Tuesday, April 30, 2013

I'm the best I can ever be, part eleventybillion

This past ski season I was on new skis.

The first day on them, 75% of the time I thought I'd be re-selling them as soon as possible after the end of the day's activity.

My ideas told to my ski peers on chair rides that day:

weird geometry
seems to ski short
tail hard to work/use

and worst of all

made me feel like a dumbass

Due to procrastination and humility, the resale didn't happen.


My 2d through 5th days, I got onto my Old Reliables and remembered how to ski.

Then got curious -- maybe with the new ski, it wasn't the ski.  Maybe it was me.


I got back onto them and decided to take my time getting to know them.  On first day, I was in all-day clinics and wasn't able to do my usual Get To Know The Skis routine of slow-paced groomer skiing, working from the feet, talking to the skis, asking them what they want.

"Do you like this?  No?  How about this?  Better?  Really?  Worse?  Okay then, what do you prefer?"**

Usually by the end of a half-day doing this, I'm good.

Not with these new skis.


Finally after a good 5 days on them, I started to get their preferences.

The biggest preference was, "stay centered, don't drive the tips, treat them like a 165cm slalom ski."


The "planky" character arose when skiing them flat-based smeary style.  Pretty stiff ski, longitudinally talking, for such a style.  Especially with camber under foot.  And especially with me being a pinner lightweight.

But surprises are good in my world, especially the kind where I find I've been wrong about something and the wrongness was due to me expecting that thing to be what I wanted, rather than what it is.


By the end of the season's good skiing (about 3 weeks before chairs stopped running), I'd decided these new skis are my favorite ever, because of their versatility and their power.

And when I read reviews of them today, I think about how long it took me to humble myself to the skis and learn their design's preferences.

I think that because the ski is polarizing with a lot of detractors, and I think the detractors didn't spend enough time learning the skis, and instead expected them to behave like Radmonger X-Fighter Blowtorch Shredders.


What ski?

Dynastar Cham 97.  178cm for my 150 lbs.

And the "planky" character impression went away forever as soon as I realized that what works for them is smaller, subtler differences in pressure and edge control -- smaller and subtler than I'd needed on any prior ski I'd owned.

Ski them like Barney Hamfist and you'll be fighting them the whole time.

Ski them like a massage therapist with magic fingers, and you're primo.


** As taught to me by Yoda about 11 seasons ago.

fro mah jongg

In the hallowed year in which Bush/Cheney "won" their first term, I traveled to DooRagOh to visit a friend who lived there, a MTB rider and teacher at the kolidge. There was an "IMBA Epic" ride on tap that weekend, along with a trail building day.

I can't remember who I rode with on the Epic day, bunch of locals prolly. But on the trail building day I was in a crew that included my friend and 2 others, one of them being an esteemed MTB journalist who continues in high profile chicken-scratching to this very day. Witness:

Every berm, every twist and turn through this forest, can be executed at speeds that exceed a normal rider's imagination - and the locals use this to their advantage - tempting us with each new section of trail and then crushing us once again. This is the dark soul of Bronson.

I think this is what happens when, to you, writing is nothing more than stringing together cliches from Crime Noir pulp fiction and doing so in service to Marketing 101.


The league of MTB "journalist" types is one where despite their engagement in the habit of writing, they write poorly. Another leading journo who runs a bad-toothed Brit publication is fond of reviewing DH bikes and saying the same 4 things about them... "quick across the ground" and "looks fast" and "fast bike, very quick" and "sets a new standard," etc. Every bike reviewed carries the same qualities, described marginally differently (variables including adjective and adverb choice, and the precise name of the bike model reviewed) but the same old things.

And people say it's great! They praise the "high journalistic standards" forever.


A couple years back a new gear website arose, one that satiates every Over-Educated Striver Chained To A Desk. The reviews are laden with big words, and aggressive bragging about particular runs on distant, expensive-to-get-there places.

It's a trustafarian valhalla, that site. It couldn't be more obvious that it aims toward those with seasonal $25,000 budgets for gear. By which I mean, $25,000 per season. As in, if you ski and MTB, that means you spend $50,000 on gear each year.

Naturally that would mean the site targets the great majority of skiers and MTB riders. For example, I routinely spend at least $100,000 per season on gear. I tend to buy everything that everyone says is "hot" and then try each piece for a day or three, then sell them on the Toobz. It's a good thing I have lots of money and a trust fund lifestyle. Otherwise I might be UnHot.

I'm glad that the site exists. We need more pretentious hipsters who think their image is more important than their abilities, or their self-challenge and the satisfaction of meeting such challenge.


Dropping into one of the zone's longer chutes - easy work for the Bronson.

I can't tell whether that's Steve Jones or Richard Cunningham writing there.

Yep. "Easy work for" the bike. Even if the rider isn't up to it. The bike will handle, in Toobz cliche, "anything I throw at it."

Because the bike is what makes me ride well. If I'm on the wrong Current Hipster 27.45891" inched wheeled bike, I won't rip that gnarly chute, I'll endo and die.

The bike will make you a hero.

Go buy one.

At $10,000 a pop, you can go buy 5.

go team!

When I played lacrosse in college, our team had a huge assortment of personalities. We had hotshots from HS lacrosse, total rookies, and players in between. We had showoff ball-hogs, insecure run-from-possession players, and people who had talent enough to score goals but who were happier making assists. We had players from Long Island, from Gnu Joizey, from Merry-Land, and an occasional midwesterner.

Imagine if we had played like Progressive Democrats.

Instead of working the ball on the field, we'd first ask -- "Who's open for a pass? Is that Mike? He's a reactionary! I heard him say something negative about homosexual men." And then not throw to Mike, even though strategically a pass to Mike is a gold-mine.

When one of our more progressive players gets a 1-on-1 with the goalie, we'd urge him to not score, because it might hurt the goalie's feelings, or some other opponent's feelings -- and horror of horrors, maybe even hurt the entire opposing team's feelings! That would be BAD! So, don't score Jimmy!

When the opposing team crosses the midfield line, we'd make sure to give them space to play as if they were in an uncontested playmaking practice. Sure, tight D would be perfect D, but we probably can't get every player on our team to work tight coverage so we shouldn't let the perfect be the enemy of the good. We'll give Opposing Team room, and make a show of defense.

When they're on the cusp of shooting, instead of stopping the shot, we'll run to the sidelines as a team, and begin a cheerleader-style group chant saying, "those guys sure have lacrosse sorcery on their sides, no way we can stop them!"

And the goal would be scored. Easily.

Because we're not going to get aggressive. That's what knuckledragging misogynist bigot homophobe reactionary Christer crackers do.

We're going to be soft, loving and cuddly. They'll respect us for that, and back off.

And if they don't?

After the game, we'll issue poisonous spiteful derogation toward our Opponents, on the InterWebToobz.

But continue playing the same way once we're on the field.

Monday, April 29, 2013

all purpose, all focus, all the time

So is the important question whether "young people" care about civil liberties?

Or is the important question how & why "young people" learn what are civil liberties, and what importance they play in human society?

How are humans taught, as "young people," about their civil liberties?

What do our glorious, inerrant, continually effectual and constant vectors of progressing equality --Public Schools-- teach "young people"?

Patrick Henry, "give me liberty or give me death."

Declaration of Independence.

(ignore Articles of Confederation, ignore individual rights in organic construct, ignore Constitutional debates between federalists & their opponents)


Civil War fought to defeat slavery!

EMANCIPATION Proclamation!

Civil Rights Act of 1965!

First Black President!

Civil rights? Who needs civil rights?

George Washington couldn't tell a lie, he chopped down the cherry tree.

Finest Democracy on Earth! Global force for progress!

TSA and HomSec protect your freedoms from terrorists!

The ACLU fights for your civil rights!

Sunday, April 28, 2013

hey bumblefuck!

How about you just ignore the rhetoric on Syria, instead?

How does their "rhetoric" actually affect your daily living?

Why would you need to "change" that "rhetoric"? What would that advance?

Do you even know what rhetoric is?

I say we should change their broccoli on Syria. Or their glokferbotulec on Syria.

Hey wait.

How about you stop thinking you have a right to tell Syria, and Syrians, what to do?

Then you won't even have to care about the "rhetoric" on Syria.

It's just a rhetorical question.

Saturday, April 27, 2013

more dis

again toward "dissidents."

Apparently, this outlet gets to determine who is a "dissident" and the list definitely includes Chomsky Chomsky Chomsky Chomsky Chomsky Chomsky, and also Chomsky. And don't forget Chomsky, who wrote Manufacturing Consent, a book about ...wait a minute, I'm having a brain cramp here... hold on... just a sec... oh that's right -- consent being manufactured. And a glorious book it is, written by someone who knows quite a bit about how to manufacture consent by appearing in personal bearing and public presentation to be a kindly old rabbinical scholar while reinforcing most of the symbols of the very things for which consent is being manufactured.

Now THAT is subtlety, my friends. Maybe that's why you admire Chomsky Chomsky Chomsky Chomsky Chomsky Chomsky Chomsky, and also Chomsky.

That, and the fact that he's not a Christer even if he is a '47er.

Never let the perfect be the enemy of the good. And I tell you truly, MIT is one of the biggest forces for good on the planet, if you're into technoprofiteering via war, terror-prevention, weapons advancement, particle tinkering as path to the Godhead, or the simpler need of being able to brag that you graduated some come louder from a competitive school that most people can't even get into.


So like I was saying, the "dissident" perspective is pretty much defined by that magazine linked, and if your view isn't identical to that which is presented as the "dissident" view (according to that magazine) then you're not engaged in Real Dissent.

So glad they're on the scene to provide the parameters of the limits on the boundaries surrounding the framing of the issues.

Because not only are they defining what is Real Dissent, they're also telling us what are the Real Issues.

Oh, you missed that part?

Go back and try again.

he's looking at himself and liking what he sees

Notes From Underground

purveyor of dissent and pop culture,
and part of the blogging diaspora since 2003


In a brief fit of boredom laughed at the stale Dorito before.  Now I have a new chuckle.

Reading this, I decided to assist with the Past Due Date problem.

I would reformat the subheader (or for you Editing Hipster Cred Bonus Points Seekers, sublede) portion of the blog header, as the following.

Notes From Underground

purveyor of dissent as pop culture,
and part of the blogging diaspora since 2003


'Scuse me there broheem, but if you're engaged in dissent, why are you accepting so much of the status quo ante as a given and why so ready to just throw off your tutu and slippers and singletard, and get girlishly drunk?

That's what dissent is all about, I guess.

Fuck yeah that's how things are, and I'm here to tell you, as a serious dissenter, that this is as good as it gets. Best we can do is just complain, mildly if at all, and then label ourselves as dissenters. No, we're not looking at real issues and we're not doing any small thing about any fixable problem. We dissent from the idea that dissent requires we do something besides write circular slice of life observational hipster essentialism because in our world that endeavor is the pinnacle form of dissent.

I want to hate it

...for its obvious aping of a band I never liked** one bit.

But I don't. 

...for its slickness in production.

But I don't.

...for the emasculated weasel, butthurt emo voice.

But I don't.

...for the artisanal synths making everything "pretty."

But, in some small way, I don't.

I am getting old.

Must be time to buy a Volvo and start wearing crisply pressed chinos.


** About that, please hit the link and listen closely to Mr Malkmus considering, among other things, the days spent touring with a tough, angry, serious and very very emo (they wore black, and the singer liked makeup) band of the era. "Give us your self-victimizing cutters, your spoiled-obnoxious-and-sullen masters of video game adventure, your Suburban aspirants to Ivy League Parchment Factories," sang Billy Corgan in a showy, drawly feminized whine, while choking a rubber chicken with one hand and petting an inflatable female love doll's hair using the other.

Friday, April 26, 2013

windbags vs teachers

Those who can't shut up long enough to listen to their "students" responses and who harangue with facticity and shadowboxing rhetoric, while telling themselves they are "teaching" in a "Socratic" way,**


they're not teaching.  They're shaping.

Or grooming.  Or whatever you like to call it.

You can even pretend to be engaged in a dialogue with each "student" where you address each by name and pat heads, affix gold stars, thank them for the apple, or remind them they didn't do the homework you assigned.

You're still grooming.

Socratic learning isn't achieved by a pontiff using windbaggy solipsism which references arcana for the sole purpose of buffing your image as a walking encyclopedia.

You might think to yourself, "well when I take that historic ramble through the 6th century BC, I'm challenging my students to consider the parallels or differences between then and now."

Yes.  Because those parallels and/or differences sure are instructive.

On the face of things, merely based on their own precious visages, they teach us much.

And it's quite intuitive what is learned there -- because the parallels and differences render their own context, you see.

I see it, and it is obvious to me, so you will see it if you are a good enough student.

And if you are not, well buck up pilgrim, I'll give you a gold star when you show you're trying earnestly to think just as I do.


Shapers are aspiring cult leaders.

Or are they more like overzealous gardeners, cutting down tall poppies?


Teachers, on the other hand, are like sun and rain.


** "I'm encouraging them to think.  To think just like I do."

reactionary misogynist homophobe cracker misanthrope pig finds truffle

Faith 'n' begorrah, there's actually one other person blogging who at least peripherally, even if accidentally, understands the model of step outside, be relatively untouched.  It's like finding a 4-leaf clover or my pot o'gold at the end of a rainbow. 

I think I'm gonna dance a triumphant jig and then go onto a forum and bash a feminist on the head with me shillelagh!

Thursday, April 25, 2013

your righteous indignation is puffery

It's shameful that Mr Cheetos-dipped-in-ranch-dressing calls himself a leftist.  Or that other leftists consider him one of them.

Truly the ideal here is for everyone everywhere on Earth to have a Prius, an Audi Crossover, a McMansion with digital infrared security auto-linked to PoPoCentral, full Apple personal technoaccessorizing, and a subscription to Outside magazine.

Since the people who lack all such accoutrements necessary to a Modern Progressive Leftist Lifestyle which Dabbles Occasionally in Outdoor Adventure by Reading Outside at home here in America are just stupid reactionary Tea Party gun nuts who hide in the hills from black helicopters and hold gun-shooting parties that terrify me, I need to look for impoverished people in other nations to defend, strenuously, in my internet comment thread hopping and pontificating with dire moral terror implications following the idea of some other nation's poor people not having a Modern Lifestyle of Technologically Advanced Cocoonery while Enslaved to the Dollar.

Remember always that being on the Left is the superior stance, and that everything which diverges from it is reactionary.  Also bear in mind that your identity as a Leftist can be threatened if someone like Vienna-Sausages-Bathed-in-a-Sea-of-Mayonnaise-and-Ketchup might get labelled or considered as a "leftist" by someone.

It's always about the label.  And about making sure all poor non-white kids** have an iPhone and an iPad.

Whenever brown kids die in an industrial conditions accident that was preventable, the solution is to make sure their society resembles America a whole lot more than it presently does.

By the way, you notice how this applies to the Palestinians?  As compared to the noble Israelis, the Palestinians are dirt-eaters who lack iPhones and iPads.

Hence, it's ennobling and uplifting for Israel to continue expanding into Palestinian lands, because the bonus there is that Palestinians are progressed socioeconomically.  So that's good.


** Who aren't the children of reactionary Tea Party gun nut misogynist bigot homophobes that drive pickup trucks with gun racks and listen to country music and probably voted for Romney/Ryan.

high brows, low understanding

When science serves social image and/or commercial impulses, your thinking it's still actually scientific is like thinking that greytoothed tweaker-hooker gave you that $10 blowjob because she really really loves you and thinks you're a superior human being.

I'm sorry, but fruit flies do not obsess over whether their diet is "balanced" or "largely organic".

Fucking Disneyfied pseudo-science.  What is this shit that drosophila "have 75% of the disease-carrying genes in humans?"  What the fuck?

They're used in genetics because they mutate readily under low (human-safe) levels of radiation, the mutations show up easily in their body ("morphology" if you must, PowerNoggin) and are observable to stupid, un-observant, in-college-to-learn-how-to-party-and-fuck-not-to-expand-my-world students.

That "75% of disease-carrying genes" or whatever?

Made up to make the article sound interesting and the "research" meaningful.

It's a fucking Green Economy whoring fuckjob.

And a Praise the Gifted Child Look at Our Noble Public Schools handjob on the side.


It's sales.

And you're buying.

Don't laugh at yourself too grimly when you consider your public image as an enlightened leftist intellectual, and see what these gullings and Spanish Prisoner victimizings mean on the question of your alleged intellect, your supposed open-minded holistic view, and the integrity (versus base tribalism) displayed by alignment on the sinister side of things.

gauche nouveau

I was going to talk about an actual problem that affects most humans in my society, given that social awareness and a communitarian perspective drive the label I've applied to myself, in sociopolitical marketing terms that is.

So as I was saying, I have this problem in mind that I think could suffer a bit of analysis for the purpose of progressing humanity forward forever.

But you see, the problem goes deeper.  We can't even define the problem accurately because someone gave it one label and I'd like to give it another.

Or I'd like to clarify what the "inventor" meant with his/her label.

As you see, the discussion needs to be focused on the the lingo we use in the field whose aim allegedly is to assess social problems and pose possible solutions for those problems.

Never let the perfect be the enemy of the good.  We're only dealing in the ether here, with no leashes or other fetters on our imagination, but just in case some reactionary might have a beef with something we ought to contain our theorizing. 

We should ignore assessment of the problem itself.

We should definitely avoid solution.

Instead, the problem should be redefined as a semiotic one.

And the solution should be etymologic and nothing more.


Now the quarrel has been resolved.

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

the whinge

As long as there isn't a Department of Opera Glasses and a Department of Crystal Chandeliers and a Department of Safe Bunker Bar Preservation, our boy Fake Henry James is going to complain about the lack of "jobs".  He wants to work for one of Papa Gubby's hot new meliorist-toward-a-nirvana-of-emptiness bureaucratic entities, or at least some hip ballooning new Kickstarter-wannabe, bitcoin-pretender idea that's ready to blow up HUGE bro.

Why would a Fake Henry James, comfortable in his silk smoking jacket stroking a Himalayan cat named Dominique, be concerned about "employment"?

I'll tell you.

Because "leftists" (what Pwoggy PowerNoggins now call themselves, having felt the disparagement now inherent in "progressive") really like to make themselves the vicarious victim, and hold themselves out as "saving" the poor, who lack the "leftist's" wisdom, revolutionary insights, and unique understandings of the wily ways of capitalism.

Via "economics."

And "labor studies" or "employment numbers."


"Say, FH James -- I know quite a few people who are starving right now.  Got any advice for them?"

"Yes of course old sport.  Yes.  Of course.  Spend your leisure time reading Marx and Engels, and devote yourself to becoming a Marxist.  Once you feel comfortable in that position, enter the fray on the internet and bicker over who is the more honest, more truthful, more fidelity-laden Marxist at each particular website where Marxism is discussed.  If you should find yourself in a policy discussion, be sure to direct everyone's focus toward employment statistics and the lack of "jobs".  Once enough people have done that, more food will become available because more people will open up jobs for ag labor at $4/hr under the table on a site where petroproducts are sprayed throughout the sunny work day and you're assured it's all Green compliant and Monsanto certified."

"Sounds like it could take decades before more food is available."

"Such is the cost of progress, my friend.  Stiff upper lip!  Oh by the way, here's a nifty picture of a rare tropical flower that I saw last week when I took that brief 3 day sortie to Costa Rica with Serge."


Despite what some spindrifty shill-at-large whose identity is tied almost exclusively and directly to the notions that (1) we must always be progressing the sport or else it will die a horrible painful bloody dismembering death, and (2) the most daring attempts at replicating a water ski's dynamics in an alpine ski are what everyone must respect and precisely what each skier must aspire to ski, day-in and day-out, to grow the sport will tell you,

nearly every skier I saw on a big funky shaped ski this year was a total fucking hack who couldn't control his or her line to any degree, couldn't make a turn, and was generally stuck in a series of "drifty" on-the-brakes sideslips that resemble a rookie snowboarder's heel-side pow-grading safety slides.

At least that's how someone who isn't afraid of the sport's hypothetical death might find things, anyway.

The scene reminds me of watching OLIEs move here and buy DH bikes to ride on XC trails with a fullface and full body armor and Leatt.  I'm not talking about shuttle monkeys at the lone DH run in our town.  I'm talking about people I see on the XC loops.

Lately the shift is away from DH bikes toward blinged-out 6" travel "enduro" wonderbikes with $3000 wheelsets etc.

Going 4 mph down a trail heavy on the brakes cloud of dust despite the 4 mph speed because the braking is seriously trying to hold back the speed and that means plowing a bit of a trench with the locked up rear wheel man that's cool drifty riding right there just like I saw in that Canadian dude's GoPro on pinkbike!


"Grow the sport."

What a joke.

Grow your personal profit stake in the business that depends tangentially on the sport, yes.

Grow the sport?


More like, regress the sport because you have to dumb it down and make it more "inviting" to people who wouldn't be inclined to do it otherwise because it's not Big Ego-ish enough to let them spew Identity Crisis Seeking Solution posts on Shitter and zuckbuck so it needs to become more Blingy and more Image-y to entice the cementheaded people who just do something because it's now the hot fad.

That's what "the sport" needs, is a new fad to entice short-timers!

Just ask Clif Taylor.

Skiing on short, wide, bizarre-flexing skis that respond best to flat smeary Chubby Checker twists* is "growing the sport."

Look at where things took us!  Now we have skis that let people Chubby Checker in powder without ever having spent an hour on skis before!

Growing the sport!

It'll be all growed-up when you can just sit in your chair and vicariously ski through a holographic projection of you, on a holographic slope with other holoskiers.  Processing power will be such that "real time" will include plenty of error-correction opportunity to make your Personal Skiing Style as optimally sexually magnetic as possible so you can pull chicks or dudes or both we don't care and actually promote healthy bi- and homo-sexual experimentation for progressing the sexuality as well.


All this "growing the sport" wastes a shit-ton of resources.  Stupid, naive "progressive" cycling enthusiasts** like to say that it's not wasteful because we get techno-advancement and trickle-down and The Glorious Market means nothing's wasted just some things turn into Used Goods rather than New Goods and that's actually good for the sport's growth too because it means we can clock the dollars turned over and the bikes turned over and sell to bigger advertisers now more mainstream bro more middle class bro more like hollywood and pro football bro well at least pro indoor lacrosse at least that bro.

So we gotta grow the sport so Harvey Has-Been can keep his foot in the door with Glory Days sponsoring and/or consulting on more Wasteful Hype-Driven Fads That Grow the Sport.



* The Spademann bindings stuck out so far on each side that you pretty much had to make Chubby turns.  Technology!  Innovation!  Growing the sport!  Parallel (braking, not turning) in one week!

** (read: the same 50 dudes who post all the time on pinkbike NSMB ridemonkey vital MTBR and which 50 includes a revolving group of say 10 "current" hotshots and the same old 40 dudes sometimes with new handles, saying the same old shit, reliving their Glory Days with internet expertise status, being dicks to anyone who doesn't know the secret handshake from racing that one BMX race in South Dakota in 1992 where all the badasses were)

noticed yet?

How the Pink Poobah has changed his writing style to resemble his own --that is, Mike "Flugennock's"-- natural voice instead of the pseudo-scholarly, rarefied words and languages approach of Sprytel J. Chimchim.

And where went G. Rowan Payne?  Back to Israel?

Or just returned as "juan", to show solidarnosc with the minorities?


I wish I could be a meliorist worshiper of invisible increment progress overseen by meritocratic wonderwizards with PhDs from Elite Parchment Factories and time spent at Well Honored Thinktanks as well as occasional Special Invited Professor of Skullfucking the Mushminds at Pleasantly Anglophilic (to hide the Zionistic) Parchment Factory.

I wish I could pretend to be "down with the proles" while owning an expensive sailboat moored at an expensive monthly rate.  Shit, if he were still alive, Al Cocky would envy that shit!  Betcha PaddyCock envies it!  Betcha Niecey HouseMD Star envies it!

But wait, dude.

It's a "satire."

Dickstuffing Liar Continues Track Record Of Distracting Irrelevance

Our Nation's Finest Constitutional Lawyer, the VERY GAY Glenn Greenwald whose Gayness you should find good reason to PROTECT HIS REPUTATION because gawdnoze White Peeps luv them Gaze --or at least the idea of Standing Up For them-- and if a Gay man writes an essay after telling you he's a Contitutional Lawyer and "expert" on "civil rights," you'd better be believing him because he's GAY!  And we know that being GAY means you know EVERYTHING! 

Simple equation here.

Gay man?


Straight man?


Bisexual man?


It really IS that simple.  Be gay, and the InterWebz loves you.  Be straight, and Hipster Douchebag Space-Age SmartPhone Citizen Timewasters will steal more time from their employer to TEACH YOU A LESSON ABOUT YOUR BIGOTRY by demanding that you confess to homophobia in a comment thread where sexuality isn't an issue.

Oh it isn't?

Didn't Greenwald spend a bunch of time proudly being gay publicly?  It does really matter to the honesty of his commentary whether his ass gets routinely reamed by a Brazilian horse-cocked half-Black man who looks like Obama.  In fact that's all that matters.

If you remember to focus on his homosexuality, you might just forget to focus on his honesty!


The past 3 essays by OCL posted at ICH are comic distraction of people's attention back in time toward Bush/Cheney.

"Here, read this and get mad at reactionaries while I select some new dildos to use with Joachim."

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

it's about the vibe, man

This may appear to be a scene from Apocalypse Now with Dennis Hopper talking about "Colonel Kurtz," but actually this was captured by an iPhone4 at a Takoma Park backyard BBQ during the Indian Summer of 2012.

The rambling display of admiration is describing Noam Chomsky to the Token Reactionary invited to the party, played in this scene by Martin Sheen as "Lieutenant Willard"

I'm impressed with how lavish is the setting of this party. Most yards in Takoma Park aren't that large, but this one is huge with a large creek running through it.

What a noble and important figure he must be, this Chomsky.

He'd never manufacture your consent.

the 5th grade bully

At Egalitarian Elementary School, A Public Learning Facility for Gifted Young Minds, the fifth grade has just broken for lunch.  Kids are heading toward the school Dining Hall (formerly, "cafeteria" but that's not hip now even if foreign) at various rates of speed, some stalling to joke with classmates, some stopping to take a piss or have a panic attack in the bathroom.

Young Henry Greenberg is detoured at the pisser when Mean Mike McGillicutty and his two Scrappy-Doo tag-alongs enter the boys' bathroom.

Mean Mike says to his two followers, "Look boys, it's Mister Hankey the Christmas Poo!" and the two followers laugh on cue.  One of the followers grabs a handful of toilet paper, crumples it into a ball, runs it under the tap to get it wet, and throws it at Henry's back on which it SPLATs.

The 3 boys laugh.

Henry begins quivering.

"Mister Hankey, why are you shaking?  Are you afraid we're gonna flush you down the toilet where you belong?"

Henry begins sobbing.

The 3 boys laugh louder.

Then turn and walk out.


Henry's imagination expands this encounter wildly, putting Henry in the middle of a crowd of children the size of the school's entire populace.  It's all of them, vs Henry.  They all have wet toilet paper wads ready to throw.  Henry thinks it's like Shirley Jackson's story The Lottery.

Henry rides the bus home in a vibrating-robot demeanor, the whole time asking himself when the bus driver is simply going to stop the bus so that everyone can beat the living shit out of Henry.  They'll probably beat him unconscious and throw him into a roadside ditch somewhere there's rabid dogs and plague-carrying rats who haven't eaten in a week.

Surprisingly, the bus ride ends without incident, Henry's overworked imagination notwithstanding.  Rather than noting it was all in his mind, Henry sprints off the bus, imagining he's just escaped a group of murderous thugs who intended to chop him into pieces and feed him to the hogs.


At dinner, Henry's mother asks how his day was.  Henry recounts the bathroom scenario with Mean Mike and his pals and describes it not as it happened, but as Henry's fevered imagination wildly exaggerated things.  As the story goes on Henry's situation grows more dire and life-threatening by the sentence.  Instead of Mean Mike and his pals laughing and leaving, Henry says they threatened him with "if you tell anyone, you're a dead man!" and brandished weapons they'd been hiding in their pockets.

Richard Greenberg, Henry's father, has heard enough.  "I will not tolerate this anti-Semitism from the school.  The school has to stop these Little Hitlers now before they become like Ahmadinjhad and try to wipe us off the map of this town."

"I bet that McGillicutty boy's father is a REPUBLICAN.  I bet he belongs to the NRA.  I bet he listens to Rush Limbaugh or Glenn Beck or Ann Coulter or Bill O'Reilly.  I bet he bashes gays and lesbians.  What a REACTIONARY."

"Now Dick, don't be too judgmental. I bet McGillicutty doesn't like Ann Coulter."

The two of them share a superior, snarky laugh.


The next day, Dick Greenberg calls Porschia Hillweg-Crampton, the school's chief executive officer (formerly: principal) to complain about the bathroom incident.

"Mizz Hillweg,..."


"Mizz Hillweg-Crampton..."


"Mizz Hillweg-hyphen-Crampton, I think you have a problem with anti-Semites in your school, and you need to do something about it." He then proceeds to describe the incident using Henry's exaggerated retelling, but amplifying the terror and danger even further.

"Mister Greenberg, I am Jewish myself. I think I would have experienced this anti-Semitism already since I'm here every day and no student likes the CEO. Have you factored your child's insecurity into the story?"

"My child is NOT INSECURE!" Greenberg's voice now is rising and his face is turning red. "How DARE you say my son is INSECURE?!"

"Mr Greenberg, I'm only observing the shorthand of what you've told me. The encounter made your boy feel unsafe, or, said differently, insecure. You need to examine what his baseline is so you can then determine how the incident affected him. If he was already a ball of nerves, perhaps he misconstrued what the McGillicutty boy was saying."

"That wadded up wet toilet paper was assault and battery and it was deadly force."

"Mr Greenberg, does Henry ever play outside?"

"What does THAT have to do with anything? You said you were JEWISH. You know what it's like. We're geeks, we're brains. We're NOT jocks. PLAY OUTSIDE? YOU WANT ME TO PUT HIS Wii OUTSIDE?"

"Mr Greenberg, I think I've heard enough. Let me investigate this further and I'll get back to you. Thank you for your concern."

Monday, April 22, 2013

nice blob of quivering jelly

Sure, life is tough.  You have a kid in private prep school, or maybe private college.  Maybe one of each.  Maybe also one in Montessori preschool as well.

You got an undergrad degree in the humanities and like a good progressive/leftist/liberal/socialist/communist/counterculturalist, decided that while it's cool to talk about a simple life when you're stoned as fuck at 3:17am with your housemates, after you graduate it's a different story and in the real world what you own and where you work and what you do, that's how people measure your worth, and you're not gonna come up short in that measurement.

So you stopped being curious about fiction and started reading biographies of famous, effective people, and you didn't --maybe couldn't-- even see the irony of that decision and practice.

So you let your friends coerce you into needing a hot new car, bigger house, more spendy vacations.  And maybe you didn't let them, maybe it was what you wanted anyway.  Hell, with such a sequence of empty value choices, you'd probably need some materialistic external validation just to feel things are relatively balanced.


You forced yourself to become more politically aware when, during the HELL OF YOUR LIFE (known elsewhere as 2000 - 2008 A.D. and known in non-partisan circles as the Bush/Cheney era), you began ramping up your earliest childhood nightmares that still haunt you, and began applying them toward the idea of NEOCONS ARE IN CHARGE NOW.

You knew the NEOCONS were evil Rethuglican, which meant they were horrific reactionaries, hateful misogynists, spiteful homophobes and cruel bigots.

But you never thought they'd go THIS FAR.  You never thought they could actually use THREATS OF DEATH** against the Noble Democrats and thereby with horrific Reactionary Witchery make it appear as though the Democrats actually were on board with the NEOCON NIGHTMARE OF BUSH/CHENEY.

And when you saw evidence of that nasty, under-the-table, above-the-clouds, ethereal pressure-placed-on-Noble-Saintly-Democrats, you knew it was time to WAKE UP.


From here you commenced a sternly serious study of the Political Landscape.  Apart from what you determined already (as stated above) you also learned that the Noble Democrats had 3 vital sectors:

+ the Progressives

~ the Centrists

- the DINOs

and you learned that most of what happened (was happening; is happening; will happen) can be blamed on that Rethuglican Witchery you already noted, but seeing its subtleties in assorted DINO moves.***  The subtlety was in the fact that a radical progressive like Kucinich could be seen acting sometimes like a DINO if the situation was right, the cameras were off, or a hot woman was nearby.


1) All bad things are due to the Evil Rethuglicans.

2) Bush/Cheney is an era of rampant Rethuglican power abuse.

3) The Noble Democrats stood no chance at slowing, stopping or reversing Bush/Cheney.

4) Because of the amazing mind-control Rethuglican Witchery.

5) And because we never let the perfect be the enemy of the good.


In 2006, the Democrats took control over the Congress.

They kept pursuing that dastardly NEOCON AGENDA, however.  In fact there wasn't a single legislative roadblock, diversion or reversal laid down or created by the Democrats after they assumed control.

You kept blaming the Rethuglicans and reminded yourself, "DAMN, they sure do have some powerful voodoo over at Team Elephant's camp."


At the 2006 convention a light-brown Black dude with an exotic name and a merit-stuffed resume spoke at the Donkey Convention.  Some people noticed the personal presence of this Glorious Symbol of Post-Racism, who had a regal bearing and the slick Whitespeak of every Top Tier Parchment Factory's Middle Manager.

But most were pinning their hopes for 2008 on the same old same old, Swillary Rodham Pigface Loosebag Clinton, or John Baptized by Zion Kerry-Heinz.

Since you don't like backing a loser, you began struggling over this choice.


By July 2008, that cafe au lait slickster was starting to make Swillary and Heinz 57 sweat a little, so you began taking him seriously, especially after Chris Hedges and Glenn Greenwald got in behind him and began pumping like a yokel on a seesaw RR service cart.  Of course Kos and fdl and HP were backing Ketchup Boy and Dogfaced Healthcare Queen, but you were in the vanguard, bro.  You were gonna be personally responsible for post-racist America with the First Black President.



You wept profusely as Obama came to the dais to accept the declaration from Pete Pundit and Heather Headbobber saying he'd won.

You jizzed your shorts/puddled your panties when he was Inaugurated.

And you took hope:  We are POST RACISM.  We have our FIRST BLACK PRESIDENT.  It's a NEW DAY.


6 months into the new Admin the cabinet looked like Bush/Cheney 3d Term.

1 year into the new Admin the track record showed more continuation of Bush/Cheney, including some policy expansion.

You kept saying, "he's got a secret plan, he'll unleash it soon, he's building momentum."


2 years into the new Admin and it is clearly Bush/Cheney 3d Term, but with a cocky motherfuckin' light brown dude smugly beaming that Pepsodent Grin as he laughs about killing boys who try to date his young daughters.

He starts bailing out all his pals in big finance.  He expands the bailout programs to include many companies who willingly put themselves into financial shit-houses.

And you continue thinking, FIRST BLACK PRESIDENT.  POST-RACISM.

And ignore the policies and actions, because they remind you too much of Bush/Cheney.

So you conclude the Rethuglican Witchery is now so powerful as to override GOP minority status in the Congress and full DNC leadership of the rest of the fed govt.

Against all evidence, you do this because your faith is strong.


3 years into the new Admin and the GOP candidates are on the trail for 2012's election.  You notice the GOP is full-on whacko, so you double-down on The Mighty Barry O, terrified of Palin and McCain and Romney and Ryan and Paul and every other HORRIBLE REACTIONARY RETHUGLICAN BIRCHER PREPPER CHRISTER CRACKER MISOGYNIST BIGOT HOMOPHOBE who isn't Obama.

You know where you're going in 2012.  Whatchugonnadu?


Fast forward to present.

Boy isn't that Boston Marathon bombing a piece of something?

And Iran wants to wipe Israel off the map.

So many terror threats from outside and from within.

Better show solidarity with Obama and the Fed Govt.  We're under attack.  We're at war.


Better start seeing them everywhere.

Better start blaming them for everything.

Because you know Israel is blameless, Obama is blameless, the Donkeys are blameless, Judaism is different from other religions -- which are magical thinking backward dirt-eater bullshit unlike Judaism which is noble principled and intellectually vibrant.

Because of the Holocaust.

Because someone is scared.

Because, paranoia.

Or just because.


Yes, Obama really is the best possible POTUS for this best possible time in America's best possible status.

Otherwise it's gonna be dirt-eating murderous rapists skull-fucking your best friend's daughter.

So you'd better be proud and awe-struck by the lockdown of Boston.

And you'd better get behind Israel, bubke.

Because the Wandering Tribes are poised to nuke everyone who isn't either an avowed Jew, or a willing slave to the greedy fucking materialistic finance-capitalism Ouroboros.

Buy in now, and avoid being tortured by Moe Saddy or one of Erik Prince's gay sadist butchers.


** DEATH = fall from the grace of popular positive public opinion.

*** See, e.g., Pat Leahy, Harry Reid, Nancy Pelosi, Dennis Kucinich, and many other Stars of the Donkey Cavalcade for further example.

yuppie transplant lecturing yuppie transplant-to-be

...about not being That Guy, and about how Portland is the hippest town in America because it has so many cool badass indie restaurants and shops so please don't tell us your old home city had better food or shopping because ours is indie and that's hip and that's superior to everything else and please don't mind the fact that I'm doing what I'm telling you to not do because you're exempt from irony or hypocrisy if you live in Portland.


In Oregon there is no sales tax but they there is state income tax. In Washington we have sales tax but no state income tax. If you live in Vancouver and work in Portland, you will get whacked with both, so don't commute over the river if you can help it.

Portland is nice, but it is really small, especially compared to DC. This can be a good or bad thing, depending on what you like. One thing Portland has a lot of is independently owned restaurants and shops, not a ton of chains, and that is probably one of the greatest things about it.

One other thing: don't be that obnoxious east coast transplant that all PNW natives can't stand. No one cares what is better back east, be it food, transit, or whatever. Things out here are different, and we like it that way. No place exemplifies that spirit more than Portland.

Wouldn't it have been easier to say,

Portland is like Baltimore but where Baltimore is all Hon and Beau't'n'a'waughter and NattyBoh, Portland is all Sister and I'lltakeaventiAmericanoThanksLakshmi and TooManyBrewpubs&MicrobrewsToList.

Well. Wouldn't it?

See, don't come to Portland and act like you're superior for coming here from DC.

Instead, come to Portland, and act like you're superior for living in Portland because it's so much more Portland-y than DC.

didn't mean to do that

In deposition but more importantly in cross-examination, the asker should be careful to not ask one question too many.  The point is to get information that can be used as bricks, beams, blocks for the foundation of the story that your case tells.  When you ask the one question too many in deposition, you turn the witness (and/or his/her counsel) against you.  But worse is when you ask the one question too many of a witness on x-, and instead of the x- terminating on a high note that reinforces your case's story, that last-asked pregunta solicits a response which in small or large ways undercuts your case's story.

You shouldn't have asked that last one.  You should've left well enough alone.  Now everyone can see this is about manipulation and self-interest, where before you'd obscured that nicely with the even keel of apparent objectivity and detached inquisitive interest.

My husband had a good observation: if it wasn’t for all these snapshot photos of the suspects taken by your average citizens’ cellphones, the cops would’ve been shit out of luck! Yes, Gary Shteyngart’s Super Sad True Love Story has come to life!

Gary, you sound very desperate here.

Or, wait.


That's not Gary. That's Ted. Ted FitzHume.


Hold on.

My mistake. It's Professor Poutine.

funny shit

A shrill, always-feeling-put-upon (hence likely Jewish) middle-aged American gay man who is "partnered" with a middle aged Australian gay man thinks it's funny to post comments at Chris Floyd's blog under the handle "Grandma Sheila."

"She" can also be found at various other internet comment forums under different handles, but always spewing some crap about how the Birchers and Tea Party people cause everything bad, and some incidental references to Australia are tossed in for good measure.

What's funny is Chris Floyd deleting comments that observe the bogus partisan shrillness of "Grandma Sheila," and allowing "Grandma Sheila" to continue posting paragraphs of Progressing America One Bircher-Blaming Paragraph At A Time.

That's funny.

Nearly as funny is the "Duwayne Josephsson" stuff that reads like it was written by the same person who created G. Rowan Payne and Sprytel J. Chimchim, but which obsesses constantly over how Detroit is Ground Zero and how the UK actually runs everything in America.

I love these psy-op hangouts where Moe Saddy and Home Schechy Green play their games, and the dull "progressives" echo echo echo echo ditto ditto ditto ditto copy copy copy copy parrot parrot parrot parrot mime mime mime mime imitate imitate imitate imitate don't think don't think don't think don't think.

hoo ray it's tutu time

Which Intellectual Hipster, Fashion-enslaved cocksucker blogger do you read?

Do you read Glenn Greenwald, famous bicontinental bottom and master of fellatio? It's true that Greenwald loves to be tied up with Hermes neckties before having his sphincter shredded by a horse-cocked Brazilian. That's what makes him so wise.

Do you choose Lambert Strether, famous P Street Beach cruiser who has had over 3,000 "partners" since coming "out" at age 25? Don't believe too much of what he says, he'll just break your cock ...uh I mean heart... when the winds of fad-ism push his libido in some other guy's direction, for some other rarefied form of The Feelings of Fame.

How about Louis Proyect, unemployed master of self-buggery-with-own-thumb? He truly knows the right lingo and dogma to spew to get one of those naive 18 year old freshmen from Christopher Street into his Marxist Bed.

Maybe you prefer Matt Yglesias, who satiates your fat guy fetish with a swarthy Sephardic Jew Bear persona? Have you found it tough to reconcile being a swishy materialistic consumerist and a hipster who knows all the right "economics" and "social policy" buzzwords and party favors? Follow Matt, and meet all your needs!

Maybe you like the Fratboy? If so, Matt Taibbi's your guy. Matt seems straight as a fresh lead pencil and knows how to fit into any golf outing like a real Man's Man with a Titleist baseball cap and an Izod polo shirt always on hand. Since his dad was in news media, he learned early on how to suck other dudes' cocks in fancy restaurant mens rooms in order to get plum jobs at hip magazines. So you can trust his wise words.

Sunday, April 21, 2013

words are his dildo

This crap is pointless, but apparently the Finger Snaps & Arm Waves Clique finds it impressive.

Who is Fake Henry James conning with this continued worrying about "the elite" who apparently have great disdain for opera glasses, tiffany crystal and very aromatic brandies and therefore are objectionable on culture-taste grounds but not in prep-school/fancy parchment factory breeding nor economic stratum (for they are peers of Fake Henry James, who pretends he's the still-living Algoreuncle with the same rarefied tastes and haughty disdain for those tacky fellow prepsters who prefer vaginas over cocks)?

This bullshit Naomi Kleinism, where high-finance capitalistic consumerism is cool and big government is optimal as long as we don't have tacky logos and as long as we put our investments into Green Economy Measures and as long as nobody can call us Disaster Capitalists because we're just trying to have No Disaster Capitalism, it is nonsense.

It gets trotted out and adhered to because Fancypants PowerNoggins think only in binary. Either we have a fat paternalist-yet-feminist Central Authority which bloats ever greater each quarter and which is heavily involved in managing an Enlightened Green Economy and which Promotes Democracy Everywhere, Especially Around Israel,


We will all die of typhoid and the bubonic plague because that's the only alternative is to go back to eating dirt and living in squalor.

That's the only alternative.

So we should endorse what's happening now, but chastise the gauche nature of the power displays, for such verbal wet noodle lashings are enjoyable to the hateful breeders from Fake Henry James's clique who are captains of business and government.

poor MacGuffin is defenseless! let us help MacGuffin!

Our Noble DefSec, whose spinelessness and cheapness was debated hotly during his confirmation ordeal -- a terrifying, life-threatening experience, we're told, and one which resembles what Salem must have been like for a woman accused of being a witch -- has confirmed that he stands behind the Star of David and will pursue Justice on Its Behalf wherever and whenever it's required, starting right now with an agreement to sell war materiel to the Star of David.

Doubtless the defenseless MacGuffin needs long-range refueling capacity because it's necessary to stay up in the air for hours on end when OHMYGODTHEREAREANTISEMITESEVERYWHEREWHOINTENDTOWIPEUSOFFTHEMAP controls your view of the world and you imagine enemies as far away as straight through the core of the sphere to the opposite side. You'll have to fly halfway around the planet, dump those nukes, and fly back here without touching down in Fallout World. And Fallout World will be huge because you don't do anything halfway, no sirree.

Chuck E's in love.

new, under the sun

That's how they do in the blue collar world what Chomsky, Greenwald, Hedges etc do in the PowerNoggin world.

Saturday, April 20, 2013

hey who turned off the music?

We interrupt your inattentive monitor-gazing to advise you of a possible system glitch.

It would appear that many Americans actually think furren terrisss did that Boston job, and were willing to cheer, internally if not vocally, for the swift retaliatory murder of one of them two furren terrisss bastids.

It would seem that the thuggery of the Modern Homeland Security Police is acceptable as necessary given the horrific existential tensions that arise from contemplating the possibility of one of them furren terrisss bastids putting one of them furren terrisss bombs made out of things that god dammit the FBI shoulda pulled off the shelves of WalMart years ago because it can be dangerous, at some location near your work school favorite restaurant or hipster espresso bar with WiFi.  Besides, WTF?  Pressure cookers for sale? STOP THAT RIGHT NOW. Someone may turn one into a bomb.**

It is apparently quite difficult for someone who weeps at the plight of cute African children written about by Chris Hedges in his latest "I'm for the little guy" essay, this concept of transferring the same empathies for one kind of furren bastid onto a different kind of furren bastid.

Apparently there's some Hate the Russians cultural hangover, because them furren terrisss bastids wuz Chet Ching or sumpin else that's Russky.  Which means communiss.  Which spells terrisss.  Furren terrisss bastids.  And the worstest kind, the commie kind.

Don't be bothered, please, by the father's pleas.

The remaining, not-yet-rightfully-exterminated-with-prejudice furren terrisss bastid is urged by Papa to turn himself in to the folks who just killed his broheem.  Papa is trusting of the HomSec Moe Saddy Contractor Bonanza weapon-wielders.  As, apparently, he should be.

Because of Obamacare, and because the evil Rethuglicans are threatening a filibuster on a piece of Landmark Democrat-Authored Social Progress Legislation.

In Sam We Trust.

And in progress eternal, we place our living energies.


Aaaaaahh.  So resonant!


** Someone also might turn a 1- or 5-lb can of Haxwell Mouse or Stanka coffee into a bomb too so dammit let's ban the sale of coffee, it's Turkish in origin anyway and them Turks is furren too.

Friday, April 19, 2013

I got yer First Look right here.

Here's a First Look you can use to start every muddafuggin day you wake up to once again be alive and having new chances to show your greatness to the world:

Assume, on this new day, that you have nothing.

Fred Boynton has no respect

...for this guy and his nation's history of Franco and all that nonsense post-Franco that sometimes gets Sammy's nose out of joint:

It's nice to see the feminists and metrosexual hipsters haven't removed all the rocks roots and ruts from Leogang's track to make it easier to comprehend by mere mortals whose egos would be crushed when trying to ride it.

Older cultures know about these juvenilia impulses toward pointless egalitarian ideal pursuit. The only thing egalitarian needed is the equal chance for everyone to do their own best relative to the given situation. No need to water-down, flatten, de-challenge every landscape so that it's an easy A for the least adept. Why? The one solitary thing Ayn Rand had right! -- if you make people's talents stifle because you reduce challenge in order to "level the playing field," those who get stifled no longer want to be part of your society.

You got caught up in the "libertarian" nonsense, especially the 1-dimensional characters and absurd this/that reductions of everything, and you missed it, because you hate "reactionaries" and to you there's an inescapable link between "Rand" and "reactionary," between "Atlas Shrugged" and "nutjob Tea Party".

And you wonder why I laugh at you?

You've been providing me with comic fodder for decades, chump.

Thursday, April 18, 2013

it's just like a UCI/USAC road race podium

Nice podium shot, Barry.  Good to see you went top shelf.

And most of all, I'd like to thank YOU -- my sponsors!

adoption is a good way to earn extra income

...provided you can successfully house the adopted child, and ignore him/her sufficiently enough to gull Youth & Family Services into believing it's a Loving Home.

One of the great things you can do with an adopted child is use him or her as a trigger for unleashing your pent-up anger and frustration.

For example, you can dress up a young boy in girl's clothes, and then when others comment on your feminizing of the boy, you can claim the moral high ground and dismiss them as backward reactionary misogynists who don't understand, and fear, the power inherent in womanhood.

Children, you see, are brought into the world to help fix their parents' self-image problems. If Mommy thinks The Patriarchy Must Be Blamed, and finds it easier to accuse The Patriarchy for every slight Mommy felt in her lifetime than to examine whether Mommy's own mind (and any theoretically existing problems within that mind's workings) could be responsible for the self-image problems... well, that's just how things work in a Progressive Society.  We don't fix things directly.  We use indirection.

So, by using your male child as a Status Display Item and growing his hair long and dressing him in "cute sundresses" and the like, you tell yourself that My Son Will Not Be A Misogynist Patriarchy Pawn, and you tell yourself that the gambit of forced feminizing is the surest route to fixing what you perceive to be an oppressive misogyny running rampant across The Patriarchy Known as America, or at Least that Portion which is Reactionary.


Let us assume there is a Love Triangle brewing in the early-mid 1940s. This Love Triangle arises from the overwhelming awareness of Massive Profiteering Available during global war.

The star crossed lovers are a young American woman, a distinguished gentleman member of the English Peerage, and a rakish svengali who hails from France.

The affair begins between the American and the Brit, her attraction to his Englishness and that highbrow accent overwhelms her and blinds her to the age difference, which should pose long-term relationship durability problems.

On a weekend abroad alone, the American gets drunk when in a soft, introspective moment she realizes Her Lordship is a fossil. So she finds herself a Froggy fornication friend.


In 1947 the world is nursing a massive hangover from the end of WW2. And Miss America is pregnant.

Who is the father? What gender is the little muffin in her oven?

By financial support analyses, paternity looks to be British in origin, but by romantic storyline compulsions the idealists put their money on the Frenchman.


The baby is born and on first look-over appears to be hermaphroditic. Mama America names the little nipper Isabelle Real, or Queen Isabella, named after the Spanish monarch who suggested voyages toward what eventually was "discovered as" North America.


As Izzy grows up, his/her sexual indeterminism confuses many. Naturally, other kids tease Izzy.

"Don't know who your daddy is!  Did you even have a daddy or were you a test tube gene splice stem cell experiment?"

Mama A has things under control, however, 'cuz she's a fierce Grizzly Bear mama who protects her cubs with whatever response is deemed necessary.**

Like this.


** "Necessary" here meaning, "as anthropomorphized Disney-Nightmare-style, not as actually happening in nature."

base age spackler pad

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

ye gotcher reel flags enn yer false ones

It's not a Tea Party.  It's a "T" party.  Harvard-MIT braintrust creation.


You can't expect decent writing from MTB "journalists."

Ben Reid taking in the view on the way down. Photo by Ben Skinner-Watts.

"Taking in the view" while on a race run?


"But if Joe Websurfer hits this page, he will think to himself, 'gosh, look at the amazing view,' and so we have to make Joe feel like he knows the sport so that the sport can grow, so we tell Joe that Ben was up there to 'take in the view' because Joe wouldn't understand someone not taking in the view. Capische?"


No entiendo.

question posed:

Is this a sign of an arrow hitting a single target, and there are many different ways to hit that target?

Or is it a sign that there are as many targets as there are archers?

I notice the main essay linked, and the comments which follow, begin from the presumption of it is bad.

They dance around entertainment of the idea of it being possible.  After all, the hermit at issue was doing it.

But as it must (according to our observers linked), it turned out bad.

He was a criminal.

And we must obey the laws.

Even when those we sheepishly avoid, through blind emulation/respect shown periodically at polling places and more frequently in our daily pieties uttered in defense of Well It's What We've Got So I'm Gonna Make the Best of It -- they break most of the laws they "enforce" where we are concerned, and ...fuck... well, you know ...oops... they write those laws too.  For, you know, the benefit of not you.

I'd try it but it sounds scary.

I'd try it but then I'd have no mirrors, no shiny surfaces, no quicksilvered glass, and no humans to validate my choices.

No humans to validate my choices.

That's intolerable.

I must be reflected positively in others.

Or I am dead.

I can show a degree of hipster coolness meantime, by talking about this thing that seems "out there" as if I might one day try it and thereby find my status elevated through the envy my fellow hipsters would harbor and show like the dianabol'd yacht of a coca leaf kingpin in a Miami port.

and you thought they all wuz eedjits

I'm sorry to say that this morning brought a blip on my Large Dish Array aimed generically out into the Multiverse.  Ellie Arroway was right. There is life out there.

A characteristic of late-stage capitalism is a need for perpetual crisis in order to maintain the illusion of growth and to distract from the real crisis, which is about the emergence of post-human systems that subordinate consciousness.

I bet you never saw it.

And it came from a not-bad song off a lame album.

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

aint got no kwoo

America's current greatest threat is fat, loudmouth, ignorant, hateful white old men clinging to a long gone past.

Or maybe it's soft-pedal-insulting, ego-diddling, over-self-impressed, spiteful metrosexuals of all races creeds and tribal urge, demanding that the whole body of humanity agree with their progressive agenda and construe their naive optimism as "reality" because all the dangerous and destructive stuff should just be ignored in favor of the powerful fantasy known as perpetual progress.

Look at me, I identify with the future, which makes me superior to you, because the past is horrible, except when I can recite something from the past that proves I'm superior to you, then it's useful.

Gosh, it's amazing what bitter spite comes from those Tribalists.

I hear the diaspora is to blame.

Everyone hates me!

Yes, I'm sure that bitter projection vomit you spew at everyone you consider "reactionary" has nothing to do with that hatred you perceive.

I'm positive.

Just attach yourself to "progress" and then take personally any criticism someone may utter regarding the delusion of eternal progress in any dimension.  This will give many opportunities to claim the supposed moral/ethical high ground (I'm for progress, and you're not) in any subject under discussion.

Remember, commerce is king, and progress is the concept which fuels commerce, so pay your tribute!

Baruch HaShem.

ernst and his boys, mud wrestling for hours on end

I may sell myself as a Constitutional Lawyer and expert on American sociopolitical analysis and problem solution, but you can't verify those claims for accuracy.

That's how I have spent nearly 10 years writing for pay, pretending to specialize in Civil Rights matters allegedly arising out of my disturbing realization that Evil Rethuglicans were trying to Crush Our Freedoms with the Patriot Act.

I was curious, back then, about why the Democrats seemed so silent, but as a genius of human interpersonal assessment and analysis, I concluded that the Democrats were noble statespeople of varying gender and sexualpreference, whose noble and pure hearts were easily corrupted by cruel Elephantine psy-ops witchery and ideological bullying.

When I have complained about Civil Rights being abridged by some rare transgression implemented by a dastardly Evil Rethuglican, or by its compadre the DINO, it hasn't really been a question of whether I can understand what is driving such civil rights infringement, why it is happening, who is profiting, and where it is leading.

Those questions are not fitting for a man of my exalted academic and intellectual stature.  They are provocative, reactionary, and cruel.  They are debasing questions, which would show the asker of such questions to be a rough, louche retrograde thug who hasn't any appreciation for subtlety of any kind.

I count daily on your inability to see that if I am accorded such genius and such insight as you assume I possess, I would not be easily gulled by the witchery of the Evil Rethuglicans, and I would be even-handed in criticizing the Democrats and the Republicans alike.

This, however, would require me to back-pedal from an eight-year history of publicly pursuing the policy of Fewer Reactionary Rethugs, More Better Donkeys.

Which I cannot do.

Because it would show me to have been a liar all along when arguing that I'm a Constitutional Lawyer and an expert on American socio-political wrangling and the supreme commandant of Our Current Clusterfuck.

Because I only pretend to be a dissident so that I can make enough money to live in Brazil and the USA both, jet setting back and forth at will, with attention toward the seasons and maximizing what rare foodstuffs can be brought from one hemisphere to the other to enjoy in gustatory orgasms with my lover.

And because you're an easily manipiulated puppet of SWPL outlook and robotically consistent reaction to environmental stimuli, I know that if my public image plays on your White Guilt about how Them Gaze been treated, you'll want me to enjoy every luxury, gustatory and sexual alike, commercial and carnal alike, that I have earned by constantly pointing a finger in a direction other than where the culprit sits, or where the culprit's headed.

pray, Goonta! pray!

Why does the pinkbike crew let their Major Domo RC use the handle "deeeight" (complete with Canadian flag icon) in the discussion threads held at that website?

Who is fooled by this?

Everyone, apparently.

D8 constantly swoops down onto threads to make sure the Marketing Angle is Protected. Advertisers are sure to appreciate the diffusion of nascent antipathy or embryonic mockery.

And there's all that "expertise" D8 offers, googled, cut, and pasted and then reposted as if it came directly from the Immensely Powerful Datey Brain.

With all the blunt shutting-down of any contrary views which may influence advertisers in a negative direction, he's a regular Value Added Contributor whose ghost-writing should be envied and, hopefully for ad revenue's sake, emulated throughout the PB universe.

This is the command of the Dollar.

I'd like you to meet Hugh.

Full name, Hugh Zaliyah.


Success in ego-fapping seems to depend on a few things:

- progressive image

- female or gay male personhood construct, to advance "feminism"

- pretense at insider knowledge gained through extensive merit-stuffed experience at Strivertech or Grasper, Reacher and Gripped, LLP, but no evidence of actual experience in those worlds.


You should spend several years blogging a "criticism" of capitalism that desires a pure consumerist materialist society free of the ugly sides we've known from capitalism. 

You'd like us to skip out on logos because they're tacky.  You'd like us to stop building gasoline-run vehicles because they're eco-mean, but you haven't a bother about the green footprint of tooling up to make millions of flex-fuel vehicles whose ecosystem burden actually exceeds that which in-use vehicles impose. 

You'd like us to get rid of "corporate" this-and-that, because you're sure "corporate" is the cause of most of the less-than-ideal results of Our Modern Capitalism.

You'll confirm, of course, that the Noble Pure Ideal form of Our Modern Capitalism is within reach, but presently blocked from grasp by the machinations of dastardly Evil Rethuglicans, who are red-necked to a person, misogynist every one, reactionary without exception, and often times are very very unsophisticated and quite uncouth.

In your America, we'll all have iPhone__ (insert latest iteration-buffing code number/word/symbol) and a flex-fuel vehicle and rather than dirty coal our power will come from clean, green nukes or beautifying-on-the-landscape Massive Propellers of Free Wind Power. 

We'll all have Obamacare coverage, our per-person cost will be imposed based on how much derision The Noble Donkeys feel toward stupid reactionaries who aren't on board with a giveaway to Big Insurance and Big Healthcare.  And we'll feel proud about this, while ignoring that huge fucking windfall BigI and BigH just got.  They earned it for being on top in the 21st Century's Green Economy!

Health care is Green.  Thus, bloat permissible there, rape and pillage tolerated there, destruction of individual and family fiscal livelihood just about desired there, to cull the weak and reactionary and lazy from our midst.

All that is good.

What's bad is the occasional greedy DINO who tarnishes the otherwise sterling Progressive image of the Mighty Donkey.  And that tarnishing is bad because deep down, we all know that Capitalism is the solution -- it's just the current version, mostly Reactionary in practice, which causes us to want to reject it.

When Eve is in charge of Commerce, Treasury or the Fed, a noble and pure and Progressive form of capitalism will obtain and shall advance American society forward, forever.

Monday, April 15, 2013

don't hold your breath

You have (deliberately at this stage, I suspect) left the term "progress" very loosely defined; I suppose this is in keeping with your noting that terms like "Americanism" are also vague and squishy. My initial reaction when I have heard it is to think of progress in science and technology. But reading through this week's post, it suddenly dawns on me that it can also encompass our belief in progress in another area. I'll just throw out a collection of tag lines and buzz words here: civil rights, equality, compassion, inclusiveness, and that maybe-not-so-off-topic-topic from last week's comment thread, feminism. There's a belief (perhaps one might say a faith) in a steady expansion of the concept of personhood, bigger self, less other. I'm feeling that the vision of a future in which race, gender, sexuality, religious differences, etc. etc. are all fully respected and live together in beautiful harmony sits right up there on the throne of progress with the future of starships, disease cured with a little buzz from a handheld device, and energy that flows endlessly from some absolutely clean and silent blue cube in the closet.

This would also tie in with why so many apocalyptic fantasies involve slavery, feudalistic hierarchies, and seething underclasses of imperfect people.

Yes, please define "progress" so that anyone who might criticize the concept looks the fool.

The point, fake character calling self Bill Pulliam with a Robinson Crusoe avatar picture, is whether belief in future events' inevitability has any grounding in present situations -- or, instead, is it just a fantasy and hoped-for Humanity Endpoint that you assume will be reached, despite human character flaws and strong, primally immutable destructive urges.

Maybe that's where Modern Chemistry and Molecular Biology will come in. Those who show what Lord Progress deems destructive will be subject to gene splice therapy for breeding purposes, and relevant lobe carving for current life purposes.

Or maybe just some Miracle Rx will change his/her personality suitably for Lord Progress.


That phony druid playpen sure does have about as many pretentions and self-delusions as the Pink Chipmunks Treehouse, although the Chipmunks would have to be stuffed with envy over the Apparent Participant numbers.

For Alvin Simon Theodore's sake, however, I can say that there is so little divergence among the various wordwankers at the druidic playpen as to render the number of Apparent Participants nearly irrelevant.

If there's an echo, does it matter how many times it rebounds?


The main entry is the usual 5,000 words to say what I can do in 5, and continues that tradition of trading in fog rather than frankness, distraction instead of description, and muddying where it should be clarifying.

And he says it isn't even finished with this recent installment, because the question is so complex and shape-shift-y.


4th Grade, Boeingville Elementary
Mrs Hallowbachs

"John. John Greer. Can you give us the answer to number 6, please?"

"MICHAEL. John MICHAEL Greer. That's my FULL NAME."

"John, can you please give us the answer to number 6?"

"I would like to first examine what exactly is the question you are calling number 6."

"It's right there in front of you, John."

"Yes, but apparently if we travel back to Abyssinia, the number we know today as 6 was called something else. How would an Abyssinian approach this problem if he were here today in our Fourth Grade Class?"

"John, we're talking about the problem that is on everyone's homework from last night, it is problem number 6 in this week's exercises from Chapter 4."

she walks around the classroom

"It would appear everyone has their book open to the right page, John. Including you. Please tell us the answer to number 6, John."


"The answer to number 6, please."

"When I first read problem number 6 I started to think about peanut butter, which led to me singing a song about Goober Peas, which led to me watching Mayberry RFD, which led to me asking my mother what is a mayberry and what do they taste like."

"John, I'd like the answer to number 6. Can you start by reading the problem, perhaps?"

"John MICHAEL. (sighs loudly) Oh alright. David has 6 apples from his morning of apple picking at Farmer Bill's. When he gets home for lunch, he gives one to his mother and one to his sister Alice. How many apples does David have left to give his father?"

"Yes, John. Thank you. So how many apples does David have?"

"John MICHAEL. (another loud sigh) Actually, that depends on whether David ate any apples at lunchtime. We know he gave one to his mother, and one to his sister. That leaves 4 by my count. But what about that Abysinnian kid I mentioned? What if he gets one from David? That would leave 3. However, the Abysinnian kid may find he doesn't like apples because of how they smell and how slick their skin is, so that may end up adding one apple back to make 4."

"John, the question is about the 6 apples he picked, and the fact that he gave two of them away. It's much simpler than you are making it. Six minus two equals four."

"I don't trust that simple explanation.  And it's John MICHAEL."


Mr Greer, meet the real Arch-Druid


But back to John MICHAEL, replying to Robinson Crusoe's comment that I block-quoted above:

Bill, excellent! You get today's gold star. Yes, in fact, I'll be getting to that, probably in two weeks. As I see it, there are at least three things jumbled up together in the mythology of progress -- moral progress (the movement toward a better society), scientific and technological progress (the conquest of nature), and economic progress (the dream of abundance for all). Most of the critiques of progress, so called, that we've seen so far have been challenging one of these in the name of one of the others. More on this shortly!


"Since the point of this blog is to appear to offer dissection of social problems, but in practice the posts and comments play out as distractions from those problems in favor of a bizarre steampunk vision of The Future, Mostly Progressive but Suitably Steam-Driven Rather than Dirty Coal or Nuke or Hydro or Solar, Where Possible, I don't know how long it's going to take for me to thoroughly consider all ramifications of considering the ramifications. And then after that's done, I have to ponder the eventualities that may arise if various variables come into play, which will provide an amplification of eventualities for my pondering. Meanwhile trust in the Gold Star I've Affixed to Your Comment, as proof of your wise observation that progress truly is a valid religion basis, as long as we don't give it religious power, and as long as we hold a tight grip on the steampunk vision of The Future, Arch-Druid Style. Stay tuned for more elaboration on this brief comment, which notion I shall approach, and after duly prudent consideration embrace, anon."

fission reactor

Don't use smoked glass, stare directly at it.

Where you're going, you won't need retinas that aren't bleached to death.


Last night some local power transfer component went fuckety-fuck at around 9:30 and stayed out through 11 when I quit reading and sacked it.

I woke up feeling like someone had worked a 3/4" wide, 1/32" thick shiv of steel into my right knee between the femur and the medial meniscus while I was asleep.

It may have to do with watching some Netflix. Out of boredom I checked out "Jericho" and before cutting it off midway through the 2d episode, I saw heroic Skeet Ulrich walk forever with an open tibial fracture, all the way to a school bus full of kids whose bus driver had run off the road and crashed mildly but dangerously enough to kill the driver and cause some little girl to get a bruised throat right around her voice box. Skeet heroically saw to the little girl's neck, put an icepack on the bruise, and then suddenly the little victim of senseless violence began gasping. Naturally Skeet did what every heroic, open-fractured-tibia Man of Action would do -- perform an emergency tracheotomy with a dirty blade and using a juice box straw. Miracle of modern stick-to-it-ive-ness and pure working man's no-talking-just-do-it resourcefulness! He then got the bus un-stuck and drove it home, ignoring the blasted open shin, loss of blood, musculoskeletal trauma, and pain.

Git er dun Son!

The mushroom clouds hit in episode 2. The writers' imagined depiction of relative civil calm where it wouldn't be so, and at-each-others-throats when they wouldn't be, well it almost made me laugh.

Just look at the sun.

So green.

More nukes.

Less kooks.


I, for one, cannot wait for The Noble Yet Wrongly Persecuted Middle Eastern MacGuffin to use its first nuke strike against someone it construes as threatening its national security.

mendelian peas

Jeez, it's like Oneida!


don't reform, don't meliorate, don't progress what's static or regressing

Step outside, set up a parallel that resembles something closer to what you think belongs.

Well done NABRA creators, finding the eyes to see! 

Will it find perfection at the start? 

Who cares?!

It is formed by those who didn't like the way things were being done, which means it's a move to address something that wasn't working, and the move is more than tinkering 'round the edges of something because one can't see the possible alternative being viable. 

"It's un-known, and therefore scary!" 

Pretty sure you have handled unknowns and fear before, with some measure of actual success.  Whomever you are.  Wherever.  And however.

Even if not perfectly handled.  Even if not without moments of fear.


It can be done outside MTB racing too.

the paperless office, again

Yes, I once counseled a company on the question of going paperless, from a legal exposure perspective.  And I talked extensively about the ease of hacking, theft, manipulation of electronic "documents", an ease that mocks the skill required to forge and pass an organic document.  And the insecurity of an electronic database, hackable, portable and erasable?

Well, there's all that technology that looks so cool, bro!

I had already counseled companies previously on the idea of web-transaction commerce and what types of identity verification would be acceptable for post-transactional proof of the deal's validity and the reliability of the deal's subject matter.

Already learned how many ways one can play around with e-commerce, how easy to defraud in the etherworld compared to the organicworld.

Of course my concerns were denounced as luddism.  "The coming technology will render e-commerce and electronic archives more reliable than interpersonal commerce and organic document archives."

Yes.  I'm sure.

Because it was depicted that way in a sci-fi novel, right?

Or... no... wait, that's not it.

It's because you imagined it's possible, and you have faith in human ingenuity, scientific advancement and technological progress.

Because, look at everything crammed into your iPhone/Droid/Blackberry.


Of course the intersection of data and document manipulation and the commercial vulnerabilities that ride along with such manipulation would inevitably come to to profiteering high-pressure head.

Thus, zuckbuck and mobrosam start fucking.

Thus, mobrosam gets jizz-gargled by google.

And thus,

this happens.

So does this.


Please don't read me and please don't take anything I've ever said seriously.  I'm just a satire engine with a fuel conversion to enable running on ribald insult comedy.

our culture is destructive, but there's nothing wrong with that!


I think there's something to what you say here, but I don't know that it's poor training per say. It's a little like saying that HS baseball coaches aren't doing their job because such a low percentage of their players make a living from the game as adults. We do have a general culture focused on quick turn around with minimal investment for maximal profit. Nothing wrong with that, but a savy area management team could no doubt sell more lessons at ALL levels if there were more emphasis on instructor's just being great skiers and instructors. That includes training, etc... In the end though, it really is a game, this sliding around on snow thing. There are some great life benefits for all involved, but it really is just 'play'.

I should be surprised at the things people knowingly sweep under the rug with feel-good-isms or verbal glad-handing and baby-kissing.

But I'm not.

Notice the peripheral minimizing of the nothing-wrong-with-that bit of "no seriously Edgar, I did not witness your signing that fraudulent tax return, and I did not hear you tell me that your accountant keeps 2 sets of books, and I never saw you fucking your secretary in her car in the parking garage that one night about 3 weeks ago around 7:30 pm."

There's really nothing wrong with a culture that cares only about profit and really doesn't give a flying fuck about what is destroyed on the way to making that glorious profit, and I don't know why anyone would ever criticize it.