21st Century Stupidity

I once dated a girl that was a hypochondriac and she owned a medical dictionary. The dictionary was at least 10 years old at the time and maybe more and how up to date is was is questionable but even that isn’t completely relevant to the point I am making. Here is the point.  A medical dictionary lists the name of a disease the cause(s) and the symptoms. It can be a handy reference but unless you are a trained Medical Doctor or other medical professional you should not even pretend to use it to diagnose someone especially not yourself. Do you know how many diseases list one of the symptoms as “congestion”, “fever”, or “upset stomach”? It is half of the fucking dictionary. Do you have a fever? Well flit to any page at random and that will be a symptom of at least one if the diseases listed, and sometimes all of them. Some diseases have the exact same symptoms but different causes and very different outcomes. Yes I understand that your lymph nodes are swollen, you have a headache and a fever but you do not have the Bubonic Plague you have the Flu. Have you been coughing all day? No you don’t have Tuberculosis is just the dust from the roadwork outside your office building.

Why have I brought this all up? Because motherfuckers are getting dumber and dumber by the minute, diagnosing themselves with more and more afflictions they do not have and in some cases don’t actually exist. Yes WebMD might be able to help you understand what a disease is and maybe convince you to see a bloody physician but it isn’t there for you to diagnose yourself and they fucking tell you that morons.

Why am I yelling about this? Well today I saw an article where some asshat claimed they had PTSD from an election that happened in 2008! Yes not only did this person get PTSD from an election they were still suffering from it almost 8 years later. They might have mental problems but PTSD is not it. And if that isn’t crazy enough half the fucking planet now has ADHD, Autism and thinks they are trapped in the wrong body. I’m really a woman, I’m really a horse, I’m really a dragon, I’m a vampire. No, no you are not. You are a confused kid trying to get attention or tying out for the Oppression Olympics and you have been doing it for so long you forgot how it all started. Shitty parents, praise without accomplishment everyone gets a trophy bullshit, narcissism, the complete disregard for reason and accountability and everything on Tumblr. It is an entire generation acting like rich 12-year-old girls with daddy issues only they are 27 and male! Fuck some of these idiots are in their 30’s or older. It is like Pajama Boy morphed into an even more annoying pile of first world problem crybaby shit. Fuck you the funny feeling you are having right now isn’t PTSD it’s the small part of your brain that hasn’t completely given up trying to tell the rest of you I’m right and getting punched in the face by the rotting cesspit you have turned the rest of your mind into. You claim you got PTSD from someone disagreeing with you on Twitter while millions are being enslaved, raped and murdered around the world. You have gone so far beyond First World Problems that we need to think up a new name for it. You have created a new religion of stupid. A religion without grace or set theology but a million gods who are supposed to worship at the alter of the Great and Special Snowflake that is You. This twisted faith, a faith of the damned are required to worship all the strange inanities and feeling in the vast and rotting abyss that has replaced your brains or face the unyielding wrath of the thousands screaming Special Snowflakes as all else is lies and heresy. You are a howling tsunami of lunatics. You have invented religions too silly even for the type of people that join suicide cults.

I know why some of you are so angry. Because deep down you know it’s all bullshit but you can’t admit it. You have created this vast and intricate web of lies and deities and entrenched yourself so deeply into it that to give up now would be betraying everything you have created about yourself. You can’t grow up and you can’t stop because once you admit you may have been wrong about one thing you may have to admit you are wrong about other things, maybe even everything and then you will not be just the heretic you rage against you will be the apostate. You are weak as you have never learned true suffering or how to be strong. You have an ego but no accomplishments, self esteem with no true sense of self worth, you are a god unto yourself but only the pawn in a raging mob self proclaimed deities in a never ending holy war no one controls or understands. It is a holy war that cannot be won since its goals are nebulous at the best of times, its target are constantly changing subject to the whims of whatever voice can shout loudest in the mob at any given second claiming the papacy of the cause whatever it might be this minute as its holy commandments and scripture never mean the same thing twice. If that isn’t a good enough explanation of it what is going on I’ll give you a better one.

You are all so all the way down into the rabbit hole of ideological bullshit that your head is so far up rabbits ass you are looking at the back of his teeth and calling the his cavities racists, sexists, misogynists and whatever other “ists” you made up today.

I hate it here…

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Horrible Advice From Your Uncle Drunken Llama

Fat, drunk and stupid is no way to live your life, however it is much more entertaining.

Always have several fake names and extra cell phones that way you never have to give out the real ones.  Just make sure you don’t mix them up.

Never tell anyone you love them if they know your real name or where you live.

Never marry anyone who would have sex with you on the first date.  However you should try to get a couple more dates just for the fun of it.

Remember the proper etiquette in a strip club is whoever correctly guesses what drug the stripper is on gets the lap dance.

Speaking of strip clubs if you are in a private room for a lap dance and the stripper tells you that for an extra $300 you can put it anywhere, you can, but you shouldn’t.

Any woman that you just met at a bar that offers to buy you tequila shots will probably have sex with you that night.

When drinking with a woman always drink twice as much as she does that way you can always say later that she took advantage of you. *

If you shake more than twice you’re playing with it and if you don’t a bit will dribble down your leg.  It’s your call.

No matter how cracked and dry your skin is – even if it’s so obvious you can see it from space – and you are a man the lady behind the counter still thinks you are buying lotion to masturbate with.  The only way to counter this is to buy tampons and some milk that way they think you were sent on an errand by your wife or girlfriend.

Always treat people with dignity and respect, unless they don’t deserve it, then don’t, unless they pay you and you need to keep that job.

If you’re over the age of 18 and don’t own at least one good suit you are failing at life.  If you are over 30 and only own one good suit you are still failing.

Always remember to do your research before telling people you are a fighter pilot to impress people.  The Navy doesn’t use F-14′s anymore, has never used F-15′s and a B-52 isn’t a fighter so get your facts strait or you will look like an ass.  No matter how dense most of the people at the party are someone will know and they will call you on it as they should.

No matter how big you think you are she’s had better so stop worrying about it and just be happy some chick likes you.

Speaking of size; a very large cock is only impressive in porno.  In the real word it is usually uncomfortable at best and painful at worst.  Yeah, size matters but it’s more of a ratio between the smallest that works and the largest that works.

Getting 4 girls numbers at the same bar in one night always sounds cool and you can brag about it with your friends.  The problem is you were at a bar all night and trying to remember who was who and what you talked about is next to impossible unless you were dead sober and have a very good memory.  Therefor calling any of them can be risky.  Basically getting more than one number is pointless since there is a very small chance you will call any one them and if you do there is a large chance you will fuck it up.  But have fun and go for it.

Your ability to make a bong out of anything does not impress anyone worth impressing.  Also your ability to take large amounts of any drug without getting that fucked up also does not impress anyone worth impressing.**

Hypocrisy isn’t saying one thing and doing another, that’s screwing up.  Hypocrisy is saying people shouldn’t do something but saying  ”it’s OK when I do it”.

If you are visiting foreign countries and feel the need to lie about what country you are from you either shouldn’t be in that country or you are a little pussy bitch and your homeland would be better off if you didn’t come back.***

It’s rude to ask someone why they don’t have a boyfriend or girlfriend and never try to set them up with anyone you know.  If they aren’t good enough to even date one of you least favorite acquaintances just don’t bring up the subject.  The question is fine if you are only tying to find out what they like and dislike so you can help otherwise you’re just asking someone to bare their soul so you can judge, quietly.  Oh so quietly…

Just because Ideology can be dangerous doesn’t mean it will.  Just remember you need to continue to question and prove to yourself that it’s correct.  It’s not as easy as it sounds but if you aren’t even trying you have a very big problem.

Never fish for compliments; it’s tacky and shows a lack of class.

If you’re not proud of yourself it’s your fault.  but if you’re proud of yourself you better be able to prove why you should be.  Prove, not justify.  People can justify anything with the right amount of bullshit.

On that note.   You should never have to justify your actions they should be able to speak for themselves.

Intentions mean nothing if you make it worse.

Air travel always sucks so never pay too much for it and never get on an air line that wont let you walk onto the plane with an open beer in your hand.  Seriously you are always going to be late, it will always be cramped and they are going to lose your luggage but as long as it isn’t a Chinese air line or Delta and the flight attendants don’t give a crap that you walked onto the plane with your own six pack it will be the best you are going to get out of air travel.

Really fuck Delta.

When you wake up and don’t know where you are always make sure you still have your wallet and your gun.  If you don’t have either you fucked up since you should always keep both hidden in  place people won’t check when they try to rob your passed out ass.

If  your collage major has “Studies” at the end of it, it’s worthless.  People don’t major in Physics Studies, Electrical Engineering Studies, History Studies or Medicine Studies.  Hell they don’t even major in Philosophy Studies and a major in Philosophy is pretty much useless.  All a major in a “Studies” does if tell the rest of the world not only do you have no marketable skills any employer would ever need but you are stupid enough to spend a shit-load of money acquiering those lack of marketable skills.  You can train a moron that is willing to work hard to do a lot of things but you can’t train an idiot with a sense of entitlement and  bullshit college degree to do anything.

Love is like a fine wine.  It’s expensive, it must be aged carefully and sipped slowly.  It will also never last.

I’m joking unlike love a good wine exists and it’s much easier to get your hands on another decent bottle.

Fair fights only exist in boxing and movies.

 

*  This will probably not hold up in court since double standards are fun.

** Yes this is from a llama that spends his free time chugging scotch and lighting hippies on fire.  Fuck off.

*** Exceptions can be made for people that have to travel for work or charity reasons and need to keep a low profile.

So How Old Does A Baby Have To Be Before It’s Infanticide And Not An Abortion?

In Alberta Canada a woman was given a suspended sentence for killing her newborn child.  The woman was 19 had a child in secret and strangled the baby with a pair of underwear and tossed the body into a neighbor’s yard and  got a suspended 3 year sentence for it meaning she doesn’t have to serve jail time unless she screws up again like killing another kid.  I guess that would give her a good 6 years for killing two kids.

The judge in the case was quoted saying:

“While many Canadians undoubtedly view abortion as a less than ideal solution to unprotected sex and unwanted pregnancy, they generally understand, accept and sympathize with the onerous demands pregnancy and childbirth exact from mothers, especially mothers without support,” she writes… “Naturally, Canadians are grieved by an infant’s death, especially at the hands of the infant’s mother, but Canadians also grieve for the mother.”

Really?  you are grieving for the mother who murdered her child?  This isn’t even about abortion the kid was already born.  Mark Steyn called it a Fourth Trimester Abortion to shock people into understanding the implications of this ruling.  The thing is, is that this person (if you want to call them that) was an adult and in Canada abortion is legal so they could have had an abortion at any time.  Hell even if she wasn’t an adult last time I checked you can get an abortion in Canada when you are underage and they can’t inform the parents.

there are a lot of problems with this and the first is this really has nothing to do with abortion.  No matter what your view of abortion is this wasn’t one and had nothing to do with it so the fact that it is brought up by the judge as part of the defense of the accused is ludicrous.  If the judge was honest they would have said “eugenics should be legal so I’m going to give this woman a bullshit sentence since I can’t get away with giving her a medal and an iPad”.  The kid was already born, it’s not an abortion.  Another thing the judge did was bringing up how hard it is for someone to raise a kid by themselves as part of the defense of her bullshit sentence.  The woman lived at home and was already supported by her parents so it’s not like she didn’t have a home, or have to worry about paying the rent or anything since someone was already doing it for her.  She made the choice to have sex, then she made the choice to murder her own child.  She could have easily gone to an abortion clinic in Canada and gotten rid of the child (for free, if Canada’s health care is all free and shit) but instead she waited to have the child and then strangled it with some underwear and tossed the corpse into someones yard.  No one in a post-industrial country suffers that much where killing their child is excusable in any way especially one with the welfare state Canada has.

It only gets more fucked up:

“Next week, the court will hear arguments on a remaining issue from Effert’s long legal battle: the 16 days of jail time she still must serve for throwing her baby’s body over the fence.

Her lawyer, Peter Royal, asked the court to do away with the penalty or allow her to serve the time on weekends. It was “unjust” and “almost mean to incarcerate her” at this point, he argued.”

Really 16 days in jail for tossing a dead body into someone else’s yard and that is “unjust” and “almost mean” to put her in jail for that?  OK, you have a point on one of those.  It is unjust to only throw someone in jail for 16 days after murdering a child and tossing the body into the neighbors yard.  Hell tossing a dead baby (or any dead person) into the neighbors yard should be a lot longer of a prison sentence that 16 days.  even if you just found a corpse and tossed it into someone’s yard for shits-n-giggles you should at least do a couple years in jail and if you killed the baby in the first place since that should be an automatic trip to the electric chair.

Are there any sane people left in Canada?

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I hate it here…

Add Your Own Joke Day

Sometimes jokes write themselves, sometimes you don’t need to write a joke because nothing you can say is funnier that what was already said seriously.  In this case I’m asking for participation in helping me make jokes because I would like to see how many original ones we can get.

The article is from the Palm Beach Post and titled; FEMA’s use of the term “federal family” for government expands under Obama. *

Here is a nice quote:

“Under the direction of President Obama and Secretary Janet Napolitano, the entire federal family is leaning forward to support our state, tribal and territorial partners along the East Coast,” a FEMA news release declared Friday as Irene churned toward landfall.

OK people here is the challenge.  I need jokes but since the “Big Brother” joke is just so easy that it doesn’t need to be said any joke referencing 1984 has to be very original and not use the term “Big Brother”.  Other than that go for it with either a joke off of the idea of a “federal Family’ or go for a Fark type joke with a fake title to this article or an article talking about a “Federal Family” or a fake book about it.

I’ll start off and you finish off in the comments section.

Joke 1:   So if the government is a family and they have congress does that mean they’re all inbreed?

Joke 2:  Why is my father always taking my allowance to give to my lazy brother?

Joke 3:  Are we adopting people illegally or is it kidnaping?

OK, it’s your turn have fun with it.

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* I’m almost positive I’m screwing up like 10 rules for proper writing here so it’s normal for this internet skidmark.

People Want Higher Taxes. For You, Not them.

So the other day* Obama claimed the other day the 80% of America wanted higher taxes?  Um, right.  OK lets pretend this is true.  How many of those people want higher taxes for themselves?  I’m going to go with a lot less than 80%, there are people out there that want higher taxes but for other people or on things they don’t use but I doubt anywhere close to 80% that Obama claims want higher taxes for themselves (maybe 3%).  It’s always easy to get support for taxing the crap out of someone else, the rich (whatever someone’s personal idea of who is rich), corporations and smokers are always easy targets but tell people that you are going to make say the 50% of the public that doesn’t pay income tax or try to tax a union members benefits package and suddenly the idea of taxes is a horrible thing and you are a horrible person for mentioning it.  See almost no one wants to pay higher taxes since everyone wants to keep as much of their money as they can but there are a lot of people out there that have no problem with making other people pay higher taxes because really “fuck them I want my benefits but don’t really want to pay for it”.  See people look at all the crap the government gives away and say “Hey free shit gimme, gimme, gimme” and either don’t know that nothing is or can be free or frankly don’t care because they honestly believe they shouldn’t have to work for or take care of themselves, and that’s just sad.  They say the rich are greedy and that might be true but people are greedy when they’re poor too so it’s really just hypocrisy and class warfare rather than a real statement of some great truth.  You want truth.  People can be greedy. there is your truth.  No qualifiers just that one sentence.  People can also be nice, heroic, cowardly, deceitful, attractive, ugly, loving, hateful and short.  Once again it’s truth because people can be all of those and some people can be many of those together since people can be contradictory.  It’s not about how much money you have that makes you something it’s about what you do with your life.  Yes life can be easier if you have money but even money doesn’t always make life easy but that is another rant.

There are a lot of people out there that think the government is a charity organization and expect people (usually other people) to pay for that.  That’s wrong the government isn’t a charity organization and forcing other people to pay for you pet projects or your causes isn’t charity.  What people who want higher taxes really want is to redistribute other people wealth, and I really do mean other people’s since if they really wanted more money to go to this or that they could take out their checkbook and hold off on that new Blu-Ray player or iPad.   But no we don’t want that we want other people to pay, hell a lot of people as I already said don’t even want to pay for their own stuff and want to make other do it, that’s why you have people calling cell phones, vacations and internet access civil rights that the government should pay for (or in other words taxes payers).

 

I know Obama once said he actually believes his own bullshit but he doesn’t really believe this “80% of people want higher taxes” bullshit does he?  I might buy it if he had said 45% of the US populations want’s higher taxes and 97% of those people want higher taxes for other people.  Even if somehow this 80% number was true what are the reasons for this number?  Remember kids statistics can lie if you don’t know the reason(s) behind the numbers.

 

I’ll say it like this if you want higher taxes for other people but not yourself, fuck you.  If you want higher taxes for other people and don’t pay income tax at all, fuck yourself twice.

 

 

*FYI usually when I say “the other day” it means anywhere from a week to 3 years ago just in case anyone wanted to complain this was from a couple of months ago.  That and I started this rant then but didn’t get back to it till now.

 

 

 

I hate it here…

Oh My God Susan Feinberg Is Angry With You For Doing Something That Has Nothing To Do With Something Else, Run For The Hills!!!! Wait… Who The Hell Is Susan And Why Should I care?

 

 

“Rep. Paul Ryan (R-WI), a leading advocate of shrinking entitlement spending and the architect of the plan to privatize Medicare, spent Wednesday evening sipping $350 wine with two like-minded conservative economists at the swanky Capitol Hill eatery Bistro Bis.” 

 

Um, so someone went to dinner with some other people he knows.  This is news because it’s not like this doesn’t happen all the fucking time or anything so why is this news?

 

“Susan Feinberg, an associate business professor at Rutgers, was at Bistro Bis celebrating her birthday with her husband that night. When she saw the label on the bottle of Jayer-Gilles 2004 Echezeaux Grand Cru Ryan’s table had ordered, she quickly looked it up on the wine list and saw that it sold for an eye-popping $350, the most expensive wine in the house along with one other with the same pricetag.”

 

So some people who have money got something expensive at a restaurant?  Still why is this news?

 

“Feinberg, an economist by training, was even more appalled when the table ordered a second bottle. She quickly did the math and figured out that the $700 in wine the trio consumed over the course of 90 minutes amounted to more than the entire weekly income of a couple making minimum wage.

 

“We were just stunned,” said Feinberg, who e-mailed TPM about her encounter later the same evening. “I was an economist so I started doing the envelope calculations and quickly figured out that those two bottles of wine was more than two-income working family making minimum wage earned in a week.”

Oh my god rich people ordering something that poor people can’t afford!!!  Wait still why is that news?

 

“She was outraged that Ryan was consuming hundreds of dollars in wine while Congress was in the midst of intense debates over whether to cut seniors’ safety net, and she didn’t know whether Ryan or his companions was going to pay for the wine and whether the two men were lobbyists. She snapped a few shots with her cell phone to record the wine purchase.”

 

Oh, I know because someone has a political agenda that’s why.   My question was if Mrs.  Feinberg is so annoyed by rich people spending money at an expensive restaurant why the hell was she at the same place?  I bet even if she didn’t get that expensive bottle of wine her meal was a lot more than a person making minimum wage could afford for a night out.    OK leaving all that aside for the moment was the meal paid for by the taxpayers?  Wait, no it wasn’t so why should you care?  Now don’t give me the bullshit about since he is in Congress he gets paid by the taxpayers so it is the public’s money because it isn’t and while I do think they get paid too much once we give it to them it’s theirs to do with as they like.  Even pay too much for booze, something Paul Ryan even admitted was too expensive and since he didn’t know the price at the time would not have done had he known.  Yeah, like you’ve never done that.

 

Now back to Mrs. Feinberg.  You are an economics professor and angry about people who have money spending it during a recession, are you insane?  I might not be some obnoxious economics professor (full disclosure; I studied music before I switched to history and political science) but last time I checked in the type of economy we have that people spending money helps the economy rather than hurts it and in a recession/depression/whatever the fuck this is most people are not spending enough money to get us out of this shit so every little bit helps.  I can honestly say that you should never take an economics class (or probably any class) with Mrs. Feinberg.

 

I understand the lobbyist thing but let’s not get into a selective outrage debate since its par for the course in D.C. and it’s not like any side is less guilty. Plus they weren’t lobbyist and Mrs. Feinberg didn’t know who they were she just assumed they were lobbyists (as in she decided to get angry with people she knew nothing about in a situation she knew nothing about AKA she fucked up).  So what is the real issue here?  The real issue is that “she was outraged that Ryan was consuming hundreds of dollars in wine while Congress was in the midst of intense debates over whether to cut seniors’ safety net”.  Let me explain something to you.  A person, with money, buying expensive hooch (while silly) has nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing with the fact that the U.S. government is fucking broke and bleeding money every fucking second and some people in the government are trying to find way to spend less money the government doesn’t have.  Remember Mrs. Feinberg is an economics professor, you know the people who should know that if you don’t have any money and if you are in trillions of dollars of debt and have no way of paying it off you might want to look at your finances and start cutting your expenses.  Let me explain some things to you.  There is nothing, and I mean nothing in the Constitution that requires or ever pretends to suggest the government provide anyone with medical care or a retirement fund.  Hell half of the Constitution is telling the government what it can’t do.  So when the government spends too much money and is broke (like now)  we can spend what money we have on the things specifically mentioned in the Constitution (such as national defense) and start spending less money on things not mentioned (and depending on your viewpoint on the subject possibly unconstitutional) such as Social Security (the world’s only legal ponzi scheme) and Medicare/Medicaid or we can let the government dig an even deeper hole until even Greece and Zimbabwe are laughing at us.  Yes we can raise taxes but there is a thing you might have heard about called diminishing returns, the Laffer curve, and the fact that only 50% of the public is required to pay income tax.  As an economics professor Mrs. Feinberg should have heard all of this someplace.  She should also have heard of Keynesian economics something from this guy John Maynard Keynes all the liberals love but don’t understand what he really meant.  Keynes believed to get out of a depression you did need government intervention and deficit spending however the deficit spending was supposed to be short term and not continuous as how government currently works and during this period it was supposed to be augmented with tax cuts so people had more money to spend in order to jumpstart the economy.  Currently the people who use the Keynes model go for tax increases and continuous deficit spending so are therefore bastardizing Keynesian economics into something Keynes never intended and – while I have no proof of this since we were never friends and he’s dead – would reject as stupid and dangerous.  As an economics professor Mrs. Feinberg should know all of this.  Apparently she doesn’t, so I say again never take a class she teaches.

 

Let’s keep going with this evening out…

 

“After ending their meal and paying the check, Feinberg decided to give Ryan a piece of her mind. She approached the table and asked Ryan “how he could live with himself” sipping expensive wine while advocating for cuts to programs for seniors and the poor. Some verbal jousting between Feinberg and the other two men ensued. One of the two men said he had ordered the wine, was drinking it and paying for it. In hearing how much the wine cost, Ryan said only: “Is that how much it was?”

 

I hate it when people I don’t know feel the need to preach to me in public, or to put it another way if, I am having dinner/playing darts/drinking with friends/doing anything and I am not bothering you (as in talking to you or actually doing something to you) I hate it when people feel the need to get in my face and start lecturing me on anything.  I don’t do it to other people because it’s rude.  Hell, I have a friend and half of what we do is get into political debates (or well, we will debate anything but usually politics, comic books or anime, we are nerds)  and if someone butts in no matter what side they are for one of us will play devil’s and we will both go after them simply because you have annoyed us buy butting in so we will go after you till you leave us alone.  We don’t always do this, if the person butts in but has something relevant to say, isn’t an ass about it and has something to add to the conversation we will let them into the debate and new friends can be made.  However attacking people you don’t know (yes Mr. Ryan is a public figure but the other people were not and you don’t know him you know of him, there is a difference) and don’t know you, and yes in this situation it was an attack you are just being rude and annoying.  I don’t confront celebrities on the street to tell them I thought their last movie/album sucked and if I saw a politician on the street or in a restaurant I didn’t like I would let them eat their fucking dinner since if they don’t agree with me yelling at them only makes my side of the argument look bad.  Even if I liked the guy I probably wouldn’t even bother talking to them because maybe they just want to be left alone with some friends and relax.  Now if the guy sat down at the bar next to me I might talk to them but talking (not attacking) someone sitting next to you at a bar is common and how friends are made even with people you don’t always agree with.  Harassing people eating dinner or any meal for that matter is one of the rudest and most annoying things you can do right after lighting someone on fire above bringing a crying baby into a movie theater.

 

More bullshit from Mrs. Feinberg…

 

“It was my birthday, and I’d had half a bottle of great wine with dinner,” she wrote in an e-mail to TPM. “I wasn’t drunk, but I was certainly emboldened to speak my mind.”

 

OK, I will admit half a bottle of wine doesn’t get me drunk but I have a high tolerance so neither does a six pack, but after a six pack I’m never “emboldened to speak my mind” to random strangers because I don’t like their view on economic policy while they are having dinner.  If she wasn’t drunk she was at least buzzed enough to irritate people but even if she wasn’t drunk or the booze had no effect on her it still doesn’t excuse her behavior.  Hell if she was drunk that still doesn’t excuse her behavior.  I never try to excuse my behavior when I’m drunk by saying I was drunk.  I admit that while I might have been drunk I should not have done/said what I did and apologize for it.  Would I have done/said the same thing sober?  No, no I would not have done (fill in the blank) but being drunk does not excuse my behavior it just might help explain why I was an asshole but I was still an asshole and for that I would still have to make amends.  What she should have said was “I saw a politician I don’t agree with eating dinner so I started a fight because I’m a bitch and have poor self control”.  Did she? No, instead she got angry that they were annoyed that she was being a bitch and accused them of being “confrontational”.

 

Oh boo fucking hoo!  Really, are you serious?  You accost me anywhere I’m going to get “confrontational” with you.  You’re verbally attacking someone trying to eat dinner (something I would call “confrontational”) what the hell do you expect?  To me bothering people while they’re eating is right up there with telemarketing at midnight in the T. Yamamoto book of rude things to do to people.  You just don’t do it and if you absolutely have to do it you apologize about a million times while doing it.  If I am at a store buying a CD and you – someone I don’t know – decide to start telling me how much you hate that band and how much I should like that band and how there is something wrong with me for liking it I’m going to tell you to “fuck off” and if I am eating dinner and you walk up to my table I’m going to tell you to “fuck off”  and if you don’t because you are so important and what you believe is so important (Mrs. Feinberg) that you can’t just walk the hell away and leave people alone I’m going to get “confrontational” in the hope you will leave so I can get back to living my life without your annoying bullshit.  This is the kind of person that would walk up to a person and punch them in the face and then get angry that the person fought back.  Oh, right it’s OK when you do it I understand. Wait no, no I don’t fuck you.  If you start a fight don’t cry about it when people fight back.    I hate hypocrites but the worst kind are the ones that want you to feel sorry for them when they pull their bullshit.

 

Mrs. Feinberg works at Rutgers University as an economics professor.  Under no circumstances should you attend Rutgers if Mrs. Feinberg even remotely represents the professors there and you sure as hell shouldn’t go there for economics.

 

 

 

 

I hate it here…

 

 

Short Stories: I Rememeber.

The beauty of youth is that they are often un-jaded by the world not having been in it long enough to watch their hopes die with each passing day for a thousand years.  In their naiveté they have yet to learn the truth of the world.  Any side can claim them and they will march like lemmings to the slaughter for any cause have set their fancy.  The old know this and can use it for good or evil.  Cannon fodder for ideology they have yet to understand how to question.  They are destruction and innocence at the same time. The young mind can be dangerous in the wrong hands.  Well, not even the wrong hands, it can be a time bomb for anyone no matter how good their intentions may be.  When you have yet to learn how to question, often you don’t.  Cannon is all they know and in almost a brainwashed state they run towards the nirvana their masters have told them of.  It is fire, and fire cannot always be contained.  When you were an old man, remember the time you met the young maiden and she spoke to you of higher things.  When you watched her eyes and knew she had yet to truly understand the meaning behind her words, as we all have growing up.   We saw the things in life that struck cords within our hearts but she rallies to a banner, a cause!  Heroic poetry, the muse of the majestic but also of the low and vile things are in her words.  The things we run from in our age or use for our own ends.  The young are cannon fodder for our cause and the innocent we use as our mouths.  The people looking for power understand this, we love it we need it to gain our titles and riches.  I walked away.  I couldn’t even look myself in the eyes anymore.  I lead countless men to the slaughter under the banners I waved.  My hands can be cleaned of blood but my soul is caked in it.  Ground in so deep that bleach could never remove the stains on my heart and mind.  I broke and I walked away to make a hermit of myself as if I was some monk cloistering himself in his hilltop monastery to gain enlightenment.  Ha, I ran away!  I was dead inside and now some little girl is crying with those eyes I have seen a thousand times for help.  Men have died for centuries over a young girl’s cries and now knowing what I do I’m going to walk back into hell because of some pitiful creature who still believes?  Old men used by even older tricks.

I remember the stories of how my father died…

He sat looking up at the gun, the cold wind barely registering as it whipped through his tattered clothes.  “Here’s how I die.” he thought, “funny…”, it really almost was, kneeling down in the mud as the first of the winters snow came down.  Nothing else left to do but to be pushed into an open pit that would soon be the final resting place for his men.  “They wanted us to live like dogs, so killing us like them only made sense”.  Paraded in from of the helpless masses as a warning to others that might get unwanted ideas in their heads.  Rebellion against tyranny might sound like a glorious thing, but that was from the mouths of poets that either had long since forgotten the pain and despair of the struggle or those whom never saw it.  “Excuse me good sir” he said his speech in a manner of extreme politeness, more a mockery of the concept, dripping with the sarcastic flair only the jester could pull off at the gallows.  “I believe you forgot to take the safety off, I would hate to think you’d embarrass yourself at my execution sergeant, I don’t know how I could ever live with myself if you did”.  The blow from the sergeant was swift.  He could feel bones cracking as he hit the muddy ground.  It didn’t matter anymore, after the beatings they had received for the last month the pain didn’t mean anything, it was almost comical.  It was the beauty of a snuff film. You beat them as if only to prove their point of your own depravity.  “I should have died in battle not like this,” he thought, wishfully thinking “You already knew it wouldn’t end well, just a hope for some glory or whatnot.  Die on my feet, not an execution then dumped into a ditch, fucking poets never talk about this, but I guess it makes for bad stories when the hero dies in a ditch like a dog.  The only choice we have in our death is to take what comes… Well we could take it ourselves but that has less meaning then the courtroom I was in this morning… Hell if I wasn’t going to get a dignified death might as well have fun with it, I’ll give my kid a good story to tell his friends when he grows up about his bastard of a father”, as if the child would ever know.  “Excuse me sir but could you make this quick?  See I have a date tonight and if I’m late I still get charged for the full hour”.  “Prisoner 3244, do not make this harder for yourself then it is already going to be now shut the fuck up!” yelled the lieutenant as the sergeant rained more blows onto the condemned.  Almost in a daze he thought to himself about his fate, they were supposed to be warriors… No bagpipes, no young Celtic woman signing laments to her fallen love. “Fucking poets…”  The Sergeant had finally taken the safety off, he noticed.  It was time to go, “Well if there wasn’t going to be a woman’s lament at my funeral I guess I’ll just sing something myself” he thought, lifting his head up he began to shout the words to a dirty song from his youth at least it was appropriate for the situation, “You live your life like an annoying bastard might as well die as one”.  The world went red as a single round passed through the back of his skull.  A new hill of skulls for a new generation….

I remember my youth…

I remember long ago when I woke up in that trench on my 19th birthday.  This was not new for me at the time as I had done it most mornings for the past year with the occasional foxhole and cave thrown in for a nice change of scenery.  As usual I attempted to change into clean socks -clean socks being ones I might not have worn for a day or two – and questioned myself on why I was there.  I knew the answer, I just always hoped I had a better one one day but I never did.  The truth was while I was not the most ideological man in the world but I remember my surrogate father and his war stories and some things just kicked the wrong way so on day he died I picked up a gun and marched out.  I remember him to this day, he’d been a Master Sergeant in the army years before and still looked the part except his eyes had more kindness in them after having to raise a child and being forced to let go of the pain of his fallen comrades. He understood why he was left behind that day; someone had to take care of the families to be evacuated to safety especially the young pregnant bride of the lieutenant. What is more important the mission the generals send you on or the mission your friend gives you to protect his wife?  The kind of question each man can only answer for himself.   He had become the uncle of so many poor children from fathers lost, Master Sergeant Williams became Uncle Daniel the stern but kind old man for whom every word spoken was law.   The children would sit in rapt attention almost as if in formation as he would regal them of stories and knowledge of the past.  On his death bed he regretted the stories he told them of their parents war and history, it was his job to protect them, but the stories had instilled pride in their hearts over their fathers dreams and sacrifices, and wanting to live up to their fathers names they marched off to die when the rebellion started anew. He should have won, his men, his generation should of won, but they didn’t and left the next their sorrow.  That is the curse of the old warrior.  That is the curse of the bard.  For he can only sing of the young men fallen, thinking that all the good men are dead, shot through with arrows in the fields to give us even a glimmer of hope that good men will once again be. The truth is that a man can only die in vain if we care not for his sacrifice, but are many not willing to forget our past so that it becomes second nature to curse our heroes and sympathize with our enemy?  We killed ourselves for…  Um… Fuck if we know.

Like so many others I was not willing to forget.  Lucky for me that kick landed me in a trench outside Farmington eating rats and waiting for the inevitable shelling that would most likely occur at the exact moment I was trying to figure out what plant wasn’t a good idea to use as toilet paper.  I love my life… I think.  In reality at this point I’m just hoping I don’t die with a handful of poison ivy while sitting on the hole we call a latrine.

To say the least I was the worst soldier in the worst army on the planet.  The simple fact I’m alive might make that statement slightly awkward, but really, who is going to argue with me?  I might be a bad soldier but I’m still alive, I like to tell myself I have no idea why I’m still here but I think I know why, I just like to tell myself I don’t.  Makes it all sound better.  Well, in my head it does, sane people probably think something is wrong with me and they might be right but I don’t know any sane people so what do I really know about what they are thinking?

I was a soldier in a war we lost.  We were farmers and tradesmen fighting for an ill-defined ideal of freedom against our own corrupt state.  All of us pawns and we knew it but we hoped we where pawns on the side of justice in a war that lasted several lifetimes and several more if you count the average life of a soldier.  As the war dragged on, others died and I lived, I was promoted again and again but not so high that I wasn’t still a pawn.  In war the ability to survive without running away in cowardice has always been a virtue and I imagine it always will be but in the end we lost and lucky for me I was not so high that I wasn’t granted a pardon so at 25 I went back to my little town and my trade to grow older in my little apartment alone until the day she walked into my little shop on the corner of Maple avenue and who gives a shit.

Natasha was young it looked like she was twenty at most, petite, auburn hair with the look on her face of the cute ignorance of a child with a purpose.  The look that has gotten men killed for centuries and she walked into my shop to get me killed.  No, that wasn’t her intention; she wanted to start the war anew, for the fourth time because someone had filled her head with the same dreams our fathers had filled ours but she was going to get me killed.  I had known her father years before and while I had walked away to nothing but a little shop he had gone home to his family and raised his young daughter up with the idea of making his dreams a reality.  I should have thrown her out, I shouldn’t have listened but I was undone by those eyes and her promises of glory that reminded me of my youth so long ago and I marched back into my death.  Long ago I had walked away so why now was I running back?  Back to the battlefield and glories drenched in young men’s blood.  Maybe my hermitage was only my own personal purgatory while I waited to be called back as I swore I never wanted to be or would.  Maybe I’m just a sucker for the lamentations of children and other poetic lies.  Maybe I just gave up and wanted to die yet still be able to claim some honor from it.  It doesn’t matter now I picked up my banner and marched back out into the fray, back into hell itself.

I remember my death…

Five years later.  Five years after listening to the tearful pleas of a friend’s child I was kneeling in the mud in front of an open pit my jaw broken and watching the little droplets of blood falling from my face and forming a tiny pool in the dirt.  I remember pushing her out of the back as the house we were in was stormed.  I remember the trenches and death and the long hungry nights.  I remember asking myself why I was still there and why I just couldn’t let the pride of my youth go and walk away.  I remember how it felt to be alive and all the lies of the poets.  I tried to look at the sky with the one eye still not shut from trauma and caked blood but it was too painful to lift my head.  I remember smelling the oil from the gun pressed against the back of my head and trying to stutter out some empty insults to the executioners and I remember nothing else.  Fucking poets…

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