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Then DO NOT watch Oliver Stone's Untold History of the United States.

I consider myself reasonably "aware," at least more so than your average [American] monkey. But it turns out that I still hold a number of flat-out bullshit ideas about what America has done in the world since the outbreak of WW2, and what has driven America to its (now faltering) status as the sole "Superpower."

I was unsurprised but frustrated to learn that much of what I was taught in grade school about recent American History is, in fact, completely false. I had gathered through context clues while speaking with non-Americans online that America is not perceived as the "shining city on the hill" that we are told we are, and that we have in fact been behind a number of decidedly awful events on the world stage. But what I did not know was how intentional and callous our government's international (and domestic) behavior has been. It was my naive assumption that "difficult choices had to be made" and that throughout the Cold War we were fighting at least for something we believed in, even if we were misguided and short-sighted in the ways we chose to fight. But it turns out that no, almost nothing we have undertaken really has idealism or charity at its heart. America is, as much as any other empire in the history of the planet, completely and solely preoccupied with gaining and keeping power.

To be fair, the documentary does not really give "untold" history, as all of these facts are verified and easy to find if you are so inclined. And it does tend to lean heavily to the "Left," omitting huge amounts of negative information about the "other side," minimizing Soviet atrocities, and focusing heavily on the blunders and outrageous actions on America's part -- though I'm not sure how much of this is really "leaning Left" and how much of it is just "contradicts the American mythos." But the series does shed light on the backroom deals that shaped the world during and after the Second World War, and spends a lot of time grieving over the loss to our collective consciousness of would-be heroes like Henry Wallace. It effectively narrates America's path from relative international seclusion to almost absolute world domination through the actual decisions made by the actual people involved.

If you want an easy crash-course in What's Really Going On in the world, then watch it. But you'll lose every scrap of patriotism you have left in the process.

What do you say and/or do when a person is dealing with his spouse's suicide? I want to be supportive but just knowing it happened puts me in a weird shock.

http://bits.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/08/27/researcher-controls-another-persons-brain-over-the-internet/?_r=0

I can't think of a single negative thing that could possibly arise from the use of such technology. Not one.

So I open up my email this morning, and I see this from the CEO:

Dear Colleagues,
On Thursday and Friday this week, a team of your peers will gather offsite to establish our Values Blueprint. Our goal will be to define the values which [company name redacted] and its employees will embrace, and identify the specific behaviors that will bring those values to life. This is exciting and important work, and essential to completing what we began earlier this year by introducing our new name and our new brand. The essence of a company's brand begins with each and every employee, and having clarity about the values and the behaviors we all should emulate will help reinforce the strength of our brand in the marketplace, as well as significantly enhance our work environment.

Am I right to be slightly creeped out by the strongly "Corpwellian" language in this statement, or am I just seeing something that is now commonplace and safe to ignore?









*The phrase "full retard" is not intended to disparage or mock anyone who is living with a developmental disability.

we can tell because we have language. and art. and designer handbags.

this is comforting, because in the great scheme of things where things can go horrible at any moment, at least every one of us has won the genetic lottery and been born as a truly intelligent creature.

if you wish to maintain this belief and preserve this comfort, please do not click this link.

It's the 21st century, and it's the 1960s all over again, except this time without the hippies. We've built a Brave New World, and it's immune to satire.

TV ads and political party platforms are now self-parodies. The laws we pass would make anyone not brain-damaged and desensitized from actually living in this century laugh out loud at the sheer absurdity of it all.

What would the Principia Discordia have to say about this, if it had been written yesterday? Nothing, that's what. It would be a screenshot from the front page of Foxnews.com with the caption "Fuck it." Because we don't need biting commentary or a pope card these days. All I have to do is pick up a paper or look outside my living room window to see what should be timeless classics  in the "political horror" genre, coming to sickeningly real life in the Actual God Damned World instead.

"IN THE FUTURE, SHIT WILL BE SO BAD THAT THE GOVERNMENT WILL HAVE A STOOGE ON THE OTHER END OF EVERY PHONE CALL YOU MAKE! HA HA HA!"

"SOMEDAY, YOUR HOME COULD BE RAIDED BY A SWAT TEAM JUST FOR DOING A SUSPICIOUS SEARCH ON YOUR OWN COMPUTER! HA HA HA!"

"YOU'LL BE SO PREOCCUPIED THAT WE'LL BE FIGHTING TWO GODDAMN WARS AT ONCE, AND YOU'LL HARDLY EVEN NOTICE! HA HA HA!"

"AS A PUNISHMENT FOR BEING POOR, THEY'RE GOING TO MAKE YOU EVEN MORE POOR! HA HA HA!"

"MINORITIES WILL BE SO EQUAL, THEY'LL HAVE THEIR OWN ROOM IN EVERY T.S.A. AND BORDER PATROL CHECKPOINT! HA HA HA!"

That shit should have been comedy gold, man. Instead, it's "Tuesday." And "a religion masquerading as a joke" has now become thoroughly redundant, because the words "religion" and "joke" are now synonyms. Same goes for politics and joke, diet and joke, medicine and joke, and economy and joke. In fact, the word "joke" could, in a pinch, be used as a substitute for over 95% of the words in the English language today.

In short, fuck MAL2. He wasn't a pen name, and he didn't just write a book. He was clearly a master sorcerer and the architect of the Future We Actually Got. Whizzed right past Huxley and Orwell, and conjured an actual world where everything is simultaneously permitted, prohibited, and crazy.

I have an American living inside me. I believe (although official documents neither confirm nor deny) that he was installed there when I was born, because as far back as I can remember, he has been in there. Whispering, learning, reacting, tinkering with my thoughts. My Inner American changes with the times, you see. And lately he's been making a god awful racket. I don't know what he's up to, but I'm reasonably sure I won't like whatever it is he's building.

My Inner American has one of those old-fashioned oak desks, and he's parked it right behind my left eyeball, which he is always peeking out from, and writing down notes. He watches the News, so he knows where to build the walls and the fences to keep Those People out of there. He watches the TeeVee so he knows who to badmouth and who to praise. He writes all of this down on post-it notes, and then he plasters the inside of my brain with them.

He stands in the neural pathways of my brain like a school bully put on hall monitor duty to teach him Responsibility.

My Inner American is fat, of course. Not because he's not worried about his health, but because fuck you, I'll teach you to tell me what to eat, that's why. He is lazy, and even though he's got an entire gym in there with so many push-up-pull-up-curl-up-lift-up machines it looks like a medieval dungeon, he doesn't exercise. Mainly because somebody told him it was more important to buy things than to use them.

My Inner American doesn't ask questions. Well, some questions. "How much?" and "What's in it for me?" are high on his list of favorite  phrases, and he'll say them sometimes without even expecting an answer. But he doesn't ask dangerous questions. You know the ones. He stays away from those.

I read a psychology book once, and it talked about having an inner child, but never mentioned an Inner American. Maybe my Inner Child grew up to be that American guy in there. Or maybe he never grew up and he's just got a flag fixation. Whatever the case, he's driving me crazy. And I'll tell you why.

Every day, I roll through life looking for a meaningful moment or two. That's all I ask. Just to learn something or connect with someone, at least once a day. But every time I pick up a book, My Inner American is there, gets about halfway through a page, and starts yapping about Kim Kardashian. Every time it looks like I might be getting through to someone -- deconstructing some of the walls between us so we can really communicate -- that little fucker goes to work rebuilding that wall. Or "the dang fence" as he calls it.

I've sent him eviction notices, but they always get lost in the mail somehow. I'd have the Sheriff deliver it in person but, as you might guess, My Inner American is the Sheriff round these parts. Besides it wouldn't do any good. My Inner American is a litigious SOB, and would threaten a lawsuit anyway.

So I suppose I am stuck with him, at least for the time being. I've decided the best way to handle it is to build him a little stage (oh how he loves to show off), and pretend I'm at a comedy show. When you put him in that light, he becomes god damn hilarious. You should see him spout off about Immigrants and Terrorists, or The Gays, or who really shot JFK. It's a great act, and it always ends with fireworks.

I guess it isn't so had to have a little American inside, as long as I don't take it too seriously and start obeying him. Jesus, think of the consequences.

THOSE GUYS IN ANONYMOUS


THEY'RE FIGHTING FOR CHANGE

SEE HERE IS THEIR CHANGE FACTORY:


Edit:  Split from pics thread - Dok

It is often said that the wise are silent. Listeners. That they weigh the evidence before them, before calmly -- and collectively -- reach a level-headed decision. They don't jump to conclusions. They don't put their feet in their mouths. They toe the line. They always keep one eye on themselves and one eye on the world around them, so they know when and how to act.

It was this wisdom, we are told, that built the Pyramids and the Eiffel Tower. It was wise men and women -- well, mostly wise men -- who knew what to do when the Plague struck down a third of Europe. These men who knew how to respond and what to expect when the Twin Towers fell. Wise people. Brave people. Loud, wise, silent people.

So, of course, we are told to be wise as well. To achieve Great Things, and appreciate Small Things. To listen. To be silent. We are encourage to achieve wonders by being meek. Because all the great people in history started out "small," too.

"The greatest instructor is the greatest student," We are told. "Approach knowledge with no preconditions, soak in the learning like a sponge! We promised the classroom is clean, and you're safe in here just as long as you remember where the fire exits are and what your hall monitor job is in the event of an active shooter."

This is all bullshit, and therefore, we endorse it completely. I mean, shit. You gotta "believe" something, right? Might as well be this! Fuck it! What do we care? It gives you an ethos, keeps you from wandering around the planet stabbing and shooting things (well, hold on. Unless they deserve it. Then it's OK.) You get to completely ignore the whole "what the fuck is actually happening around me" thing, and everybody else does so fuck, why not you too? Right? So yeah. If you want to believe that what the fuck do we care. You go right ahead and do that until you turn blue in the soul.

ANYWAY...

Here's the problem.

That story up there? Yeah, it's bullshit, I know we told you already but listen, you half-spilled bag of turds, that story was concocted and propagated by exactly the same assholes who are now teaching you to accept what you've been given in life because of all those people who have it worse. And while your entire lifetime earning potential is being quite literally GAMBLED AWAY on Wall Street as if you were last Tuesday's minor league softball match, you're getting a ph.D in the god damn history of the cracks in Mona Lisa's paint.

And they're not exactly hiding these days. They are in front of you all the fucking time reminding you who you are and what you believe, what you're worth and who you owe. Every day you live is a day you make them money, and on the day you die you'll make them money too. AND THEY WON'T EVEN NOTICE YOU.

Nobody's asking you to save the world and we're certainly not asking you to be uninformed. All we're asking is for you to

WAKE
THE FUCK
UP

[On Purpose.]

It is often said that the wise are silent. Listeners. That they weigh the evidence before them, before calmly -- and collectively -- reach a level-headed decision. They don't jump to conclusions. They don't put their feet in their mouths. They toe the line. They always keep one eye on themselves and one eye on the world around them, so they know when and how to act.

It was this wisdom, we are told, that built the Pyramids and the Eiffel Tower. It was wise men and women -- well, mostly wise men -- who knew what to do when the Plague struck down a third of Europe. These men who knew how to respond and what to expect when the Twin Towers fell. Wise people. Brave people. Loud, wise, silent people.

So, of course, we are told to be wise as well. To achieve Great Things, and appreciate Small Things. To listen. To be silent. We are encourage to achieve wonders by being meek. Because all the great people in history started out "small," too.

"The Greatest Teacher was also the Greatest King! Jesus Christ could have saved the entire planet with less than the snap of his little finger, and he's coming back from the Sky someday to BEAT UP ALL THOSE MEAN OLD PEOPLE WHO KEEP A-BUGGIN' YOU. But despite His great power, he just decided to get nailed to a fucking tree stump instead. On Purpose." We are told.

This is all bullshit, and therefore, we endorse it completely. I mean, shit. You gotta "believe" something, right? Might as well be this! Fuck it! What do we care? It gives you an ethos, keeps you from wandering around the planet stabbing and shooting things (well, hold on. Unless they deserve it. Then it's OK.) You get to completely ignore the whole "what the fuck is actually happening around me" thing, and everybody else does so fuck, why not you too? Right? So yeah. If you want to believe that what the fuck do we care. You go right ahead and do that until you turn blue in the soul.

ANYWAY...

Here's the problem.

That story up there? Yeah, it's bullshit, I know we told you already but listen, you half-spilled bag of turds, that story was concocted and propogated by exactly the same assholes who are now telling you to ignore the old man behind the curtain -- and the child under his frock. They will talk for hours on end about how rigtheous you are for doing the Right Thing all the god damn time, while they're colluding about who to hate next.

And they're not exactly hiding these days. They are in front of you all the fucking time reminding you who you are and what you believe, and what'll happen if you DON'T, by Gosh. But while you're all so busy keeping each other in line, they're controlling what our children see and hear, they're literally punishing people for being who they are, and they're getting us all to hate anyone who wants a better lot in life.

Nobody's asking you to save the world. Nobody's asking you to crucify you. All we're asking is for you to

WAKE
THE FUCK
UP

It is often said that the wise are silent. Listeners. That they weigh the evidence before them, before calmly -- and collectively -- reach a level-headed decision. They don't jump to conclusions. They don't put their feet in their mouths. They toe the line. They always keep one eye on themselves and one eye on the world around them, so they know when and how to act.

It was this wisdom, we are told, that built the Pyramids and the Eiffel Tower. It was wise men and women -- well, mostly wise men -- who knew what to do when the Plague struck down a third of Europe. These men who knew how to respond and what to expect when the Twin Towers fell. Wise people. Brave people. Loud, wise, silent people.

So, of course, we are told to be wise as well. To achieve Great Things, and appreciate Small Things. To listen. To be silent. We are encourage to achieve wonders by being meek. Because all the great people in history started out "small," too.

"Abraham Lincoln invented Tic-Tac-Toe while teaching himself how to write 15 different languages on the back of a shovel. So you be like Abe! You be poor!" We are told.

This is all bullshit, and therefore, we endorse it completely. I mean, shit. You gotta "believe" something, right? Might as well be this! Fuck it! What do we care? It gives you an ethos, keeps you from wandering around the planet stabbing and shooting things (well, hold on. Unless they deserve it. Then it's OK.) You get to completely ignore the whole "what the fuck is actually happening around me" thing, and everybody else does so fuck, why not you too? Right? So yeah. If you want to believe that what the fuck do we care. You go right ahead and do that until you turn blue in the soul.

ANYWAY...

Here's the problem.

That story up there? Yeah, it's bullshit, I know we told you already but listen, you half-spilled bag of turds, that story was concocted and propogated by exactly the same assholes who are now telling you that genetically modified food is good for you, being spied on constantly by your government is "for your own good," that the government can be as secret as it wants to be but you can't even drive a fucking car with window tint any more resilient that that thin film of bullshit "protective wax" you get at the car wash for an extra three bucks. They're absolutely fucking with us (you know, us, the world out here), and they're getting away with it because you want to fucking believe America is God Damn "Special."

And they're not exactly hiding these days. They are in front of you all the fucking time reminding you who you are and what you believe. Meanwhile, when they're not on a talk show or a news broadcast, they're literally mowing down the Entire Fucking Planet.

Nobody's asking you to save the world. Nobody's asking you to take a bullet. All we're asking is for you to

WAKE
THE FUCK
UP

A rant about one man's quest to find a fucking cup of coffee in New York at 11:30 PM.

So I'm in NYC. PARTYING HARD, naturally. This is the BIG APPLE. The City that Never Sleeps. Oh, shit look at the time. 11:30 PM! I better refuel so I can keep Never Sleeping and all. How about some coffee! I'll just go whip some up in the hotel room.

Oh fuck! This hotel room features literally ZERO coffee makers! That's weird, because every god damn hotel room I've ever stayed in, even in shitty podunk places in god-forsaken Wyoming have coffee makers. Oh well, there must be some brewing downstairs.

Oh wait! I forgot, this hotel isn't any normal hotel. This place seems to think it's a fucking night club. Some rip-off of Ace of Base is attacking me in the elevator, and when I get downstairs I remember that there is no coffee up in this biotch at all. It's fucking wall-to-wall hipsters. Coffee is for corporate STOOGES, man. I'm supposed to go into one of the three or so built-in scene bars here, mingle with these bespectacled, fedora-clad fucksticks with elbow patches, smell their shitty cologne, and pay $27 for a weak ass, non-coffee-based mixed drink so I can look like I was drinking shitty alcohol before it was even cool.

Well... fuck that. I'm going outside. This is the City that Never Sleeps. I'll just go find a Starbucks. Fuck you, hipsters.

Hmm. Three blocks down and counting. I've passed no fewer than 5 Starbucks now, along with a 2,000 or so other shops, and apparently not only does New York, in fact, sleep, it  at passes out behind the wheel at like 7 god-damn PM. And I'm not really asking for a whole lot here. It's 11:30 PM on a Tuesday, and I'd like a cup of coffee. How fucking WEIRD, I guess.

What the fuck kind of international city closes all the coffee shops at 10PM. The fucked up kind, that's what. You people need to take a few cues from real towns like Tokyo and Tucson, where no matter what else may or may not be going down, you can always find a fucking cup of joe.

6:38 AM: Woke up 7 minutes before the alarm goes off. Awesome! As a reward, I will allow myself to sleep until that alarm rings.

7:53 AM: Woke up again. Shit, supposed to be at work by 8. Fuck.

7:57 AM: Hotel lobby. Of course there's a line at the coffee machine. Oh well, I'm going to be late anyway, fuck it I'll wait.

8:05 AM: Ran down the stairs, swiped the MetroCard 6 times (oh good, looks like it's gonna be a banner day for technology!) and arrived at the platform in time to catch a glimpse of the train as it disappeared down the tunnel. Another 5 minute wait, oh well.

8:10 AM: Coffee on pants. Eh. Whatever.

8:25 AM: Arrive at the office. People are running around yelling and waving their arms, like one of those Simpsons episodes where they run out of ideas halfway through the script. "NETWORK IS DOWN OMG WHAT WILL WE DO!?" Nevermind that I informed them the network would be down until at least 8:45 this morning. Everything is on schedule despite my sleeping late... but these people do not seem to notice.

9:07 AM: Network finally back online. GO GO GO! Hit the spreadsheets, everyone! I'm going to find a Starbucks.

9:30 AM: CEO says "ARRGH WHAT ABOUT MY PRINTER?" It doesn't work with the new system, I'm sorry you're inconvenienced. I'll go downstairs and buy one at Staples.

9:35 AM: Staples does not sell printers at this location. Walking to nearest suitable store.

10:00 AM: Arrived back at the office with the new printer. Replace old printer. Set up new one. Fuck with network wires and find THIS behind the CEO's desk:

Well, looks like I found out why this place is plagued with so many issues...

10:30 AM: [Warning: technical] The Juniper guy says he's ready to apply the new network configuration so IP phones will work. Okay, I say, go ahead and do it. Five seconds later the whole network goes dark and there's a throng of angry villagers outside the server room door with pitchforks and torches, crying out for someone's head. I try to hold them off, but I can't. I throw the intern at them and let them work him over for a while, as I curse the Juniper guy over a staticky cell phone connection. He doesn't seem to understand that in a network, there are "routers" and "switches" for a reason. Routers route, and switches switch. He wants to make the switch do the routing. I call him a filthy carpetbagger from Texas, tell him to pack up his Trans-Am and go back to the trailer park where nobody cares about the proper way to build a network. He ends the phone call politely.

12:00 PM: Fuck this, the network is still down, but it's lunch time. This company needs to know what it means to be owned by a rag-tag bunch of ex-educators from Arizona, and they'll never be properly familiarized if we don't inconvenience them.

I am surrounded by imbeciles.

It's too early to start drinking.

....

Most of the time, I feel like I should rate "fair to average" in the "Parenting Skills" category. I mean, I play with my kids, I try to help them maintain their innocence and wonder, I try to teach them awesome science whenever possible, but I also snap and bark at them like the idiot monkey I am, sometimes when I play with them I'm doing it out of obligation and not because I really want to, and in general I am consciously aware of a few things I could and should improve about my parenting, so there must be quite a few things I'm failing at and don't realize.

So, given that, I would expect my kids to be "fair to average" in the smarts-and-behavior category, but that isn't what happens. Compared to the 10 or so neighborhood kids that are always breezing through our house (apparently ours is the only kid-friendly house out of all of them), my two children are light years ahead of the rest in just about every category. This makes me wonder:

IF I CAN DO IT, WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH THE REST OF THESE PARENTS OUT THERE?

I mean, how motherfucking hard is it to raise kids who
- Don't steal things
- Don't lie
- Get to eat reasonably healthy food at reasonably predictable intervals*
- Know how to share while also respecting the property of others
- Don't play the "do it my way or I'm going home" game
- etc.

I am not a rock star, and neither is my wife. We don't make a ton of money. We don't hire nannies and tutors. We just understand how to put the kids' needs ahead of our own desires, which seems to be a skill nobody knows anymore. What I don't understand is nobody taught us that skill -- not our parents, not the schools -- it just seems to be the natural order of things, so it doesn't seem like that much of a sacrifice. But if WE can do this, 90% by instinct and the other 10% by failing hard the first time and trying a different approach, why are we in what appears to be such a tiny minority of parents?

But these other kids who come over here, apparently at their houses, they never eat anything, they aren't expected to be civilized, they can take things without asking, they prefer to scream and kick and punch rather than discuss things, and yet their parents are "strict" and "don't allow us to do nothing." I don't understand.




* Seriously, my kids' doctor was actually surprised at their recent check-up that neither of them were anemic. Apparently, being anemic due to under-eating in general or overeating junk food is now considered "average." WHAT THE FUCK AMERICA?

And there are a few points I'd like to make with regards to STICKING IT TO THE MAN™.


When you go out there and you don't take any shit, don't succumb to the temptation that you're being an "asshole." Remember, folks, those fuckers started the war. Every weird, disobedient act; every word you say or write that flies in the face of the Status Quo; is retaliation, not just "rocking the boat."

You can't walk down the street without being stuck in a photo or video at least five times.

You can't find a job doing what you love, if you expect to be anything but broke most of the time.

You can't drive on the highways without some goose-stepping bag of dicks making sure you're supposed to be.

You can't SPEAK UP.

You can't ACT OUT.

You can't clothe or feed yourself without benefiting DIRECTLY FROM ACTUAL HONEST-TO-FUCK SLAVERY.

You can't be YOURSELF, unless you define yourself by what you see on the TEEVEE or in the movies.

You can't RAISE A GOD DAMNED RUCKUS, even way out in the desert with nobody around, without risking incarceration.

You think this is the way things are supposed to be? NO? Did YOU make things this way? NO? So don't fall into the trap of thinking YOU'RE the one who's out of line when you do any of these things ANYWAY.

If this is a war, it's THEIR WAR. If this is a crime, it's THEIR CRIME. If this is a revolution, THEY'RE THE ONES WHO STARTED IT.

GENESIS 1

Prior to and in anticipation of present market opportunities, the Chief Executive designed a universal system by which both celestial and terrestrial holdings should operate. At that time, this system had not yet been fully realized, lacking both clear definition and direction, but the Chief Executive was fully committed to seeing the project through.

Persuant to the Original Charter, the Chief Executive issued a companywide memorandum establishing the policy of illumination, and the Company achieved positive first-quarter illumination results. The Chief Executive inspected the progress, approved it, and set forth operating rules governing the traversal from illumination to de-illumination and back again. This was the first Work Day.

On the second day, the Chief Executive issued a memorandum establishing a division between the liquid assets of the Employees and the liquid assets of the Executive Team. The Chief Executive called this division "The Corporate Hierarchy." And then the Chief Executive structured the liquid assets of the Employees such that they constituted a single pool, and aroud this pool were established a bank of cubicles and conference rooms. The pool of liquid assets were called the "Compensation Package," and the cubicles and conference rooms were called "Production."

On the third day of the Original Charter, the Chief Exeutive provided the Production department with dry erase boards and markers, legal tablets, cheap pens, warehouses full of copy paper, printers, and staplers.

On the fourth day, the Chief Executive sent out a team who installed flourescent lighting above the cubicles, which were to be switched on at 0600 sharp every day, so that the employees could produce.

On the fifth day, the Chief Executive began the hiring process to populate the Production department. Titles were created for every position: secretaries, concept coaches, and an array of project organizers and product owners. The Accountanting Department was created to oversee the Compensation Package.

Then, on the sixth day, the Chief Executive issued Memorandum 00764, saying "Let us create Middle Management: let the Middle Managers follow the Executive Dress Code; let them have dominion over as little as possible, zero advancement opportunity, and a larger than reasonable share of perceived responsibility for the health of the Company." And, so, Middle Management was created, and the Chief Executve held a Management Meeting and announced the first Weekend, which was to be a day of rest and respite. Naturally, all Employees and the Middle Management Team were expected to be at the office half an hour early to prepare for and maintain the forward momentum of the Company's plan to enhance the deliverability of its core product line.

On the seventh day, the Chief Executive played golf.

Yes! That's what it looks like. The White House is now its very own Shitty Internet Meme machine. I'm used to seeing this for TV shows going down the shitter, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised, given that politics in America (and throughout the rest of the world for that matter) is not only full of bad acting and bad writing, but has apparently entered syndication as reruns.

While throngs of basement-dwelling science fiction nerds everywhere are hiding their faces in their stormtrooper helmets and shitting frustration all over the Internet at Obama's mix up of two sci-fi religions, the White House public relations department has decided that HAHA LET'S MAKE IT A JOKE LOL is good policy. Now, politically, I don't really know if it's good policy or not. Maybe it is. Maybe they'll score a couple of points among the "Maybe I'll vote for Hillary instead of Darth Vader as usual in 2016" demographic. Maybe not.

Either way what we have here is flagrant boasting that the capacity of the Internet to mock and deride our insufferable leaders in humorous format is no longer a threat, if it ever was one. These assholes now speak the native language of the average Internet cynic. They've cracked the code. I'd say that, based on the fact that it is not in fact funny or clever at all, there is still a chance. But no, all of the comments accompanying this image are, of course, completely along the lines of "Shut up you liberal stooge" and "Republicans just want poor people to pay for the lifestyle of the rich." So, mission accomplished, I guess.

COUNTRY OVER, INTERNET OVER.

CASE #1: SHELBY COUNTY, ALABAMA v. ERIC HOLDER, JR., ATTORNEY GENERAL
Link: http://www.supremecourt.gov/Search.aspx?FileName=/docketfiles/12-96.htm

SUMMARY:

Shelby County, Alabama, would like SCOTUS to scrap a provision of the Civil Rights Act of 1965 which requires jurisdictions with a history of institutional racial discrimination to submit all changes to voting laws and district boundaries to the US Department of Justice for approval.

PLAINTIFF: BACKWOODS HICKS AND HILLBILLIES OF ALABAMA, ET. AL.
DEFENDANT: RATIONAL BIPEDS TRYING TO GET YOU DICKS TO GET WITH THE PROGRAM

COURT'S DECISION FOLLOWS

The Court finds that this suit is kind of ridiculous. Alabama's argument is well summarized by their closing argument, which the Court quotes below:

"We done real good lately, y'all. It's high time we put this hootin' and hollerin' back yonder where it belongs in the Hist'ry Books, an' git on with Der Future! Please don't make us talk to no more fancy Yankees from up North, 'bout our own internal-like affairs and such. We admit we done did a bad thang back in the 60s and whatever, but ain't nobody down here done nothin' wrong in a long time and we think we deserve congratulations, not no more o' you steerin' down yer noses at us. It's uncivilizedlike and a violation of our State Sovereignty, and robs us of our nat'ral Southern Charm and Dignity."

Allowing for the fact that most Alabama lawyers are toothless and illiterate, the Court finds this argument surprisingly succinct and and eloquent. However, it must be noted that the Civil Rights Act of 1965 already has a provision for removing a jurisdiction from the watchful eye of the Justice Department. All such a jurisdiction must do is show for 10 years that they have not engaged in racially discriminatory behavior when drawing district boundaries or enacting or enforcing laws which apply to voting, voter registration, or other participation in the voting system. This is reasonable, since in a 10 year span there are usually no more than SIX years where voting actually takes place, and sometimes FOUR years. So, asking a jurisdiction to put on a good show for an average of HALF THE TIME isn't really asking a lot.

Also, the Court notes that Shelby County is asking the Court to invalidate this provision on grounds that it is Unconstitutional -- indeed the Court has no other authority over laws -- but Shelby County is not arguing that the law is unconstitutional, only that it is "outdated" and that they have "outgrown" their need to be watched by the Federal Government. Well, Alabama may or may not be aware of this, but the government already has an institution designed specifically to deal with the problem of outdated laws: THE FUCKING LEGISLATURE.

It is therefore the view of this Court that Shelby County is only trying to do an end-run around the proper system for achieving what they want, since if they asked lawmakers to change the law on their behalf, they'd have to make a more public case for it. And anyone involved in that process would say "LOL SHELBY COUNTY ALABAMA IS SO OVER RACISM, UH-HUH" and their efforts would be in vain.

In view of these findings, the Court hereby decrees that not only shall the Civil Rights Act of 1965 be maintained in its current form, but that all the provisions of Reconstruction which were in effect from 1865 until 1877 shall be indefinitely reactivated in the entire State of Alabama.

ANYONE ELSE WANT TO TRY?

XOXOXOXOX
SCOTUS

SELF-EXPLANATORY.

1. Fuck government agencies and services that refer to me as a "Customer" or a "Client." Fuck you. I am not a customer, and you are not a business. This kind of shit is perverse. It leads to people thinking that government should be run like a business, which is bullshit. And it removes a person's sense of civic duty and participation. If I'm just a "Customer," then the only time I should be interested in what the government is doing is when I am buying something from it, and that's also bullshit.

2. For fuck's sake, would the politicians please get a grip on themselves? Look, I understand that being reelected is the only thing they're concerned about. Fixing big problems is risky, and it's hard work, and the political class has evolved a genetic aversion to doing anything difficult. But if they're going to beat around the bush on every little god damned thing, they could at least try to hide the pageantry and posturing.

3. Sheriff Joe Arpaio. That's all.

4. Arizona's state legislature is trying to craft a bill that would throw federal officials in jail for trying to enforce any kind of gun control legislation within AZ borders. Because "State Sovereignty," of course. 10th AMENDMENT! RAH! But they are also wringing their hands and scouring through piles of legal books and judicial precedent, trying to discover new and interesting ways to acquiesce to more and more obscure federal authority on the subject of medical marijuana. Which is weird, because I thought they believed in state sovereignty. Huh.

5. Why is the Full Faith and Credit clause not applicable to marriage rights? I'm sure there's a train full of reasons, but it smells like bullshit to me.

[HEY.YOU.]

HEY.
YOU.
I know something you don't know.

Want to know what it is?

It's TOP SECRET. They don't trust you with it.

But I do.
I'd trust you with anything.

Who am I?
That doesn't really matter, does it?

I mean, who are you?

You're NOBODY.
That's who you are.

Me? I'm everything that has ever happened. I'm four billion years of biological evolution on this planet. I'm everything your parents ever told you to scare you straight. I'm a long succession of self-obsessed politicians and megalomaniac rulers. I'm the Holocaust and everything unfair that ever happened to anyone.

I'm your dreams.

I'm unicorns.

I'm whatever keeps you from driving off the I-19 interchange on your way to work, just to see if you could take any of those dumb fuckers with you when you go.

I am every single lingering moment that has ever been etched into the surface of this dying marble you call a planet.

I AM THE COSMOS.

And I have something to give you, because I'm done with it now.

I've spent eons orchestrating every God-damned little nuance in this trainwreck of a universe, and I'm out of ideas.

So here. Take it.
TAKE THE NEXT MOMENT IN HISTORY.
You decide what to do with it.

Fighting the Man™ is hard work. It's thirsty work, too, and my liver has had enough abuse, thank you very much. It's time-consuming. And these days, who the hell has time to stand out? Work, food, sleep, work, food, sleep, it goes on and on. It's hard enough to find time for Slack, let alone fighting the power. I'm busy. I'm old. I'm tired. I just want to fade out and blend in, man. I tuned in. I dropped out. I built a wall between me and everything I could reach. And I want back in, God dammit. I just want to go with the flow.

There's just one problem.

I CAN'T FUCKING STAND THESE APES. I'm talking to you, you ignorant fuck who holds your cell phone like it's a walkie-talkie. FUCK YOU. That isn't how you use that overpriced piece of modern convenience. It's a fucking phone. Hold it like one.

And wipe that dumb-shit grin off your face, you smarmy modern-age snake-oil pushing fuckbucket. Stop calling me a "healthcare consumer." I am not in the healthcare market looking for deals, you ass. I'm a human being with hypertension and I deserve pills, because I'm a fucking time bomb, and you're not helping with your corporate-speak growing all over my language.

The same goes for all those chimps trying to sell me absolutely nothing at all, and calling it a "product." Even athletes call their performance "our product." Fuck you. A product is a thing. It fits in a box, and it's on sale through next Thursday. What YOU sell is entertainment, or maybe financial chicanery. Not products. Products are built by people, and then they get sold, and then they last a while. They can even be resold, sometimes for a profit.

I wish I could quiet down and sit in my spot like a good monkey. I really, really want to. I don't want to fight. But you knobs aren't making that very easy, are you? No. You're not. There's a fundamental disconnect between me and you. I'm incompatible with the operating system your fucked up society is running. I'm like a Commodore 64 game trying to fit into your CD-ROM. I don't compute for you, and you don't compute for me.

So I have no choice, do I? And that's ironic, given that our modern age is defined by nothing, if not the appearance of ten thousand choices competing for my attention. It's even more ironic given that all I ever wanted was one thing: A quiet life, free from assholes. And wouldn't you know, that's the one thing I never see a fucking commercial for.

It's full of Romney supporters who also work in public education (which is oxymoronic, but don't let that stop them). My job is to take the blame for any technical issues.

This is going to be a fun day for me.

So there is this guy named Cookie, and he has a talent. A gift, really. He is a practitioner of some kind of horrible black magic whereby he can take a train wreck and dissolve it into some watermelon juice. And it tastes perfectly harmless. It is not harmless. It crushes your soul.

Happy birthday Roger!

Please sign your name, noting the date and time, in this thread when you flounce. Also, if you un-flounce, please check back in here. This will help us keep track.

PDF

From bugging your wife with screenshots of his flight simulator game, depicting UFO encounters over your house?




*by accident

The Founding Fathers get an E for effort, but I think they were aiming a little too high, and times have changed. I propose we amend the Constitution to toss out the rights we no longer care about and replace them with rights that are more compatible with Today's America™.

I. Freedom from any information that is uncomfortable or incompatible with our worldview.

II. The right to forget that we will die someday, and to impose our method of forgetting on anyone who looks like they might remind us.

III. The right to hate _________, and to spread and enforce that hate. Congress and the Media shall have the power to fill in the blank as necessary.

IV. The right to receive cheap entertainment through glowing boxes of whatever size we choose.

V. The right to eat right out of a hog trough if we want to, without some nosy asshole telling us it's unhealthy. Also, freedom to put cheese on everything.

VI. The right to clap and sing in unison, and to deride and discriminate against those who don't. All. Day. Every. Day.

VII. The right to imagine every gay man's asshole is our own asshole, and to protect it from penetration at all costs. When we aren't too busy enjoying imagining it.

BECAUSE BARACK OBAMA IS SUCH A MISERABLE FAILURE*, I am unable to pay for proper medical insurance for my child. It is very important that you do not judge me. This is why I am asking YOU PEOPLE instead of a doctor. So here is the series of events that has led to this topic:

Last week, about Thursday, my 6 year old received a blessing from Jesus in the form of about 20 (what appeared to be) mosquito bites, on his lower legs. These itched, so we treated them with anti itch cream, and lo, the clouds receded, and the good lord removed the itch.

Friday night came, and a few (but not all) of these "mosquito bites" developed some minor bruising, probably from my child's vigorous application of his fingernails, but no broken skin. We marked the bruises to make sure they didn't grow, but by yesterday the bruising was all gone. So, you'd think things would be better.

BUT OH NO. Today, my child has received fresh mosquito bites, and in addition both of his feet have decided to swell up. Also, the kid refuses to stand up or walk, because such activity causes him intense pain in his feet.

The pain is relieved by a warm bath. There is no discoloration of the inflamed areas. He has a history of not getting along well with mosquitos (if stung in the face, he inflates to roughly the size of the Goodyear Blimp, albeit without any pain associated with the swelling). He has no fever, and no swelling anywhere but in his feet. He is well nourished, not overweight, but he is given to freaking out when he thinks something is going to be awful, which might be influencing how bad he claims the pain is. Oddly, not a single one of the other 3 people in this house show any insect bites of any kind.

Please, for the sake of my sanity, try to minimize responses such as "Holy shit you're a terrible parent, get him to the ER right now, don't worry about paying because Mitt Romney says that's free, anyway."








* Not really, but I'm gonna blame him anyway because that's what Americans do when things don't go their way.

This thread is not necessarily for discussion. There's a lot of creative shit going on at PD right now and I'm using this thread to keep track of it. A lot of this is stuff I really want to get into or take farther but by the time my brain is up to it it could buried somewhere on page 25.

THE MASK THING

   
• http://www.principiadiscordia.com/forum/index.php/topic,33530.0.html
• http://www.principiadiscordia.com/forum/index.php/topic,33540.0.html

TEABAGGER JESUS

   
• http://www.principiadiscordia.com/forum/index.php/topic,33551.0.html
• http://www.principiadiscordia.com/forum/index.php/topic,33388.0.html

PD COLLECTIVE INTROSPECTION

   
• http://www.principiadiscordia.com/forum/index.php/topic,33513.0.html
• http://www.principiadiscordia.com/forum/index.php/topic,33546.0.html
• http://www.principiadiscordia.com/forum/index.php/topic,33500.0.html
• http://www.principiadiscordia.com/forum/index.php/topic,33492.0.html

There's probably more.

16. And lo, a man came up out of the crowd and asked Teabagger Jesus, "Lord, what shall be done about the filthy rich bastard who lives up on the mountain? Shall he pay taxes, that we can have food and shelter, and that we may visit the Doctor when we are ill?"  Teabagger Jesus frowned, for he was displeased with this line of reasoning, and said unto the man:
17. O thou selfish fool! Cast not thine eyes upon the riches of other men, to take them for yourself, for their riches are their own. If thou disirest riches, thou mayest surely obtain them by hard work and sacrifice. Let thine own hands build up thy 401(k), and let not others steal from the Job Creators to make thee more financially secure, lest once thou hast riches, they steal from thee.
18. But the man was not satisfied with this answer, and asked Teabagger Jesus again, saying, "But O Lord! There are no jobs in the land, and the people starve! How shall we gain riches with work, when there is no work?"
19 And Jesus, hating sorely when his talking points were tested, spat at the man and rebuked him, saying, Didst thou not hear me, Satan? The rich man createth the jobs, and the poor man worketh them. If thou hast no jobs, it is surely because the rich man is not rich enough! Verily I say unto thee, empty thy pockets of what lint and stones thou might have, and render it unto the rich man as an offering, and have thy entire village do the same. In this way, the rich man may gain enough wealth to create jobs. Raise thine own taxes and lower the rich man's taxes, so that in his joy he shall have mercy on thee. If this answer doeth nothing to please thee, then vote for Obama, thou Socialist.
20. And the multitude, hearing the word Socialist, did rise up and stone the man to death.

http://www.buzzfeed.com/koolnewsblog/north-dakota-woman-thinks-deer-crossings-are-cross-1dgl

I just... I don't...

This is going to be terrible.

I'm sitting here trying to put out some kind of "quality" writing. But, wherever I go, there are WORDS within earshot.

TV. Pop Music. Radio. Talk shows. PEOPLE. TALK TALK TALK WORDSWORDS WORDS BLAHBLAH BLAH BLAHBLAHBLAH!!



Fuck!

Am I the only one who has noticed that people have this weird need to OH MY FUCKING GOD A SILENT MOMENT FUCK FUCK FUCK MUST FILL IT WITH WORDS NEED WORDS FUCKING WORDS FUCK FUCK FUCK CAN'T HAVE SILENCE OH FUCK SILENCE MEANS SOMETHING IS WRONG


Every single moment MUST be filled with WORDS!


WHY

[ERIS.]

LISTEN UP YOU FUCKING SPAGS
Your bastard religion, born of a drunk man and his (probably gay*) bowling mate, has spent way too much time diddling itself in the corner, fantasizing about useless bollocks. It's time for you neo-postmodernists to awake from your unholy funk and grow up like REAL religions. And that means dispensing with all this "in some sense" bullshit. It's time to decide what is true, declare it, and then start telling people to believe it or else.

To that end, I have codified the Discordian Pantheon. This way, you know to whom you must pray, whom you must fear; whom to avoid, and whom to emulate. All REAL religions have this, so it stands to reason that this shitbag you call a "philosophy" must have it as well.

KNOW YE THIS, O MAN OF FAITH (yeah, that's lifted: fuck you)

1. ERIS. Eris may or may not be real; it doesn't matter. Eris is just a figment of your imagination: Therefore only those with an imagination can claim to know Eris. But that doesn't mean any random unimaginative schmuck "can't be a Discordian." It only means that he is a Discordian by accident, and that's just as good. So the first rule of this Pantheon is you must stop fucking talking about Eris (if you do).

2. THE SAINTS. HEAVEN IS POPULATED BY ASSHOLES. Like the twinkling stars of the constellations, Discordian Saints reside far above you so they can see when you masturbate, because most of them are lecherous old men and that's what they like to watch. Every act of self-pleasure is therefore an homage to the Saints. IMPORTANT: When writing about these Saints it is IMPERITIVE that you include the phrase "Peace Be Upon Her" after every mention of the name, regardless of gender and especially for G.W. Bush. THESE SAINTS IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER ARE:

   
• ROBERT ANTON WILSON (grandfathered in -- if he was starting out today, he'd never make it.)
• KERRY THORNLEY (anyone who wasn't officially involved in the JFK assassination is OK in our book.)
• YOUR FAVORITE GRANDMOTHER
• THE FEW UNCLES YOU MAY HAVE HAD WHO DID NOT TOUCH YOUR DANGLY BITS
• MOTHER THERESA (obligatory)
• GEORGE WALKER BUSH (accidental Saint; has the honor of being the only LIVING Discordian Saint.)
• ANY OTHER PERSON YOU WANT, SO LONG AS THEY ARE DEAD.

3. THE JUNIOR SAINTS OR "DEMI-GODS." These are the LIVING SAINTS (except for GW Bush) who grace us with their fucking god-awful presence as often as they possibly can. They have EARNED this title either by creating something neat, or by the sheer volume of acidic flatulence which rains from their asses like manna from Heaven. THIS STATUS IS BOTH A BLESSING AND A CURSE, as their words are often mistaken for INERRANT SCRIPTURE, even when they don't mean what they're saying (which may be most of the time, for all we know).

   
• THE GOOD REVEREND ROGER (AND CO.)
• THE NIGEL
• HIRLEY0
• CRAMULUS (status updated. see below.)
• ANYONE ELSE ON PD WITH A POST COUNT HIGHER THAN 10,000. (this is here so I can include myself.)

4. CRAMULUS, who was once a Junior Saint, but who has forsaken Our World (PD) and gone to mingle with the heathens in the Book of Twisted Faces. He gets his own category because WE ARE NICE PEOPLE and we don't want to lump him in with Category 5.


5. THE HALL OF ASSBURGERS. All GREAT RELIGIONS have a Hell of some kind, and DISCORDIANISM MUST BE NO DIFFERENT. The Hall of Assbugers is where you go when you DIE (or become dead to us), to suffer for eternity among people who DO NOT GIVE A SINGLE FUCK HOW SPECIAL YOU ARE. Here are the names of these fools: Beware lest we cast you out among them!

   
• AKK (duh)
• POPTARD
• OTHERS WHOSE NAMES I FORGET BECAUSE I DON'T FUCKING CARE WHO THEY ARE.
• Most Likely, YOU. You fucking dirtbag.

PUBLISH THIS DOCUMENT FAR AND WIDE, AND LET IT BE KNOWN THAT DISCORDIANISM HAS FINALLY ACHIEVED THAT VAUNTED STATUS OF "ORGANIZED RELIGION." PRINT TRACTS. GO ON TALK SHOWS. ELECT DISCORDIAN POLITICIANS. KNOCK ON DOORS. CRASH PARTIES.

Where do you go every time Friday rolls around? Do you spend so much of your work week spamming up the Internads that when it gets to the afternoon hours on Friday, you're left frantically cramming everything you should have got done into the four or five hours you have left in the week? Do you check out early, and hit the mall for some Bullshit™ so you can feel "normal" and recharge for the next week?

Where do you go? Do you sit down in front of the tell-ya-vision and receive your weekly digital communion? Or, maybe you just check out of the Whole Damn Thing until Monday morning, and cower under your bedsheets, repeating to yourself that somehow, by the power of some benevolent deity, you'll fall asleep and never wake up again?

Do you join Occupy for two and a half days of empty gestures and pointless posturing? Do you hand out fliers to people who can barely read a stop sign, hoping that they'll be enlightened and move out of your way so you can jump in and take their god damn place in line for the slaughterhouse?

WHERE DO YOU GO? Do you file like cattle into dingy bars and thump-bumping night clubs, looking to skate through another forty-eight dreadful hours of your dull and meaningless existence on the thin ice of cheap cocktails? Do you try to hit up every attractive and equally comatose potential mate in the place, trying to find some kind of squirming flesh to help you warm up the growing chuck of ice that used to be your soul? Where do you go?

Do you slide secretly into a worn out pew in an old church, lying to yourself that you're just observing weirdos in their natural habitat of impotent faith, while you scour every word broadcast from some filthy bastard's mouth, who just sobered up 10 minutes before you showed up, looking for a glimpse of hope that you won't end up at the chop shop like everyone else? Do you mutter heartfelt but embarrassed and incoherent apologies to God under your breath, for saying so many callous and offensive things about it, just in case?

The fact of the matter is it doesn't matter where you go. It doesn't matter what your routine is, or what helps you sleep at night. The Long Winter's coming, and there ain't a worry or a care in this world or any other that will help you stay awake long enough to see it through. No matter where you go today, you won't need any sleeping pills to help you pass the time where you're going. And you'd better bundle up because it's already October and the chill is setting in.

PD, UNICORNISTAN -- An Internet page constructed almost a month ago has hardly been visited and has fallen into disrepair. Sources tell PDCOM NEWS that this kind of thing happens a lot in other parts of the world, but the Utopian nation of Unicornistan isn't used to it.

THIS JUST IN: PRESIDENT OBAMA FORFEITS DEBATE ON "I'D RATHER NOT HAVE A CONFRONTATION WITH A REPUBLICAN, CAN'T WE ALL JUST GET ALONG" GROUNDS.

Jesus spake unto the multitude, saying, "Behold, there were two farmers, whose fields bordered one another. One farmer was exceedingly rich, for there was a river running through the midst of his land, which fed the wheat in his field. He had only to work a little in the cool part of each day, and every harvest season he did reap a plentiful crop.

The other farmer was poor, for his land had no river, and he had to toil through every day; and every harvest season he reaped only enough to feed himself and his children.

Now, the poor farmer was honest and hardworking, but he wished to someday be as rich as his neighbor. He knew the scriptures and how they say "Unto the poor man is given a heavy yoke, so that he may become strong; but unto the rich man is given a light yoke, so that he may lead the way." The poor farmer knew that his troubles would be over if he only worked hard and solved his own problems.

So, it came to pass that the poor farmer asked the rich farmer if he could dig a trench through his land, so that they both could benefit from the overflowing water of the rich man's river. The rich man, being generous, said "Surely I will share my stream with thee, so long as thou payest me for the part of my crops which I shall lose where the trench shall be dug. I shall even dig this ditch for thee, for I know that thou art burdened by a long work day already." The poor man was filled with joy, and gave his agreement to the rich man with much enthusiasm.

Now, the rich farmer, being wise and not wanting to lose any crops, decided to dig the trench around his own property instead of through it. But the trench was a success, and fed a great stream to the poor farmer's field. And both of them grew to be the most wealthy farmers in their valley.

But it came to pass that the King, who owned the land where the rich man had dug the trench, sent out a scout to survey his royal lands. The scout found the trench, and reported it at once to the King, who sent his sheriff to the farmer's house, and arrested him on charges of theft and trespassing; and the farmer was slain for the crimes. To pay reparations, the poor farmer's children and field were sold to the rich farmer; and because the trench had already been dug, the King also sold that part of his land to the rich farmer for a fair price."

The Apostles considered Jesus' words, and at last Matthew spake, asking Jesus, "Lord, what is the meaning of this story?"

Jesus answered unto Matthew, "Verily: Big Government is Bad Government, and Obama's going to take our guns. Matthew, ready the Kool-Aid."

If you look at demographic trends, it's pretty obvious that the Republican Party is headed straight for a cliff. Their increasingly desperate political maneuvers indicate that they know it, too. Lindsey Graham even broke a cardinal rule and said so out loud recently. And he's right -- it's hard to imagine the GOP still being much of a force to be reckoned with 20 or 30 years from now, if they still squawk about social issues like they do now. And without those issues, it'll be hard to get anyone on board the "Gang Rape the Poor" bandwagon that comprises the other half of their platform.

For 30 years the Republican platform has slipped from having at least a few items based on reasonable Conservatism to one that is now composed entirely of frantic lashing out like a wounded animal. They have rallied to push every agenda that would stave off this deadly (for them) shift in demographics. They hate brown people coming across the border, they hate education, they hate poor people, they hate workers organizing to deal with their bosses, they hate every kind of individual liberty that doesn't involve a gun or a Bible. They hate foreign countries, especially when they have the gall to act like they're sovereign. Every single Republican position is now one that represents their fear of extinction.

But 20 or 30 years is a long time for the rest of us to wait, and it's pretty obvious that the Republican strategy quickly becoming "If we can't have America, then neither can you." They're leaving, but by God they're going to burn everything down before they go. Schools. Roads. Health care. Equality. Labor. Everything. They're already setting fire to anything that moves, in their desperate, last-ditch attempt to hide from their inevitable fate and the march of history. Luckily for us, the Democrats are already talking about forming a committee to decide what color to paint the fire truck.

So what will the rest of us have left when they're finally gone? What will the next iteration of America™ look like (assuming there's anything left to call America)?

With broccoli in Arizona?

I have a long and lovely history of eating broccoli. It is one of the few reasons why I would hesitate to push the Big Red Button if I ever made it far enough past security to get near it. Any planet that produces such a thing as broccoli is a planet that is at least theoretically worth saving. Broccoli has been there for some of the most important times in my life, and I consider it one of my favorite inanimate life partners.

But in Arizona, broccoli has apparently been irradiated by the Sun or something, and it causes me gastric disturbances of a magnitude I will not describe in too much detail, since I am a sensitive man and do not wish to burden you all with tales of such hurricanular flatulence.

So, to those of you who are familiar with Arizona: What the fuck is wrong with your broccoli?

Famous PD TROLLS call in to radio shows during "call us about anything" hour.

THE PDCOM STANDARD REPOSITORY OF COMMONLY EXPRESSED GRIEVANCES

Q. YOU GUYS ALL THINK THE SAME THING ALL THE TIME AND HATE ANYONE WHO DISAGREES, ETC.

A. PD is a community and one of the foremost indicator of communities is Groupthink. As special as we all are, this place is no exception to that rule. As an outsider, you are going to encounter this more often and more intensely than the Regulars and Old-Timers do. Maybe that's because we tune a lot of it out, or because we've been here longer than you and we know where our differences are. There are actually numerous deep differences in the opinions, tactics, and philosophies among the people here, it's just that you are new and haven't gotten to know any of us well enough to know what they are. Just stick around for a while and you may witness one of our frequent Civil Wars.


Q. ROGER AND/OR NIGEL HAS/HAVE A SECRET MIND-CONTROL LASER ARRAY IN A SATELLITE THAT FORCES EVERYONE TO WORSHIP HIM/HER/THEM.

A. That's actually true, but we don't talk about it because it spoils the mystery.


Q. LOL I WAS JUST JOKING WHY YOU GUYS STILL HATE ME?

A. It isn't that hard to tell the difference between a "joke" and a horribly failed argument or statement that someone refuses to own up to. You're not fooling anybody with your "OH, YOU THOUGHT I SAID JEWS? NO I SAID BLUES. I HATE THE BLUES" shit. Also, even if it were a joke, it was a bad one, and as you'll learn after you've lurked moar, it is far, far better to admit being an asshole than to admit having an awful sense of humor.


Q. YOU GUYS AREN'T "DISCORDIAN" ENOUGH.

A. (Read this in your best Gene Wilder Meme voice) - Oh, you want us to be Discordian? Tell us again how it isn't Discordian to be something you didn't expect.


MORE TO COME
?

[Wil Wheaton]

I usually don't make posts like this, but there are some things in the world that really deserve a serious condemnation. Genocide, police brutality, voter suppression, the Chinese... yes, all of these things are awful, but let's face it - they get plenty of lip from the News and from the Interbutt Hate Machine.

So this thread is about something that I have not heard many people expressing hatred for:

Wil Wheaton.
Yeah. I said it. Fuck Wil Wheaton. Just fuck that guy right in his ear. God dammit.

Look at this shit:


That's just the latest in a long train of abuses of which this guy is the conductor. WHY does the planet love Wil Wheaton? He's like Justin Bieber, except he doesn't even sing. He just posts shit on the faceplus and the googlebook.

So anyway, Fuck Wil Wheaton.

http://gizmodo.com/5942634/nasa-starts-development-of-real-life-star-trek-warp-drive

NOW DON'T NONE OF YOU CYNICS SHIT IN MY CHEERIOS.

This is awesome and I require AT LEAST 5 MINUTES OF CHILDLIKE WONDER THAT THIS MIGHT BE POSSIBLE before you start in with the "It'll never happen" and the "Republicans would defund this in an instant" and your "LOL THIS GUY'S A FRAUD" shit. I know you're right, but for the sake of my sanity just HOLD IT IN FOR 5 MINUTES and IMAGINE POSSIBILITIES, FUCKERS.

So, I just read this wonderful novel by George Orwell called "1984." It's the deeply reassuring tale of a future utopia where we are all safe beneath the watchful and benevolent eyes of a big, cuddly government called Big Brother. My favorite thing about this future world is that it seems so plausible! I sure hope we can make our world just as safe and secure as the one in the book while I'm still alive.

i can make out the dim outline of an idea in the distance, but i'm not sure the road i'm on will take me any closer to it than i am right now, so i'm going to transcribe the thing in its rough unidentified form.

i want to talk about intentions, and how people collectively make things happen. now, for some things (see: moon landing, etc) this is a valid pursuit. if a goal is clear-cut and scientifically definite, then there are clear steps to take in order to arrive there. everyone has a place in the machine that must be built to transport people from "we have not achieved" to "we have achieved" that goal.

more often, however, we are not concerned with scientifically precise definitions of where exactly we are heading, or where we want to head. the future is nebulous, and all we know about it is that it is not the present. and the way we know it is not the present is because the present is not where we want to be. in fact we have such a hazy, distorted, indefinite idea about the future that we often disagree on what it is and what it should be, and hence we often (as in almost always) disagree on how to get there, to one degree or another.

but, even if we cannot know the specifics of the future we want to build, i think it is still possible to be deliberate and even scientific in building it. the future is just what happens because of what is happening now. like The Machine™, which is just "what happens" as a result of what the people in it are doing, The Future is just "what happens" as a result of what's happening right now. the one thing all of us agree on about the future (if we are not fucking crazy, like the scientologists or the subgenii) is that it is supposed to be "better" than the present, somehow.

so, it would seem to me that if you want your future to be better, even if you have no idea "how" to make it better, you would start by improving your present. surrounding yourself with People instead of Assholes. forcing yourself to not hate getting up in the morning. finding something about your day that makes you smile. that kind of hippie bullshit. any collection of humans is going to give rise to something: it always happens, without exception. whether that "something" is good or bad is determined by the same principles that determine whether The Machine is good or bad, only on a smaller scale.

so maybe we can build a future, a better future, by using accidents and coincidences, on purpose.

NOTE: THE "4 YEARS" THING IS NOT POLITICAL. It's just a meme going around somewhere and it seems as reasonable a snapshot period as any other.

Many things and many people in life suck, and I don't need to issue a laundry list on that topic to name them.

Some things however do not suck. I won't list a general, "applies to everyone" laundry list here either, because I don't know everyone and I don't know what applies and what doesn't, or what sucks and what doesn't for most people, for that matter.

But if the plights of millions of disenfranchised people are worth discussing (and they are!) then that discussion ought to be balanced out. So, here are a few things from my life, that do not suck.

1. My family - more stable, and happier now than it was 4 years ago.

2. My Job - I have gone from a job dealing with whiny rednecks and their broken computers all day, to a job where if I am having a bad day I can walk outside to blow off frustration and take in some scenery, and depending on the week, I will either see this:


Puget Sound waving hello and smelling remarkably nice

or this:


Not sure what this is, I think it's a leftover prop from the Friends series

3. My health - not as good as it should be (I'm one of those Horrible Smokers they tell you about in class) but I have insurance that I didn't have 4 years ago.

4. My Religious Extremist parents live in Wisconsin, where they can't harass my kids for their (lack of) religion or the critical thinking my wife and I have instilled in them.

5. PDCOM.....? Well, you can't win them all. TAKE THAT SPAGS.

The guy was addicted to Oxycontin. Why?

I just took 2 of those fucking pills 25 minutes ago and noth

Jersey Shore has been canceled.