight. It’s really that simple. Sight is not the ability to see.

But see what, dear worst-writer?

Well. Let me tell you, dear worst-reader.

While walking Beckett the Killer Pug this afternoon, I came across something that I see all the time. In fact, I see it without sight. And each time I see it I say to myself, wow, how can that be? In this case, I passed a new Smart car and I took sight.

Just look at that new Smart car!

It has drum brakes at the rear…

Drum brakes? Ok. Ok. I’m sure some über-edumacated #eurowasteland engineer might have suggested to the corporate automaton management team at Smart (or is it Mercedes?) that only modern brakes should be installed on this little piece of krapp pseudo-car. But as we all know, the automaton management of said company always wins this type of… idealistic discussion? The fact that disc brakes are much more expensive than drum brakes goes without saying. And what about the issue of archaic governmental regulations that hold back a company like Smart from having a car with only two brakes instead of four? Indeed. Drum brakes are still being used in many automobiles these days. Which brings me to the following worst-question:

Why not just forgo brakes on the rear of this car? Not only would that LOOK cool but it would BE cool.

At the least, forgoing brakes on the rear wheels would save weight and money. Speaking of money–i.e. the god whom all prey to. I wonder if drum brakes still cost something like $5 to make. Yes. That’s what they cost twenty years ago when I was a research analyst working for the German car industry and someone suggested–even back then to get rid of drum brakes on all cars. Twenty years ago. I wonder what is going to be the drum-brake of the iPhone in ten years.

Rant on.

-t

Rich vs Rich

Some say there’s a difference between wealthy and rich. It has something to do with how you came to your money. In the end the words don’t matter. What does matter, though, is the result of the world’s greatest experiment in democracy playing the I can be rich and powerful and all-knowing and the centre of the universe card. Or maybe not.

As the freak show known as the presidential election makes the turn for the final stretch, The Donald has emerged as the shitbag leader of a whole bunch of shitbags. But is The Donald actually what he says he is? Does it even matter? I mean, he does have his own 757 jet. And almost everything he owns is laced in gold–to match his stuck-in-the-1970s comb-over. But I digress.

Enter stupid.

When it became clear to worstwriter that The Donald was actually gonna clinch the RNC nomination I started to worry about one thing. Does this mean that there will finally be a civil war among the shitbags. Oh! Wait. What are the shitbags? Well, dear worst-reader, I’m glad you asked. The shitbags are the people in #americant that own everything. Of course, they don’t own everything because they earned it. No. They own everything because…

  1. They inherited it (i.e. their grandparents earned it)
  2. They conned someone to get it
  3. The pöbel gave it to them because, well, the first rule of flight club is that you believe you too can be rich so you act accordingly–which always keeps the money in one place and one place only.

But before I get too far off subject. I want to blog about the scariest part of the DNC series of Hey Stupid People Listen Up speeches. As good as Michelle Obama’s speech was, as emotional as Khizr Khan’s speech was, as hot as Katy Perry is, the only speech that stood out in my worst-mind was the one by Bloomberg. Why? Well, it’s simple. There is rich and then there is rich.

Remember, dear worst-reader, #americant is what it is not because of rich people but instead because of poor people believing they too can be rich–and the poor act accordingly. And while that game is played there are structures to control those who THINK they are in the game. For those who work for a living and get by this is called neo-feudalism. For those that live to work and succeed at the game of musical chairs of the corporate world, this is fascism. For those that don’t give a fuck–it’s #americant. But, again, I digress.

Donald Trump is not in the (rich) game. This is the reason Bloomberg–an Independent!!!–spoke at the DNC. In fact, the likes of Bloomberg is Trump’s biggest hurdle to getting elected POTUS in November. Trump is simply not in the(ir) game. He may have money but he’s far from being one of them. But you gotta give the guy credit. He’s certainly trying to be in the game. Which is probably what makes him so appealing to so many stupid people. With that in mind, do you feel bad for him and his freak-show yet?

Michael Bloomberg’s speech (see vid above) was the scariest part of not just the DNC but also the RNC–and all of #americant. Bloomberg is the kind of rich that controls everything. Trump is the kind of rich that entertains everything. #Americant. Are these factions of rich colliding? Probably not. But to listen to the freak-show of Bloomberg preach to the choir of stupidity of Trump was an amazing spectacle–especially since it was done by the Democrats. Oh well. As usual, good luck suckers. And…

Rant on.

-t

Links that motivated this post:

The Dips That Make It So, Podcast Hell, The Smell Of Skunk Road Kill

Screen Shot 2016-06-08 at 12.24.08
This is a screenshot.

Recently subscribed to recode-decode podcast. Have to admit, of all the podcasts out there, many of which I try regularly in search of things-of-interest, there are only about a dozen or so that I remain subscribed to. Shame, eh. I mean, what a waste of bandwidth. Thousands of podcasts out there and only, maybe, twelve of them are any good. What does that say about podcasting? Wait. What does it say about me? Nomatter. To each her/his own, eh?

When I saw who was being interviewed on a recent recode-decode podcast I almost immediately hit the unsubscribe button. If anything repels me as though it were the stench of a dead skunk after two days on the side of the road it would be the people that have made Kim Kardashian “famous”. Of course, don’t get me wrong. The recode-decode podcast, after two or three listens, is actually pretty good. At least, well, it’s a tick better than other interview podcasts that dwell on even more nothingness.

Get this, dear worst-reader. The reason I didn’t unsubscribe after seeing who they interview is because I don’t actually blame Kim Kardashian for being what she is. That would be like blaming an orangutang for being orange. It would also be like blaming PT Barnum for his most famous quote turning out to be truer than ever. And that’s kinda important. Although she is a human dip, we live in times where a lot of people get ahead because, well, they learn to profit from living in a world of dips. If you don’t want to be a dip then you probably won’t make in this world today. Hence, corporatism, automatons, apparatus, etc. I mean, come on, Donald Trump couldn’t be where he is today if it weren’t for a nation of dips. But let’s not get too far off subject.

As difficult as it was, I decided this morning to press on and listen to a podcast where Kim Kardashian is interviewed about… whatever. I got through about fifteen minutes of it (which is more than I expected) before turning it off (it’s about forty minutes long). The good news? As I write this paragraph I’m still subscribed to recode-decode. The bad news? There was something else in this podcast that motivated me to write this post.

Not only is it excruciating listening to a dip like Kim K talk but it’s also pretty painful listening to the interviewer–in this case a supposedly well respected tech journalist–go about the whole situation as though it has some sort of journalistic merit. And then there’s the issue of who/what is sponsoring this well produced podcast. The first thing that caught my attention when the podcast started was the reference to a particular sponsor. Guess who/what is a sponsor of a podcast that has a “legitimate” tech journalist interviewing Kim K about her ability to exploit technology? Wait. Before you answer that, answer this: Who/what are Kim K enablers?

Ok. The answers to those questions are irrelevant. But the questions aren’t. A sponsor of this recode-decode podcast is a company that refinances student loans. Now. With that in mind, here’s another question for ya. Who are the people that have made the united mistakes of #americant not only the greatest debtor nation in history but also  a nation of college educated dips that, literally, perpetuate everything that is wrong in western society today? The tech industry of silicon valley–that is the enabler of this podcast–is every bit a part of what’s wrong with #americant these days–and absolutely nothing about what should be right. Or maybe not. Whatever.

#failupwards

It’s a good thing I wrote this post. It helped reevaluate what I’ve done. Unsubscribing to  podcast now.

Good luck suckers.

Rant on. -Tommi

Link that motivated this post:

Turn On, Tune In, Drop Out, Or Pass Me The Popcorn As The Sh*t Show Implodes

monopoly board

Having fun in the game of life yet? No? Gee, why not? Not enough ice-cream? Not enough cheap gas? Not enough free money in the form of credit you’ll never pay back? Not enough of someone thinking for you? Not enough of all this too much? Oh well. Moving on. Look what happened today (in the news). After reading about this one, here my first thoughts:

Yeah. Ok. I get it. I know why this is happening. I played the game once. Now everyone else plays it. I sit back and watch–like the voyeur I am. And so. I thank you dear worst-reader for playing the game so that I can watch. And laugh.

With that in mind, after reading that the mega (wannabe) monopoly corporation Intel is laying off twelve thousand employees, a cynical smile overcame me. This is where I like to reveal the inner workings of my worst-heart. What are the inner workings? Simple. Fuck all twelve thousand! May the twelve thousand rot in the cesspool of greed filth that they work for. May all their useless families and children and whatnot-dependents eat the eyeballs of the dying corporatist patriarchy that is the evil that they work/live for. For, dear worst-reader, corporations like Intel are pure evil. Twelve thousand employees are sh*t outta luck and they worked for the (THE!) computer chipmaker extraordinaire Intel–and none of them knew they worked for pure evil? Twelve thousand? I suppose, if one worst-considers the amount of employees that have been let go over the past thirty or so years in this world of fail-upwards corporatism, twelve thousand is a drop in the bucket. Yet, I love it all the same. Why? Because, well, Intel. What better example is there of the failure of society, of the failure of government, the failure of employees, of humanity. Just worst-writing the word “Intel” makes me sick to my stomach. Which means I have to get through this post toot-sweet. Seriously. And not only that. Fuck all the auto workers, the steel workers, garment workers, etc., etc. Fuck them all and… Fuck all workers and automatons and corporatists that have enabled and facilitated the times we live in. Times that history will tell equal the times of the past when slaves worked and the few & far between were the lucky ones–you know, like kings and queens and emperors and pharaohs and their jesters (which are now called employees), etc. Welcome dear twelve thousand former Intel employees, welcome to the neo-feudalism that you helped enable. Or am I over doing it? Have things improved much since, gee, I don’t know, the pharaohs? What? We got better health care now? We all got a car and an iPhone? And let’s not forget that we all get to have teeth after the age of fifteen. Or? Full stop. I am over doing it? I’m over doing for the sake of dramatic effect. Right? Am I coming across as a class fighter? Is the tendency to read and mis-read Karl Marx seeping out of the pores of my skin? Yeah, I might be over doing it. But I’m only over doing it with the cursing–and, maybe, the reference to Marx. The rest? I stand by it. Seriously. Never before has the premise behind Tim Leary’s “turn on, tune in, drop out” been more relevant than in my entire life time (born at the end 1963). Except, maybe, the entire premise of the game Monopoly–which we seem to be entangled in and YOU! don’t even know it. Even though I don’t care much for drug induced, hippy-fied political ideology–i.e. Tim Leary–I have to admit that his saying has stuck with me most of my life and whenever I hear about huge layoffs, like this one, I just snicker and laugh and think: where’s my Monopoly game? I gotta break out that board again. It’s been so long since I’ve played. And then more thoughts enter (my cortex). Wow, I think. Those dipsh*ts at Intel got laid-off and I can think of no one else more deserving. When you live your life as a blood sucker, as most corporatists do–because no one actually does any “work” anymore–instead we live life like compulsive behaviourist mosquitos–this is what you get. Twelve thousand layoffs. Greed. Fail upwards. Greed. Societal dysfunction. Greed. The Donald. Greed. #Americant Conservatism. Greed. Greed. Greed. And now that the bottom has fallen out for dipsh*ts and I’m gonna sit back and watch the clusterf*ck that is this board game that everyone (except me) doesn’t even know they’re playing. With that in mind, my worst good luck wishes go out to twelve thousand suckers.

Rant on. -Tommi

Links that motivated this post:

Tommi's News Dump: How To Avoid Reality? Make It Up As You Go Along.

panama paper participant logo

Wanting to avoid the Panama Paper’s bullshit ain’t gonna be easy. So maybe I should just get it out of my system. First. Who are the players other than the mass of rich greedy people that will come to light from all this? Second. So far we’re dealing with a hacker, a lawyer/accounting company in Panama that specialises in helping clients hide money from governments and tax authorities, Germany’s largest, richest and greatest-ever bank and a measly Munich based newspaper that I wouldn’t read if you payed me to read it. Oh, and let’s not forget the fact that rich people don’t pay for any sins because, well, they’re like Gods in the eyes of those who want to be Gods (but instead have to be delusional dishwashers, ditch diggers, useless eaters and wannabes, etc.) Good luck suckers. Rant on. -Tommi

Links that motivated this post:

At Odds With Our Government

three dollar bill apple logo (low res)

For posterity’s sake below is worst-writer’s transcription of Tim Cook’s tell-all, ask-all and all-around cute little keynote speech before he starts hocking gadgets to the world and thereby protecting the bottom line, March 2016. I’ve listened to this speech several times. Each time I listen it gets under my gander more and more. But enough of my anti-corpo cynicism. Or maybe not.

Thanks for joining us.

Blah. Blah. Krapp about selling a billion products. Blah Blah. More Corpo krapp. Blah. We’re the best in the universe. Blah Blah Blah. Amazing.

Before we get started today I’d like to address something. We built the iPhone for you. We know it is a deeply personal device. For many of us the iPhone is an extension of ourselves. About a month ago we asked American’s across the country to join in on a conversation. We need to decide as a nation how much power the government should have over our data and over our privacy. I’ve been humbled and am deeply grateful for the outpouring of support that we’ve received from Americans across the country and all walks of life. We didn’t expect to be in this position at odds with our own government but we believe strongly that we have a responsibility to help you protect your data and your privacy. We owe it to our customers and to our country, this is an issue that impacts all of us and we will not shrink from this responsibility. -Tim Cook, Apple Inc.

Is this churchillian? I mean, does it motivate one to fight or believe (in something)? Is this profound? Will we take it with us through life’s trials and tribulations? Is it the mind of a sage? Perhaps such wisdom will save us someday. Or is this a new level of bullshit-pure never before heard? Is it a mind that makes a movie? I don’t know why this churns a feeling of hostile indifference in me. It’s the same feeling I get when I hear conspiracy theorist’s churn about how a flag can wave (or not wave) when supplanted on the moon. Even though some people think this little diddi by Tim Cook was worth every brief word, I profanely disagree. Fu*k! I think Tim Cook and Apple are shameful and out of order and the company should be punished for insubordination (to humanity). I also think it is an example of how low the corporate world can go–without even knowing it’s reached new lows. But that’s the world we live in, eh! That said, I also think the FBI should be disbanded and should have never been created in the first place. The NSA is just another krapp government agency and also deserves to be in the trash heap of authoritarian, war-mongering government history. These types of law & order and war-mongering institutions, set along side greed-mongering corporations, should be proof enough of the neo-feudalism that so many are confusing with fascism. Yet nothing happens. At beast, all the hordes of corpo automatons think is that the government is not the same as a private corporation. Really? Private corporations deserve to make money, they say. Government is there to protect us, they add. Etc., etc. In fact, in a healthy democracy, these entities, these institutions, would look quite different. And there we have it, eh, dear worst-reader? Do we live in a healthy, functioning democracy? But I digress. §As I worst-said here, Apple taking a position where it tries to protect its bottom line–and let’s face it, if Apple were to lose its ability to secure and encrypt its iPhones the ramifications on its bottom line would be horrendous–and thereby turning the government into the boogyman seems like a stretch at best and yelling fire in a crowded theatre at worst. Who does Apple and Tim Cook think they are? And let me reiterate one more time. I’m not defending the FBI or the government here. It’s just that the reaction to this cute little bullshit speech about Apple’s bottom line has opened a door of sympathy when a door of hostile disapproval should be ripped off its hinges. But I guess with all the dysfunction ruling our lives, it’s hard to see through the mirror of self annihilation. So let Apple continue to move jobs abroad, hide tax revenues from the American people, have the poor of the world make its products in sweatshops and covering it all up in rose-gold. Rant on. -Tommi

Contradictions In The Skies Of Greed

Can’t believe what I heard this morn while listening to a BBC News podcast. Get this, dear worst-reader. The “news” is promoting the idear that airlines might have to raise ticket fares on account of climate change. Climate change is gonna mean they have to fly longer and burn more fuel to get through the/our dirty atmosphere. I say “news” because in other news something completely different is being reported–and I’m wondering if these are two different things. Now, I don’t know about you, but something is up. For example, is it possible that airlines–practically a monopolised industry these days–are a bit pissed that they had to release info about their high profits due to low oil prices? To counter that, I guess, they have to blame climate change for not giving us (passengers) a bit more than krappy peanuts.

Rant on. -T

Links that motivated this post:

Packaging Hell And Out Of Season Berries

hell packaging
Favorite feel-good food from my beloved America. But the packaging. Who designs, engineers, makes the packaging? College grads.

Don’t worry, dear worst-reader. We all have too much time on our hands–especially during this time of year. The fact that I’m projecting my (too much) time on others in this manner is yet another indication that the transition from industrial age > technical servitude is almost complete. The good thing? It’s just a blog. The bad thing. It’s a blog with nuggets of truth, albeit worst-writer truth. Which means. Just a few more industries need to be decimated in order to fulfill the wishes of the ghosts of the robber barons of yesteryore. You know. Those ghosts are the ones that the baby boomer generation pray to. Just imagine the image of that prayer. And so. Anyone wonder why things are so bad, why there is no future–unless you’re already rich or you’re parents will inherit you something. Indeed. Otherwise, the working stiffs of this nation lay claim to all this free time and call it Xmas. They/we hide behind the mask of midnight mass and the thrill of something coming down our chimney–that chimney really being a metaphor for our throats. And so. We Throats celebrate with friends and family, including all those that have been exploited in one way or another–especially the inner family throat exploits. But, of course, rational minds call this free-loading time of year simply #americant; yet another perfected by-product of consuming to survive. Merry this or merry that. Buy this or buy that. And find your only solace in the innocence you brought into this world through some seriously fucked up loins. Or maybe not. Let’s move on. §Just get a load of the links below. Get a good load of them. I mean, this is the season to be jolly and, more importantly, to charge up the credit cards, or, if you’re lucky, get another credit card so that you can charge that one up–adding it to the ones you’ll already never pay off. Free money, eh, worst-reader. Yeah, it’s all free money. §That said. I really miss American cereal. What I don’t miss is the packaging. First. Sorry for the bad pic (above). I’m still trying to figure how to work my new-fangled iPhone 6s camera (which I bought outright, no credit, 64GB!) It’s just that, I thought I would throw this rant out there into the ether of blogging nothingness. Who the fuck makes the packing of cereal boxes? Why is it that I can’t open these friggin’ boxes without always ripping the lids? Who makes this krapp! And why? I know. I know. They do it just to piss of worst-writer. But then worst-writer knows something they don’t. For example. Cereal box packaging is made and designed by college grads. People go to college to get a job so they can make deficient packaging. Just look at the result–the result of what all the college grads do. Doesn’t that say something about college? I mean, heck, the entire US government is managed by college grads. Yet college today has no more value than a high-school forty years ago. What could that mean? At the least, we know what previous generations have done to the whole shebang. Btw, is that the reason we deplete the future for our children? But I digress. Or do I? §The other day my mom bought blackberries. I watched her stand in front of the huge display of blackberries at (you know what store). I told her, “Mom, they’re waaaaaay out of season. People shouldn’t buy waaaaaay out of season fruit. It’s bad for the environment.” She turned to me, she gestured to the size of the display of blackberries. It was the size of a friggin’ pool. Blackberries in small and large plastic containers at least fifteen feet long, five feet wide, stacked on plastic box on the other. My mom winked that cute republican wink and without saying a word I knew her response. “Don’t worry chummy, the environment is here to serve me. That’s why I came to this country.” And so. When we got home I tried a berry. And to my un-surprise they taste like shit. I swear they do. They taste like water coloured mush paper. “Add some sugar,” my mom said. And then I realized something. Yeah. Add some sugar. Add some butter. Put cream on it. That’s how America rolls! I know. I know. That’s how the whole western world rolls. But I’m not in the western world right now. I’m in America where presidential candidates complain about immigrants. And if those immigrants are removed from the American equation then no one will have shitty tasting blackberries to choke on anymore. Wow. Things to weigh while we all have a bit too much time to kill. Yeah. Rant on.

hell fruit
Blackberries. From where? Picked by who? Totally out of season. They taste like krapp. Just add sugar.

-Tommi

Links that helped motivate this post:

 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:

Forget Sheople. You're Really Cattle.

airplane seats
Obviously asking for cramped space like this is asking for too much.

It’s that time of year again, dear worst-reader. Travel time. Destination: India. Egypt. Ocean City, MD. All before xmas. Which reminds me of that movie Network when the guy says “We’re as mad as hell and we’re not going to take it anymore”? Boy was he wrong! No one is mad and everyone is gonna take it. Reason? There is nothing we can do. Well, there was something we could have done but since that boat has already sailed, this is where we’re at. I’m referring, of course, to the ramifications of thirty-plus years of heeding the call of political conservatism. Inaction, btw, is also heeding the call. I know. I know. I rant and rave about this krapp way too much. But seriously. You wanna know what ails everything? Political conservatism is what ails everything. It is that simple. I’m not talkin’ right or left or republican or democrat. I’m talking about the fact that we missed the chance to allow some hippies to run the frickin’ show. And not only that, but through the lightening bolt of Zeus, or something similar, some of those really cool hippies were turned into conservatives. (Can you say Steve Jobs?) Nomatter. At the least, political conservatism has made things very, very complex. With that in mind, how do we know that conservatism is the real problem? Again. It’s simple. Just look at how corporate #americant operates. How it’s managed? Who manages (and works for) it? How has it become part of the political process? Etc. All one has to do is look at the recent diesel emissions BS. Then there’s the too big to fail banking industry. And let’s not forget the airline industry. What a crock of krapp these “managers” are, eh! I mean, if anything represents the ills (and ails) of political conservatism and it’s negative after-effects on society, then it has to be the airline industry. What have they been doing over the years–other than consolidating into a monopoly? Cheaper fairs? Not really. Pay extra for luggage? But of course. Oh, you have to pay extra for peanuts, too. You want pepper in that tomato juice you just paid five dollars for? Those little pepper condiment bags are gonna cost someday, too.

 

standing seats

Now that they are making profits like never before, gotten rid of most of their rivals, what do they come up with? But of course. New & improved seating arrangements. (Sarcasm off.) The joke (for moi) is that I did some consulting work for Lufthansa once where I got the opportunity to attend a trade fair. I think it was in Frankfurt in ’97. At that fair an airline seat maker was showing off a new invention and, of course, an improved profit-maker for configuring economy class seating on an airliner. And what did they come up with? That’s right. It’s easy. You just turn sheep into cattle. Of course, that was a long time ago. I can even remember the remarks of some of the corporates around me. They were joking that upright, stand-up, vertical seating would never work on airlines because people can’t puke standing up. It will also cause dizziness and undo stress on passengers. But then there was that one corporatists who always cuts to the chase. But it will be profitable, he said. Yeah. That it will be.

Good luck suckers. Consume to survive. Rant on. -tommi

Links that motivated this post:

What Things Are Really About

Failure. That’s what things are really about. Or maybe not. §Gotta throw this out there in the digital ether. Something strange happened the other day. It hit me hard, dear worst-reader. Yeah. Something strange and hard hit me the other day while I was watching TWIT #532. I mean, I listen to podcasts daily. Most of the podcasts I listen to are audio but some are video. I listen/watch video podcasts more if they were available. Leo Laporte is the video podcaster I listen to the most because, well, he’s the one that offers the most. At least he offers the most when it comes to technology. He offers stuff about tech security, tech legal issues, tech what-to-buy, tech Apple, tech Google, so on and so forth. But I have to admit. I wish Laporte would take his wondrous podcasting resource and offer up a daily news show. A show not about tech. Something about national politics, world news, etc. I mean, why not? Even though there’s plenty of news stuff out there in audio podcasting, there really is very little offered in video podcasting. Btw, I used to watch Rachel Maddow’s iTunes show but her overlords stopped publishing it. Gee, I wonder why. I mean. Obviously it’s beyond MSNBC’s means to simply publish the show via RSS or iTunes? Oh wait. The great minds running MSNBC actually think if they publish the show as a video podcast they are then missing out on some relevant revenue streams. Right? ($$$) I mean. Seriously? (Sarcasm off.) §Which brings me full circle to the thing that hit me real hard the other day. Like I said, I was watching TWIT #532 while doing my morning chores–which mostly consists of cleaning up the mess in the kitchen from the night before–when at about two hours into the video (it was a big mess the night before) Leo & Co. started to veer north, south, east, i.e. beyond technology. In fact, they got down-right political. The issue? Corporatism. And what corporatism is really about. Here’s how it breaks down. Some trophy executive, who supposedly quit her elite schooling to get right into the arena of whose gonna be the next Steve Jobs, screwed up royally. She didn’t really screw up any different than most #americant corporate execs, yet there is something that makes her screw up stand out. For example. Did you know that the blood diagnostic industry in the U.S. has a value of $75 billion? Well. This corporate-college-dropout figured that out all by herself. And do you know what she came up with? That’s right. She came up with a new way to measure the ingredients of blood. Indeed. No more big-gulp size syringes getting filled with whatever’s in my arm. No. This chick has invented a way to take a pin prick full of blood and without having to send it off to a lab she can run it through some wonder machine and in almost an instant the world of blood diagnostics is changed. It’s changed to the tune of redistributing $75 billion, baby. Wow. §Except there’s one problem with this new invention that is supposed to change old paradigms. Would you believe that all of the investors who invested serious money in this “start-up” were clueless to the charade? Can you say due-diligence? I guess it also never occurred to anyone involved in the charade that the company had no credentials in medicine. Indeed. Which brings me ’round to worst-writer reality. Higher education, corporate elites, all of them, are useless these days. And they know it. That’s why they get by with lying, cheating, hoaxing, snake oil. Just like Steve Jobs. Right? Or? Wait. Maybe it’s not Jobs we should be looking at here for inspiration. Maybe we should be looking at VW, Lehman Brothers, GM, WorldCom, Enron, #americant, etc. Speaking of corporates cheating and lying. Interested in knowing how this new blood diagnostic company lied about blood test results in order to get preliminary approval for further testing? Get this. They actually did all blood testing on regular (old) testing equipment and not their own newly developed equipment. That way they could make sure they met government standards. Any of this sound familiar? Indeed it does.

Rant on. -Tommi

Links that helped with this post:

A comprehensive guide to Theranos’s troubles and what it means for you – The Washington Post

This Week In Tech #532 | twit.tv

Blood test startup faces scrutiny |Tech Times