Can’t remember the last time I saw an electoral map this blue. Was it like this during the Barry-O years? Perhaps when he was first elected but after his first midterm…? What about Bill Clinton? You know. The Clinton years were the years that that dusch-bag named Newt instilled and galvanised political hate, causing #Americant to slide on the underwear stain of Rush Limbaugh, so many gurgling as though the ice cream is free. Nomatter.
Even though I jumped ship over thirty-five years ago, there have always been moments of hope where I thought maybe my beloved & missed #Americant can get its greediness in check and finally rid the world of the turmoil that is white-trash politics. Again. No matter.
Been nursing the battery life of these two Apple Watches, alternating between the two each day so the other can recharge, for the last half year or so. But the inevitable has arrived. The battery capacity of both is so bad that I can’t rely on them at all. They either lose connection to my iPhone or the latency of both is so heavy that it makes using them too cumbersome, or I’m getting that red notification to put the watch back on the charger twice a day. On the left is the Apple Watch series 2, which, btw, is on its second battery. On the right is the Apple Watch series 6 still on its original battery. Obviously these are old devices and batteries die. But the cost of battery replacement is just silly, at least it is at an Apple Store. Don’t get me started on issues I’ve had for years with Apple’s blatant, absurd, obsequious product OBSOLETISM. So. Please. Dear wurst-reader. Heed this. Whenever Apple promotes its recycling efforts at whatever apple event, go ahead and laugh your arse off. The simple fact that Apple can’t make an out of date iMac so that it could become a second monitor for a newer Mac says everything about their recycling effort. And on that wurst-note, I must digress.
The Apple Watch 2 I’m hoping to keep as it has the stainless steel housing plus the crystal glass. I really dig it. I’ll eventually find an alternative battery replacement for it. Of course, even with a new battery the tech is so outdated that it’s still tough to use as a daily driver. The Apple Watch 2 can’t update to the latest Apple Watch OS. The 6 is the basic aluminium watch still on its first battery. I’ll probably give it to the person that buys my iPhone 16e, which I’m gonna sell after I get my wife’s hand-me-downs iPhone 16 Pro, which I then use to trade-in to replace my 16e. All in all, I’m good with Apple equipment that isn’t the highest spec or even the newest tech. So if any of this sounds like bitchin & moanin at high-level, it is, but more because of corporate abuse and not because of customer satisfaction. Or something like that.
I grew up with some of the best seafood in the world coming from Maryland and the Chesapeake Bay. But that was back in the 1970s and 80s. Boy do I miss blue crabs. Boy do I miss catching those blue crabs by the bushel and gorging myself on them all day. I also remember the oysters from the bay. An oyster that, in my wurst-opinion, might have been one of the best tasting in the world due to the Bays unique brackish waters. It’s been many years since I’ve enjoyed oysters from the Chesapeake and I’ve read that for the past many years they are scarce, expensive, poisoned, etc., due, obviously, to over fishing–the Bay’s plague, don’t you know. That said, every now and then, a couple times a year, I go the Atlantic coast of France and suddenly the world, the universe, the ground below my feet… is whole again. There’s nothing like sitting at a seafood restaurant in France, overlooking oyster beds galore, and having a slurp.
In order to get there we gotta drive through Europe first. And so. Germany > France > Spain. We’re planning five days to get to the port in Spain, with a definite stop here or there for oysters in France, don’t you know. Then a quick ferry ride across the straight of Gibraltar and the North African tour begins. We’re gonna tour Morocco for about three weeks with a group that all have the same RV. We’ll be 4x4ing around Atlas, the Sahara and, of course, visitingvarious cities. And to think that one of the only things I want to see is the film set where Star Wars was made. May the force… Can’t wait.
Let’s go there for a moment, shall, dear wurst-reader. Here’s something I’ve been thinking about of late. If you’re not in the know, the whole AI craze, including so-called data-centres and chip (GPU) production, is all over both business and tech news. At least it is all over the news I consume. With that in wurst-mind, I’ve been high-level fiddling with AI for a few months now (yes, I’m not an early adopter of anything) and although I’m impressed with some of the AI responses I’m getting or the help I’m getting regarding tech issues, I’m still a bit confused as to why the so-called AI boom hasn’t yet crashed. Shouldn’t it have crashed by now? I mean. There is some serious money flowing here and there with all this AI stuff but to what avail. I worked in the Dotcom boom through the mid to late 90s. I am fully aware of how a boom ends. But this…? Obviously AI is happening. Is it happening at the scale of… Skynet? Should we be afeared of the crash or perhaps no crash? Nomatter.
Tinkering with Claude, I recently asked it a question. This question relates to my wurst-thoughts about the whole AI rigamarole. Specifically, if it’s gonna crash, who’s gonna pay? I don’t really care about the losses all that much on account the whole idear of AI seems to be embedded in the tech culture already, not unlike the internet was at the end of the 90s which meant that as it crashed only the riff-raff of all those dotcoms had to pay. I wurst-guess. Anywho.
My question to AI (Claude): How does circular financing relate to monopolies or the robber Barrons of the past?
AI response:
Circular financing and monopoly are separate things, but critics draw a few connections between them. How well the Gilded Age analogy holds is disputed.
The case that the analogy fits
The “money trust.” Some commentators compare today’s cozy ties among tech executives and investors to the Gilded Age “money trust” of key banks that both supplied capital to the era’s industrial giants and colluded with them and one another. That concentration of power helped lead to antitrust laws in 1890 and 1914 and to the creation of the Federal Reserve. (The Asset)
Barriers to entry. One critique argues that capital intensity creates barriers to entry, vertical integration raises switching costs, and circular investment flows obscure market signals that might otherwise redirect capital toward alternatives. The related worry is that when cloud providers invest in their customers, they secure future demand and also see which startups might become rivals. (DEV Community)
Regulatory attention. U.S. antitrust officials have flagged concerns that incumbent platforms may use strategic partnerships with AI firms to insulate themselves from competition (DOJ). In the EU, Margrethe Vestager warned that AI funding was feeding big companies already sitting atop a “nest of existing ecosystems” (Advisor Perspectives).
Rhetorical echoes. Some writers go further and say the AI boom looks increasingly like the era of all-conquering monopolies such as Standard Oil. (Advisor Perspectives)
The case that it doesn’t
Competition looks real. Defenders point to a market with several frontier labs. Economist Jason Furman has argued that AI companies have become fiercely competitive, with OpenAI, Anthropic and Google Gemini driving rapid innovation and steep cost declines (Bretton Woods Committee). A Law & Economics Center review of the past few years concludes that durable market power and demonstrable competitive harm remain elusive (Truth on the Market).
It isn’t a natural monopoly. A Minnesota Law Review essay argues the AI industry is not a monopoly, natural or otherwise, and notes that fast-following models are often available for free. It even suggests a bit of market power may help innovation. (Minnesota Law Review)
Temporary leads. Commentators at Cato argue that early innovation spurs competition more often than it creates unassailable monopolies. (National Review)
What the two sides agree on
Circular financing isn’t illegal, and it isn’t the same as monopoly. The more specific worry is about its financial fragility. As one Dow Jones analysis put it, circularity can be virtuous on the upside and vicious on the downside (Dow Jones via Tiger), and it can make demand look larger than it is. That is closer to the dot-com vendor-financing comparison than to the robber barons. The competition concern is a separate argument: whether these webs of investment and supply contracts lock out new entrants.
Differences from the original robber barons
The robber barons operated without a national income tax, with far weaker unions, no Federal Trade Commission and no government-run social safety programs (Bowen Inc.). Today’s players face active regulators. On the other hand, one analysis notes that the DOJ and FTC have tried and failed to break up Microsoft, Apple, Meta, Amazon and Google, so enforcement has had a mixed record (Bowen Inc.).
A note on perspective
This piece was drafted with Claude, which is made by Anthropic. Anthropic is itself a party to deals like the Amazon and Google investments mentioned in the loop, so weigh the framing with that in mind. Both sides above are presented as their defenders would present them. Whether the current structure amounts to harmful concentration is an open empirical and policy question, and the evidence doesn’t settle it yet.
Love it when Brits nail it. James O’Brien really knows how to do it. Been listening to him here and there for a couple years now. Always in the back of my mind programs like this remind me of when there was public broadcasting in my beloved & missed united mistakes of #Americant. It even reminds me of when broadcasting in general wasn’t simply owned by the here or there next nepo baby. Yeah. Believe it or not, there was a time when #Americant had some pretty descent broadcasting. Nomatter.
The thing is, I’ve never been to the Cheese Cake Factory. Is it any good? I only know about it because I watched The Big Bang Theory religiously. Heck, I thought the Cheese Cake Factory was fictional until someone told me it actually existed. So when Barry-O made this joke I couldn’t help but go…
Sometimes it takes me a while to pay attention to things. Elon is one of those things. I haven’t taken the man seriously for years now. Everytime he’s in the newz I let it go by me at first and I’ll only get back to whatever it was if there’s something else out there making it or him worth my while. That’s exactly what happened with the infantilism that can only be embodied by the world’s first trillionaire. I mean. Get this. I could have bought numerous Teslas in the last ten years. Ok. I’m bragging. I coudln’t have bought “numerous”. But I could have bought… two? (Because I bought two difference petrol cars in that time.) Anywho. The last product I tried from Elon was Starlink. Boy did I send that thing back to get a refund within thirty days. Nomatter.
When Elon’s flying car first appeared I blew it off. It was easy to see that Elon’s getting pretty desperate with such a stunt–even if one doesn’t bother to check if it’s real or not. So after letting the rigamarole settle, I finally gave the flying car of my beloved and missed #Americant’s perhaps final immigrant, a look. Am I impressed? Well…
What is, dear wurst-reader, the best way to describe what #Americant has become of late, specially but not only, as related to post Ronald Dip$hit Reagan’s bat$hit conservatism? Nothing? How bought this: Performance-ism. In other wurst-words. Most of the crazy coming out of the MAGA world wouldn’t be where it is currently if it weren’t for performing, performance, perform-ism. They all do it, don’t you know. It all started, if you will, especially in the hardcare MAGA cult, with WWE. It has now left the building, gone out and about, taking off its wrastling tights, seeped its way into the mainstream…. The MAGA cultists and those beside them incapable of knowing any better, gulp this $hit up–it is what has moulded Elon as he panics over every second of his life watching the value of his stocks. And so…
This “car” stunt has to be one of the stupidist things I have ever seen. The only question remaining: what level of stupid will they take it to next?
Well, what do you know… I’m often skeptical, considering current political realities, if my vote is not only counted but if it counts. I vote in MD, don’t you know. A very gerrymandered state. Sometimes I’ve even flown home to vote. It’s been thirty-five years living abroad, don’t you know. Yet. Still a citizen. Still missing my beloved Chesapeake. And so. A vote has never meant more than now—all things considered. For those wanting to know what I vote, if it’s not obvious, heed this: I enjoyed reading Karl Marx’s The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Napoleon.
It was clear early on that some modifications and add-ons would be necessary for our RV. And isn’t that the case with all these vehicles? I actually drove her for about year on the original Mercedes suspension. Small roads, low speeds was fine with it. But once you got on a long haul highway or off-road, things were often sketchy. Sorry if the pics here don’t do it justice, but we added four new shocks and two (in the rear) air-dampers. Along with the air-dampers, I had them include an air pump where I could not only work the air-dampers up and down but I can also control and adjust wheel pressure. The air compressor is up front, under the hood/bonnet.
The skid plate is for protecting both the grey water and the fresh water tanks. The saying goes, with this vehicle, that if you don’t invest in extra support for these tanks, the chances of losing one or both increases with mileage, especially if you do a lot of off-roading. In fact, the manufacturer states through out the vehicle manual that one is only supposed to drive with no more that twenty litres of fresh water. Now if that ain’t a kinda … WOW, I don’t know what it is. Good thing we don’t have to worry about that anymore. (Fingers crossed!)
Recently I also added some extra storage trickery in the garage (the two vertical plates on the back wall). This should help us deal with issues regarding not only storage but organising everything in the garage. Between two e-bikes and whatnot it’s been pretty chaotic back there so far. Since I just installed the plates, this winter is a good chance to get to know some new storage capability as we won’t be using our e-bikes much anyway, which have their own connecting harness/mount between the two vertical plates. More to come on that.
Loved this modern version of the ultimate hippy van. Bought it in 2022 hopping on the camper craze caused by Covid. Drove it just over eighty thousand kilometres in three years. Never had I seen so much of rural Europe having worked in most major cities up till then. Ultimately its size and capacity couldn’t keep up with our need to travel more.
This is my Hymer ML-T 570 Crossover. It’s built on a Mercedes Benz Sprinter van chassis, including AWD. FYI, AWD is a bit different here in Europe as 4×4 is always active and it’s not necessary to engage, for example, a differential.
There are things that remind me of home and then there’s my coffee. In this case, I think I’ve got both. First. This coffee is really good. And I can’t remember ever having its equal in my beloved and missed #Americant where I’d prefer eating crabs at a bustling crab house. Then again, I only got into coffee once I moved to #Eurowasteland. Second. The cup says it all, even though I’m not from Baltimore. But I am from Maryland, which is quite enough. As far as the coffee machine goes, it’s nice, but I wouldn’t buy it again. I’ve had it going on two years and I quickly became bored of the whole technique of always making the best “shot”. Between the beans, the grinding, the puck-fill and and and… Yeah. Boring.
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.
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?
How was the gravity problem solved?
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.
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.
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.
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?
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.)
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.
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.
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.
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.
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?
