Blow Up The World With Communist Sparkles

Subtitle: Wurst-review: Oppenheimer

Would you believe, dear wurst-reader, I bought the movie Oppenheimer, like, almost a year ago and finally gave it look last night? What took so long? Not sure. But. Perhaps. Maybe. I’m going through a kind of Christoper Nolan wurst-phase? You know, on account, I’ve watched a series of Nolan films in the past few months. First. I binged the Dark Knight series which kinda changed my mind about what I considered the wurst Batman ever. For. Don’t you know. Over the years I’ve watched Nolan’s Batman, albeit not in-sync, since release. With that in mind, I still don’t like Christian Bale as Batman but the movies are pretty good–except for being so dark. I think. Ok. Scratch that. Then, after reading Kip Thorne’s book, I rewatched Interstellar (like three times). See my previous wurst-post. After a couple of weeks of wurst-contemplation, I finally got around to Oppenheimer. In short. The movie is VERY so-so. And I can’t understand why there’s any hype about this Nolan fellow.

The reasons it took me so long to watch the movie Oppenheimer is most likely two fold. First. The Manhattan project is nothing new to me. I’ve read a few books about it and seen a few movies about it through my long, wurst-life. Is The Manhattan Project a story worth dramatising? I’m not convinced it is. Then again. To his credit, that’s not what Nolan did. Second. I’ve always considered Oppenheimer (the man) as part of the/a sub-plot of the/a story about the Manhattan Project. Obviously this movie isn’t about the Manhattan Project. Maybe it should have been.

So let me cut to the chase. The only character and storyline of this movie that interested me from three long hours of over-kill is Florence Pugh and the missed chance to explain to #Americants (of today) why/how the communist party and/or communism had a minor strong hold on parts of society before, during, and after World War 1 & 2. The rest of the movie and cast… What’s the best word here? OVERKILL. No. Wait. There’s another word. BORING.

And while I’m at it. For the wurst-life of me, other than, maybe, Ford v. Ferrari, I don’t understand how Matt Damon is in movies. The man is the same person/character in everything movie I see with him in it. Also. How the fcuk did Robert Downey Jr. land his role as Admiral Strauss? No matter how much makeup he wears, no matter how old they make him, I guess I’m the only one who sees nothing else but Tony Stark every second he’s on the screen. Take all your money and run, Robert!

The only way this movie could have been good–according to wurst-writer, of course–is if there were more focus on the communism thing. And so. Here’s where Nolan failed. Does the book this film is based on cover the communism thing better? I have no idear on account I feel no compulsion to read it. The thing is, dear wurst-reader, #Americant is so obsessed with propagandising anti-communism that no one knows what it actually is. But the people in Oppenheimer’s day–they knew all about it. And that’s what this film squandered. And so. Listen to all the MAGA $hitheads spewing communist-here and communist-there. Make sure you get that communist pig and wipe the floor with his entrails. As if any of these turd blossoms and/or Trump faecal matter have read a sentence written by Karl Marx. And so. So. Blame the blamers. As only #Americant can, baby. And while you’re at it, explode things so that movie screens are shinny and glittery and everything sparkles like Disney World exploding.

Rant on.

-T

Interstellar v. 2001

Wurst Subtitle: Kip Thorne’s The Science Of…

Three issues bugged me when I first saw Nolan’s Interstellar a few years ago. Since then I’ve rewatched the movie several times and another viewing is up soon on account of current affairs. In short. I kinda dig this film. That is. I dig the science in this film. That also said. Even though it’s taken a while, I finally got around to reading Kip Thorne’s book (about the science of the film). Not sure about you, dear wurst-reader, but Interstellar threw me for a couple loops when I first saw it–especially how it ended. And. Don’t you know. After reading it, Kip Thorne’s book threw me for a couple more loops. And so. I’ll go ahead and admit the wurst-obvious. After watching various Nolan films, especially the Dark Knight trilogy, I’ve not been impressed with Nolan. Kip Thorne, on the other hand… Ok. Inception was pretty good–but would have been better without Leo! But I wurst-die-gress.

The first of the three issues, and for wurst-me the least interesting, is the idear that Nolan has IMHO pretentiously attempted to top Stanley Kubrik’s 2001: A Space Odyssey. Did Nolan create a better film (than 2001)? Pretentious(ness) aside, I think not. On the other hand, as much as I adore 2001, the final dream sequence of the movie is what I consider Kubrik’s greatest error in film making. Which brings me to Nolan’s great film judgement error which came to me after reading Kip Thorne’s book. Kip Thorne, by-the-buy, is a theoretical physicist and was awarded the Nobel prize for some crazy physicists stuff. And so. Wow. Or. In short. Interstellar is supposed to be a science fiction movie, unlike other science fiction movies, based on real science. For those not in the know. Interstellar is the brain-child of Kip Thorne who subsequently provided all the science presented in the film. Who better qualified, eh? And. And. Again. Interstellar is a great film–at least it’s great considering that I haven’t rewatched any of Nolan’s other films. And I should also admit. As a child in the 70s who watched a lot of Batman, it took me a long time to watch The Dark Knight trilogy–which left me tongue tied not in a good way. So. Again. Again. I’m struggling with Nolan and his film making. Moving on.

Like Kubrik’s error in 2001 (the psychedelic dream sequence), Nolan’s error (pretentious(ness)) is he cannot maintain the claim that his film is based on real science through to the end. Kubrik filled space and missing narrative–thinking it was grand, ok, visibly acceptable, to just fill it all in with movie theatrics gibberish. Nolan does, of course, do a great job with all the real science up to a certain point. If only Kubrik had the same… privilege? But. I’m getting too personal.

Nolan’s problem, in wurst-writers opinion, is exemplified best when Cooper, after he falls into the black hole, is saved by higher dimensional beings (it took me three viewings to get this) who transport him from the black hole Gargantua back to earth (10 billion light years, was it?) in a tesseract (which I’m still not sure is a kind of spaceship). Of course, if you read his book, Kip Thorne does his best explaining/speculating how such a thing is/could be possible. But. In the end. Wurst-writer ain’t buyin’ it.

Ok. The third thing that bugs wurst-writer about this movie–a movie I really dig–is the brush-over, sweep it under the rug, let’s not go there part of the story where Nolan fails to explain how, after Cooper’s daughter obviously solves the gravity problem, how did they get those massive man made structures into space? I know. I know. They got those space stations, that were built on earth, that weigh lots of tons, into space because they solved the gravity problem. Really? That’s it?

  1. How was the gravity problem solved?
  2. When the gravity problem was solved, how did that enable getting those massive structures into space?

Luckily dear wurst-reader, the answer can be found in Kip Thorne’s book–not in the movie. And guess what? I don’t buy Kip’s explanation either. I mean. Get this. Kip writes in a few pages that once the gravity problem was solved mankind was able (paraphrasing), for a short period of time, to turn off earths gravity. Once turned off they could launch those massive structures into space. But Kip doesn’t stop there. Kip also adds the idear that they probably had to launch those ships real fast because once gravity was suspended the earth would soon lose its structural integrity which means it would most likely be sacrificed as the earth’s core can no longer be maintained so it’ll all go POOF once the core has no gravity controlling it! And why not on account the whole point of the movie is to find a new home planet for humanity and get everybody to it ASAP. In the meantime, kill it (earth) with fire on your way out–so there’s no evidence of what you (humanity) have done.

Needless to say, dear wurst-reader, wurst-writer has issues with the movie Interstellar. Does that mean it won’t be a movie that I’ll watch over and over and over again? No. I love this movie. The visuals–based on Kip Thorne’s science, especially the depiction of a black hole, is brilliant. The actors and screen writing is almost perfect, too–except Matt Damon. Yet. With all that wurst-said. What’s wurst-writer’s problem with Christopher Nolan? Oh wait. Did I mention… pretentious(ness)? Nomatter.

By-the-buy, dear wurst-reader. If you are, as I was, interested in the science behind the movie Interstellar, definitely check out Kip Thorne’s book. It’s not just a great read but the way he writes about his Hollywood experience is endearing.

Rant on.

TS

wurstwriter.com and good luck cause you’all need it.

Saved By A Raspberry Pi

As noted here, it took about two years too long to move from an Intel Mac to a Mx Mac. Although I really dug my 2017 12” MacBook–yes, the little one with the funky Butterfly keyboard–I should have moved on from it much earlier than I did. The thing is, the reason I didn’t move on, which is unlike previous Mac upgrade situations I’ve experienced, was because of two things–two alternative things. The first?

My better-half gifted me a iPad Air 5, the one with the new M1 chip. Although it took a few months to get used to that touch screen–of which I’ve never been a fan–once I hooked it up to an external monitor and then a keyboard and mouse–it pretty much rocked my world. Could an iPad completely replace a Macintosh for me? I’ve been using Macs since the early 1990s. Even though I finally upgraded to a M3 MacBook Air recently, I cannot say unambiguously that in the future I might give up not only Macintosh but laptops. The friggin iPad is that good! But until then…

The second thing that proved to be enough of a alternative to postpone upgrading my Mac was/is the Raspberry Pi 5. The thing is, I’ve been using Raspberry Pi’s since version 2 of the hardware was released. Always a linux fan, a Pi for me was all about practicing that infamous and arduous command line that most graphical interface operating system users love to hate. That lead to me discovering Raspberry Pi as a media server, NAS server and audio player replacement–which meant I could finally get rid of all that heavy and cumbersome stereo and/or AV equipment that I’d been lugging around for most of my adult life. But then something else happened. After long delays due to Covid, I finally got my hands on the 5th generation Raspberry Pi. Even though the 4th generation Pi was great, the 5th gen really shattered the ceiling for using this little credit card sized hardware board as a desktop PC. The Pi 5 worked so well that, combined with my fancy new iPad Air, switching the monitor and keyboard between the two, I didn’t need Macintosh— at least while I wasn’t ready to afford a new one. With that in mind. Let the fact that I finally upgraded my Mac not take away from having found a seriously viable alternative for my personal computing needs.

Whether running Ubuntu, MX-Linux or the standard Raspberry Pi OS, the Pi 5 is the bomb as a desktop device. This is especially true when one considers the cost of a new Mac. I ended up mostly using MX-Linux as my desktop Pi OS and with it connected via a very long USB-A stereo cable to my stereo amplifier in my office, wired into my home network and server via gigabyte ethernet and using an old wired USB-A mouse, it was every bit as good as my ageing 12” 2017 MacBook–even though it was horrendously inelegant. In fact, the only time I used my old MacBook was to type a few blog posts here or there on account it’s kinda of rough weening myself of writing on a Mac. But I can imagine that the weening will eventually happen–it feels almost inevitable.

The Pi 5 is definitely an alternative desktop for anyone looking to save money but not compromise performance. Whether viewing movies and tv via my network media server or watching YouTube, the Pi 5 performed way better than my old Mac. It didn’t out perform my iPad Air 5 though. But that’s neither here nor there on account the Pi 5 has no business being compared to anything considered mobile.

Rant on.

-T

How To Cook The Underbelly Of Cooking

About two months ago, while driving the Atlantic and Mediterranean costs of France in the WunderVan, running away from one storm after the other, once getting evacuated from a camp site due to heavy rain, I finally got around to listening to Anthony Bourdain’s Kitchen Confidential. Indeed. Audio books are becoming the norm as I, after thirty plus years living in Europe, finally get to see some of it while on the run in my pseudo hippy bus slash camper van.

Anthony Bourdain’s brilliantly narrated TV and media presence always caught my ear. The way he tells the story of not only his love of cooking but how he weaves a fine thread of (his) life through cooking made great documentary-like television. Of all the cooks on tv or the intewebnets, bellowing both exuberance and preparation and consumption of food, Bourdain was and still is the best. Bourdain’s laissez faire, or is it nonchalant, or is it hippy-art delivery of all-things food might never be topped. When I heard that he killed himself my first thought was: what a fcuking waste.

One of the things that makes Kitchen Confidential such a good listen is Bourdain narrating it. This is only my second audio book, and both were narrated by the author. Are self narrated audio books better than third party narration? I guess I’ll have to figure that out for myself. Anywho. Five plus hours of nonstop restaurant and kitchen stories working FOR THE MAN or the mafia or with dope-heads and thereby losing oneself to drugs and booze and women and and and for the sake of making something to eat, almost feels like a rock star story. Or is it Icarus? Again. Nomatter. The thing is. I could listen to Bourdain for many more hours–even though some of the book is a bit tideous. When it’s not tideous this book is nothing less than an ode to not only good food but how to enjoy preparing it–with plenty of tips about how to do it. I especially like the stuff about keeping your station orderly and clean–the thing I pride myself on when I’m cooking at home. The thing that so many people forget when they cook–thereby leaving a huge mess for someone else to clean because, well, messy people always think someone else should do the cleaning. And even though Bourdain comes from elite blood where he admits to parents thinking/wishing he’d been a doctor or scientist or business man he dances around elitism with brilliant but simple narration portraying bottom up cooks, dishwashers, waiters AND waitresses, prep stations, cooking tools, learning Spanish (so one can work with the low wage help in the kitchen), etc., all in search of the perfect meal–which ultimately isn’t the meal but instead the way one gets to it. And then there’s the way he briefly but precisely explains the taste of oysters that he discovers on the Atlantic coast of France–where I too have indulged myself–is poetic and mouth watering.

There’s a few non cooking issues that Bourdain brings up in his narrative that stood out for me, especially considering that he took his own life in 2018 in a small town in France–which we passed by listening to this book. The first is his drug addiction. The whole heroin thing kinda freaked me out. The idear that one can work in a kitchen, with all those sharp tools, while hooked to heroin felt a bit far fetched. Then again, I do recall how heroin, once you come off the rush, works well with cocaine. Of course, Bourdain brags about his coke use too. Yeah. He brags about lots of other drugs. Ok. There’s that. Boring.

The other issue is the almost prophetic mention of a cook he knew who took his own life because, according to Bourdain, he couldn’t take the pressure of high-end, executive restaurant cooking. He mentions this suicide at least twice in the book and one can hear in his voice that something (relatable) is on his mind. One of the things I’ve always admired but also questioned about Bourdain is his ability to maintain such a sleek and Hollywood-like appearance during every onscreen presence. I mean. This man eats and drinks and smokes in every one of his Parts Unknown shows. How the heck does he stay so thin and looking so handsome? Oh yeah. He’s no longer a drug addict. Yeah, right.

Bourdain was supposed to be clean for the last years of his life. But I don’t believe it for a second. This man was definitely haunted–in more ways than one. Did he ever really kick the heroin habit? The coke? What he obviously didn’t kick was the mindset that one can hear in (his) soliloquy. It’s the same voice through and through–a voice of burden, a voice haunted, a voice that is somehow not selfless but is, at times, empty and void for all the wrong reasons.

RIP Anthony Bourdain!

Rant on.

-T

Out With Old In With…

Been a long time coming, dear wurst-reader. The better-half and I bought 12” MacBooks–the ones with the funky keyboard–in 2016/17 respectively. Although the 2017 device served me well for a few years, as is always the case with Apple krapp, the time inevitably arrives where one bites the bullet and opens the wallet anew. On the good side, though, compared to Windows machines, Macs can forcibly last a long time. I was able to use a 2010 MacBook Pro for almost eight years. But then again. Take my money bi-otch.

As usual, I put off upgrading my MacBook for as long as possible–stretching it and stretching it. For you see, dear wurst-reader, my MacBook had the i5 intel processor and the512GB SSD. My wife’s had the i3 intel and the 256GB SSD. The difference between the two? The i5/512 SSD was significantly faster and hence more compatible with the (its, shorter than what I was hoping for) future. My wife’s i3 MacBook couldn’t go past MacOS Ventura but after even three years of use was practically un-useable. Like I wurst-said, though, mine made it all the way to Sonoma and I got four, four and half years out of it. Nomatter. Time to move on.

When Apple introduced its new M-chips, I fought long and hard to keep my tiny, almost perfect form-factor 12” MacBook, including its obsolete Intel chip, running. As cumbersome as the keyboard was, as limited as the single USB-C port was, that fcuking minimalist design and “Retina” display was, other than hand-me-down iPads I got from my wife, my main driver. I loved that MacBook and did a whole bunch of wurst-writing with it, among other things. And so. In this world of monopolies galore, where we must consume-and-survive, I soldiered on. Enter all-things wurst-new.

My first foray into Apple’s M-chips was when I knew about two years ago that my MacBook was on its last days–according to Apple’s forced obsoletism. And after using an iPad here and there, and also knowing that new M-chips MacBooks are on the way, I jumped at the offer from my better-half to get the new iPad Air 5, which had the new M1 chip in it. Long story short. That little friggin iPad replaced my MacBook with ease. I could even connect a external monitor where after a few system updates I was able to use the iPad just like my MacBook, including an external bluetooth keyboard and Magic Mouse. Can an iPad replace a MacBook? Ulimately, for me, at this time, no. Will this new MacBook Air M3 be my last MacBook? It just might be. But let me move on from the iPad stuff.

The best part of the 12” MacBook, when I bought it, was its size. As a travel device it was, at the time, perfect. Was it as good as an iPad? Two years ago I couldn’t answer that cause I had no real world experience with iPads. At the least, with the 12” MacBook, rude passengers putting their economy seat all the way back was no big deal. A laptop any bigger just doesn’t work in economy seating on airplanes–unless the person in front of you never reclines their seat. If only Apple would/could be regulated to, at the least, lighten up on their forced obsoletism… Anywho. I’m rambling. Moving on.

When my new 13” MacBook Air with 16GB RAM and a 512GB SSD arrived about two weeks ago, the first thing I noticed was I wouldn’t be using it in economy class–it’s that much bigger than the 12”. On the other hand, my better half and I rarely fly anymore–as we’ve turned to van-life and driving around Europe in VW Camper Van (Bulli). That said. This new MacBook Air with M3 chip is the bomb. Not only is it screaming fast but the size difference compared to the 12” is unmeasurable. There’s simply no comparison. Plus. I don’t have to concentrate anymore when typing–the keyboard is so much better than those mis-directed butterfly keys on the 12”.

Although I don’t really pay much attention anymore to the newest and the shiniest, right after I ordered my new MacBook Air M3, Apple introduced new M4 MacBook Pros for the holidays. Luckily new MacBook Airs with M4 won’t arrive till next year–so I’m safe with the timing of my purchase. The only thing that does bother me, though, is the idear that Apple is now no longer selling M3 MacBook Airs with 8GB ram. Can you believe it!!! Apple has finally heard the call. 8GB is/was an f’n joke–not to mention the 256GB SSD. They’ve now bumped up the Airs to 16GB RAM as standard but I think they’re still including a 256GB SSD. The real bomb is the 16GB devices are the same price as the 8GB–which means, if I had waited a bit longer, I could have gotten 24GB RAM for the price I paid for the 16GB. So goes the rat race, eh.

In conclusion.

The M3 MacBook Air is waaaaaaay too much computer for me. And man oh man do I love it. The screen is amazing, the keyboard makes me realise what I was missing all those years with butterfly keys and the new chassis fits my world better than the wedge version of the previous Airs. Having MagSafe charging and two USB-C ports is fine for my needs as I use one port for an external monitor and the other for reading/writing micro sd cards when fiddling with all the Raspberry Pis I use in my home. The only question is, when will obsoletism set-in anew?

Rant on.

-T

Hate Bigotry Racism Greed Wins The Loser Game Again

Obviously, dear worst-reader, worst-writer has been on a hiatus. Reason? What is there to worst-write in the wake of #Americant political and social upheaval? I know. I know. The Biden years should have been a relief from the Trump years. But they weren’t. Of course. Let’s not mince worst-words here. Worst-writer is liberal. That is. I’m all for liberal democracy. And so. I voted for Kamala the other day. And we all know who won. And boy did HE win. At last look Kamala didn’t even get seventy million votes. Trump is pushing seventy-five million. That’s nearly identical to what he got in 2020. Which brings one to the following conclusion. Kamala DID NOT motivate a whole bunch of people to vote. Didn’t Biden get over eighty million votes in 2020? Nomatter.

As much as this election hurts, there is one worst-solace that I can give. Just like worst-writer, it’s time to embrace your inner loser. For. Dear worst-reader. Don’t you know. Worst-writer has long since given up on being a victim. A victim of these times, of this political chaos. For. You see. I too tried to play the game. And as I was losing the game, I tried to blame others or my circumstance or my ex-wife and/or all the really krappy choices I made in life. That’s how we avoid recognising that we’re not victims but instead we’re just fcuking losers. Unfortunately. All those morons that re-elected cheeto-jezus have a much longer road to travel–if they ever travel it all–when it comes to realising they too are losers. And so. Conservatives once again win the day. For the grand reward of fighting your inner loser is the gratification of greed, hate, racism and fear-mongering. Let them all swoon in it for the next four years. (Hopefully it’ll only last that long.)

Rant on.

-T

Geriatric Rock On

When I first read–sometime in either 2020 or 2021–that the Stones were working on a NEW studio album there was worst-wonderment. How can that be, I thought. Of all the elite geriatric rockers which of them needs to bring a NEW studio album? How bout re-record something? Cover something Jazzy? Tour with someone younger?

The thing is, dear worst-reader, I‘ve paid twice in the last twenty years to see the Stones. I would pay again to see them in wheelchairs. Oh what a sucker I am for a live version of Sympathy For The Devil. Then I thought. How the heck can they bring a NEW album in the middle of covid? Turns out a NEW studio album wasn’t cut short by covid but instead by the loss of Charlie Watts. Sadness there, eh. Besides. Considering their chemical induced history, covid had nothing to offer these old guys.

Charlie Watts was the glue of The Rolling Stones, dear worst-reader. The utility of the Stones is Keith and, perhaps, Wood. Oh how I love Keith‘s guitar style. His ability to be clinically yet rhythmically late (or is it early) has mesmerised worst-moi for decades. Sometimes I listen to them to hear his uniqueness. Which brings me to the aesthetics of this band.

I remember when I was kid in the 70s and listening to the Stones for the first time, which wasn‘t easy by-the-buy on account I wasn‘t allowed to listen to that type of music. With that in mind, I managed to get my hands on a battery powered RadioShack radio that had FM. That‘s right, dear worst-reader. My previous portable radio at the time had AM. Both were small and portable enough to hide from the parental powers-that-be, don’t you know. But FM was/is the bomb. Anywho. I would sneak away into the woods behind my parent’s house and tune into any rock radio station I could receive. There were two or three stations where I could get good reception but only one of them would play what I wanted to hear. Blasphemous, vile, vulgar… rock music.

I have no memory of what the first Stones song is that I heard. There is only the memory of listening to an interview with Mick Jagger when I was eleven or twelve. After the interview was over the station probably played Brown Sugar or Angie or whatever. But here‘s the thing, dear worst-reader. Having grown up with a German accented mother and precariously religious stepfather I couldn’t help but wonder how the heck does Mick Jagger have such a heavy British accent when being interviewed but when he sings he sounds almost American and the song I loved (still love) the most is about the devil? Ok. As frivolous as that worst-thought is, or before having to get-on with explaining Mockney or the ills of #Americant albeit misplaced religious vehemence, let‘s get on with this worst-post.

Hackney Diamonds has been in my ears almost every day since its release. I haven‘t listened to a new album like that since Midnight Sun (GOASTT) a few years back. And. Although at a day or three before turning sixty and having come to terms with rediscovering Bowie in my early forties–the most played album I‘ve ever put in my ears is Reality–I’m tickled to death that Hackney Diamonds has stirred me. With that in worst-mind, I don‘t usually get attached to music anymore. Reason? Most music these days, more than ever before, is too produced, manufactured, formatted, etc. But let me not get too far off subject.

Hackney Diamonds is f’n brilliant. The reason I say that isn’t so much due to the Stones ability to make music. That’s a given. I say it because, well, holy krapp, these guys are f’n old. How did they pull this off? In fact, right after hearing Angry, that was an early release of the album, I happened across a internet vid of Robert Plant singing, live, Stairway To Heaven for the first time in seventeen years. What struck me about this unexpected but welcome comparison, especially after I was able to ear Hackney Diamnd in full, was the fact that Plant can’t bring it anymore with a song like Stairway To Heaven. Don’t get me wrong. I have been listening to Plant for decades post Led Zepplin. Mighty ReArranger is, on my list of lists, as one of the top five all-time greatest rock albums. That said–again. Plant can’t bring it like he once could. But you know who can bring it–like he once could? Mick f’n Jagger. Holy krapp!

Hackney Diamonds brought this old rocker to tears–twice. The first tears started with Live By The Sword. What a behind the wheel of a ’73 Nova kinda song it is. The second tears came with The Sweet Sound Of Heaven. OMG, dear worst-reader. I haven’t heard an epic blues, rock, soul, gospel song like that since One or Pride In The Name Of Love (U2), Candy (Iggy), Hereos (Bowie), in years–it’s that f’n good. Oh! What I would give to hear the Stones play it live in Madison Square Garden with an orchestra. Yeah. I would give The Big Lebowski one of my toes to hear it live.

By-the buy. The album ends with a cover of Muddy Waters. The song sung, according to Mick and that interview I heard forty-five years ago, contains lyrics that gave the Rolling Stones their name.

Rant on.

-T

Puritans Equal Liberals?

There are moments, dear worst-reader, that motivate worst-writer to once again write some WORST. Who‘d a thunk it, eh? Write something after not writing much at all over the past year or so. Then again. It is (all) about worst-writing, of course, about all things #Americant. And so. Before I get too far off worst-subject, let’s not make this worst-post about worst-moi. Or? Here my beloved and missed #Americant getting it (all) wrong. Once again.

Rant on.

-T

Link: https://www.dailykos.com/stories/2023/10/11/2198721/-Rep-Nancy-Mace-dives-into-the-MTG-Boebert-Gaetz-attention-seeking-Olympics?pm_campaign=front_page&pm_source=top_news_slot_8&pm_medium=web

There Is No Deep-State

Alternative worst-title: More of the old man on the porch yelling: get off my…!

Oh, dear worst-reader, when will it end? Will it eventually end as it all ends? You know. The old man finally keels over and dies–right there on his beloved front porch? Then, finally, you think/wish/hope the day has arrived when a/the old man can no longer yell at the kids (anyone) in or near his yard/fence/house. But then. Suddenly. In an aggravated state, you realise there will always be a/the old man. And so. Guess what? Just when you thought you finally got the old man out of the neighbourhood, there is, don’t you know, room enough in THE LAND OF FREEDOM TO BE STUPID, my beloved & missed #Americant, another bitter, bigoted, old man–smiling n’all on a new front porch. Oh well.

I crouched down the other morning, hiding behind the vale of a pre-dawn stroll with my dog Beckett, the killer pug, and gave Bill Maher’s podcast of his show–the new old man on a/the porch–a listen. Other than his moronic take on cancel culture, having as a guest the cancelled former governor of New York, there’s one other part of this show I had to gag through (see video link above). And so.

Worstwriter’s take on THE DEEP-STATE is thus:

There is no deep-state. There’s nothing even close to a deep-state. And there’s never been a deep-state. What there is, though, is something much worse (worst). It is the #Americant ur-disease, a disease that has never been cured or analysed because it doesn’t kill the host. Instead it makes the host really, really, really f’n STUPID. And what’s the harm in getting stupid? This disease, by-the-buy, is called CONFORMITY. It might be called compulsion–as in compulsive behaviourism. Conventionalism might be another word for it. For the sake of this worst-post, let’s stick with CONFORMITY.

Conformity is the reason there is no deep-state but it’s also a/the reason there is no need for a deep-state. Conformity has become the norm as it’s lingered in the #Americant psyche for generations. Whether it’s a career, a community, an education, a club, a tribe/team, the only thing that comes from it all is conformity. That is. My beloved & missed #Americant eats, drinks, $hits and fcuks conformity as though it were life giving air. It permeates everything. It is the thread–or is it the glue–that binds, don’t you know. In other worst-words. No one thinks independently. There is no questioning (of) anything and everything. And there is no creative thought–to things like government and politics and society–and how to manage it all. There is only, especially in times of crisis, which has been the state of things for decades, the ability, as a nation, as a cultural, as a society, to simply–in the words of The Dude: abide.

There is a way to live comfortably with the conformity disease, though. Money. Lots of money.

Now stick that on your #MAGA hat suckers.

Rant on.

-T

Links:

Link To The Stars

Well, here we go, dear worst-reader. The time has arrived. I mean. How long has worst-writer avoided upgrading his/her home network and/or internet provider? Of course. One of the reasons I’ve avoided it most certainly can’t have anything to do with the idear internet in Germany sucks. What could/should/would require one to change? Indeed. And so. I’ve taken the plunge and am gonna FINALLY give my man Musk some of my limited funds. Starlink here we come. And this is all I can provide of an unboxing. With that in mind…

I’m gonna surely utilize the thirty day refund thingy—if it sucks.

Wish me luck.

Rant on.

-T

Five Foot Three Three Hundred Pounds Of Americant

Update: 26, August. I’ve since learned that there is some “walking back” regarding this song… from the singer. Well what do you know. Does worst-writer care? Probably not. In other worst-words, let these morons fight among themselves with all their hate and bigotry.

Wow. It’s been awhile, dear worst-reader. For worst-posting, that is. Has worst-writer given up on worst-posting? Maybe. Not sure. Will this worst-post be a comeback? Again. Not sure. With all that in worst-mind, I wasted a thought or three on whether or not to actually post a link to the above video–as opposed to using a screenshot. But then I thought, as a leftist bitcher of all-things worst, what the hell. Let worst-readers the world-over make up their own mind. And besides, it is a catchy tune–if you skip the grievance ridden, sexist, racists, hate filled dog whistling.

And so. Here is yet another example–and there are indeed so many–of why my beloved & missed #Americant is far away from America. Reason? When I viewed this video this morning, it had just over thirty one million views. Although I had heard of the song over the last few days I thought I could get away with not actually listening to it. I still have not listened to the previous racists, grievance ridden, stupid white man tune about living (or is it being stuck) in a small town. (Oops! Just listened to it too. Oh my!) Then I read that Oliver Anthony has turned down big money record deals. Really? A rightwing nut job with a dear stand and two Blondies as a background bitchin & moaning like only #Americants can is not cashing in? Selling out? Running (away) with the dough? Yeah. I’m sure that’s the case.

Nomatter, dear worst-reader. As with most worst-posts, there’s not much to what is trying to be said here. Other than, perhaps, considering the state of political and social affairs of my beloved & missed #Americant, when the fcuk is the straw finally gonna break the camel’s back? Or am I the only one with popcorn ready for the $hitshow that is a brewing storm in the minds and guns of all the conformists and miscreants that make THE LAND OF FREEDOM TO BE STUPID?

Rant on.

-T

White Lie vs Big Lie

Had to look it up, dear worst-reader. Had to look up what a white lie is. Reason? National (or is it media) gaslighting can be confusing. Or? Don’t you know. That thing that has turned my beloved & missed united mistakes of #Americant into a hellhole of mass shootings, train wrecks, bridge failures, shooting down a twelve dollar balloon with a four hundred million dollar anti-aircraft missile, potholes galore and last but certainly not least, the #Americant BFF, #Trump.

When I was a kid, a white lie was told when you got caught, crumbs on your face, with your hand in the cookie jar, and you deny having taken a cookie. It‘s simple form of defence, don‘t you know, against the tyranny of parents—or whatever authority is watching over you and your broken family life. Now. According to the definition above (pic), I‘m wrong. The definition above relegates a white lie to being unimportant or trivial and does no harm, etc. Let‘s see about that.

Today’s worst-post is about former prez pee-pee-hair vs what‘s left of rational thinking people in the LAND OF FREEDOM TO BE STUPID. For #Trump, rational thinking people could be the same as tyrannical parents—which I‘m sure he had. The problem is, as is the case with most peoples struggling to cope with the reality of consuming-to-survive, just like Mango Mussolini btw, all think that lying is relative. And so. Does it really matter if a lie, white or not, is trivial? If so. Can a white lie be as trivial as a big lie? Obviously—it sure can.

Think: corporal vs capital punishment.

The reality is, dear worst-reader, most of us are forced or coerced, in one way or the other, to kick the lie habit that childhood, broken or not, forces upon us. And that’s a good thing, right? For it should be common sense, from the get-go, that lying can, when pushed to the limits, make life difficult. But we’re #Americants, eh. Wait. Did I just worst-write common sense with the mention of a certain nationality? #Nomatter.

Lying effects relationships whether friend, lover or foe. It can ruin careers and burn bridges. And it can certainly ruin ones taste for cookies—out of Mom‘s cookie jar. Then again. If the lying life doesn’t or can‘t change, should it provide a lavish and luxuries life—for those who can pull it off because they know nothing else? You know. People like #Trump and most #OKBoomers. The privileged ones. The ones who have lived the lie that is meritocracy. Or. If you are reared in a world of lies, should it be a surprise to anyone that a new generation is falling for it? You know. George Santos or the physical manifesting of Beavis, Matt Gaetz? And let‘s not forget the daily use of lying (and cheating) that is a corporation—who are people too.

I no longer think about how or why #Trump and his kind aren‘t prosecuted. It‘s obvious that between the DOJ and moneyed interests, something has gone beyond being simply über wrong. #Americant! The only question I have is when will enough people wake up? Enough being more than a political majority. And that‘s where the ticket is, eh, dear worst-reader. The genius of #Trump is not his abilities to lie and cheat and grift. No. He‘s obviously been caught with a hand in the cookie jar his whole life. And so. It‘s the genius of the moneyed interests combined with political ideology that facilitates and enables lying and grifting and buffoonery at a cultural, social, political, WWE way of life—which so many are coerced, forced to assume.

Considering the recent evidence released from a defamation lawsuit filed against FoxNews can it be more obvious how a cultural of lies and grifting and scamming has permeated every aspect of life? Or is this the best evidence ever that it‘s time to stop via regulation—severe regulation—the political propaganda laid out for all to see twenty-four seven on the TV that turns so many people into complete and utter dunces? Indeed. Life can be a cookie jar even when the jar is empty.

#Americant, baby!

Rant on.

-T

Links:

How Not To Kill The Little Blue Birdy

I’m referring, of course, dear worst-reader, to my twitter account. Been on twitter since 2009–at least with (at)worstwriter. A few years back, when the right-wingers and #Trump started taking over the minds of THE LAND OF FREEDOM TO BE STUPID lost in social-media, I deleted all my tweets. Better get off this $hithole, I thought. It’s not as though worstwriter couldn’t be (mis)interpreted as a crazy. Or? Anywho. Long before that I got off facebag. As far as the other social-media thingies, I’m just not interested. But twitter. Twitter! I really wanted to somehow continue using it, even hoping that it could save itself. Reason? It’s a great source for newz. IMHO it’s also the best example yet of online connectivity (forget the whole social thingy). As far as all the bat$hit crazy goes, I think I’m pretty good navigating unscathed through it all.

Then I came across this article.

The effort was sparked when a tweet from the president, who has 37m followers, generated nearly 29m impressions while a similar tweet from Musk – who has 128m followers – generated little more than 9.1m impressions. -Source: see link below

Ok. Ok. I get it. Musk made a huge mistake NOT by buying twitter but buying it so overpriced that the only way to save himself from his own crazed antics is to either bankrupt it and then try to recoup some of his money selling it or go full throttle on turning it into a über bat$hit bat$hit $hithole of right-wing mindlessness galore that includes the dreams and strawberry flavoured nightmares of Ayn Rand.

Is this article chronicling yet another example of how rich people might, just might, not be as smart as some think they are? Delusions run amok? I mean. Seriously. Musk is gonna solve his bat$hit problems by reacting to his own personal inadequacies because POTUS (Biden) got more attention with a Super Bowl tweet than he did? This is jealously, right? Or is it spite? Stupidity–at the hands of the world’s richest man? This is how to run a business? #Nomatter

When I read this article my immediate reaction was: enough. It’s time to quit the online little blue birdy. But then I went online and only ended up cleaning out my follow list. Since I only use twitter for finding newz–and I made the mistake of following Musk–I’m gonna continue using it without following Der Führer of bat$hit and then reevaluate.

Rant on.

-T

Link: https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2023/feb/15/elon-musk-changes-twitter-algorithm-super-bowl-slump-report

PS What’s the deal with calling people who design a website engineers? WTF.

Toy Soldiering Politikiness


Can you believe it, dear worst-reader. Don‘t you know. Am I wrong. A newly elected house of mis-representative brought granades to work and dished them out as symbols to his compatriots. WTF. Indeed. Or. I guess. He did such a thing to celebrate his entering the sanctimony of the united mistakes of #Americant house of–you-know-what. Again. WTF. According to other worst-sources, this person is a child of my beloved & missed #Americants waroftheworlds. That is. He is part of a world that has given-in to the narrative of 9/11. Yet he (as so many others) have never asked… WHY would they do this? In other worst-words, this is what happens when you raise your boys NOT with education and cultivation but with guns and toys and tanks and toys and games and submissive wives, and and and, etc., etc.


Granades. Inert granades.

This is a person whose only solution to any political issue is… You guessed it. That‘s right. Violence. And we‘re not talking corporal punishment here. You know. The/that form of punishment that has, shall we say, influenced so many young people in my beloved & missed #Americant. Add to that. This is a war-child reared… You guessed it again. In/on war. And I’m worst-sure he served well. Then again. He knows NOTHING else. Such a gesture of gifting inert granades, made in the state he represents, proves that. Or? The saddest part? Technically he was never in a war. A declaration of war never happened in this mans life. The armies he fought against? Rag-tag criminals with a seriously ill-bent religious ideology. Is that an enemy? Well. Sure, it is. At the least. It was an enemy in the Middle Ages. And here we are.

The Middle Ages.

The thing is, dear worst-reader, I don‘t know what to be more sad about. All the death and destruction taking place because a once really, really cool nation-state was cool but has since been relegated to poverty galore aka consume-to-survive or the wanton ignorance of NOT rising above–all the above.

And there you have it.

Good luck suckers.

-T

Stupidity Weaponization Galore

It is, dear worst-reader, the greatest LAND OF FREEDOM TO BE STUPID ever. Oh, how I miss it. As in. You know. This expat misses home–even though I‘ve obviously found another home. A home away from home. A home that it is, only, a few hundred kilometers away from Europe‘s greatest war since, well, since you should know when. And what do I miss from my beloved & missed #Americant? The guns? No. The fake teets? Yes. The illusion of greatness? Indeed. That said, did you read that recent NYT article? You know. The article that kinda dropped the bomb on former prez pee-pee-hair‘s claim that his whole world, a world that he slimes around in and devours from the inside, not unlike an excrement parasite, with the claim certain things have been weaponized all in the name of crucifying him? Oh man, dear worst-reader. Just when you thought it couldn‘t get any worst. That it couldn‘t devolve beyond the rampant, useless murder-death-kill that is the 2nd Amendment rum amok. Right before your eyes and the mirror you refuse to look in–because dead souls have no reflection–all that is left is the utter uglies of disgusting old men who have carried that/a chip on their shoulder since the moment their disgusting and vile mothers birthed them. The grand old party, baby.

But before I get too far off worst-topic. The NYT article, baby.

On one of Mr. Barr and Mr. Durham’s trips to Europe, according to people familiar with the matter, Italian officials — while denying any role in setting off the Russia investigation — unexpectedly offered a potentially explosive tip linking Mr. Trump to certain suspected financial crimes. -Source link below

Wow. Where to begin. On a trip to Europe, Italy provided US government weaponized goons with tips regarding possible financial wrong doing by former prez Mango Mussolini. The key thing to keep in mind here is that these goons were working for Mango Mussolini. That is. They were working for him to try, through obvious and dubious means, to discredit the Mueller Report, aka the Russia Investigation. In other worst-words. Government cronies of former prez piss-hair were not only bathing themselves but lathering themselves to the hilt with conflicted interests. I guess they thought that lathering things might cover up the stench of their obvious corruption. Drain the swamp anyone? Or? It continues.

Ok. Ok. I get it why the Italians might know something about the former orange vomit president and his Mediterranean conniving. Keep in worst-mind, dear worst-reader, the Mediterranean is awash in Russian oligarchy $hit money. Where was it? Cyprus? Since the fall of the Soviet Union, hasn‘t Cyprus been the oligarchs island of choice when it comes to turning Rubels into Dollars? How much of Trump‘s foreign so-called golf assets were part of Russian oligarch money laundering–via The Med? How was he able to finance being able to put his vile name on Scotland’s oldest golf course? But on that note I should die-gress.

But that’s not all.

The memos were part of a trove provided to the C.I.A. by a Dutch spy agency, which had infiltrated the servers of its Russian counterpart. The memos were said to make demonstrably inconsistent, inaccurate or exaggerated claims, and some U.S. analysts believed Russia may have deliberately seeded them with disinformation. -Source see link below

The NYT article continues by referencing Dutch spies and how Europe‘s wooden-shoe people may or mayn‘t have information that either discredits or legitimizes the infamous Steele dossier. Ok. Hold a sec. The article doesn‘t do that directly. But. Based on what I‘m reading from this article, there is obviously some very salacious stuff that I‘m sure a lot of powerful people don‘t want revealed–and this article skirts around all that stuff ingeniously. For example. You remember the Steele dossiers, right? You know. It‘s the one where former prez Cheeto jeezus partook in turning a Moscow hotel bed, where Barak and Michelle Obama had once slept, into a urinal. Worst-writer‘s only question regarding this activity is three fold–and wouldn‘t it be great if the truth were someday revealed?

  1. Did Trump pay hookers to do the peeing?
  2. Did Trump do the peeing?
  3. Is Trump one of those men who likes being peed on?

But. Again. I die-gress.

The most shocking thing about this article, in my worst-opinion, is how the authors are probably holding back the majority of significant stuff–due to the disgusting, vile, salacious nature that is Donald Trump– because it may or mayn’t be better to hide The Swamp than to lay it bare. I mean. This level of corruption–the highest level no doubt–is beyond blatant and obvious. It’s as though it’s so in-your-face that you can’t see it anymore. But then again. STUPID and STUPIDITY is proving itself more and more to be a very useful thing–for those in power–as #Americants continue voting for them in droves. And so…

Good luck suckers.

Rant on.

-T

Link: https://www.nytimes.com/2023/01/26/us/politics/durham-trump-russia-barr.html

Pseudo-Review 3 – iPad Air 5, A While Later

Pseudo-Review 3 – iPad Air 5, A While Later

Alternative worst-title: Solving iOS 16.2‘s biggest problem

Previous pseudo-review here and here.

Well. Don‘t you know. Dear worst-reader. Worst-writer is still pretty tickled with the new iPad Air 5. In fact. Since the iOS 16.2 update, where there are significant improvements to driving a second monitor, I haven‘t touched my 2017 twelve inch MacBook. This iPad not only blows the MacBook away–even as a replacement for running my MacBook on my desktop in clamshell mode–every time I use it I can‘t get over how fast it is. That worst-said. I’m almost full-in on the iPad replacing the/my Mac. For example.

Using Apple’s StageManager means that I can easily integrate my entire workflow on two screens and at times it feels like I have three monitors. The thing is, I rarely used my MacBook monitor when on my desktop, hence clamshell. Even though the twelve inch MacBook is Apple’s smallest, the iPad has a much more useable desktop footprint. Again. Space saving clamshell mode. Obviously I also don’t have a very large desk, so space saving is important. As far as multi-monitor performance, the only issue I’m having is adapting to the differences between MacOS and iOS. As an old Mac user, the differences are not unsubstantial. But I think I’m making progress.

The main issue I‘m having with the iPad right now is, would you believe, that someone at Apple thought it a good idear to not make AirPlay available when the iPad is connected to an external monitor (see screenshot above)? WTF! I mean. This is/has to be an error. Or? #Nomatter. The work around I‘ve found for this, well, is to not use Airplay. Instead I’m connect via using Bluetooth to a Raspberry Pi 3b that has a Hifiberry DAC hat that is connected to a stereo and it works great. For those not in the know, the RPi3b has to have a USB bluetooth dongle, since it doesn‘t have BT onboard. There are still some issues with bluetooth connectivity but I‘ve worked them out by just sticking with Hifiberry‘s in-house OS for music play I’ll continue to work on them until Apple gets it together with Airplay. My pay-grade means that I can‘t get bluetooth working on any minimal Linux distribution on the RPi3b. HifiberryOS works like a charm, though.

A few other minor issues I‘m having? I‘m using the Keychron K2 version 2 external keyboard and for whatever reason it seems to disconnect out of the blue. It doesn‘t do it often but every once-a-once, usually after the Keychron recharges, things get hairy. Although it indicates that it reconnects right away once it‘s charged, typing doesn‘t work. Solution? Lot‘s of iPad restarts. Hopefully I don‘t have to replace this keyboard because I really dig typing with it. Might I eventually move to an iPad keyboard case? Maybe. Recent travels with the iPad haven‘t convinced me I can go without a physical, external keyboard.

Then there’s the issue of a Terminal app. Unlike MacOS, which comes with a Terminal app, that I need to manage all the Raspberry Pi‘s I have around my house, iOS doesn’t have one. Although I’ve tried a few via the AppStore, I’ve not been able to get any of them to work/connect. Again. WTF! Ok. Since I’m on a worst-roll. Another minor issue. And this relates to me getting used to iOS. The world of apps is really weird. The thing that kept my away from iPads through the years was the fact (idear) that Apps are not programs, at least they‘re not to me. Are they written/coded like programs? Sure. But I don‘t care. The thing is. Apps are nothing more than a way to make a webpage standalone–and look like it ain‘t a webpage. But. Again. I reckon I‘ve got a bit more iOS acclimating in front of me. Oh. Before I forget. The iPad as a desktop machine works really well with Apple‘s Magic Mouse. You know. Since I hate touchscreens. Who‘d a thunk it.

So there you have it, dear worst-reader. Worst-writer is on the verge of giving up on MacOS. This little iPad with only 64gb is flat-out stealing the thunder out of my Mac world, even though it still has a few flaws. Considering how I‘ve used iPads for only a short period of time and the significant improvements Apple‘s done with iOS, I can‘t praise it enough as a worst-writing work-horse.

Rant on.

-T

You Can Make This Stuff Up, Just Go For It

As the saying goes: you can‘t make this stuff up. Perhaps it‘s time to rethink. You know. As in. Who could make up the story that a two-bit, spoiled rotten inheritor kid, from a disgusting family of money earned as a slumlords in New York, who himself could never achieve ANYTHING on his own abilities, who then resorts to skirting the law in order to maintain whatever wealth he hasn‘t managed to squander, and then to rise to the office of president of the united mistakes of #Americant. WTF. Not shocked yet? Reason you‘re not shocked is the same as you wouldn‘t/couldn‘t smell the feces on account you live in a world of feces. Blah. Blah. Blah. Indeed. #Americant skillfully allowed this filth, of which, obviously, the country is awash, to rise to new heights. And why? Politics? Cynicism? Bigotry? Greed? Your capitalism got a snag in it? All the above? Again. Indeed. It‘s time to rethink. You can make this stuff up.

Take for example a repub nutjob that was recently elected to the people‘s house. George Santos. I mean. Come on. Is this guy really the reason that #Americants are gonna start questioning the legitimacy of resumes–as he lied about everything on his? Since Reagan resumes have been a lie. Since Nixon, the concept of meritocracy is a joke. Since Lincoln racism is American as apple pie. Since Washington the fascism has been alive and well. So what‘s the deal with now? Why has the $hitshow taken such a turn for the obvious worst? Again. Indeed. Indeed. Welcome to your world of all things worst. There is nothing else. But the lie.

If the likes of former prez pee-pee-hair can rise to the top as a scammer, why can‘t Santos? It‘s a $hitshow where the audience has been so dumbed down it can‘t tell the difference between rot, more rot and the image in the mirror it avoids on account, like Dracula, there is no image. It‘s about being so dead on the inside there‘s nothing to reflect. And so. #Trump rises. Santos rises. The entirety of the GOP rises like a magical flying feces spreading droplets of poop everywhere and the #Americant masses gobble it all up as an alternative to opioids. So if I sound a bit awash in Schadenfreude, dear worst-reader. You are correct. This Santos thing, including the rot that is New York politics, where nothing is being said about the political vacuum left with the downfall of the Coumo dynasty, I‘m laughing my arse off. This is hill-Larry-us.

But enough of all my pseudo, inverted optimism. Good luck suckers.

Rant on.

-T

Links:

Two Out Of Three Ain‘t Bad

Don‘t worry, dear worst-reader. I‘m not gonna go there. Well. Not gonna go deep there. For. Don‘t you know. After what happened in Brazil the other day, there‘s a bit too much comparison and contrast going on. I mean. The worst-thing is, there need not be ANY comparison—or contrast—here. Reason? It is the same friggin thing. In fact. If you ask worst-writer–and you obviously should not, the only thing that differentiates Jan 6, 2021 at the united mistakes of #Americant Capitol building and what took place the other day in Brazil, is how authorities–in Brazil–immediately started arresting the nutbags. Of course, let‘s not forget the Germans in this Spiel. Or have you already forgotten about the Reichsburger? If so. No worries. Before these nutbags could even attack the Bundestag, they were friggin arrested. How long did it take to arrest the #Americant nutbags.

But I die-gress.

Rant on.

-T

Links:

Telling It Like It Is

But the second result of junk politics is more insidious. It solidifies the cult of the self, the amoral belief that we have the right to do anything, to betray and destroy anyone, to get what we want. The cult of the self fosters a psychopathic cruelty, a culture built not on empathy, the common good and self-sacrifice but on unbridled narcissism and vengeance. It celebrates, as mass media does, superficial charm, grandiosity and self-importance; a need for constant stimulation; a penchant for lying, deception and manipulation; and an inability to feel guilt or remorse. This is the dark ethic of corporate culture, celebrated by the entertainment industry, academia and social media.

Source link below

As the $hitshow of my beloved & missed #Americant enters yet another phase of greed-mongering galore in the aftermath of recent House Speaker debacle, worst-writer relaxes in the semi-retired luxury of shinny nothingness that is chronicling everything WORST. Obviously there are those who can do it better, dear worst-reader. For example. Chris Hedges. The only worst-question remaining is: who is gonna read Hedges and thereby have their world turned around?

Rant on.

-T

Link: https://scheerpost.com/2023/01/08/chris-hedges-americas-theater-of-the-absurd/

First Audio Book

Pseudo Review: Al Franken, Giant of the Senate

Another example of how worst-writer is no early adopter, dear worst-reader. Took till recent drive up and down the boot of Italy to finally listen to what‘s known as an audio book. Which book? Well. Don‘t you know. I‘ve always been an Al Franken fan. Since his days on SNL to his amazing Minnesota Senate win in 2008, I‘ve always payed attention to Franken. In fact. I was hoping, in the fifteen or so hours this audio book takes to end, which, btw, is a great way to deal with a more than four thousand kilometer drive, he would say something about how/why he quit the Senate after a bunch of ridiculous accusations of sex harassment surfaced. Accusations, by-the-buy, that were at best out of context and at worst part of a life-time of writing #Americant comedy. But then I realized that he published this book before resigning. Oh well. More on that here.

The thing is, dear worst-reader, Franken should have never quit the Senate. In fact. He should run for president. No. Serious. After reading/listening to this book, which I don‘t consider all-that great, for worst-moi, he is an American gem. What a guy. Is that enough audio book buttering? Yeah. Let’s move on.

This book, at times, drags on and on and on. It is filled with filler and more Senate filler. The parts about his comedy career are fine, especially the stories he has from working on SNL. The latter chapters of the book, though, deal with a tick too many uninteresting if not boring details about the politics of being in the Senate. Let me worst-restate that. Franken rambles on and on about the internal politics of the Senate. Not only that. This book has one other weakness. Even though I don‘t think he should have resigned, especially considering the likes of Bill Cosby, who drugged women for sex or Louis C.K., who jerked off in front of women for kicks, Franken was/is nothing more than a old school #OKBoomer practical joker stuck in a collective society that is sexually repressed. Oh. And. He definitely crossed the line with writing and/or creating comedy. That worst-said, he obviously never abused anyone. Franken should have fought all the accusations on that basis. Then again.

Franken tells the story of how, during his first campaign for the Senate, the media tried to portray him negatively by bringing up his comedy writing past which is full of atypical #Americant sexual repression humour. You know. The whole reason one of the greatest yet unrecognized accomplishments of technology is dick pics. Anywho. While working at SNL during a late night last minute rewrite session Franken wrote a joke that he calls a bridge. A bridge is supposed to be a method not for writing a joke but instead for rewriting or finding a better joke. This particular bridge he references details how he crossed the/a line. It was a rape joke. Now. As I listened to him explain the context of this bridge, I do not agree that joking about rape in any context is funny. And he continues to try and explain it that way. Nor do I think rape jokes can or should lead to better, more acceptable humor. He then explains what the result of the bridge joke was, which didn’t include reference to rape but instead something about homosexuality. WTF? What I realized listening to him explain all this was that Franken is, of course, part of a generation #OKBoomer that is obsessed with sex. Hence. Sexual repression galore equals #Americant. You know. Dick pics. Or. Lots and lots of sexual repression jokes that may or mayn‘t include rape–locker room banter here or there.

She: Say! Is your fly open or are you just happy to see me?

Ha. Ha. Anywho. For Franken, if this bridge method was how he worked, what other bridges didn‘t make it to press? Then there‘s the issue of his Playboy Porn-o-Rama article.

In May 2008, the Minnesota Republican Party released a letter about an article Franken had written for Playboy magazine in 2000 titled “Porn-O-Rama!” The letter, signed by six prominent GOP women, including a state senator and state representative, called on Franken to apologize for what they called a “demeaning and degrading” article. His campaign spokesman responded, “Al had a long career as a satirist. But he understands the difference between what you say as a satirist and what you do as a senator. And as a Senator, Norm Coleman has disrespected the people of Minnesota by putting the Exxons and Halliburtons ahead of working families. And there’s nothing funny about that.” -Source: see link below

Is there a better example of sexual repression than Playboy or right-wing politicians? As an #OKBoomer I‘m sure the Playboy article was funny. That worst-said. I’m surprised staunch, sexually repressed right-wingers couldn‘t find more dirt on Franken. The reason they can‘t? All this stuff, in comparison to real abusers, is harmless. Anywho. As boring as sexually repressive humor is, this book was worth a listen. And so.

Franken should spend the rest of his life fighting against the reason he was forced, by Democrats, to quit the Senate. At the same time he should run for president. What he shouldn‘t do is write another book about the internals of the Senate. Another book about how to be a comedian I‘ll definately read. I mean. Does anyone really want to read/listen to how the sausage is made in the Senate? Especially the Senate dick sausage? But working on SNL? Yeah. That‘s the ticket.

She (on the phone): I‘m on my way. You want me to bring anything?

He (on the phone): Bring beer, arrive naked.

Ha. Ha. Duh.

Rant on.

-T

Links:

Just When You Thought…

Alternative worst-title:

It’s New To Me: Accelerationism.

Wow, dear worst-reader. As if there’s not enough to busy the worst-mind. You know. Enough mindfcuk bat$hit that turns the head(s) of MAGA aka THE LAND OF FREEDOM TO BE STUPID aka my beloved & missed #Americant. Oh. It is everywhere. Namely. There’s former prez Cheeto-jeezus. Forgotten him yet? Talk about right-wing bat$hit looney run amok. Yeah, he’s a doozy, eh. And what about flatearthers–which has obviously been around for a while–unless you consider, I worst-suppose, there might be little difference between flatearthers and deep state believers. By-the-buy, the deep state is nothing more than two sides of the same financial and economic authoritarianism fighting for top or bottom on a bed of rotten roses, underneath hideous and flaky bedsheets. Oh! And let’s not forget that the moon landings were faked. Yeah, baby! Fake newz galore. And the Illuminati? That’s a classic one, right? But what about the new bat$hit stuff? Like the last generation. Oh wait. No. They’re actually kinda cool, kinda real, not bat$hit. Moving on.

Here in Germany there’s the Reichsbürger which has somehow connected itself to Qanon. Go figure! Yet. For those in the less slightly-bat$hit-know, let’s not forget libertarianism. The king and queen and monarchy of twenty-first century bat$hit. Libertarianism, according to worst-writer, is a conservative system of thought that, for whatever worst-reason, you have because you lost, at some point or other, your balls, which is the reason why your true calling, aka darwinism equates with economics, confuses the bee-jeezus out of you to the point that you can’t tell the difference between right and wrong, left or right or who/what you attempted to rape the previous night. Blah blah blah.

Oh yeah. Accelerationism.

On a pod-cast the other day, dear worst-reader, I got thrown for a loop. And don’t you know, just when you think the bat$hitters can’t come up with something new, you sneeze and look up at what you just heard and bam! The new kid on the bat$hit block, dear worst-reader, at least for worst-writer, is Accelerationism. In worst-short, according to the #Interwebnets, it is thus:

Accelerationism is a range of Marxist and reactionary ideas in critical and social theory that propose that social processes, such as capitalist growth and technological change, should be drastically intensified to destabilize systems to create further radical social change referred to as “acceleration”. -Source: see wiki link below

According to my worst-research, Accelerationism has been around a while but perhaps not as long as, say, The Illuminati. Ha. Ha. Ha. With that in worst-mind, and with such a comparison, it’s easy for worst-writer to categorise this new faith/belief/ideology as not only bat$hit but right-wing. If the above wiki quote doesn’t sound bat$hit enough or is a bit misleading, allow worst-writer to worst-illuminate.

Accelerationism, in short, is the idear that bat$hitters, as mentioned throughout this worst-post, in order to marginalise those who would question the legitimacy or merit of wealth, can only be controlled or subjugated by increasing social and political pressures that serve the wealthy. Now. That may or mayn’t sound contradictory because Marx is also mentioned as a proponent of Accelerationism. But. The reason it sounds contradictory to worst-writer is because many of those who attach themselves to Accelerationism obviously have no idear who/what Marx is–or they’ve found yet another new way to re/un/dis/label him–as has been the case for the last century or so. These people have all been reared in a world where political and social issues rely on propaganda as opposed to any understanding of history. If you read the wiki article (link below) it is clearly assumed that there is a left and right form or Accelerationism. Of course. The left form is Marxist. For worst-writer this connection is no different than both-sideism. In worst-short, IMHO, Marx and Accelerationism would be better connected if one understands the concept of counter-revolution–which can only happen after a revolution. Where has there been a revolution–that would cause Accelerationism to reach its current popularity? Neo-liberalism ring a bell? Austerity? Economic turmoil? Political bat$hittery? The greed $hitshow? But I die-gress.

I’m gonna go out and on a limb here and make an assumption–just like one needs to do when considering the differences between Antifa and right-wingers as they have been labeled in my beloved & missed united mistakes of #Americant. Marx would have used Accelerationism for revolution, I’ll give it that. The bat$hitters of today, libertarians & co., right-wingers, etc., have attached themselves to Accelerationism as a form of counter-revolution. Which is a form of, who’d a thunk it, fascism. With that in worst-mind. I think. It begs this worst-question: what was/is the revolution being countered?

-Rant on.

-T

Links:

Sorry. We Serve Our Reichsbürger Rare!

Sorry. We Serve Our Reichsbürger Rare!

Anyone surprised z’Germans arrested a bunch of conspiracy loving right-wingers–who are not unlike #Americant right-wingers–without them having mobbed the Reichstag, which was supposedly part of the reason for the arrests? I worst-mean, dear worst-reader, how long after the #Americant right-wingers stormed The US Capitol did it take to finally bring some of those treasonous bastids to justice? One year? Two years? Still ongoing? Shouldn’t Mango Mussilini be tried for treason? Yeah. Whatever. And. That’s the thing. These German nutbags who actually think they can reinstall a monarchy or something were raided by z’German Polizei and… bam! Game over. Well. It’s game over until they get arrested again. I suppose. And so. In #Americant the department of justice continues to twiddle its thumbs while former prez pee-pee-hair continues his grift of THE LAND OF FREEDOM TO BE STUPID. So what does this say about z’Germany? Are they better at arresting treasonous bastids than #Americant is? WTF. #Nomatter.

Rant on.

-T

Link that motivated this worst-post: https://www.newyorker.com/news/q-and-a/the-failed-coup-plotters-yearning-for-the-german-reich

Battle Of The Worst-Writing Apps

Worst-Alternative title: iaWriter vs. Ulysses or the battle for writing minimalism

For worst-writer, dear worst-reader, it all started with some kinda tex-edit program or what today would be called a note app. Or maybe not. Yeah. Anywho. So it started. As in the late friggin 1980s. I’m worst-writing, of course, about writing on computer machines back when they were, indeed, glorified typewriters. Still are? #Nomatter. Seriously. They all sucked and still suck. On top of that. What happened to the idear of word-processing? But. Wait. I have to worst-admit. Now that I worst-think about it. I kinda dug WordPerfect back in the day. Again. #Nomatter. WordPerfect too was a bloated behemoth of lingering nothingness within the masterbatory-wings of windows-98 über-software krapp. Moving on.

The thing is, dear worst-reader, writing apps–software–are still struggling to not be krapp. With that in worst-mind. They’ll always be krapp. And so. No. Seriously. For most of my worst-writing life I’ve relied on apps that are, more or less, über-minimum when it comes to the $hitshow that is/should be worst-writing on a computer-machine. And so. Don’t you know. For. I can’t spell. I don’t even know what grammar is all about. And I really worst-hate the idear that when I’m writing something that something has to technically reside within the confines of the software I’m using. Hence. I haven’t written a thing in Microsoft Word in twenty years. The .doc file format sucks bat-balls. Although I like Apple’s Pages, for the same reason, I don’t use it. Then again. WTF! All worst-writer has ever wanted is to be able to worst-write and, get this, store what I worst-write in a folder on my computer–that is in a file format that isn’t dependent on any particular software. What a crazy thought, eh. Which brings me to… Scrivener.

There was a short stint where I thought Scrivener was the writing app I needed. Heck I even bought it. But you know what? I’ve never written anything in Scrivener that I’ve then published on my blog. Although my novels drifted in and out of Scrivener, I’ve since stopped using it. Everything on my blog is written in one of three apps. Apple’s Notes, TextEdit or iaWriter. Why iaWriter? For $hits & giggles, I guess. The thing is, I could use the Macs Note app to write a novel. Then again. While we’re on the subject of $hits&giggles, I gave Ulysses a test the other day. It’s always been on my radar but I haven’t used it cause of its subscription business model. Subscription business models suck. And guess what? I fiddled with it and immediately deleted it. Reason I dumped it? The same reason I dumped Scrivener–above and beyond the business model. It’s just too complicated. The thing is, with TextEdit, Notes or iaWriter, I don’t care about all the snappy software gimmicks that are supposed to make writing less worst. All I really want is some spell and grammar checking and whatever file/document/text I create I can then open in any other app or in any other operating system. Yeah. That’s the ticket. I don’t want files corrupted by dependencies from an app. Indeed. Worst-writer simply wants his worst-writing to be pure, uncorrupted, and accessible via whatever app or operating system I use. Yeah. That’s the ticket.

Rant on.

-T

Screenshot From Almost Hell

Alternative worst-title: iPad Air 5 pseudo-review number 3 or how I might lose my worst-mind

Was so looking forward to iPadOS 16.2 update, dear worst-reader. Reason? As noted here, worst-writer is kinda enamoured with the new iPad Air 5 (M1). In fact. I’m so impressed with this glass slate of tech I’m on the verge of ending my relationship with Macintosh. What is the thing that has made this such a decisive device for worst-moi, you ask. Unlike my trusty MacBook, a laptop a few years back I never thought could be replaced by a tablet, this thing can do just that. Well. It kinda can.

It’s the external monitor support that’s got me. Keep in worst-mind, I already have an external keyboard and mouse, which accompanies my MacBook when in clamshell mode. These two things are (kinda) required when connecting an external monitor to an iPad. Also. I worst-mean. Even though the speed of M1 iPad Air overwhelms—it is literally blazing fast when it comes to loading webpages and puts my 2017 i5 MacBook Air, with the faster 500gb HDD, to shame—its portability and the fact that I’m really coming around to iPadOS, is the real magic. But I’ve already worst-said most of that.

When I received the iPad about three weeks ago it immediately updated to iPad OS 16.1. I quickly learned that I’d have to wait for 16.2 to get the full benefits of what, from the specs indicated, sold me on this device, namely the iPad’s ability to drive a separate monitor. Even though the monitor mirroring it has with 16.1 was totally cool, I checked almost every day for the release of 16.2–because it was/is supposed to support full dual monitor connectivity. And it does. Now. I’ve always used my MacBooks with a separate monitor when at my desk. Which means there are a few things I’m gonna have to get used to with the iPad. That worst-said. I don’t fear the learning curve here. I’m impressed with 16.2’s monitor support and can only wonder at the reason it’s taken Apple so long to do this. This being providing real world applicability to a product that, for worst-writer, I never thought would/could replace Macintosh.

Stop the worst-presses.

Which brings me to the screenshot above. Turns out that Apple doesn’t quite have iPad OS 16.2 under control. Or is there a reason that when driving a separate monitor I cannot use airplay? WTF! Hopefully this is a bug and not a feature. That Apple would include such a warning (pic above) does seem to indicate something more than a bug, though. Or? Ok. Wow. Can you imagine, dear worst-reader, getting all productive and giddy with your new apple product and suddenly when you want to listen to some tunes to hold your mood(s) you get this message? Yeah. WTF–double.

Rant on.

-T

Don’t Panic

So. Like. This happened the other day. I’m in town approaching the bio-market and out of the blue sirens start going off all around me, even on my phone. At first I startled, thinking it was a bank robbery on account I was at that moment walking past a bank. Then I remembered. Oh yeah! It’s that new fangled wireless emergency alert test. Yea, that’s the ticket. It goes something like this. In Germany they still use those über-loud sirens every once-a-once that is supposed to wake up Das Volk to batten down the hatches, trouble is coming. But now, with these changing times, z’Germans are finally getting their $hit together as those old sirens need replacing. I guess. The new siren, which is supposed to provide a more efficient warning, is based on embedded sim technology known as CellBroadcast. And that’s fine and dandy. It worked on December 8, as promised (see pic above). But here’s worst-writer’s question: How is it that the German government is able to send a message to my phone like this? Obviously the cellular phone network, that all our phones are attached to, is being used for this. But. Again. Fine and dandy. It’s just… How did they get my phone number to send me this message? Ok. Wait. I’m not asking the right questions.

The thing is, dear worst-reader, they don’t need a phone number to send this message. Which says a lot about what this technology is all about. But we’ve known that already, right dear worst-reader? Our digital life is not a one-way street. Or is it a one-way street–just not in the direction we think it is? Wow. And so. Beyond this being kinda invasive, what other surprises await us. You know. What else can the government push our way?

Buckle up.

Rant on.

-T

Links: