Damn mothereffer bastard bitch chink!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And other over-reactions.

Because when your life is in danger, you revert to anger, and when you revert to anger, you revert to mindless tropes.

It’s human nature.
I have no idea whether this driver was, 1) Chinese, 2) female, but sometimes, when the fucker almost runs you off the road, you gotta resort to the tried and true.

Posted in L5

An apparition on the Red Line train this morning and the dawn of a coming doom…

Let it be written, let it be noted, in the timeless annals of the eternal medium of cyberspace, everything that has ever been written shall never be discarded or lost.

Let it be written about the apparition, the one I saw this morning. An apparition that frightened me not for its apparent intrusion into my pragmatic, non-magical, atheist daily rigmarole, but for what I sense it portends for us…a gloomy, bleak and darkly vicious fate to befall mankind. A sign I glimpsed, as if squeezed out from the slimy entrails of multidimensional possibilities we cannot see with our eyes. A harbinger of sorrow.

I saw an apparition this morning on the way to work, on the train, of all places, and this is perhaps what was so horrendous about it. It occurred on a crowded, harshly lit MTA train under the streets of Los Angeles, of all places.

Let me preface by saying that last night, I slept very badly and I was not rested in the morning. I am one of those people who finds it difficult to sleep in public places, especially on public transportation. Still, I found a seat on the Red Line train as it headed northbound into Hollywood and I sat by the window where I was slightly hidden by a slight protrusion that was a dividing wall housing one of the sideways seats, so my vision of the train was a slightly obstructed. I rested my arm on the window frame, a dirty rubber frame that has housed thousands of filthy riders and their soiled elbows before me. I let my eyes close and before I knew it, I was nodding off. Very rare as I don’t typically fall asleep on the Red Line.

I occasionally opened my eyes and saw the seats before me, all facing my direction, and took disinterested note in the occupants. One the seats was filled with a 30-something full-bodied Hispanic woman with clear brown skin, glasses, and wavy hair tied in a casual ponytail. I noted this but barely noted it. I just knew she was there but didn’t need to consciously acknowledge this fact in order to recall it. I closed my eyes with my right arm propped up on the window frame. Closed, sleepy eyes…deeply…as sleep overcame me, my arm, supported no longer by my conscious wakefulness, fell from the frame, jarring me awake. My eyes flew open and in that moment, that brief instant before I closed them again, I saw, next to the Hispanic lady, hovering close to the floor of the train, a very, very pale girl. Her skin was white as the clearest, polished ivory and I think she had red hair but her features were of such darkness that they cut a contrasting and sharp series of edges against that face and the…red hair? But most startling was the fact her face was so much lower than the surrounding seats, just inches from the floor even.

And I closed my eyes again and then opened them, and she was gone.

The Hispanic lady was still in her seat. The train still raced through the dimly lit tunnels below the big city.

Let it be written.

Let yourself be forewarned.

Evil rabid scathing death and tribulation barrels upon us!

Posted in L7

Not an MH17 conspiracy because both sides have a vested interested in pinning the disaster on the “other side”

Come on, now.

Is it even “tin foil” to humor the possibility that Ukrainian troops “procured” a BUK missile system and deliberately shot down a passenger jet knowing full well that the political and social backlash against such an action, one that could too easily be laid at the feet of Russian and Ukrainian rebels, would help that nation’s global cause immensely?

I’m not saying Russia was not involved. But let’s keep a clear, lucid mind about this.

You can’t convict a man for murder based on the fact that he tends to like .45 caliber Smith & Wesson handguns, one which just happened to be involved in the murder he is tried for, in the absence of any other evidence.

And a Malaysian Air B777? Please, the script could have written itself.

Posted in L3

Men: your vulnerability is only for you to know. One must proceed like a stone.

As romantic and sullenly pleasing as it may seem, I have some news for you, guys.

Vulnerability is a private matter that has no business being uttered or seeing the light of day by any woman, except maybe your mother.

Vulnerability is the key to your demise in the eyes of women.

If you must vent or express your deepest, most private vulnerabilities, keep it quiet and a secret that remains in your deepest caverns of thought. Write a letter to yourself or compose and construct an anonymous blog and pour out you cathartic doubts to your heart’s content. But never, never, NEVER, burden the woman in your life with your personal vulnerabilities. Even the most sensitive and kind woman will find that she cannot fathom listening to your vulnerabilities without eventually absorbing them into her arsenal of every reason not to continue having you in her life.

The moment you tell your girlfriend or wife of your most sensitive and shameful vulnerabilities, you have handed her the dagger and entrance to your heart where she can inflict the most damage. Giving a woman a detailed rundown of your vulnerabilities is like letting a vampire into your house.

You are screwed.

For every vulnerability you confide, you must also volunteer and perform at least 20 acts of brash insensitive boldness. This is the only way to offset the humiliation that must naturally visit your profuse relinquishment of vulnerabilities that have no business being known to anyone, least of all your girlfriend or wife.

The crux of a man are his secrets.

All men, even the most powerful, possess vulnerability, but what separates the masters of men from the worms is the ability to withhold certain dehumanizing personal hangups from entering the light of day.

There is nothing to be gained from divulging your sincerest vulnerabilities to a woman other than disgrace and alienation.

Just shut up and proceed like a stone.

Posted in L7

Attachment only breeds helplessness and despair

I am, and was, rather fond of this aphorism I baked up earlier.

So fond of it that I plastered it on my Facebook wall to a rising crescendo of indifference, such as this pitiful life may afford.

Problem is that too many literal-minded and pragmatic killjoys won’t really bother to try and understand it beyond the superficial, one-dimensional state of its paper-bound existence.

Of course my tidbit of wisdom includes attachment to people. That goes without saying.

But it also includes attachment as a generalized reaction to our external, and internal, worlds.

We become attached to anything that is not us. Our environment is our magnet. We are helpless.

Attachments can be foods, ideas, philosophies, sounds, clothes, words…each little attachment we add to our Lexicon of Attachments whittles away at our sound nature, at our independence, at our precious autonomy.

No man is an island, I’ve been told, but the problematic falsehood is that we are all islands regardless of how much we delude ourselves into thinking that we are part of the mainland.

We are all islands and each grasp and clench of a foreign object not born of our island is an attachment.

We are weak.

Posted in L2

Fourth Wave feminism, more of the same bitchiness, but spruced up with digital hash-tags and micro-everything

This well-intentioned piece from the Financial Times deigns to spell out what the new and blossoming “fourth wave” of feminism stands for, fights for, perhaps signifies.

Yawn.

How many different incarnations of a “feminist movement” must we collectively experience as a berated culture before we can finally…”accept” women as equals?

Now that women enjoy unprecedented levels of equality, it appears feminists have exhausted things to bitch about so now they have resorted to peddling the touchy mentality of “micro-offenses” in exchange for self-empowerment.

It would be very much an insolvent move for a cultural march to declare “mission accomplished,” especially one manned by women, a gender notorious for beating a dead horse.

In fact, Melissa Harrison, the author, writes in this article:

Things are very different now. Much of the west is experiencing what’s been dubbed the “fourth wave” of feminism – following the first, which secured the vote and changes to property rights a century ago, the second, in the 1960s and 1970s, and third, in the early 1990s. Perhaps each generation must reinvent feminism for itself, for while some things have improved for some women, new pressures and injustices have taken their place – and new voices, new heroines, must be found to counter them.

Yes, feminism must continue reinventing itself ad nauseum because, as the archetypal tiresome house-hunter on HGTV or foodie elitist on Food TV display to us, the typical 21st Century woman must always deconstruct humble reality into an entropy-ridden glob of misery and spite topped with a generous dose of dissatisfaction.

Fourth wave feminism is about finding a new shape and form by which to digitally plague us with the tired Women Are Victims Dialogue.

Yet again.

Mindless platitudes and warm whispers of confounding emotional blandness.

From a photo album by Jinan Younis appearing in the Financial Times article (http://www.ft.com/intl/cms/s/2/32497422-012f-11e4-a938-00144feab7de.html#slide0)

From a photo album by Jinan Younis appearing in the Financial Times article (http://www.ft.com/intl/cms/s/2/32497422-012f-11e4-a938-00144feab7de.html#slide0)

Posted in L1

The horrible irony of Joan Rivers

How is it that one of the few remaining celebrities with the balls to defy the sensitivities of spineless American culture came equipped with only ovaries?

Posted in L5

American bullying as a consequence of the helplessness of Federal inaction

My mom came up with the masterstroke strategy which I think addresses the no-win situation of all those damn Central-American children flooding our Southern border. It is an exquisitely simple plan. I wish I had thought of it.

“Why don’t they put all these kids on a plane but instead of sending them back home, send them to Washington D.C and the White House lawn? They can just drop them off on Obama’s doorstep.”

So blatantly simple. It’s a solution I can say that finally appeals to me in the midst of this horrible mess that has been instigated by our Federal government, Central-American ignorance, and the swine who are the smuggling coyotes of Latin America.

As always, but especially recently as our American economic chasm resembles the Third World, one in which elites dictate the problems of the masses underneath, the ulterior and manipulative good intentions of the moneyed classes and federal politicians is enlivened and propped up on the backs of an American populace that is barely able to take care of itself, much less thousands of dependent brown children from Central America.

The issue stems from the indifference and inaction that the Federal government displays when it involves our sovereign borders. In a fit of hypocritical arrogance, it seems the issue quickly becomes a State issue because logistically, the states are the ones left holding the immigrant bag, so to speak; they alone are left to deal with the immigrant flood while the policy shaping elites in the national Capitol retreat into their hermetic leather caves of elegance and oak.

And naturally, the enraged citizens of the border states, reacting like ignored and abused children of negligent, absent parents who would rather be smoking cigars and sharing wine with the Beltway class, succumb to misguided and desperate bullying tactics, such as waving signs and blocking the buses transporting the illegals from entering the city. In a series of small, myopic “victories,” the buses retreated to San Diego (an American city, fyi) where the illegal aliens were housed and fed, also at taxpayer expense. The sign-waving protesters reveled in the retreat but this was an inconsequential battle because Washington will continue perpetuating the self-serving paradigm of an America with open-shores while strategically allowing it to be “sabotaged” by the “bad people” who don’t want them here. Obama, et al, feed and thrive off this constructed tension in order to allow them to play the part of benevolent saviors, or at the very least, to disclaim responsibility for some rather noxious public policy decisions.

This administration’s hysterics and new hard-line stance regarding the immigrants is a ploy that places the onus of the resulting tough-love decisions on Republicans because it’s easy, for they are the most vocal and angry and willingly sit themselves in the bull’s eye. Obama gets to play tough guy after constructing a legislative framework which only nourishes the magnetic appeal that poverty-stricken Central-Americans feel for a putative United States of Immigration Indifference, the forgiving beacon it has become because they buy into the myth as readily as some buy into the Obama phone. It is a cynical and manipulative move, but this is Federal politics. What do you expect?

Instead, the bully protesters vent their frustrations on a bunch of helpless children who have no say in this matter. And like all bullies, they only pick to mock those not their size. Do these protesters have the balls and travel expenses to march on D.C with their posters? Ah, I think not.

The White House security and Secret Service are scary.  Let's bring our children to bring the fear of God to...children!

The White House security and Secret Service are scary. Let’s bring our children to bring the fear of God to…children!

This is radicalized NIMBY, but ultimately everyone should keep in mind (especially the Feds), that America is our backyard, and we need to stand in collective defiance as the “border states” against the ghastly calculated indifference which the Eastern Federal politicos assault us with.

Posted in L2

Uncritical thinking, an American plague.

We have a damn problem in this country. Apparently, it spans all ethnic, economic and social groups. It’s a very irksome problem and many times it leaves me wishing to pull my hair out.

America suffers from a plague of “uncritical thinking.”

Americans lack the piercing and focused ability to think clearly and critically. It makes my life hell.

Critical thinking is that (rare) ability to assiduously examine and deconstruct external data in a rational and emotionless manner. Critical thinking requires that you brush aside preconceived notions and dive into a chain of cognition with a cleared mind that is devoid of motives and opinions, hates and likes. Critical thinking requires that you transform your mind, for the exercise at hand, into an impartial laboratory of scrutiny. You don’t allow your opinions and prejudices to tarnish or influence your interpretation of the data before you.

Americans are notorious puppets to their ideologies and it is this attachment to ethereal belief systems which draws them into a quagmire of erratic thought and illogical thinking.

Is critical thinking a facet of intelligence? Perhaps, but not necessarily so. Some very intelligent people use their mental prowess merely to argue their own rehashed notions while failing to note that their thought process has been skewed by emotion and personal beliefs. In fact, intelligent people might be more prone to uncritical thinking because they have such an inordinate amount of trust in their intelligence.

Still, one expects uncritical thinking from certain segments of society, from certain economic and racial groups.

The archetypal uncritical thinker is that Black woman we all love and chide dearly as she has become a rather ubiquitous meme of the day. Michelle Dowery, the “Obama phone lady” who was filmed during the 2012 Presidential election ranting about the free phones Barack was going to give all the poor and disadvantaged Americans (who, of course, had more pressing problems than owning stupid cell phones).

Obama phone

For the sake of all that is rational and self-preserving, I have declined to link the infamous video here (you can find it yourself). The photo should hint at this atrocity well enough that you can understand the visual embodiment of uncritical thinking. We can all nod in measured condescension.

Dowery is ground zero of uncritical thinking, what with all her quasi-superstitious rejoice in Barack, the ghetto demigod.

But this kind of thinking is equally rampant across all America. Dowery represents an extreme example of uncritical thinking; in the span and full palette of uncritical thinking that coats the pulse of American society, Americans are distributed quite widely in representative amounts of uncritical thinking.

For instance, on my Facebook wall, I saw a Washington Post link appear on something called the “Conservative Tribune’s” timeline which reported on the Republican lawsuit against Barack Obama as a possible prelude to impeachment…”testing the waters,” so to speak.

FB Obama exchange _ 1

Personally, I think the Republicans would be wiser if they just allowed Barack to serve out his tainted term and all the attendant dissembling of his (and the Democrat’s) legacy. He will do more self-damage in office than out. If impeached, he will serve some martyr-like banishment which will put him out of our misery and minds. There is no strategic virtue to lancing the boil that is the Obama Presidency. The Republicans should let the boil swell and erupt in a shit storm of bad policy and crumbling legitimacy which will pave the way to an easy Republican Oval ascension in 2016.

But impeachment of Obama is a pet fetish of many Conservatives now that they got the taste of a little Clintonian impeachment, but the victim is not Barack Obama.

The victim is critical thinking.

In the comment stream following this wall post, I saw a woman named “Kay” allege some ridiculous bullshit that hardened uncritical thinking Conservatives eat up like a tasty Obamian morsel.

FB Obama exchange

Kay quotes an apocryphal interview Obama gave Meet The Press in 2008. A critical thinker will read the quote, and though they may not like Obama and even agree he should be impeached, will still suspect it is dubious, at best. Common sense and clarity of mind will quickly tell the critical thinker that the quote is so outlandish, especially coming from the mouth of a President, that its veracity must be questioned harshly. A visit to Snopes will attest to the farcical nature of that anti-Obama anecdote which Kay pulled out of her ass. I followed up with the admonition that a movement must practice critical thinking if it’s to be taken seriously.

Critical thinking is raped and polluted by people across the ideological spectrum. They’d rather hear nonsense that bolsters their pet opinions and motives to such a degree that they no longer think critically. It’s religion and superstition, this lack of thinking and willing belief in garbage as long as it’s their garbage.

It’s an American plague.

Posted in L3

First-world female affliction: Mass Media-Induced Real Estate Hysteria

I like to leave my dash cam rolling while I’m parked. Sometimes I find the footage/filmed “entertainment” far more interesting than the stuff I capture during the ho-hum drive in LA’s harsh and tiresome streets.

Recently, while parked on one of the blissfully quiet and uncrowded streets in Pacific Grove (a quaint, wind-swept coastal town neighboring Monterey up north), I let the dash cam roll in my parked car while we strolled and drank coffee in the small business district.

Upon reviewing my footage, I found a brief scene which brought a familiar glimpse of an occurrence I thought only I experienced. Turns out, there is another guy out there who finds himself contending with the same dynamic which I shall call “mass media-induced real estate hysteria (MMIREH),” a condition known to primarily occur in women. Symptoms include rabid attention and fixation with all matters of single family unit domiciles in the areas of selling, buying, renovating, furnishing, etc.

The modern civilized woman loves houses. She loves everything to do with houses. The subject of houses consumes her and she will drop everything in order to sate this consumerist fixation. People blame brown minorities for the 2008 housing bubble, but the real culprits were women. Women, massive consumers of the Cult of HGTV, drew bumbling men into the economic spiderweb pit of monetary over-extension in order to calm the selfish hunger of their siren wives seeking to keep pace with the rat race to mortgage-fed debt.

Frequently, the two of us will be walking along and suddenly she will dart from me in the direction of a random bank of cased property listings seen outside most real estate offices. Time halts as do all mundane matters of life and death. She has no intention of really buying anything, especially those jewels that straddle well past the 7-digit mark. But she just needs to look and ruminate over piles of concrete/stucco/iron as if this is a modern-day crucifix of soulful redemption. Spellbound, she studies the listings wile I idle nearby. So it was with great relief and relish that I noted I am not the only guy in the world who is plagued with a wife/girlfriend battling a severe bout of MMIREH.

What is a man to do in such a situation? What is his best approach to dealing with MMIREH?

The guy in this video chose to merely continue standing in place while his afflicted female partner studied some random listings she really had no interest in, apparently. He stood in place while performing a strange stiff-legged sway. I thought it was kinda childish.

Personally, I usually accompany the female and listen to her compulsive observations regarding said property (or properties) and sometimes, I even pay attention or look at the detailed description. It’s a bonding time for us. A communion in which adulation of the untouchable is pronounced in dubious ooohs and aaaahs of envy. I can certainly think of worse fates. This dude should just learn to love the bomb and stand by his girl’s side despite the implicit boredom which square footage and bathroom counts may incite.

Sure beats that weird stilt walk he deferred to petulantly.

Posted in L1