Censorship Nation #WhinyLittleBitch

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Screenshot of a word defined.

Gawk. Wow. There is a difference between the verb and the noun? Don’t you hate it when that happens, dear worst-reader? I mean, gawk as a noun doesn’t sound as bad as gawk as a verb. Or am I splitting hairs here? But then again, now that the world’s greatest experiment in pseudo democracy is pretty much a censored, authoritarian, pseudo politbüro state, what difference does it make if a gawker is awkward or just plain (looks) stupid?

Now that “journalists” are labelling the Hogan/Gawker lawsuit a form of censorship, I’m really confused. I mean, what purpose does yellow journalism serve? That’s right. It makes money. And you know what? I’m all for making money. (Even if I don’t make any!) Yet now that Gawker has lost in its quest to be a source of asshole-dom, it’s a #whinylittlebitch. I mean, come on. Gawker lost fair and square. Does it matter that a asshole billionaire financed Hulk Hogan’s lawyers? Of course not. That sort of thing happens all the time. It’s called lawyering. Did Gawker, on the other hand, go too far with it’s yellow (click-bait) journalism? Obviously the jury thought it did. Maybe democracy does work. But I digress.

Seriously. Who feels sorry for Gawker or thinks a billionaire has damaged #americant now that we have one less useless yellow journalism website? Won’t it be replaced fast enough by another? Yeah, the whole country is a #whinylittlebitch.

Rant on. -Tommi

Link that motivated this post:

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

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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:

When Investors Cash Out, Mitt Already Made A Killing And Bankruptcy Is Not On Your Side

sports authority sucks and mitt does too

Hi-larry-us, dear worst-reader. I mean, I don’t mean to mock all the people that will ultimately lose their minimum wage jobs here. But then again, maybe they should be mocked. For the life of me, I’ve never understood why people work at a store like Sports Authority. I understand that due to #americant democracy equalling stupidity times a gazillion, people have to work for their crumbs. But why don’t they go out on the streets and

  1. vote out political conservatism (which is obviously the cause of #americant)
  2. demand dignity?

Oh well, so much of this world is beyond me. Then again, #american’t almost voted for Mitt Romney a few years. Anyone remember Mitt? Anyone know why Mitt appears in yet another worstwriter blog post along side a really krappy retailer that deserves to go out of business? Well, now that one of the worst retailers in history is going bankrupt, perhaps a bit of history about where this company came from is due. Or maybe not.

Simply put, Sports Authority is a product of Bain & Company. Bain is Mitt Romney’s shell company where he was able to rob american’t of so much of its resources via M&A deals galore stemming out of the 1980s. For you see, dear worst-reader, this is how the smart-asses from Wall Street really screw you. Seriously. They don’t screw you by providing you with loans that you are too stupid to realise you’ll never be able to pay back. Nor do they screw you by being bailed-out because, well, there were millions more suckers than anyone could dream of who were willing to take loans that they didnt know they wouldn’t be able to pay back. Indeed. The likes of Mitt/Bain screw you buy taking advantage the corporate needy and the corporate desperate–and let’s not forget the children of capitalist pigs who have now, pretty much, inherited everything post The DotCom boom. Inheritance, btw, is the true culprit of the Dubya Bush tax cuts that have bankrupted the country. But on that issue I digress and wish all the suckers out there: good luck–you haven’t earned it.

Rant on.

-Tommi

Links that motivated this post:

When It Rains It Goes Kaputt – #AWS Letter And Power Outages From Hell

AWS instance retirement email redacted pic

A post about how sh*t happens when you move to another world.

First. The power goes out in India–a lot. And I don’t mean it goes out during a storm or something. The friggin power goes out all the time. At our new place it goes out ten friggin’ times day. It’s not like we’re living in an old dilapidated house, either. We’re the first residents in a house that was built about three years ago. Obviously the place has been empty for a few years but it’s still brand friggin’ new. Of course, in India, there are supposed to be failsafe solutions to the third-world infrastructure e.g. power. The diesel aggregate for electric support is on the other side of our direct neighbours. Obviously I’m glad they get all the diesel noise and smells when it kicks in. And there’s the problem. When India can’t deliver electricity these generators are supposed to kick-in within seconds. Ours, I think, not unlike the aggregate in me, drinks a bit too much and, well, can’t really kick-in when it’s supposed to. Which wouldn’t be worth complaining about if we weren’t paying extra for power support. And so. The power goes out while I’m working on the Interwebnets and I scream “F*ck the world!” and it takes at least two or three more power surges for things to get going again in our house. Yeah, that sucks.

Second. I got an email the other night from AWS (pic above). AWS is the system I run my blog on. As you may or may not know, dear worst-reader, AWS is, other than Kindle, probably the most profitable part of Jeff Bezos’ Amazon. When I moved my (this) blog to AWS before our move to India, the idear wasn’t about getting a blog host for as little money as possible–which is this service is. Instead I wanted to move as close as possible to being able to host my own web presence someday. You know, have my own web server, my own IP address, my own my own. After getting through all the BS of setting up an instance (their fancy word for a “server”) on AWS I was kinda proud of myself. Wow, I thought. I actually pulled that off. I set up a Linux server. I installed Apache, MySQL and PHP. And then I installed #Wordpress. There were a few burps that didn’t totally turn me off and in the end, well, worstwriter.com has been running ever since. Ok. Almost ever since. At least three times a month I have to reboot my servers to keep my blog running. I realise that there is a configuration problem with the AWS instance and the webserver and wordpress, but, to be honest, I don’t give a sh*t. As cheap as AWS is, this is starting to be NOT WORTH IT. I moved to AWS because I thought that this part of the digital world had its shit together. Obviously it doesn’t. This part of the world still requires the mindset of the morons and automatons that gave the world the likes of Microsoft. These people, just like me, can’t set themselves free. Which means: why should anybody else be able to set themselves free?

With that in mind, all I can say is: Oh well. At least no one reads this blog that could actually be insulted by being called an automaton and delivering sh*t products.

Looks like I’ll have to start paying for my web presence again. Probably will go with wordpress.

Rant on.

-T

Superficial Question Of The Day: What Should 7B People Do According to Mr. Jensen?

the face of god arthur jensen

The question:

What should 7 billion useless eating bottom feeder lemmings do if they are not achievers–but think they are (achievers)?

Ah. The tried & true response to a grand issue stemming out of the sophomoric mindset of a pseudo (master)debater and an unbeknownst polymath (wannabe).

The answer from she/he:

It doesn’t really matter.

But , dear worst-reader, have you listened to Mr. Jensen’s speech to Mr. Beale in the movie “Network”? Here’s the thing about the few & far between that fail to understand the intricacies of what makes life the dismal piece of shit it is. (Btw, most people fail to understand because they can’t remove themselves from a mindset. Remember, it’s important at least once in a lifetime to get up on that desk and sing-whisper Oh Captain My Captain. Or maybe not.) The problem with questions that should reflect a senior (if not graduate) mindset–as opposed to the sophomoric–is that most people are vested in a system for which they have no answers even if they are able to ask the right question(s). This is the result of the amoral and delusional dependencies of the teat that is being sucked. With that in mind:

What does Mr. Wizard and all-knowing Tommi, aka worst-writer, think should happen to 7 billion people that he considers useless lemmings, automatons and compulsive behaviourists–aka careerists, corpos, and/or those who think they’ve actually “worked” for what they have(not), etc.?

First, are you serious, dear worst-reader? Asking me what I think should happen to 7B people just because I’m critical of 300m #americants because they are incapable of seeing how their behaviour (very, very bad behaviour) is the reason the world is in the situation it’s in? Just because I’m arrogant and stuck-up and on a pedestal in my ranting and raving, the only question you can ask me is a question that not only changes the subject but also steers the debate away from the subject?

Gee, dear worst-reader, it seems we’ve come to an impasse. If that’s the case, allow me to interject (in the debate without sustaining negative points for going off subject):

What’s the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow? (That’s from another well written movie where nuggets of wisdom would not only entertain the automaton lemmings but also provide a bit of fodder for (almost deep) thought.)

Sorry, but I prefer to at least try to go beyond the sophomoric in my quest for knowledge. But since I’m in a good mood this morning and all I got is the sophomoric surrounding me, I’ll create this blogpost to, at the least, amuse myself.

The question that should be asked regarding why the world is the way it is isn’t about what I or anybody thinks 7b people should do? In fact, my ranting is, at most, about 300m Americans (or, as I like to put it: #americants). I suppose 300m compared to 7b doesn’t really matter to anyone that can’t see beyond the knotted shoelace that represents her/his life. Yet, because I don’t see things in terms of banks and corporations and government and politicians, there is no way that I can provide a vested answer to a sophomoric question–from someone who thinks being an automaton is synonymous with being an achiever. But, again, I’m feeling amused this morn–which is synonymous with indulge-me.

Things like Big-Brother and double-speak (oh no, that’s stuff from a book that wasn’t written by a nutjub) have moulded the mindset of so many that, again, people can’t tell the difference between reality and delusion. My ranting isn’t about 7b people nor is it about the 1%, yet we are dealing with an issue of major social and judicial implications. (Btw, social and judicial in the same worst-written sentence could be construed as synonymous with right and wrong, truth and lie, pomegranate and toothpicks, etc.) Simply put, my ranting is about the behaviour of those who think they have achieved something in their measly lives simply because something has trickled down to them. I could use the term neo-feudalism at this point but it’s probably better if I just breath. There. Done.

Reminder. It doesn’t really matter.

All those years that I bitched and moaned about being a failure because I couldn’t cope with the corporate world or the convention of family life, etc., were really about questioning the life of all the lemmings that I followed. But that’s how the lemming-thug-life is, right? While everyone else trudges along, no one notices what they are actually doing thereby the only thing that has really trickled down to them is greed, narcism and insert your favourite (or all) of the other deadly sins here. The saddest part about my ranting and all-knowing arrogance–and thereby getting into sophomoric debates–is that through out my life I have never met a single person that didn’t achieve above and beyond their ability to behave and/or suck up to someone else. That is the true loss of this life that I have to die with. I know that there are achievers out there. I’ve read about them, I see them in the news and on the interwebnets. But to have met someone that is an actual achiever? No. Nothing. Nada. Kaputt. As sad as that is, I laugh about it now because some (who debate me) think I am all-knowing when in fact I’m just not delusional. I’m not delusional because I’ve never been able, via the trickle down of something, to afford it. Wow, Mr. Beale, aka worst-reader, you might be right. You have seen God.

Rant on.

-Tommi

PS

Below is the transcript from the movie “Network” of the speech that Mr. Jensen (the 1%) gives to the delusional Mr. Beale (300m automaton non-achieving #americants). Although written over forty years ago, this speech should be studied by the compulsive behaviourists that make up the lemming automaton workforce who actually think they achieve on a daily basis as they suck on the teat of mother trickle-down. And on that note…

But I digress.

The Speech

Jensen: You have meddled with the primal forces of nature, Mr. Beale, and I won’t have it! Is that clear? You think you’ve merely stopped a business deal. That is not the case. The Arabs have taken billions of dollars out of this country, and now they must put it back! It is ebb and flow, tidal gravity! It is ecological balance!

You are an old man who thinks in terms of nations and peoples. There are no nations. There are no peoples. There are no Russians. There are no Arabs. There are no third worlds. There is no West. There is only one holistic system of systems, one vast and inane, interwoven, interacting, multivariate, multinational dominion of dollars. Petro-dollars, electro-dollars, multi-dollars, reichmarks, rins, rubles, pounds, and shekels.

It is the international system of currency which determines the totality of life on this planet. That is the natural order of things today. That is the atomic and subatomic and galactic structure of things today! And YOU have meddled with the primal forces of nature, and YOU WILL ATONE!

Am I getting through to you, Mr. Beale?

You get up on your little twenty-one inch screen and howl about America and democracy. There is no America. There is no democracy. There is only IBM and ITT and AT&T and DuPont, Dow, Union Carbide, and Exxon. Those are the nations of the world today.

What do you think the Russians talk about in their councils of state, Karl Marx? They get out their linear programming charts, statistical decision theories, minimax solutions, and compute the price-cost probabilities of their transactions and investments, just like we do.

We no longer live in a world of nations and ideologies, Mr. Beale. The world is a college of corporations, inexorably determined by the immutable bylaws of business. The world is a business, Mr. Beale. It has been since man crawled out of the slime. And our children will live, Mr. Beale, to see that perfect world in which there’s no war or famine, oppression or brutality — one vast and ecumenical holding company, for whom all men will work to serve a common profit, in which all men will hold a share of stock, all necessities provided, all anxieties tranquillised, all boredom amused.

And I have chosen you, Mr. Beale, to preach this evangel.

Beale: But why me?

Jensen: Because you’re on television, dummy. Sixty million people watch you every night of the week, Monday through Friday.

Beale: I have seen the face of God.

Jensen: You just might be right, Mr. Beale.

-end transcript-

Prince v Metallica, Deposing The Middleman, Boxsets In Heaven

worst boxset

First A. This post is NSFW. First B. The window of opportunity has closed. We are screwed because moneyed interests are the new Gods of art, creativity and life. Or. I would really like to see a change in the music industrial complex now that Prince is gone.

Second. I am a child of two mothers. The first mother is the cold fucking war. And what a cold bitch she was. My second mother was the fucking music industry which, to this day, I wish I would have never suckled her teat.

Third. Not that it matters, but here are a few artists that disillusioned me in a grand way.

– Elvis (he never gave me a Cadillac and I met at least three of his illegitimate children and they were all assholes)
– Charlie Chaplin (communist bastard)
David Mamet (boy is this guy a loon in reality)
– Prince (I even refused to copy his box set–don’t see pic above)

Fourth. Not that it matters even more, here a list of artists that illusioned me.

– Elvis (because if god was a man (and she wasn’t) this is what he would sound like)
– Charlie Chaplin (you fucking communist)
– David Mamet (thank you mother may I have another)
– Prince (short guys need a break too sometimes)

Moving on.

It took a lot of years for me to be a able to afford music. Reason? Well, money, of course. I’m sure, like many others, in my youth I had to prioritise expenses. That meant that through my late teens to early adulthood the only music I ever owned was a few vinyl albums and a small collection of cassette tapes. Indeed, through this “ownership” I was able to enjoy Elvis, Kiss, Barbara Streisand, Johnny Cash, etc. The only way to listen to new music was to listen to radio or, get this, share with friends. Eventually listening to vinyl was replaced full-time by cassette tape. Reason? Friends. And. I couldn’t copy vinyl–in order to do something as simple as listen to music. And get this. I listened to cassette tapes until my late 30s–well into the 1990s. Reason? You guessed it. Money.

By the mid-80s I was living here or there and trying to go to this college or that college and all the while being influenced, whether I liked it or not, by music. Music was everywhere. Once, while enjoying an evening out with a bimbo on a cheap date at some dive-bar, I asked her: “how is it we can listen to the music in here without paying for it but if I want to listen to it at home it costs me an arm and leg?” (I know. It’s a naive question. But go with it for now.) She didn’t understand my question. At the time I was in a second year economics course where the music industry and its profits was our topic of study. She was learning the science of space engineering–or something like that–which was kinda cool since I can claim to have spent some time at a college that produced two NASA astronauts.

The reason I asked such a question about music was because, other than fucking really smart college bimbos, I liked listening to music. Yet I couldn’t understand why, if music was everywhere, it was so expensive to have with me at home? Indeed, dear worst-reader, my bitterness at not having any money to afford the simple things in life (other than really cheap dates) started early. I guess being an American I was spoiled. (No duh!) I had to put gas into my car so that I could drive to work but I when I worked I didn’t earn enough to pay rent, gas, college and have the luxury of music at home? Seriously? I never liked the idea of music being a commodity. Obviously it wasn’t food or water but it was part of life. For that reason, I hated radio because it was more a bombardment of boredom and redundancy than it was a medium of artistry fucked by commerce.

Cassette tapes at the time cost somewhere between $5-$10 but you could get them real cheap used or, better yet, pay nothing by copying them from friends. Anyone out there remember those double cassette decks? Needless to say, by the time I skipped town on the freak show–i.e. jumped the ugly blossoming #americant ship of Reaganomics–I had a nice collection of cassette tapes with music from the 60s, 70s and even the confused 80s. Cassettes, btw, are the reason I prefer albums over singles. I feel as though, from the 70s on, certain musicians cultivated the album almost as though they were writing a novel. To me, buying singles is just stupid. Fucking Buddy Holly, bless is soul, is dead, man. I want an album that tells a whole story. But I digress.

By the time I was a young adult–scavenging through this consume to survive life–I had become so disillusioned with the bullshit of the music industry that I practically gave up on it. I was satisfied with my old collection of tapes–including a few tapes by Prince. When I moved to Europe in 1989, the only stuff I took with me, other than clothes and a bunch of used paperback books, were, among others, the Batman soundtrack.

Throughout the 90s I was working and traveling in Europe. During this time I entered into what I call my dead music years. That is, I can’t remember buying one album or artist during the whole period. By the late 90s, though, there was something happening that beckoned my return to music consumption. One cool thing about working and traveling around Europe was that jazz bars were usually pretty easy to find in all major cities. I fell in love with live jazz music whether in Stockholm, Madrid or Paris. Once the traveling started to wane (by the end of the 90s), I yearned for this music evermore. Having met some audiophiles here and there, I quickly had a collection of burned CDs of jazz galore. I think I got my first CD player and stereo system in 1999. Enough about my stingy music preferences.

Like I said, when it came to buying music–actually paying for it so I could listen to it while in the bathtub or jogging or fucking some bimbo–I was skewed. I gladly paid money to hear music live but when it came to the ridiculous cost of owning it and then having the means of actually playing it through a decent sound system–fuck that! By the turn of the millennial my skepticism and cynicism for the music industry was at a pinnacle. The music business was more of a scam than ever before. I mean, come on, here’s a question for ya, dear worst-reader: how often has music been paid for twice (if not more) as people moved from analog to digital? What? Never thought about that? The music industry certainly thought about it. Ka-ching!

Cassette tape was my favourite way of listening to music for more than twenty years. All the while, it never crossed my mind that I was in anyway duping a musician when I copied a cassette–or made one of those fancy compile tapes. Did I care that ultimately music was/is a business? Fuck no. It’s just fucking music and if you don’t play it so that people can listen to it, well, go make your money elsewhere. Do I espouse an arrogant point-of-view? Damn right I do. But I assure it’s no more arrogant than those rich middlemen or lame-ass “artists” that think getting out of bed requires a price paid. My point is, damn right I’m arrogant about how the music industry has screwed us (all). But as I write this, I stand by it. And in my re-awakened anger, I’m also getting ahead of myself.

Maybe a third of my cassette tape collection up to the point of giving up analog music around 2005 was copied music. That meant that well into the era of Compact Discs, I was still listening to analog music–most of which I paid for. As far as what I didn’t pay for (directly), I no longer copied cassette to cassette but CD to cassette. The itch of digital was there; the itch of convenience, as well. In the early 2000s I think I downloaded three songs from Napster. The mp3 quality at the time sucked. Then Apple bought SoundJam which they turned into the music greed monster iTunes. When Apple declared that one song download would cost .99c, I quickly started to hate Steve Jobs for changing the music industry the wrong way. Do you know how many .99c I would have to pay to download my music collection? In fact, the whole music industry, with the help of Jobs–as far as I’m concerned–is the first human endeavour to actually immortalise what should have been a dying middle-man, top-down driven industry where the price of an album or song is the same as it ever was (if not raised) yet the costs of distribution has been moved to almost nil. Indeed. The old-economy of music won. The rest of us lost.

For most of my life I got to listen to a lot of music by ways other than compensating the middleman of comfortably contracted musicians. Does that make me a criminal? In the eyes of certain musicians, I am most definitely a criminal. In the eyes of misconstrued law making by government that is owned by moneyed interests, I am also most definitely a criminal. My response to being labelled a criminal, though, is thus: fuck you. With the recent passing of Prince, I feel compelled to say it again–but this time not out loud and not, out of respect, to him.

Allow me to interject a new fiend: Metallica.

I recall vividly Princes’ fight with the company he signed a contract with. This fight was so stupid that he even changed his name to a symbol in order to avoid that contract. Even though I was and will always be a big admirer of him and his music, he really lost me when he did this krapp. It’s not that I don’t think he deserves ownership of his music. Of course he does. But he, like so many other artists, signed it away. I suppose I could have some sympathy for him if he were an artist that came out of nothing. But his “career” started at a very young age. He was well schooled and learned in the industry by the time he signed with a record company. When that record company decided to sell boxsets of his music–because it was trying to greedily offset what it considered losses from internet downloads–he suddenly took a stand. A stand for what? As far as I’m concerned, the stand he took against his contract ruined his musical career. Or maybe he had already peaked. Whatever. He should/could have enjoyed his days but the bitterness ate him up from the inside. Or maybe not.

Of course, Prince is not alone. The other musician(s) I love to hate because of their reaction to file sharing, the Internet and modernity: Metallica. Talk about jerk-wads and greedy little cock-suckers that play their guitars and wave their long hair as though their dicks are their mouths! Since I won’t say it to Prince right now, this goes out to musicians who put their bank accounts before the ears of those who will listen. Fuck you Metallica for being the pricks you are when it comes to kids just wanting to listen to your music and don’t give a shit about what contract you signed with the devil to make you popular! Fuck you double!

One last thought. I hope Prince Roger Nelson sees the truth about the music industry and how it screwed not only him but everyone who deserves to admire his art without the coercion of greedy middlemen. And fuck Metallica thrice.

Rant on. -Tommi

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

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