Addicts Get the Bullet Too

I woke up this morning and something felt off, I couldn’t quite figure it out so I went to see a doctor. Being Canadian this meant sitting in a gross room full of coughing non-English speakers and ‘holy shit how do you even get that fat‘ people, fortunately it only took about six days for the doctor to ever so briefly see me. She took out her stethoscope and did her thing, finally she delivered the bad news: “I’m afraid you have a disease, you’re addicted to crack now.” If that scenario sounds absurd, I assure you the only part I embellished was the diagnosis – I’m actually addicted to rage. To be clear, UrbanDictionary defines addiction as ‘a compulsive habit that people obtain through repetition,’ the American Medical Association however, defines addiction as a disease, so there you go, no self control is a certifiable disease now apparently. One of the many perks of living in our post-facts world is that you don’t have to take responsibility for any of your own actions anymore, nothing is your fault! Rather than complain, the opportunist in me said play the game: become certifiably retarded. I thought to myself, if addiction is a disease (and therefore presumably covered under disability laws), and you can become addicted to everything from gambling to video games to orgies and boner pills, then surely a Dr. like myself can navigate my own way into a made-up excuse for a total lack of self-control. I pondered over my morning screwdriver and the Irish coffee I have for brunch, by my lunchtime rum and coke I thought I had an answer but it didn’t become clear to me until the third bottle of wine I drink every night: I would become an alcoholic hopelessly plagued by an incurable disease. I broke the bad news to my human resources counselor the next morning. I said “I have a disease now, you’ll need to accommodate me.” Of course she needed more than my word, but I was prepared: I placed a beer on the desk between us and she watched in awe as the beer slowly defied gravity and hovered into my hands, she could see the desperation as I tried in vain to fight it away. “No!” I said, “damn you alcohol! I resist you!” but you can’t reason with a disease, it opened my palm and forced itself into my hand, then it lifted itself against my pursed lips and forced its way through until I drank it all, completely unable to stop myself.

Bullshit aside (and it is bullshit), addiction is weak shit. I completely understand using drugs as a coping mechanism, this western world desperately needs an ass-kicking for its own good, but at a certain point if you really can’t cope anymore to the point where you can’t even keep a menial labor job, do you really have any value to society? Out west where the bums are mostly Natives (and the mouth wash is behind lock and key, I’ll let you math that one out yourself), it’s literally too dangerous to go out in certain parts of the city. Anyone who’s been to Vancouver can tell you why you should never stop anywhere on Hastings, the bums will walk up to your car, they will try to smash your windows, they will stab you for a few dollars if it means another hit of fentanyl. Calgary is better, but still feels trashy as fuck, especially around the infamous Crack Macs. I lost track of how many times some drunk piece of shit hassled me for a smoke or spare change, funny how you’re always a ‘brother’ when it possibly means a cigarette, but you’re a racist if you don’t have any change. And who the fuck carries change around anymore anyway? If those bums think they’re getting paper money out of me while my rent keeps going up, they’re fucking crazy. “But Dr.,” you say, “that’s the problem! It’s a mental health issue!” Well of course it is! If you can define thinking of and wanting hot premarital sex every day as a disease, I’m pretty sure at least half the population is diseased. How can you possibly argue with that kind of logic?

hastingsI’m pretty sure if we just install some needle disposal bins then people will use them, because obviously they use trash cans.

There’s entirely too much sympathy going around for people that don’t deserve it. It’s dangerous to keep pretending everybody out on the street is some poor lost soul who just needs to take a pill to get better and it’s everybody else in society who’s more worried about their own taxes keeping them from getting the help they need. Is it really a surprise that nobody wants co-op housing near them? I live down the street from one, I shit you not they recently burned down a neighboring house. That’s to say nothing of the gag-reel of their usual antics [cue Benny Hill theme]: smashing the glass at the bus shelter, running across the road into oncoming traffic (sometimes clutching a baby) when the light is less than 50′ away, an inability to speak without saying ‘fuck’ at least sixteen times per sentence, stealing from and harassing local workers, the dog shit everywhere that never gets cleaned up, and the mountains upon mountains of cigarette butts. Obviously this isn’t anybody’s fault, for all I know there’s some disease that renders you totally incapable of picking up dog shit. What’s the cure for that? I would prescribe a swift kick to the mouth, but for the sake of honesty I should admit I’m not actually part of any medical association. Of course that would also ignore the fact that a lot of these people are simply professional hobos, kind of like gypsies. If you’ve ever worked closely with people like that, if you’ve ever actually lived in an area like that, and if you’ve ever actually been in close contact with that kind of addiction, you know a lot of those people will never be able to help themselves. It’s not as if their families and support are all jaded, miserable assholes like me who cut them off with no remorse, it takes a lot of hard work to really break somebody’s spirit that badly. Once you decide you’re going to eat cat food and listerine for dinner so you can afford your addiction to the celebrity gossip hotline, there’s really no turning back.

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I’m Not Really Into the Macabre, I’m Just Passing Through

I’ve been depressed for so long my suicidal thoughts went from intruders, to friends, to old friends who got too boring to see anymore, like that buddy of your’s from high school who found you on facebook and when you see him he’s fat now and only talks about work – I’m really just like yeah sorry to waste your time but I just don’t care about your boring life anymore. Honestly, usually I wish everybody else was dead but I suppose Hollywood can carry its share of the blame for that one, romanticizing the apocalypse in movies, TV shows, video games – doesn’t that world just seem so much better? No more people, no more work, no more ads, no more traffic, no more laugh-track TV shows, no more trendy breweries and bistros, no more capeshit movies… just serenity, peace, and freedom. I’d gladly take the occasional zombie over the morons I deal with on a daily basis any day of the week, at least you can shoot a zombie. Much to my chagrin, society is still there every morning which means depression still drops by unexpectedly whenever it feels like it. That’s the thing about depression though, it comes and goes as it pleases and you just have to learn to live with that somehow or you’re gonna have a bad time; sometimes that means calling in sick to work and staring at the ceiling in your living room for 8hrs instead, sometimes it means fleshing out the characters in your novel, sometimes it means spreading the misery around a little, sometimes it means drugs… ok most of the time it means drugs. You usually get crushed by the wave, but sometimes you see the signs and catch a good one and you can ride your misery high for days until eventually you crash on the shore of who you used to be, these broken, desperate feelings of hopelessness and solitude feel like old news now, why did they ever scare you? You learn to use it instead, you channel it into your work, too much at first but you fine-tune it over time – just a touch of the macabre, enough that the other freaks like you can pick up on it and read between the lines. It’s an odd feeling, being around something trying to destroy you and trying to enjoy it, but what else can you do? The water may be full of sharks, luckily I’ve grown tired of living.

I like my depression, it had a heavy influence on who I became and remains an important part of who I am. Anyone treating depression like a battle and not a love affair isn’t doing it right. You have to stand on the edge of a tall building and feel your heart race – it’s the only part of you that won’t lie, and if you’ve never looked down at a busy world and realized how truly insignificant everything is, if you’ve never thought about killing yourself as casually as what you’ll eat for dinner, and if you’ve never been truly upset you arrived at work and didn’t get hit by a car instead – then you’re probably just upset about some shit and not really depressed. It’s important to note that depression is the symptom, not the disease, of course there’s some chemical bullshit happening in your brain but so what? Happiness is a chemical reaction too; love, desire, anger, everything is governed by electric pulses in our reptile/monkey brains – how dare they tell us how to feel? It’s perfectly normal to look at the world, at other humans, at the Disney corporation, at third world shitholes and think holy shit, things are so fucked up. We didn’t evolve to sit on our asses in offices all day, microwave dinners and American Idol weren’t part of the evolutionary plan – that’s why it feels so retarded and out of place! It’s not enough to flirt with death and suicide, you have to make a commitment because it’s going to make a commitment to you whether you like it or not so you better start wining and dining it. I often find myself longing for the change of a depression, I miss it like I’ve got stockholm syndrome; reality is full of fake smiles, marketers (kill yourselves), and people who haven’t read a book since Harry Potter (and never even made it through the whole series), I’d much rather watch the rain with a bitter coffee and a toke, this world can just pass right on by, there’s not much else that interests me here.

 

Cowboys in a Post-Facts Society

Let’s be real for a minute here, as much as people may froth at the mouth with impotent rage at every lie that President Trump says, none of us really care. I mean, I guess we sort of care on a personal level, maybe just enough to occasionally virtue signal on social media, but as a society we don’t really care. You fake milquetoast twitter-shitter outrage queens know exactly who you are by the way: I’ve never seen the people with the loudest voices at a church drive for the homeless, but that’s because they’re atheists, right? Well, I’ve never seen them at a soup kitchen either, never seen them planting a tree in the hood or attending a town hall meeting, never seen them make a proper donation without asking for a tax receipt, never seen them at an after-school program or the PTA, never seen them pick up trash off the ground, but then again I’ve literally never seen these people without an Apple laptop in one hand and a Starbucks cup carefully designed to be as inoffensive as possible in the other. Maybe instead of giving in to the kind of people who play the race card when they find their Christmas lights tangled every winter we as a society could collectively give people a dose of reality outside of this circus we call the West, because brother, it’s shitty out there. Just imagine living an openly gay life in Jamaica and still thinking gay people have it hard here; imagine being dumped in the Congo and picked up a year later and still thinking western cops are fascists; imagine telling a Saudi or a Jewish person in the middle-east you don’t participate in their culture and that you think they should change their nomenclature to reflect that; imagine thinking some stupid middle-aged woman overreacting to a turban is the same as being stoned to death for having the audacity to be a woman wanting to be treated like a human being in a muslim country, or hell how about a cheap laugh: try just getting born as a woman in China – good luck participants! I’ve heard a lot of ‘feminists’ moan about manspreading and mansplaining, I haven’t heard too many speak out on organized religion or an almost absolute lack of women’s rights in most poor countries – I wonder why that is? I would think getting acid thrown in your face might be a little worse than being called toots by some asshole, but I suppose we all have our own priorities and really, I mean, if I try hard enough I’m sure I can find a way to blame this on Republicans, or at least just Americans in general.

The wild west has in short become a place where facts don’t really matter, and I find it pretty ironic that the people who did a lot of the groundwork changing the meaning of words are now upset that the other side it turns out is a lot better at it than they are. Politicians on the right in particular seem to have picked up on a valuable lesson: people are generally lazy, stupid, and emotional, and they forget things very, very quickly. What kind of weak-ass politician needs a platform or a budget anyway? Not Doug Ford, Ontario decided it hated Kathleen Wynne so all he had to do was not be her, which by the way he was very good at and as I’m sure he naturally assumed, people proceeded to vote with their feelings. But really who wants to be reminded that the Liberals broke an important promise to reform elections when you can just assume everybody else is stupid instead? How does a hipster even reconcile the fact that they think everybody outside of their city is a boorish hick with the fact that the most ethnically diverse province in the world just overwhelmingly voted for a conservative who again, didn’t even bother to bring a real platform or budget to the table? Literally a province where you can walk into a services center, declare yourself whatever gender you feel like (with no supporting documents, honestly) and be issued new official documents. I can’t buy whiskey after 6pm on a sunday if I need to forget how retarded everything became for a night, but if I decide I’m a woman now, well I guess you’re just transphobic if you don’t play along. Maybe if we just let people declare their own race, or spirit-animal, or food-kin or whatever, nobody would be ‘oppressed’ anymore? Maybe.

hotdogI dream of the day my birth certificate reflects the fact that I’m actually a lady hot dog trapped in a fat man’s body, but the west is literally a southern state in the 1800s.

I think the problem most people have is they don’t realize we’re already living in a post-facts society and that feels reign supreme. It’s actually been this way at least since World War II, and don’t you dare try to blame it on politicians. We, the people, wanted a lazy life of instant gratification as cheap as possible and we’re getting it, there is absolutely no evidence to the contrary. If you don’t mind rotting your brain a little, try watching a few ads (obligatory statement: if you work in marketing kill yourself), if you’re not a complete retard you might notice that marketers definitely think you are! Do actual ads even run anymore? I feel like whenever there’s an unskippable ad on youtube these days they’re selling me some bland, happy feeling that has nothing to do with anything and then a soda or car logo shits up the screen at the end. If I had a group of friends that started a drum circle and smiled and sang like brain-dead morons every time they had a carbonated drink I’d be seriously concerned with how hard they hit their heads. But really ads are just scraping the bottom of the barrel of life in a land where words have no meaning. Supporting a breast cancer ‘foundation’ or ‘gay rights’ doesn’t actually have anything to do with donating money or voting, it means buying shit with the right logos on it, like a fun scavenger hunt to find the rainbows and pink ribbons and pat yourself on the back for being such an amazing person; supporting your beliefs doesn’t actually mean attending rallies for people committing to change, donating your time, or even voting if you’re under 30, it means reposting literally every tweet Trump makes and adding your own witty remark (that you read on another site that does even that small amount of work for you) like some jilted fangirl; supporting charities for sick and homeless doesn’t mean actually being at a soup kitchen around those dirty, smelly drug-addicts, it doesn’t mean researching and supporting initiatives that help with your own personal time or money, it doesn’t mean sponsoring someone (who’s probably just going to rob you anyway) or even periodically feeding them – it means doing a fun run with your friends! It doesn’t really matter that at least 90% of your ‘donation’ is going to be swallowed by overhead costs for whatever company was smart enough to see a good marketing opportunity, you get a neat little water bottle with a rainbow – that’s the last checkmark on the scavenger hunt!

 

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.

weiner

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.

numale

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.