Two stupid questions

  1. If all of the poor, lazy, stupid, violent, gang-banging, welfare-reliant minorities in the "inner city" are smart enough to commit in-person voter fraud en mass, without getting caught, why aren't rural republicans?
  2. If Donald Trump wins, wouldn't that undermine his claim that the revelations about his sexual abuse of women harmed his reputation, and wouldn't therefore be a better use of time in his first 100 days in office?


Memory lies.

If it isn't obvious, I have been on a little nostalgia kick lately; reaching out to some people in my past that I had passing acquaintances with, while avoiding the ones for whom my feelings are deeper.

Otherwise, the reason for the title is I bought a pack of Djarum Blacks on impulse.  I used to smoke the regularly in high school.  Either they're much weaker now, or my memory of how numbing they were is faulty.

Anyway, I'll put the yearbook away now.  I think the thing about fairies being low in fat is from Pangburn, rather than Storti.

And Jessa, I went computer science.  Close enough, and I'm not going to blow anything up (not that I really want to anymore).

Honestly, I'm sad that I am revisiting my past, while at the same time being somewhat afraid of the future.  As they say, twice bitten, thrice shy, I guess, but at the same time it why (partly) I am who I am.  At the time it seemed like I was shunned, but over time I've realized that I was always treated with respect, and while not popular in the "heathers" sense, I was at least accepted.   At the time I didn't realize it, and I do actually regret my inability to recognize the reality of the situation.

Anxiety makes you assume the worst in people, and makes you incapable of re-evaluating their motives.  When you put up a wall, people won't try to penetrate it; and that's not because they don't care (in most cases), but because they don't want to upset you.

At the same time, you want to project a "cool" image, that makes you want to react as you imagine the person you're modeling would to a particular situation.  This is further alienating, and the fact that I wasn't a complete pariah is a testament to the kindness, and humanity of those I went to school with.

It took me a long time (and some meds) to realize this, and I wish I had 15-20 years ago.  My life would be much better now.  At the same time, I can rest easier now, knowing that the chip on my shoulders was of my own doing, and that as I've grown older and more wise (fucking HA HA HA), I realize that my world-view at the time was pretty skewed.

(although, Tina, square dancing wouldn't have been any different, hee hee, aside from me having tried to kiss you in one of our many, many, many stumbles--all my fault, of course)

time is a powerful drug

And another thing.

To be clear up front: this is NOT a joke: if we see Melania in public wearing oversized dark sunglasses on 11/9, I hope to dog, satan, or whatever you sacrifice your goats to on the marble altar every week that divorce papers and restraining orders are forthcoming posthaste.

The profile I linked to in my previous post leads me to believe that Ivana wasn't lying about the rape, and that the subsequent retraction was coerced.

Trump is not a person I think has the mental capacity to gaslight somebody  on any level deeper than flat out denying his behavior, anyway, as we've all seen (and I think this is unintentional on his part, he doesn't know he's doing it because Dunning Kruger...or something); but I don't doubt there's some sort of Stockholm syndrome, or other more appropriate form of traumatic bonding--of which I'm not yet aware--involved in his relationships. 

Trump reacts to Melania's advice to concede.
If I didn't know better that's what I'd think the Trump household scene would look like on 11/8.  The problem is it doesn't look like the fas-phocomelic-child-of-baroque-and-rococo-design exploded everywhere; drenching everything in gold, pink marble, and plenty of shiny trinkets & baubles of no function other than to take a long time for the maid to keep free of dust.  Or put more simply, it's tasteful in an 80's minimalist way.

Sorry, I'm having a very difficult time with this.  This didn't just tickle my berserk button, but bashed it like The Hulk doing one of those carnival strength-test hammer things (aka a High striker).  I mean this is a person who goes against the fibre of my very being.  Somebody who should have been isolated from regular society long ago--one way or another--and not only has he not been undone by his behavior and actions, but actually has a very, very loyal following.

I was right.

See, I told you so (not that I derive that much pleasure), but Trump is a spiteful moron.  An anecdote from the piece.

And when Mr. Trump feels he has been made a fool of, his response can be volcanic. Ivana Trump told Mr. D’Antonio about a Colorado ski vacation she took with Mr. Trump soon after they began dating. The future Mrs. Trump had not told her boyfriend that she was an accomplished skier. As she recalls it, Mr. Trump went down the hill first and waited for her at the bottom:
IVANA TRUMP: So he goes and stops, and he says, “Come on, baby. Come on, baby.” I went up. I went two flips up in the air, two flips in front of him. I disappeared. Donald was so angry, he took off his skis, his ski boots, and walked up to the restaurant. ... He could not take it. He could not take it.

He had been bested in public. As he stormed off the slope, leaving behind a trail of equipment, she recalled, Mr. Trump could not contain his embarrassment.

“I’m not going to do this,” she recalled him saying, “for anybody, including Ivana.”

The mind boggles.  Why did she marry him at all?  Did he pinhole the condom, or roofie her on one of their dates?

They go on to paint the portrait of a single-minded megalomaniac, completely unwilling and incapable of introspection.
But he quickly retreats from the [discussion of a Peggy Lee song, "Oh, is this all there is?"] , declining Mr. D’Antonio’s invitation to further explain how the song makes him feel about himself, saying he might not like what he discovers.

Of this, however, Mr. Trump is certain: He needs the world’s attention and its embrace, a life force that has sustained him for decades.

I await the response with baited breath.

Does anybody actually read this shit?

Well, am I wasting my time?

If this was paradise...

Reminder: A few posts ago I put up two youtube videos.  The first was of a Dutch band, Focus, live, with the singer looking like he's trying to suppress an outbreak of lycanthropy, while at the same time, yodeling, singing, playing flute, whistling and playing keyboard...

<takes deep breath>

The second was Nothing But Flowers by The Talking Heads, which is becoming one of my favorites, and here's why.

First, another reminder, I'm materialistic.  I disagree with criticism that I am necessarily too materialistic in a colloquial sense; that I chase money and stuff as my raison d'être.  In reality it's more of a sense of sentimentality expressed via symbols, some physical, others as events. 

For example, on my shelf I have an assembly of the twisted metal shavings from the MAK in Germany.  The steel is blue, colored by the heat generated by the blade of the industrial lathe.

That trip to Germany as an exchange student in High School was up until that point, the highlight of my life, and that little pile of junk is a reminder of it.

Other things that might seem extremely materialistic, like appreciating the first receipt of a bonus from a recent promotion, aren't about the stuff, but about the growth as a person that I had to accomplish in order to be promoted at all...but I digress.

So back to Nothing But Flowers.  On the surface it's the story of an eden-like post apocalyptic utopia, where the singer is lamenting the loss of the modern conveniences we take for granted.

I think it's much deeper than that and acts as a brilliant double criticism, both of modern materialism, in that the stuff he laments no longer exist is trite; Pizza Hut, shopping malls, and stuff like that; and the naive idealism that tearing it all down will solve all of society's ills.

It's a powerful rebuke of the type of herd-following materialism, fashion fads and the like that many of us were participants in in our youths.  People my age remember British Knitghts, Jordache, and many other examples of absolutely worthless shit being coveted, strongly by me and my peers. 

At the same time, it also acts as a rebuke of the idealism that attempts to reject materialism completely to strive for that eden-like utopia.  If you catch that particular car, you may find yourself as an unwilling participant in the outcome.

So with that, I'll be posting more.  I hope I don't get so creepy again.


Time out

After having posted what is probably the creepiest thing on the internet in my post-debate haze (since deleted), I'm going to take a time out.

I sincerely apologize to those parties I creeped upon.  You deserve respect, not some drunken rambling.



This is worse than I thought.

Surprisingly, Chris Wallace is a voice of reason.  He's controlling the chaos much better than the previous moderators.  He's also not obviously anti-Clinton, or pro-Trump (at least so far).

Aside from that, this is a bigger shitshow than debate #1.

Trump is a tarbaby.  Hillary needs to keep away.

(obama's regime?  Seriously?  You can't be a feckless loser and an iron-fisted tyrant at the same time.)

Last comment:  Chris Wallace is surprisingly balanced in his questions.   If he decides to get a job somewhere other than Fox, then I'll keep an eye out.

(bla bla bla 30 years)

Fuck this shit.

Goodbye Blue Monday

(or cruel wold).

It's been nice knowing you, Darcy, Penny, Jen, Krista, Crystal, Jennifer, Jenn, Heather, Katie, et al.   We're done for.


Debate tonight.  Get your handle of Gin ready and stock up on the tonic.

Articles that attempt to pin down some rational reason for the way that Donald "soon-to-be-thrice-divorced-once-Melania-turns-fifty" Trump behaves, such as this one in Vox, bother me.  This one attempts to rationalize Trump within the context of broadcasting.

This amplification can seem confusing when analyzed through a political lens, which make his actions seem alienating at best, catastrophic at worst. But it makes perfect sense in the context of the medium that built Trump’s candidacy: TV. Instead of looking to the realm of politics to understand this move, look to television to find the key concept that’s driving the Trump campaign: narrowcasting.

It's a nice idea, but it's not really what's happening.  Not intentionally anyway.  What we are witnessing in this article is one of the corollaries of the Dunning-Kruger effect, and that is similar to the tendency of low-ability people to fail to recognize their own lack of ability; high-ability people sometimes assume similar ability in others.

This projection smooths any cognitive dissonance a high-ability individual might suffer when confronted with people of such low-ability that any cognizance of such an ability deficit is impossible.

In other words, when somebody does something so stupid that it defies all logic and reason, smart people might assume there is some intentional underlying narrative pattern that contextualizes the action.

CNN reported Tuesday that Trump invited President Barack Obama’s Kenyan-born half-brother, Malik, and the mother of Benghazi victim Sean Smith, while Clinton will bring Hewlett-Packard CEO Meg Whitman and billionaire investor Mark Cuban.

Really.  That oughtta make Barack Obama squirm!  Problem is, Hillary is the debate opponent.

What is really happening with the campaign at this point is Trump's pathological need to stroke his ego, and nothing else.   Donald Trump is not capable, mentally, to engage in the sort of planning and discipline that narrowcasting interpretation would require.

He's an idiot.

Geoffrey Pullum, a linguist at University of Edinburgh, argues that there’s more going on than just a conversational, I’ll-let-you-fill-in-the-gaps-style. Trump’s unorganized sentences and short snippets might suggest something about how his mind works. "His speech suggests a man with scattered thoughts, a short span of attention, and a lack of intellectual discipline and analytical skills," Pullum says.

More sophisticated thinkers and speakers (including many past presidents), Pullum argues, are able to use "hypotaxis — that is, embedding of clauses within clauses." Trump can’t seem to do that.

Pullum explains further: "When you say something like 'While Congress shows no interest in doing X, I feel that the American people believe it is essential,' the clause ‘it is essential’ is inside the clause ‘the American people believe it is essential’ which is inside the clause ‘I feel that the American people believe it is essential,’ and so on. You get no such organized thoughts from Trump. It's bursts of noun phrases, self-interruptions, sudden departures from the theme, flashes of memory, odd side remarks. ... It's the disordered language of a person with a concentration problem."

He has such a short attention span that he literally cannot finish a sentence.  Or at least, not the same sentence that he started. 

And the only thing Trump can stay interested in is himself.

“It’s implicit in a lot of what people write, but it’s never explicit—or, at least, I haven’t seen it. And that is that it’s impossible to keep him focussed on any topic, other than his own self-aggrandizement, for more than a few minutes, and even then . . . ” Schwartz trailed off, shaking his head in amazement.

And there's really no public/private persona differences either.

This year, Schwartz has heard some argue that there must be a more thoughtful and nuanced version of Donald Trump that he is keeping in reserve for after the campaign. “There isn’t,” Schwartz insists. “There is no private Trump.” This is not a matter of hindsight. While working on “The Art of the Deal,” Schwartz kept a journal in which he expressed his amazement at Trump’s personality, writing that Trump seemed driven entirely by a need for public attention. “All he is is ‘stomp, stomp, stomp’—recognition from outside, bigger, more, a whole series of things that go nowhere in particular,” he observed, on October 21, 1986. But, as he noted in the journal a few days later, “the book will be far more successful if Trump is a sympathetic character—even weirdly sympathetic—than if he is just hateful or, worse yet, a one-dimensional blowhard.”

So all of the water chumming Trump is currently doing with the alt-right isn't about fomenting a permanent following, but is a psychological need for approval.  His ego requires people to love him, and he seems not to recognize the difference between very intense approval from a narrow demographic, and a benevolent apathy of a much wider population.

Every teabagger shouting himself red in the face at Trump rallies gets one vote each.  It matters not how intensely a voter feels about his chosen candidate when he casts his ballot for Trump; quantity over quality is what does.

(and yes, I'm intentionally depicting Trump voters as exclusively male in the preceding paragraph.   The uneducated of whom are the only demographic still in Trumps wheelhouse.)

So this is the prism through which tonight's debate should be viewed:  A narcissistic moron dancing for applause.  Not some long term plan to spawn a media empire.