“I think it’s probably more of a privilege. Do you consider food a right? Do you consider clothing a right? Do you consider shelter a right? What we have as rights are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. We have the right to freedom. Past that point, everything else is a limited resource that we have to use our opportunities given to us so that we can afford those things.” -Sen. Ron Johnson
Quote above is a response by Sen. Ron Johnson (R) when asked by a student last year if he believed health care is a right. What better exemplifies the skewed if not screwed right wing political ideology that has been made normal these days? Now don’t get me wrong, dear worst-reader. I too believe in personal freedom and inalienable rights–especially when it comes to failing and simply exiting the rat race (which should also be an inalienable right). What I don’t believe in is how some are able to twist words like freedom so that what should be a basic right get turned into money grubbing privilege so that a few rich people can scam everybody else. Indeed. That’s ultimately what Ron Johnson’s words mean. We all are free, he says. But some are more free to be able to screw you over–if you can’t pay your way. And so. As someone who found a way out of this awfulness, my hat is off to Republicans and conservatives in my beloved (and missed) #Americant and how they have so brilliantly twisted and skewed the game to their favour–and gotten so many people to vote against their own best interests. Yeah, baby. The land of free to be stupid is steadfast in its faith of Lord Greed, the God of Money and those who would follow.
Just received an email from an old friend who went to the theatre the other night back home. Specifically, he went to the theatre in Wash DC, my old stomping ground. And what did he see? 1984 as play, eh? Done by a bunch of iPhone totting liberals, I bet. Oh well. Obviously, as worstwriter and failed playwright, I can’t let this one go by without worst-comment. And so…
George Orwell been put to the stage eh. Whoop-dee-f’n-doo! More of the same pseudo-intellectual regurgitation mixed with uncreative minds—what else can compulsive behaviourists working in “theatre” do? So how is Winston’s hole in the wall? And what about those intimidating rats? Room-101 still missing a hinge on the door? Does Julia spit or swallow—for big brother? The only problem with Orwell right now is that it’s probably too late to figure him out or even apply what he wrote to what’s going on politically in this worst-world. More appropriate (at this time) would be Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, which was done in NYC during and after Trump’s election. I kinda cover that here.
Doing 1984 (as a play) now because of Trump only reassures me that I’ve always been right about the psuedo creative environment of #Americant theatre—especially New York or London theatre. I mean, if there’s any proof of the lack of creativity in the arts right now, it’s in these places. And since we live a world that has long forgotten how to nurture creativity, I suppose this is all that’s left to be done. My worst-point being: it’s too late to show people Orwell. He should have been all over stages and airwaves in the early 90s when Faux Newz started in the US. Btw, conservatives figured out in the 70s that to circumvent the antifascist ideals Orwell espoused, just let the masses consume themselves to death. Yeah, baby. Consume-to-surivive. Seems to have worked very well up to now. But I digress.
Subtitle: What The Ancients Forgot In Their Writing Of The Dystopian Future We Live In Now.
Since we are in this place dear worst-reader, this dystopia place so well designed and executed (but by whom), let’s have a moment or thrice to worst-write about fear, i.e., that which rules (us). I’m not one to say I fear nothing. I am afeared aplenty. Snakes, for example. I can’t stand them. Small and tight spaces is something else I can’t stand (platzangst). And then there’s my fear of height. Actually I don’t really suffer from a fear of heights. Instead I have a fear of distance. Specifically, I fear distance between my feet and the ground–and, in some cases, I fear the distance between smart people and stupid people. (But that’s all another post.) And then there’s one last fear I shall not forget. Perhaps this is the most important fear of them all. That’s right, dear worst-reader, I fear The Female. Better put, I fear the wrath of woman scorned. Yea, baby. Now that’s something to run away from–unless, of course, you’re a fan of comb-overs. And while on the topic of fear (and comb-overs), have a look at this to begin the process of dealing with the dystopia you’ve been putting-up:
Nationally, Clinton picked up 54 percent of women voters compared with Trump’s mere 42 percent. But Trump outperformed Clinton among white women, winning 53 percent of voters in that demographic. Drilling down further, he beat Clinton among white women without college degrees by 27 points. In the three states that decided the election — Wisconsin, Pennsylvania, and Michigan — that margin was enough to send Trump to the White House.1
The best way I’ve always found to describe fear, other than worst-writing about my beloved #americant and/or free-to-be-stupid people, is to worst-write about those who are so much better than worst-moi at doing it, e.g.: George Orwell and his wonderfully appropriate novel Nineteen Eightyfour. Specifically, understanding fear is best done by considering the fear of Winston Smith. As the story goes, it is revealed, after Winston meets a girl, that he is afraid of rats. Now, obviously, in the real world, in a world of man-rule (and not patriarchy miss-rule2), no man would freak out in front of a fresh lover when a rat pokes its head of a hole in her wall3. In fact, to prove his worthiness and to get another good fcuk out of her, a real man would kill that fcuking rat toot-suite and immediately after washing his hands (of the mess), do the nasty-deed again and thereby impose upon his new lover his obsession with other useful orifices. But enough about worst-writer’s fantasies.
Orwell had to offer up something in his story to show how fear is used to control the automatons that enable the system. I guess rats were (are) a good place to start. What’s missing in the story, though, is the automatons. Lucky for us, dear worst-reader, we live in times where we don’t have to look any further to find the automatons that have caused our dystopia. They are among us, we among them. And so. The necessity of the state to inflict fear as a means of control has kinda shifted in the last few decades. Reason? Fear is now manifested in our inability to look under the comb-overs that rule us. And not just President Stupid’s comb-over. The reality is, the rat in the story means nothing. Winston’s face being eaten by that rat also means nothing. And another thing that means nothing is the love that Winston betrays–as though Orwell gives a hoot about love. Indeed. What Orwell is dealing with is how the world (and those in it) so willingly allow themselves to be ruled by what’s under their comb-overs.
But I’m almost off subject. This is supposed to be yet another worst-post about worst-writer’s fear(s). And you know what motivated that fear? The women in the pic above that voted for president comb-over and the pic of the spider. Which one afears me more? And keep this in mind. Of all of the things I fear, one of them will NEVER be the spider. The reason for that is because I know the people that have enabled, facilitated our dystopia. You know them, too, dear worst-reader. Just take a moment. Take a deep breath. Feel the world clog up the lungs of your mind. Take a deep look at the spiders and snakes and distances (between us) that cause all the fear. And say with me: I am not afraid of spiders. I am only afraid of what that spider looks like, what it carries on its back, the texture that makes it what it is. It reminds so much of the mind-set of a woman scorned, of president stupid and of what’s underneath that which should be covered–forevermore.
All hail THE COMB-OVER.
Rant on.
-T
PS While I’m on yet another rant about blaming the women-folk for electing president stupid, the third pic above I thought would be appropriate. Maybe it’s not. Whatever.
Source: various screenshots spliced together to help worst-readers everywhere with a very complicated issue. Or maybe not. Contact me for TPP… I mean copyright infringement.
This post is NSFW due to some language issues I’m having.
The art of the deal. Rule #1. Lie. Rule #2. Lie. Rule #3. You guessed it, dear worst-reader: make it so that the truth is what you say it is. Rule #4. Let there only be one side that sets the rules and that one side can change those rules at will. Or the like. With that in mind, never thought the day would come when my beloved #americant would stand at world’s end–you know, the edge of a flat world where everything falls off if one isn’t careful–with it’s disguise wide open, displaying the man underneath. And do you know what the man underneath is wearing? That’s right. He’s wearing another disguise. Go figure, eh.
What is the difference between a treaty and a trade agreement?
Treaty: an agreement under international law entered into by actors in international law, namely sovereign states and international organizations. A treaty may also be known as an (international) agreement, protocol, covenant, convention, pact, or exchange of letters, among other terms.
Trade Agreement: (also known as trade pact) is a wide ranging tax, tariff and trade treaty that often includes investment guarantees. -Source: interwebnet search
You know, I often think about the opposing voices regarding America’s entry into WW2. Some of those voices were against the US entering the war because (and I paraphrase) America is a business and war is bad for business. Other’s who opposed said that America is a place of playboys and ditch-diggers. That was then, this is now. Seems to still hold.
We are not only in a state of perpetual war but also in a state of perpetual business. Both have never been so good. Profits at most major corporations are through the roof. Shareholders in-the-know have never been more secure. Financial institutions have only once before been as free as they are today. Can you say: hey we’re in pre 1929 America? Indeed. The war machine, in its fight to control the world’s oil is in one hand. In the other hand, big corporations are trying to own everything in order to protect their interests. Enter TPP. When TPP is put into force–and mind you, it will eventually pass–an economic block will be established that has never been seen before. The participants of TPP will represent 40% of the world’s economy, if not more. I don’t know about you but that blows this worst-writer’s mind. All of the countries involved in this, of course, will be lead by the US. Or?
Ok. The ingredients of TPP is a secret. But some stuff is trickling out. Wikileaks supposedly has actual TPP docs, which I’m struggling to read through. A prominent US politician has even spoke out against TPP. And that’s all fine and good. But what is the true reason for TPP? I can’t help but scratch my head over this. One thing that comes to mind is the last time there was a two term Democratic president. Clinton pushed through a similar but smaller scale trade agreement: NAFTA. Now, there’s another two term democratic president and he’s pushing something similar but on a grander scale. When one considers the results of NAFTA, it’s not hard–secrecy here or there–to figure out what’s gonna happen after TPP.
As stated, the actual ingredients of TPP is a secret. It’s as much a secret as the ingredients of TiSA and TTIP. Confused yet? Ok. TTIP is TPP between the US and Europe. TiSA is a kind of tweak or cousin of TPP and includes a few more countries. If one looks at a map of who is involved in all this, one thing–at least in my worst-mind–stands out. Get ready for this one, baby.
None of these trade agreements–even though I think they are treaties (see definitions above)–include any of the big, cheap labor manufacturing countries. India is not in it. Brazil is not in it. And here’s the big one. China is not in it either. Wow! What can that say about these trade agreements? But let’s not stop there. There is one other significant country, albeit not a cheap labor manufacturing giant, that is also not included: Russia. I know that there is some kind of backdoor to let China and India in but why does it have to be a backdoor? And why is China holding out? And what about Russia? Seriously. What’s up with that?
Man, this is so crazy that I don’t know which way to turn. And that’s probably a good thing. Yet I can’t help but worst-conspire to think that these agreements are about something that is much less complicated than a bunch of confusing acronyms or difference between a treaty and a trade agreement. So how ’bout this? I think this is about the US saving face. America has to prepare for the not-so-distant future where empire either solidifies or dies. American corporations, in their obsession to go global and thereby maximise profits at the cost of American manufacturing and labor, have realised that they have to do something to protect themselves. I mean, come on. TPP proposers aren’t stupid enough to forget that other people on this planet can actually think–unlike most voters in the US. The game they’ve played so far was enabled and facilitated by US law and, more importantly, US political ideology. That “political” game has not been played in other countries.
Enter: Neoliberalism. There are a few things neo-liberals didn’t plan for:
they didn’t think they’d be so successful so fast,
they didn’t think it would be this easy to inject political ideology into the #american mindset that would pave the way for so much corporate success
and they didn’t expect the rest of the world to catch on so fast to the lie of the #americant dream.
Neoliberals have kicked some serious ass in the past thirty or so years. Give them and yourselves a hand, suckers!
But what about this TPP stuff? Well, how ’bout this. TPP is really about America posing an ultimatum to the world it has molded. Are you with us or are you against us? (Sound familiar?) You decide peoples and countries of this earth. Whose side are you on? But before you make your decision, heed this: Don’t think you can fuck with us. We gave this planet, this earth-place, business, commerce and the lust of consumption. If you want part of that, pick your friends carefully. Once you do that, all that is left is to keep your people, your new & improved proletariate, from getting in the way. National laws, rules, regulations–they don’t interest us. We took care of laws, rules and regs back home, so don’t think you can pull that krapp on us. If you don’t like the pollution that comes from the manufacturing facilities that make stuff, fuck you! If your cheap labor dies while sewing sneakers for those who can buy them, fuck you! If you can’t stop your people from stealing movies over the interwebnets, Mickey Mouse will come and… fuck you! Etc., etc. Try getting out of the middle ages in the next millennia because like the last millennia this one is ours. You’re welcome people of earth. Until then watch us light you on fire with stuff.
Now! Go dream about buying an iPhone and shut the fuck up.
“His honesty about this paradox or contradiction is what determined him to write Nineteen Eighty-Four as an admonitory parable or fantasy in which ‘Ingsoc’–English Socialism–was the Newspeak term for the ruling ideology. It would have been perfectly easy for him to have avoided this crux. In the late 1940s, a dystopian novel based on the notorious horrors of ‘National Socialism’ would probably have been very well-received. But it would have done nothing to shake the complacency of Western intellectuals concerning the system of state terror for which, at the time, so many of them had either a blind spot or a soft spot.”
“The horrible thing about the Two Minutes Hate was not that one was obliged to act a part, but, on the contrary, that it was impossible to avoid joining in. Within thirty seconds any pretence was always unnecessary. A hideous ecstasy of fear and vindictiveness, a desire to kill, to torture, to smash faces in with a sledge-hammer, seemed to flow through the whole group of people like an electric current, turning one even against one’s will into a grimacing, screaming lunatic. And yet the rage that one felt was an abstract, undirected emotion which could be switched from one object to another like the flame of a blow-lamp. Thus, at one moment Winston’s hatred was not turned against Goldstein at all, but, on the contrary, against Big Brother, the Party, and the Thought Police; and at such moments his heart went out to the lonely, derided heretic on the screen, sole guardian of truth and sanity in a world of lies. And yet the very next instant he was at one with the people about him, and all that was said of Goldstein seemed to him to be true. At those moments his secret loathing of Big Brother changed into adoration, and Big Brother seemed to tower up, an invincible, fearless protector, standing like a rock against the hordes of Asia, and Goldstein, in spite of his isolation, his helplessness, and the doubt that hung about his very existence, seemed like some sinister enchanter, capable by the mere power of his voice of wrecking the structure of civilisation.” -George Orwell, 1984
Another fantastic piece of journalism? Indeed. And it doesn’t matter that mindless television spectacle should remind people of the last efforts to stall the fall of the Roman empire. You know, like they did with those coliseum games way back when. Just watch the vid, dear worst-reader. Three issues of #americant neo-fascism and corporatism are addressed.
Wife beating
Controlling history
Newspeak
Even though the corporation (NFL) behind the television spectacle claim to be against wife beating their only effort in combating it is a bit of commercial air-time with a so-called PSA. That we are presented with a corporation taking responsibility for this dire issue is absurd. There should be adequate laws, if not a constitutional amendment not just protecting but also empowering women. Now. How many jokes have been made in the fraternity halls of #americant about women using the code of ordering pizza when they dial 911 to get help?
The days leading up to the game were full of news about a guy from Oakland named Marshawn. Once again the corporation (NFL) was able to extract a character from their story that millions upon millions could identify with. Or did they, perhaps, extract the wrong character? I’ll let others be the judge of that. But here’s what got under worst-writer’s skin. If you haven’t seen it, check out Marshawn’s Skittles promo. The moment I saw that and then listened to him rebel against corporate authority–by finding a brilliant way to not break his contract and still “talk” to the press–I thought of Trayvon Martin. Wasn’t Trayvon getting Skittles when he was shot by a wannabe-nazi for 1) wearing a hoody, 2) not taking any shit from wannabe-nazi, 3) and telling wannabe-nazi to f-off? Then comes the speculation (from journalist in vid, not mine) that the corporation (NFL) punished Marshawn for his rebellious ways by telling the Seahawks coach not to make him a hero at the end of the game. Yeah, talk about controlling history.
What does the voice of corporatism say? Here a few examples of what it says: Hits to defenceless players; Unnecessary risk; Concussions were down twenty-five percent.Well, as we see in the vid above, the last portion of it featuring the corporations spokesmen, aka the CEO, it speaks in the voice of well positioned PSA’s, contracts for controlling minions and blood letting. Indeed. It says what it knows Das Volk needs to hear. Sometimes the voice uses big words and sometimes it uses fancy words, not that there’s much of a difference between the two for those who can’t understand anyway. In defending what is truly a lust for violence–which the corporation (NFL) knows is all its audiences wants to consume and provides it the foundation for such outrageous profits–it exudes both interest and compassion as though it really cares. Yeah, right. We know what it really cares about. And so. Will the NFL simply outlaw helmet spearing? How about shortening the regular season back down to ten games? How about providing players with medical care after they retire? Oh well. When you’re the authority and you have the power to determine when the sun rises, newspeak is the least of your problems.
