the Horseshoe Theory … or How I Learned Not to Blame All My Problems on the Jews and How I Learned to Blame All My Problems on White Men

It’s a brave new world out there – it’s a fat, green-haired, in-your-face gay world, so that makes it brave, ironically so for a nation that has injected military propaganda into literally every facet of its citizen’s lives. Well fine, alright it really isn’t, like – at all, but there is a loud group of people like that, and across an invisible chasm of hearts full of neutrality is another group that seems to believe that college campuses in America have been overrun by people like that. I’m not sure how all the rules work and trying to find common ground with the college crowd when you’re long past that stage is just painful. I guess it’s a bit tricky finding common ground with anyone when you’re a miserable former alcoholic who can’t bear the punishment of existence without your best gal Mary Jane, it’s really not that bad most days, it just kind of sucks knowing depression is your default. As if I wasn’t already permanently dazed and hard at work burning out what memories are still there from my youth, everything keeps moving in zany new directions whenever I tune into Life. President Trump was to be expected, I wrote that it wouldn’t surprise me in the least well before the election; the coming civil war in America is to be expected, although not entirely unavoidable; and the rise of fascism in the West seems like a foregone conclusion. While I don’t advocate for fascism, I think it’s fair to say many would agree that democracy is wasted on a population that can’t find the country they’re at war with on a map and have no idea how their democratic process even works. It’s not as if it’s hard to find out or understand, and I’m not just talking about the common folk here, I’ve met entirely too many wealthy people who really have no greater aspirations than to play with expensive toys. That’s the sort of thing that baffles me… some guy who’s almost 30 and trying on dresses, and another guy who can barely pry himself away from his video games to shit for 2hrs a night are the least of my concerns, really just two of the myriad varieties of retards out there.


CEO: I want to get in on this military worship, also I need a tax write-off, but only like $500.
Marketing: Don’t worry I got this.

There seems to be a new litmus test for racism, it’s basically one question: did a white person say it? If the answer is yes, then it’s certifiable racism. I’m not talking about hate speech or anything like that, I’m talking about the sort of joke Russell Peters could easily get away with that would get an Irish comedian in more hot water than a Chinese teabag. There’s also a women’s movement that started to seem a little off when names like Terry Crews and Aziz Ansari showed up on the list. Everybody already knew Hollywood obviously has no problems with reprehensible pieces of shit like Roman Polanski who drugged and raped a 13 year old girl, he got a standing ovation – why do you think they would care about some no-name actresses? And did I even say that right? Is it actors now? Is a dress enough to make a woman? Are we all equally capable in spite of the fact testosterone and estrogen are used to treat people transitioning to a new gender? And I can pick my gender, but not my orientation, unless it’s a racial preference, that’s not ok, but if a surgeon removed your dick then I’m transphobic if I don’t pretend you’re a woman. Yeah, I give up, I sort of understand why nobody really cares if grandma throws out a slur every once in a while, my generation’s version of that is going to be some mild embarrassment for the kids when we casually throw out a “faggot” over Scrabble on family game night. The barriers to creating true human connections beyond Scrabble night seem to get higher and more intense – people have demands, gone are the days of two bros sharing a beer and cheering opposite sports teams, you’re more likely to run into a circlejerk of hipsters discussing which craft brewery has the best hops while Premier League or poker plays on the background TV, and god help you if you actually dig soccer, they never know who’s playing or what the score is. You need to pass a psychological exam if you want to be friends with some of these people, I know most of us aren’t like this, but we’ve all met someone like this: calls anyone even slightly conservative a nazi, is sadistically addicted to ‘debating’ things like gun rights and abortion laws with anyone at the drop of a hat leading to a novel’s worth of word-salad facebook posts about nothing and littered with minor spelling errors, literally cannot talk about anything besides hot-topic political issues while knowing almost nothing about the actual political process, and finally in spite of all this is actually very easy to get with due to low self-esteem. It reminds me of another sort of person I’ve come across a few times, have I mentioned I believe in horseshoe theory?

As a radically neutral centrist I can’t really pretend I care about someone I’ve never met dying in a jungle somewhere anymore than I give a shit about who’s driving my uber as long as I get where I’m going. There’s always conflict in some shithole – that’s what makes it a shithole. Are we really going to pretend the Congo is a nice place to raise a family? Or was the left just pearl-clutching at the use of naughty language? They were awfully quiet while those drones were killing kids in Pakistan. So what happens is everybody eventually starts to lose credibility, between Nazis and Communists are painful memories of war and starvation, they want you to pick a side but only give you two shitty options. As they move down the horseshoe they get further and further away from nuance and rationality and closer to each other. Imagine if Hitler had never betrayed Stalin and they carved up Europe and Africa together – I think the sort of person who would rise in this crazy world is the same sort of person who will ultimately rise and reshape the West: He will ride under a banner of cooperation and protectionism, he will be backed by money so old it’s guaranteed in gold, he will actually have a sickeningly clean record and almost no bad habits to speak of, and he will be celebrated in his time. Somewhere else another will rise and he will unite our enemies against us. One will betray the other, rinse and repeat, we’re not at the world-unification stage yet, not even close, there are many wars left to fight, our grandparents didn’t storm the beaches of Normandy with hugs and love and neither will our wars be fought without violence. I used to think this was common sense, but it’s become apparent that it really isn’t.


A Fast Food Burger (without Fries + Soda) Isn’t Worth $10 You Idiots

I’m just going to skip over a lot of the usual rhetoric about how most consumers are barely a handful of brain cells away from apes who fling their own shit at each other (in fact Wal-Mart might even argue this one) since I feel it’s already the natural conclusion any rational person would come to after a week of working in retail. There’s a system that goes well beyond the minimum wage employees with no fucks to give, the ‘Daybeed‘ who answers the phone in the ‘North Carolina call center’ with a flawless Bengali accent, and the rich cunts like Beyonce and Trump taking advantage of slave labor wages in third world countries to hawk ‘premium’ products at idiots using purposely deceitful language like empowerment and American. It’s not even just the corporate welfare state of subsidies and tax breaks that push the burden on to the rest of us or even the fact that when the law is broken the wealthy simply do not get punished in the West. There’s a symphony that all these gears in motion form and symphonies don’t write themselves, people write symphonies. These ingredients left alone long enough will eventually produce a $10 burger: a dry, tasteless beef patty drenched in mustard with a tower of three pickle slices in the middle, a pre-cum of vinegar runoff oozing away from them, crushed under the weight of soggy, oil-drenched fries and flat sugar-water soda, the only thing they’re generous with is the lettuce, not the leaves of course, but the stalks, oh and adding the fries and soda upped the price to $15 before taxes, bringing it in line with what you could buy at an alright restaurant, nothing fancy, but a hell of a lot better than a place like, say A&W. So how the fuck do these shitty fast food places (like A&W) stay in business? I mean, obviously if you’re wealthy and don’t pay taxes, don’t pay your workers any more than you’re legally obligated to (and even less if you hire illegals – an all too-common practice in Canada that goes unpunished), cut costs by using old machines and substitute lettuce stalks for leaves, then yeah, it’s a lot easier to stack – what confuses me is why do people go to these overpriced shitty fast food restaurants (like A&W) in the first place?

As someone born after World War II, I was taught things like typing and computer literacy in school, unfortunately over the last ten years in the ‘real world’ I’ve come to realize most of the people older than me see computers as fancy adding machines for banks or for sharing embarrassingly passé memes on Facebook. It’s great if you’re a salesman that sells overpriced rubbish, not so great if you’re say, running for president. I know when I walk into a store the first thing I do is check with other vendors, if it’s cheaper somewhere else, then that’s where I’ll go, or order from. And listen, it’s great that you have enough money to not worry about an overcharge here and there, but that’s not why I shop around – I shop around because I owe no loyalty to any of these giant companies and because I have some personal pride – I don’t appreciate being forced to bend over by a company that makes billions. If you can afford to spend $100 on a bottle of water, good for you, but we both know that water just simply isn’t worth that much. Somewhere along the line someone seemingly realized that there are a lot of fools with dollars out there and poor math skills, and that’s how we ended up with $1500 computers with <$700 in parts, Apple phone processors clocked down and battery life artificially drained by the company, and $10 fast food burgers. And people just buy into all this shit and it becomes the norm. The old norm becomes the premium, the prices go up when the dollar goes down, but they never come back down again. I’m not upset I got ripped off by the store, I’m upset the store already ripped me off three times before I even walked in: accepting subsidies and tax breaks, then hiring illegals anyway, not paying taxes, then fucking me again at the point of purchase. The cherry on top is that these are the loudest voices to complain when wages go up or taxes do, as if there’s some alternate reality where they ever paid their fair share of either anyway.

Personally, I avoid malls and shopping centers, the most time I spend in a mall is cutting through the Eaton Center in Toronto to the subway. If I die and the devil does exist, surely he’ll send me to a mall on Christmas Eve forever and pad every wall so I can never find relief by smashing my head repeatedly into them until my skull cracks and my brains fall out, an activity that sounds far more pleasant than a trip to the mall. What’s amazing is every time I’m in a mall, everything is on sale, on deal, on mark-down, what’s even more amazing though is that it’s the same signs from two years ago and it’s still more expensive than an online retailer. Words simply have no meaning in the consumer world: sale actually means out of season or discontinued, pre-owned actually means used, buy 1 get 1 free actually means if you buy two, we’ll almost charge a fair price for the total, and support our troops actually means we’ll say anything that gets your wallet open. Do you ever feel like a burden when you walk into a retail store? It’s because you fucking are. Imagine every 15 minutes at your desk job someone just walks in and tosses an empty Tim Horton’s cup (the national flag of trashy contractors and people who don’t speak English) somewhere in the room, obviously there’s a bin there but let’s be honest here: people don’t use bins, just like people don’t read the giant sign at the entrance to the room that says ‘please don’t litter.’ It doesn’t matter that you’re not a janitor, what are you gonna do – let your supervisor see you just walk past a pile of garbage? That would call for a crack of the whip and you need this job. Some consumers are craftier though, and you’ll find garbage in your desk drawer, in a filing cabinet, hidden behind a plant, basically anywhere except a bin. What’s amazing about being an asshole is that it’s a trait that doesn’t really tie itself down to a single type of person: rich, poor, middle-class, you’ll find assholes from all walks of life, and the retail outlet seems like a magnet for those types.

The verdict doesn’t look good, we did it to ourselves. Is it dishonest of a salesman to take advantage of someone’s ignorance? I find it ironic that if anything, the salesman is at a huge disadvantage: consumers have product reports, internet forums, consumer ratings available, lucky for the salesmen consumers still haven’t figured out computers. I see it as fair play: it’s not the salesman’s responsibility to do basic math for you, it’s not the salesman’s fault you couldn’t be bothered to do 5min of research on a $2000 purchase, and it’s not the salesman’s fault you don’t understand a lot of the terminology involved in a big purchase; nobody ever stopped you from learning elementary school level math, nobody ever stopped you from reading comments and complaints about the product, and nobody ever stopped you from using a dictionary when you need one. In that same sense I can’t really blame the rich with no morals for continuously jacking up the prices on everything – this is your fault for buying into that shit. A burger isn’t worth $10 because the ingredients, labor, and profit add up to $10, it’s worth $10 because people are willing to pay $10 for it. There’s altogether too many people with very poor to no financial literacy: mortgages they can’t afford, people barely scraping by but flashing ‘designer’ brand purses (and by the way, the expensive Louis Vuitton purses aren’t plastered with that tacky logo for all to see – way to make it obvious you can barely afford entry level rich-people trash while simultaneously being one minor auto repair away from bankruptcy). When I worked construction with minimum wage monkeys it was amazing to hear people complain about being underpaid and needing money for rent and food… while smoking cigarettes and drinking energy drinks, buying fast food, and hoping for a lottery win. That’s literally almost a day of work spent before you even get home: between the cigarettes, lunch, transit cost, $5 drink, and the taxes that are going to be taken out of your pay, it’s a bad deal, but it takes like, math to figure that out, man, and hockey is on – pass me a beer.

An Uneasy Realization that Stupid People are Good for the Economy

When I was in high school I was an impressionable young goth, then a punk, then a rasta, then a guy who wore blue jeans and band-shirts every day, then I don’t remember… it took almost two decades but I’ve successfully smoked out most of my early memories. Eventually things like rent and a serious, fulfilling relationship made growing up a necessity – for the children in their 20s I’m talking about adulting. It’s annoying enough so many people can’t deal with reality they retreat to baby-ish language, I feel dumber just typing that, but what’s up with all the acceptance of these fundamentally broken people? I’m almost taking it a little personally. When my friends from that time and I were kids with parents who didn’t care about us, before everybody was apparently getting their news and opinions from Facebook, too many of us were honestly struggling not to kill ourselves and had to turn to things like music and drugs to escape. There wasn’t a fear of judgment (at least not for me, if I cared about that I probably would never have worn black eyeliner and nail polish), it was the opposite actually: a fear of fake honesty, a fear that someone would try to help and ultimately fail, as they always did. Anyway, the point is we were obviously not good consumers: we weren’t buying the shit on the radio, we weren’t even listening to radio (to be fair with how many commercials the radio plays, nobody can actually listen to music on the radio), the obsessively narcissistic hypebeast template of today wasn’t really a thing back then, there was a guy downtown who printed band tees and that was the uniform; we didn’t watch TV, we weren’t really into sports, we didn’t read Captain America – we read Johnny the Homicidal Maniac and Squee, we weren’t rushing out to pay $30 for a movie ticket and spend another $20 for a bag of shitty 2-day old popcorn and miscellaneous goo, we had pirated VHS tapes and cassettes of movies like Rocky Horror and anything Dead Kennedys. As much as we lived within western society, we were very bad capitalists and that’s why we were forcefully replaced. The nu western youth model has a level cap increase to 30 (god I hope they draw a line by then), they actively operate at least two accounts on most social media platforms: an authentic account, and a more personal account, they think knowing literally the first lesson in slavery or American imperialism makes them woke, they lean left but considering how many Bernie supporters ended up voting Trump, I would say a lot of them legitimately have no idea what they actually believe –  most importantly however they spend a lot of money on completely stupid bullshit: comic book and television/movie/anime dolls (yes, dolls), Yeezy shoes, the latest gaming consoles, Iphones, Ipads, Ipods, Iwatches, whatever, they will stand in line for hours at McDonald’s for a packet of dipping sauce because a cartoon character referred to it, to wrap up a run-on sentence: they are very, very good consumers, for anyone in marketing (kill yourselves) these lost kids are just lambs to the slaughter.

To return to the punk scene, those days were an oasis in the vast desert of a world that had its own problems and just didn’t care. Suddenly you’re at a show and find yourself surrounded by so many people like you: broken home? Check. Smoker? Check. Bad Religion shirt? Check, check, check. There was a camaraderie, a unifying feeling and most of the music reflected that, until eventually it didn’t anymore. One day I found myself at a punk rock show and realized I already knew everybody there, their faces change but it’s always the same people. There’s the cheap asshole who’s gonna bum smokes off everybody all night, the girl who’s going to ride every guy stupid enough to buy her a drink like she’s on a carousel, the fat goth chick who seems like she’s dead-set on being raped by the way she acts, the ‘totally not a nazi’ skinheads who think looking 6′ tall in Doc Martens is badass even though anyone could glance at their skinny pool-noodle arms and know they wouldn’t last a day in any actual military capacity, though to their credit one of them absolutely will rape that goth girl, so maybe saying they won’t fit in with the military is a bit presumptuous of me… and etc. etc. etc… I asked, are these the people I identify with? I disagreed with almost all of them on almost every level – what the hell was I doing at punk shows? I thought it was about the music, but the songs all started to sound the same eventually too. I was in too deep, I didn’t like the idea that someone might look at me the way I was looking at the people at the show and think the same things, because honest to god I met a lot of fucking retards at punk shows, not the kind of excusable teenage stupidity we all grow out of, I mean people in their 20s and beyond (ugh) with either serious brain damage that hindered their development, or the sort of unaware boorishness that treads a fine line between overconfidence while explaining how evil the corporations are and coming off sounding like a genuine mental invalid. I thought I got away from that, but now it’s happening again, except this time it’s happening with my (very) liberal beliefs and I feel like it’s the same morons ruining that for me too.

Confession time: I have a Facebook account, admittedly for the same reason a lot of these youths I’m talking about do – to outwardly present myself as a normal person. I keep it for entertainment mostly, I can’t tell if people really mean most of what they share or there’s some huge joke I’m just not getting, also my wife likes to share pictures of our trips. What currently keeps popping up is the angry liberal, it’s not as if they don’t have a reason to be angry (though I’m not entirely convinced they actually know why they’re angry or what specifically is wrong with the system): he’s a college-aged male most often, he takes care of certain things like his hair while letting things like his weight slip, when he’s not foaming at the mouth retweeting literally every word Trump says, he’s busy outwardly and loudly identifying with pop-culture, usually posting ‘articles’ [sic] about who’s rumored to play the next comic-book hero, or reducing their entire personality to a meme that’s already made the rounds on Reddit a week earlier. Wait a minute – is that what other people picture when I tell them I lean heavily to the left? This is not good, this is not good at all.


Ladies take your pick, the nu-male of today: identifies as a male-feminist, thinks making a cheeseburger is cooking, deludes himself into thinking comic-book movies are anything but shitty advertisements for kids, has the mental maturity of a teenager. [picture credit: r/starterpacks]

Fuck, it’s bad enough that growing an unkempt beard makes them feel like manly men while spending their nights playing Nintendo, these people have completely put me off: sharing anything political with anyone, mentioning atheism, comic books, video games, or TV shows, growing a beard, the list goes on. I want to believe it’s the company I keep, that makes sense, right? Nobody ends up on my ‘friends’ list unless I add them or they add me, so I sort of did this to myself, right? Except that I keep running into these losers everywhere, they pop up at work and seem like they have this irritatingly desperate need to be the ‘funny guy’, they show up on the news (Wil Wheaton whining about a crying lego figure of Wesley Krusher from Star Trek the Next Generation comes to mind, he legit called the police over online trolling, just weak shit all around), they were practically unavoidable the last election (Bernie still has a chance!) and this was especially annoying as a Canadian, and they just keep popping up. Well, it really makes sense though, doesn’t it? Here’s a guy who has a lot of disposable income, makes his entire life readily available to marketers, swallows pop-culture like it’s going bad, and is easily impressed by movies like Ant-Man. This guy is a very good consumer, in other words, even in rare cases where a woman fucks him and stays with him, he’s going to make sure his kid wears Star Wars diapers and Converse shoes, plays the same video games they do, he’s going to try to posture himself like someone who cares about the plight of others, complaining loudly on Facebook about Columbus Day (but only when it’s trending on social media, this person literally could not tell you who Columbus sailed for) while doing absolutely nothing about any actual problems like homelessness, simply put: it’s best for the economy if these people stay the way they are. They can keep feeding the machine credit card debt, mortgages for overpriced homes they had no business buying in the first place, and they won’t question much because they’re incapable – they don’t burden themselves with actually reading history or science books, preferring instead to believe Wikipedia is any kind of substitute, and finally: the ones who do manage to reproduce, will create kids guaranteed to restart the cycle.

The capitalists and marketers must love this so much, they might actually get hard just at the sight of these people appearing everywhere, their faux-attitude sticking out like the tattoo they all necessarily have and can easily hide under a pressed-shirt sleeve. It would be hilariously ironic how much they profess to hate capitalism if it wasn’t so pathetically sad. Unfortunately for the rest of us, these people are important because they keep up the illusion that things are generally ok, whether it means pretending to smile in a profile picture (seriously, is it that hard to fake a real smile?), or giving any Star Wars movie the highest gross of all time every time there’s a new one. I loathe eventually going to PTA meetings and having to hear these people’s misguided attempts at being involved, these sort of people do the work of going to the school board about a bully and then wonder why their kid is the least independent dolt in the class. Does it shake my liberal beliefs? Well sort of, yes actually? I don’t want to be thought of as one of these people and that’s what I’m starting to think of when I think of a liberal: the sort of person who posts an ‘article’ [sic] about how Oprah is going to be the next president as if that’s a good thing to celebrate. Thank god almighty the Trump supporters are just as retarded, it’s refreshing to know anybody with a loud voice is an idiot, but man does it make me want to just walk away and stop participating completely. There’s a quiet majority out there that stays quiet for the same reason, right? Please?


Mushrooms for Breakfast … Life in Hell (When in Rome) … How Many Authentic Man-Balls Does Alex Jones Actually Have?

Hello my name is Frankie and I’m an alcoholic, a sex-addict, and a smoker; I have regular manic-depression, obsessive compulsive disorder (although the depression often cancels that one out), a possible disassociation disorder, and probably a few other things boring and expensive drugs are sold for. But that’s not the hard part, that’s the easy part, even the fun part sometimes – the hard part is making sure your scars don’t stand out while trying to reconcile a drug-culture life with living in a world of door-to-door proselytizers, censored nipples, and Americans pissed off at what I can only assume they believe to be some sort of goddamned liberal media. Well, I guess I’d be pissed off too if I lived in the bible-belt, just imagine your wife has some incurable cancer and you’re in a hospital with her (paying hundreds, if not thousands or more a day because for some stupid reason you’re a capitalist), and between rerun episodes of the Bachelor the inevitable commercials play on a CRT TV from 1988: boner pills, baldness cures, and bulk-up protein, and you think hey, that might make consensual sex in the missionary position with the wife more interesting, for a night, maybe. For the right price, doctors these days can even set you up with prosthetic balls if you don’t have those either, and it stands to reason that if one man feels emasculated by the missing family jewels then surely another feels emasculated by his relatively smaller jewels, and goes out and gets bigger prosthetics, and of course upon learning all of this, a man with already large testicles suddenly feels like maybe they’re not large enough anymore, so he goes out and gets himself a third testicle, then a fourth and fifth until finally he starts to look like he has a misshapen coin purse full of marbles tucked under his dick, but hey, he has the most marbles so he wins.

prostheticballsFinally, time to get coked up and rape sluts.

It’s hard getting along with people who are so damn… bland. I can understand people with literally no personality given the boring dystopia we live in, but do even their vices have to be so fucking boring? I mean, coffee and netflix? Really? Why are these people so obsessed with living so goddamned long for anyway? Do they really need to make someone go through the process of peeling the skin off a Florida orange (picked of course by the migrants they seem to dislike so much down there) because their shaky hands and gummy mouths simply can’t maneuver their way around a fruit anymore? Lord where are your zealous mormons now? If you want to put them to good use, how about putting some of these people out of their misery? Fighting with a fruit is not a dignified way to live, I hope I die before an orange becomes an ordeal. Then there are some people who actually choose to live like this as early as their 20s: risk free, drug free, fat and gluten free, and mom’s home-cooked meals every other weekend. If that’s what normal life is like, I’m glad I’m broken. Scarred recognize scarred and every once in a while you meet other (crazy) people like you, it’s often something as simple as the ability to be completely detached from most situations, the eyes can give away things like rapes and beatings and whatever else our pieces of shit parents and so-called caregivers threw at us. It’s a confidence in certain people that only develops under certain extreme circumstances, like when a 350lb man decides to beat the shit out of you when you were just trying to watch some Pokemon so you’d have something to talk about with the cute freckled girl at school the next day, somehow after something like that it’s hard to take life’s whey-protein and gatorade douchebros seriously, I mean, what are they gonna do? Hit you? It’s fucking pathetic, behold your five-balled Adonis, no longer chiseled from stone but a modern concoction of silicone, electrolytes, and anabolics, probably a dash of bulimia too.

I guess if the monster was under your bed and mostly didn’t bother you, you’d probably be afraid when you one day cross paths with an actually evil person, but when the monster uses the door freely – you already live in Hell, and well, when in Rome. There’s definitely a certain allure to the normal life when you wake up not knowing if you’re going to be happy or considering killing yourself again when lunchtime rolls around, stability starts to tempt. The thing most don’t want to admit is that people from that world have a hard time with people from Hell. Some people really can’t understand how refreshing a good depression can be, how being detached from a consumer culture isn’t a bad thing, and why it’s not nihilism to understand that things are generally not going well. Have you ever been depressed because it hasn’t been raining? Have you ever made it all the way to the subway, only to suddenly feel crushed by the weight of the world and turn around and go back to sleep until something, anything happens? How do you explain that to someone who thinks they’re saving the world because their lightbulbs have green stickers on them? Nevermind the brutal irony of people like Beyonce utilizing literal slavery to produce ’empowerment’ clothing and the tools who buy into that sort of bullshit, these people swallowed the capitalism pill so hard Alex Jones is starting to make sense – though to be fair it stands to reason that if you’re religious, you almost certainly hate gay people, therefore you’d at least be somewhat concerned with the advent of gay frogs too.

somefatassholeNote: He doesn’t look different because this photo doesn’t show the seventeen new prosthetic balls he had surgically implanted after hearing about a man with five balls, but the real question is still unanswered: how many authentic man-balls does Alex Jones actually have?

People have a tendency to act strange when their masculinity or righteousness is threatened, they’re über-sensitive to it because it doesn’t actually exist, it’s gone as soon as the Old Spice deodorant needs a refill, or a young boy is alone with a Catholic priest – and Lord where are your zealous Christians now? Even the Manson family didn’t rape children, and hell, if they had Scientology money they probably could’ve even legitimized their cult in the Land of the Free™. Anyway, the point is there’s no inspiration in a dull life of PTA meetings and being stuck in traffic 8hrs a week, there’s no feeling of being alive on a treadmill, it’s no wonder they can’t make sense of normal human emotions like sadness, lust, fear, or contempt – total sedation is the only way to make peace with Dick Cheney’s America. That is unless you’re a broken person of course, even better if you’re a Dr. like me, then you prescribe magic mushrooms for breakfast over two joints in the morning, start with the rum over lunch and fuck all afternoon, work your way to the heavier downers as the trip starts to wind down and you don’t feel ten feet tall anymore, then it’s time to find a high place and get that adrenaline going: it’s not the fear of falling that makes the heart beat so fast, it’s a fear of having lived for nothing. Frankly I’m surprised anyone can live in this world without drugs and adrenaline, seems like you’d have to constantly ignore pretty much all the suffering happening around you, or be genuinely too stupid to understand it, and I feel like god would only forgive one of these things.



All My Friends are in Marketing and Research (Take it Slow)

Imagine you’re a complete hack with no discernible talent, naturally you end up in a marketing position. Your name (in plain text, you’re not quite bold name material and you know it) is soon available at will on plain business cards hovering above the world’s most ambiguously vague job description at a company that’s been dissolved to evade taxes so many times it’s running out of friendly-sounding simple yet professionally corporate names, it’s something like Caleb Umguzzler – Marketing and Communications, the Smart Solutions Company – but if you’re a bold name man, the kind who can afford Häagen-Dazs vanilla for his wife and kids, it might be more like Rick Steele – Market Solutions, Research & Trends, the Happy Monk Research Company. Twenty years ago when going digital was all the rage and businesswomen wore padded shoulders and nobody called them female entrepreneurs yet, you probably would’ve worked for AnaComp (originally named Analcom, an amalgamation of Analysis and Computer), or DigiMax (originally named AnalMax, an amalgamation of Analysis and Maximum), or the Analog Drilling Company (originally named Tight Teens Take Anal Cocks, an unfortunate copy+pasting error by a man in his late 40s with absolutely no idea how to use a computer). Anyway, the important thing is that you’re meek. Then one sunny day you’re tasked with putting together some music that appeals to as broad a spectrum of the movie-going public’s taste as possible, but since you’re not a bold name man, you hand in a list of the first twenty songs you hear on the radio, telling yourself there’s no need to take any risks, “let’s not make any waves here Caleb, let’s just do our job so we can get home and finish catching up on Game of Thrones. Then! Then we’ll have something to talk about with Karen in accounting, slow and steady Caleb, you’ll win her yet.” So in a way you can blame Karen the accountant for the soundtrack to Suicide Squad, but in a much more realistic way it’s Caleb’s fault, all of it. The producers almost certainly asked for something with broad appeal, but Caleb could’ve played with it a bit, Caleb has no imagination, also he’s a complete wreck when talking to women and Karen’s married, and even if she wasn’t she only goes for bold name men, girl knows what she’s worth and good for her. If she had taken up Caleb’s offer to watch Game of Thrones last week, it would be followed by awkward hand touching and a playlist of the following songs: Animals – House of the Rising Sun –– AC/DC – Dirty Deeds (Done Dirt Cheap) –– Rolling Stones – Sympathy for the Devil –– Rick James – Super Freak –– Kanye West – Black Skinhead –– CCR – Fortunate Son –– Black Sabbath – Paranoid –– White Stripes – Seven Nation Army — and of course Bohemian fucking Rhapsody, which Caleb heard in high school (the last time he ever listened to new music) and has since believed is the single greatest human achievement in music.

You vs. the Marketer she tells you not to worry about.

Well the good news for Karen is that wasn’t Caleb’s playlist, Caleb doesn’t even have a playlist because he doesn’t listen to music or do other normal human things, he’s a marketer. Those songs are actually from the soundtrack to Suicide Squad, an avant-garde film project by David Ayer which asks viewers exactly how many montages can you fit into a 2hr movie? You could forward this movie to any random point and Vegas wouldn’t give you better than 50:50 odds you’ll land on a montage, the other 50 is Harley’s butt or Stereotypically All-American Military Guy Shouting in a Leadership Role and ohmygod He’s Even Wearing a Baseball Cap, but I’m not here to complain about Harley’s butt. The marketers must’ve had the utmost faith in Margot Robbie’s butt because they didn’t accidentally leak her nudes – Disney didn’t even have enough faith in Emma Watson carrying Beauty and the Beast to release it without accidentally leaking her nudes too. In fact Disney had so little faith in Beauty and the Beast they actually manufactured a fake controversy in Malaysia to ensure a commercial during the evening news. Isn’t it totally efficient how much labor is spent on marketing shit?

harleysbuttLeft, Assassin’s Creed (Clockwise): Dust. Dust. Dust. Dust.
Right, Suicide Squad (Clockwise): Butt. Butt. Butt. Butt.

Releasing Suicide Squad without the controversy of a nude photo leak represents a big leap of faith for a major movie studio these days, market research considered, which makes it somewhat ironic that Assassin’s Creed (a movie literally about leaps of faith) took no leaps of faith, creative or otherwise and was a pretty shitty movie. At least whoever edited Harley’s butt into every other scene in Suicide Squad knew well enough how to frame the butt properly and arrange the action around different shots of her butt. Assassin’s Creed on the other hand had no butts, which is ironic for a movie where the word ass appears twice in the title. I honestly have my doubts it even had a budget for special effects. If I was less lazy I’d do some sleuthing, this movie seems a lot like a Brazilian government contractor: “I know my price is $5M more than the other guys, but you take $2.5M and I take the other, or you can die, your choice” except when the project is finished instead of an award-winning journalist asking why the water is too dirty to swim in, it’s just me wondering exactly how much of your budget will the studio believe you blew on dust before they start asking where the money is really going.


A Greek Goddess in Waco, Texas … Raging Against the Machine through the act of Self-Immolation … Trendy Ways to Kill Yourself

Waco, Texas is sort of like a Michael Bay movie, it’s reputation precedes it. An American historical biography about David Koresh would be a Neil Armstrong leap for the Armageddon director however, it might even end up in the Library of Congress next to Top Gun if he does it right. But Waco isn’t all about sieges, there’s a building near the center of the town called the McLellan County Courthouse and outside that courthouse there used to stand three different statues: Lady Justice, Lady Liberty, and Themis. One June summer night in 2014 Themis took a beating from particularly bad wind gusts: county workers found her left arm the next morning on the courthouse lawn missing a thumb, the scales of justice were found nearby in a magnolia tree. It was the sort of interesting story that happens in a small town and gets picked up as page fillers for a dozen or so other small town newspapers in neighboring satellite towns, but is better suited for Kent Brockman’s It’s Funny When It Happens to Them file in the city they all orbit. Imagine you’re a journalist covering hard-hitting stories for small towns, asking front page questions like ‘will the new Wal-Mart run our town’s mom and pop shops out of business?’ while ‘overabundance of coffee and donuts at town hall regarding proposed development for massive, paved area with direct access to highway and main street as only six people show up’ is relegated to page 28 with the ‘international’ news. Then one day suddenly the scales of justice have quite literally tipped over, and that’s an interesting story, most people read it, but then the very next day you hear about this guy Charles Moore, a Methodist minister from one of those other small towns who drove almost a hundred miles that morning so he could set himself on fire in front of a Sophiztikutz in a strip mall as an act of protest of racism in the town. If you’re from deep in the heart of Texas you might write an article called ‘Madman or Martyr?’ and quote your police chief as saying “today we are a community of different ethnicities and racial makeups” and follow it up with the raw racial stats for every small town in the area, showing that the small town of Grand Saline, population ~3,000, is home to twenty black people, so technically, the police chief was right, there are definitely at least some different racial makeups in the town.


First Themis and now my appointment at Sophiztikutz, fuckin’ Mondays.

What’s interesting about Charles Moore is that he was apparently one of only two people to self-immolate for political reasons in the United States for over a decade, the other was a man named Tom Ball, who set himself on fire outside of the Cheshire County Court House because he was (according to his suicide note) tired of “being bullied for being a man” by the family court system, it’s worth mentioning that Mr. Man also slapped his four-year old daughter and likened being labelled a domestic abuser in America to a “Jew in Germany in the 1930s” idiotically missing the one event in his life he could have actually likened to Jewish persecution under the Nazis. Later that same year, Themis was on display at an open house, having been under repair for most of the year – actually there’s a great article out there from a small town newspaper that reports a crowd of dozens of soda and water-sipping people showed up but fails to mention how many of them were black – to be fair that was 2011, it’s entirely possible that those twenty people simply hadn’t moved there yet.

The National Center for Injury Prevention and Control published a study in 1995 of the over 350,000 suicides in the United States between 1980-1992. The study makes absolutely no mention of burning of any kind. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention has it’s own updated resources online however, and it’s interesting to note there is a category marked fire/burn. Is that burning flesh or the scent of a new fad? Is it time for apathetic trend-setters to trade in their half-shaved haircuts and converse shoes and fashionably classic hemp nooses for a can of gas and a box of matches? Obviously it’s not just for martyrs anymore. In 2013, 124 men and 29 women tried out self-immolation (presumably, ‘fire/burn’ could also mean jumping into a volcano or building a giant microwave and frying your brains from the inside out), in 2015, it was up to 131 men and 45 women – if you’re the chief of police in a small town, you might say that today the United States is a community of people who kill themselves in diverse ways. None of the available resources provide much details on the other suicide methods however, so far all we know in 2015, 95 people literally hammered the bullets into their heads as an act of protest and the government doesn’t want you to know, or more likely though probably something equally stupid like letting Jesus take the wheel. You have the admire the dedication of people who set themselves on fire have to killing themselves, with any luck most of them set a fire large enough that the carbon monoxide is what actually killed them, those unfortunate others took one of the most unbelievably painful ways out. As those numbers rise, it might not be something that just happens to townies for much longer, then the rest of us will have to start to worry about it showing up in our news too. Don’t forget to turn the flash off the next time you see someone lugging a jerry can around, oh and something something something reach out to someone in need.



Good Drugs for Bad Times

Finding good drugs in big cities doesn’t seem as easy as it used to be, in the West I mean, I have no doubt an eight-ball can be found with relative ease in Rio, or whatever they’re calling Formosa these days, though admittedly I haven’t had the chance to try my luck. I’m not talking about the kinds of drugs high school girls do before they’re inevitably raped by some meathead over a toilet as a busted stall door with swastikas scratched into it trembles, and who the hell does rohypnol for fun anyways? This baby et al. have mean tempers but they’re dim bulbs, the type who fetishize books but couldn’t tell you the last one they read. No, I don’t mean the ecstasy and ketamine easily available at any club you might find yourself in, it doesn’t matter which one, they all play the same color-by-numbers techno as you yell across the counter at the bartender “what else is for sale?” and he raises his eyebrows and dips a well-placed index finger into a tip-cup, you should have bought the lube in the vending machine by the toilet when you took that piss, because if you want to get past the gatekeeper in a strange city – you’re in for penetration. So what’s a traveler to do? You could always roam the urban landscape, that jungle of projects and low-income crackheads, with any luck a Caddy might pull up in the dim light of an all-night convenience or liquor store and a pimp-ass looking homie, with a little grease of course – $50 seems enough to suggest you mean business and are in possession of what economists call purchasing power, just may give you the address of a run-down crackhouse with less selection than a white college kid just out for a show on a friday night. But what about opium? Heroin? Even coke at times. The types of drugs those yuppie hipsters with their styled ‘lumberjack’ beards and plaid shirts and $699 shoes and clean white socks tend to shy away from, and of course they would, drugs are bad for business, and one mustn’t make the mistake of confusing these poseurs for anything other than what they really are: the latest generation of used car salesmen. Who can reasonably expect these baristas and so-called entrepreneurs to run cafes and hip new craft breweries, flip houses, go spelunking for true romantic love in the barren caves of apps and Christian dating sites only to find chicks who dick-ride until the next shiny thing comes along, and keep up with a vicious addiction? It’s too much, for them anyway.

Have you ever wondered why it’s ok to tell a smoker to quit smoking when they cough, but it’s quite a different situation to tell a fat person to go easy on the calories when they inevitably develop sleep apnea, diabetes, or can barely move around because the cholesterol has started clogging the nodes in their brains? It’s because you’re dealing with an addict. Gone are the days of smoking in well-decorated rooms while overzealous Asian businessmen offer you their best girls, that changed with Formosa and the onslaught of child sex-trafficking, and by the way, be wary of anyone who travels to the Asian parts of the pacific rim with glasses and white Nike shoes and a $20 haircut. Jesus, it’s a bad repeat of the 60s and 70s – they’re going there to fuck those people. It’s almost a shame the police forces over there are so corrupt, there’s no special treatment for pedophiles in those countries, they’d be thrown to the dogs, or fed to them more likely, I guess also be wary of any man who keeps dogs. But most western kids don’t get into that kind of trouble, they’re too fashionable, and 80s drugs are out of vogue, depression is in, hysteria is out, if they actually knew anything about mental illness they’d know the two are married and no good depression comes without hysteria, it’s like these self-proclaimed eastern philosophers haven’t even read the I Ching. You don’t see a doctor about depression, unless you want a result that takes 12-24 $100/hr sessions to ‘get to the root of’, no, you self-medicate or burn out, law of the jungle baby. But what do you do if the jungle is too fast for you? A tinch too furious? You go on safari with an armed guard of course, you don’t self medicate your crippling depression because what if those drugs are tainted? What if you catch AIDS from some junkie bitch who’s so fucked up she can’t keep track of which needles she’s stuck between which toes? Why chase expensive and dangerous thrills when there’s a faint feeling of being alive in valuum and xanies, highly-specific pornography, and the worst offender: sugar. More than a third of Americans are overweight, and the most abused drugs are painkillers, what the hell happened to drug-addled rock stars? Who are these fat fucks and their ugly disassociated kids and what happened to the Hell’s Angels that beat the shit out of Hunter Thompson? Actually, I can answer that, HA is still pretty active, at least in Canada, moving most of the weed grown in BC over to Montreal, it’s a long trip, but there’s money to be made and somebody had to step up.

If you’re not a trust-fund yuppie though, or you didn’t pull yourself up from your bootstraps with a small million dollar loan like President Pussygrabber, or you’re not a rich Arab kid who can’t stand this country anyway, you’re probably like the rest of us with mainly poor people problems, the least of which is finding better drugs to cope with it all. Raising rents, shitty phone plans, ugly fat kids, and have you seen how many commercials they run during a football game these days? And they want $140 a month for this steaming pile of marketable, safe for work, child-friendly horseshit? Those swine can kiss the hairiest part of my ass. Maybe some scum in marketing and advertising can explain why violence is acceptable for wholesome family-values American homes, but nipples are obscene? And how does dad’s trip to Taiwan last summer fit into all of this? Or maybe they’re all just symptoms of something else, like some cultural disease perhaps. Being a Dr. only in the loosest sense, it’s not for me to say whether gentrification is a symptom of changing attitudes and less hard drugs is another side-effect, or (more likely I believe) gentrification is the disease and less hard drugs is merely a symptom of sheltered yuppie kids moving in. The neighborhood has to be made safe and clean, the poor must be tamed or cleared out, Manifest Destiny 2: Electric Boogaloo. You have to wander out ever further to keep away from the new, sterile world they’re building, and if you want good crank you have to deal with the nazi pieces of shit outside biker bars, but hey, maybe pushing poor people into desperate places while leaving the drugs in the hands of nazis is one reason nationalism and disdain are steadily rising, what did you think those people were funding themselves with anyway, cookies and bake sales?