Welp, dear reader, today started off ungreat, and descended steadily southward into a finale of bullshit and misunderstanding.  I Kind of want to jump out of a window, but I’ll probably attempt catharsis by working on the slasher novel and drinking deeply of desk whiskey.

N.P.: “Miasma” – Ghost

Alyssa Milano is a moronic twat.  Apparently she used to be an actress but now she’s rather pathetically trying to become the face of victimhood in intersectional politics and is failing wretchedly at that as well.  Though I really can’t stand any of the babble that spews from her fetid tiny mind, it has been amusing to watch her basically break down and collapse in a very public way during the last few weeks.  When that other racist, sexist, bigoted, hate-mongering fraudulent excuse of a human from that show no one watches was exposed a couple weeks ago as having been so unable to find anyone to oppress him that he had to pay other black guys to pretend they were white and beat him up, this Milano chick lost her shit.  “If that man stated his own attack he is wrong in so many ways.  No one could be that hurtful?  To stage this?  Right?  To fuck with all of us by playing into our weaknesses & make it even harder for victims to come forward?!  No one could choose to be that hurtful?  Right?!  RIGHT?”

To whom was she pleading?  The universe, which time and time again offers up evidence that the world is not nearly as fucked up as the narrative the kool-aid of which she and Smollett and other intersectional frauds have drunk so deeply and unquestioningly…until now?  When Copernicus and later Galileo did their things regarding the truth of our heliocentric universe, the Pope found it more convenient to label them heretics and place Galileo under house arrest until he recanted (which he never did, and thus died under house arrest) than to have the riots and insurrection that would surely come from all of humanity learning that the lie they had bought into, that God had created the earth and mankind as the center of everything was, in scientifically provable fact, utter horseshit designed to control the ignorant masses.  The average human is not at all equipped, psychologically, to artfully handle the proverbial rug being pulled out from under their chosen reality.  In psychology, there is something called reality testing, which is easy and normal and constant in normal individuals but not so in psychotics.  When Jussie Smollett went out to verify his reality of racial and gender oppression and could not, he attempted to create a reality that did.  And just as the Pope failed to hide the really real reality from the unwashed and illiterate masses, so did Smollett.  And everybody who swallowed his bullshit unquestioningly suddenly found themselves looking like dicks who, if they had any critical thinking skills whatsoever, long ago hit the “mute” button on those.

There are a couple of interesting things in what’s-her-twat’s statements: she (subconsciously, I suspect) admits that this unquestioning willingness to swallow the oppressed victim narrative is a “weakness.”  And then she says his actions will “make it even harder for victims to come forward.”  Bitch, please.  The easiest thing in the world right now is to be a victim.  That’s why Smollett did what he did: he couldn’t be bothered to take acting lessons or get a better agent to improve his career.  Why bother.  All you have to do now is claim membership in one or more oppressed victim class and you’re set.

So then, a couple weeks later, apparently Milano had a really big breakfast in celebration of International Women’s Day and went online to declare that she was a trans gay disabled immigrant lesbian of color.  Swear to god.  Here, verbatim: “I’m trans.  I’m a person of color.  I’m an immigrant.  I’m a lesbian.  I’m a gay man.  I’m the disabled.  I’m everything.”  You’re confused, is what you are.  At least she’s not still saying she’s an actress.  Not surprisingly, all the people who actually are any of these things she claimed to be but clearly is not did what they do and took offence.  Pages and pages of finger-wagging lecturing occurred, all of which can be summed up pretty accurately as, “You need to stay in your lane, you rich, white, privileged idiot.”

Maybe it’s because I’m Irish that I can’t stand this sort of shit.  We have been historically one of the most oppressed peoples in the United States, but anywhere in the world, including fucking British-occupied Ireland.  But that has exactly nothing to do with my or my fellow micks’ present day success or lack thereof.  We do not give even a whiff of fuck about anyone’s opinion or what anybody says about us.  In four days, it will be St. Patrick’s Day.  What’s the slogan?  “Today, everybody’s Irish.”  And what will everybody who is now Irish do?  Drink.  Because that’s what the Irish do.  And not only are we okay with this, but we actually encourage it.  And we fucking invented whiskey…I’m pretty sure if you go far back enough, the Celts will be found to have invented drinking.  So now we live in a world where the large vans police departments use to carry large groups of drunks to jail are called Paddy Wagons.  Yet there are no petitions being circulated to end this offensive and racist practice.  There are no protests.  Nobody cares.  Why?  Because it’s true!  Again, we invented whiskey.  We drink.  We are professionals at it.  So what?

It should not be offensive if it’s true, and if it is, you need to recalibrate your thinking, not attempt to change reality.

N.P. : “Ruby” – Tweaker, Will Oldham

Volvo announced Monday that beginning with their 2021 models going forward, all Volvos will have governors limiting their top speed to 112 mph.  This is fascist.  112?  Horseshit.  Not that I ever would have purchased a Volvo, but come on.  I know that Mercedes-Benz (which I very much see me purchasing) has limited its cars to 155 mph, which I’m fine with.  I’ve never driven a car 155 mph.  But I broke that 112  shit this very day.

I’ve been in a few very new cars recently that beeped annoyingly if it thought you were too close to another car.  And the goddamn sat nav openly bitches at you as soon as you violate the speed limit.  And people are buying these cars…spending rather a lot of money on them, in fact.  These cars should be available at unrealistic discounts.  I am not interested in what my fucking car thinks about my driving.  And I sure as hell don’t give a shit how fast the car maker thinks I should drive.  I actually had my mechanic disable the ABS in my present car.  “I will be doing the braking, thank you very much.”

What happened to car companies trying to build the fastest car on the market?  This world is getting more boring by the day.

N.P.: “Potions – Deliverance Mix” – Puscifer

Yep…mess around with the clocks and everything goes to hell.  I was walking through a park this afternoon when suddenly everything stank.  It was inescapable…the entire park reeked.  After a while, I thought maybe I’d stepped in dog shit, A quick check revealed that that wasn’t it.  I briefly suspected one of the humans just stinking to high hell, but there’s no way one person, no matter how repugnant, could stink up the entirety of a huge park.  Then I figured out the source: cherry blossoms.  The fucking cherry trees decided, what, a good 10 days before the start of spring, to blossom all over the place.  It’s quite disgusting.

It’s 6:17 and that stupid star is still in the sky.  Such solar silliness.

N.P.: “The Good Soldier” – Nine Inch Nails

Goddammit, dear reader.  They changed the fucking clocks again.  Delusional bastards.  And everybody just goes along with it.  Who cares if we just lost hundreds of millions of dollars in productivity.  So what if thousands of people have heart attacks who wouldn’t have (or at least they wouldn’t have today) if the government and the slavish unwashed rabble masses hadn’t gone fucking around with the clock again.

This is so stupid.

Now I have to walk around for 236 days with the gnawing and awful existential sensation that most of the otherwise educated world are walking around not knowing what time it actually is for no good reason at all.

This really is the silliest planet I’ve ever inhabited.

N.P.: “I Walk the Line” – Alien Sex Fiend

After the revolution, on my first day in office as President, or Sexy and Benevolent Leader, or Illustrious Potentate, or whatever of the United States, I will outlaw the observance of Daylight Saving Time.
A recent poll of random adults at the bar waiting for a table at Red Lobster in northern California revealed that 90% of all Americans think daylight saving time is an outdated and pointless exercise in arbitrary adherence to tradition.  The other 10% are idiotic twats.
I have never understood how so many allegedly intelligent, free-thinking people could be so-easily convinced to do something so fundamentally silly.  For four decades now, I’ve been listening to people embarrass themselves trying to explain their adherence to this absurdity, patiently enduring their assaults on logic and reason as they slowly reveal that they themselves don’t really understand this nonsense either.
There seem to be three basic arguments these pedants of chronology employ.  to wit:
  1. Benjamin Goddamit Franklin, may God rest his sweet, patriotic soul, invented daylight saving time just like he invented electricity and he was obviously a genius and how dare you or any other non-genius fuck with Uncle Ben’s ideas.   They didn’t put your ugly ass on the hundred dollar bill now, did they?  Alright, look…you need to remember a couple of things.  Absolutely, Ben Franklin was a genius.  A great many of his inventions propelled America and mankind into the future that we enjoy today.  However, Ben Franklin lived in a world without electric light and climate control.  His nights were lit solely by candles and oil lamps, and even though his idea of shifting the clock around was pretty clearly meant as a joke, and he had likely been into his cups when he wrote this letter, it did make some bit of sense then to suggest that opening business an hour earlier during certain months of the year would reduce candle usage. American businesses haven’t relied on candlelight or oil lamps in more than a century.  Even candle shops now use electric light and computers.  The position of the sun no longer has anything to do with when we can and cannot work, play, cook, read, et cetera.   If B.F. were alive today, I suspect he would want to pimp-slap all those who have mindlessly remained allegiant to daylight saving time.  He invented his stove to more efficiently heat houses: he would certainly acknowledge that central heating and air is a vastly more safe and effective method of climate control, and would likely insist on having it in his house.
  2. It will save energy and money.  Poppycock.  Patently untrue.  In fact, the exact opposite holds true: hundreds of millions of dollars are lost every year due to employees arriving late for work, conference calls and meeting missed, and overall productivity lost.  Doctors tell us that dicking around with the clock and one’s sleep schedule increases the chances of heart attack significantly, leading to hundreds of millions of more dollars lost in medical expenses.  Sleep loss, the disruption of the Circadian rhythm, greater susceptibility to illness…all of things lead to lost productivity, lost money, and ultimately increased energy resources. And having citizens in the work force arrive home at the hottest part of the day ends up using significantly more energy than would be used otherwise.  Just ask Arizona.  They ignore DST (as does Hawaii) and they do just fine.  In fact, neither of those states have nearly the same number of rolling blackouts during the summer as California does.  We have them regularly throughout the summer, during DSL.  There has never been a rolling blackout during Standard Time.
  3. The farmers need daylight saving time to order to harvest their crops and get all their work done during the summer.  I can’t even begin to understand this one.  And I think that’s because this one falls in to the very strange category of many of the other lines of rationale I’ve heard to justify the menace of DST: people seem to actually think that DST adds an hour of time to the day.  Like we ACTUALLY get an extra hour of daylight or the days are ACTUALLY an hour longer than they would be during Standard Time.  To these poor souls I can say only that I will include you in my nightly prayers and hope that you aren’t a registered voter.  Farmers go to work when the sun comes up, and they don’t spend the day watching the clock, waiting for 5 o’clock so they can knock off.  Hell no.  They quit work when it’s so dark they can’t see what they’re doing.  They don’t give the slightest of damns if you insist it’s 5:00pm or midnight: just stay out of their way.
The practice of hourly timekeeping only began in the United States once train travel began: people needed to know when the hell they needed to be at the station to catch their train.  Fair enough.  And today’s world is governed by the clock.  Fine.  But let’s just settle on what time it is and then leave it that way.

Lawd.  I am so tired.  How long can this go on?

You know what’s kind of cool, discerning reader?  You know how last week I wrote about Leo Moracchioli at Frogleap Studios in Norway who is recording songs, playing all the instruments, singing all the vocals, engineering, mixing and  mastering the audio, and then shooting and syncing an accompanying music video every week?!  Yeah.  And then remember when I had to write about how great Keith Flint was and his work with The Prodigy had been?  So today, as he does every Friday, Leo released a song and video.  This week’s offering:  a metal cover of “Firestarter.”  A song originally done exclusively on keyboards now exclusively done on guitars, which is impressive.  And it’s a fitting, moving tribute.  Well done, Leo.

Dude is brilliant.

What’s the craic, attractive reader?  I don’t think last night quite reached the level of what I’d consider a “breakthrough,” but it was a pretty good night.  I started writing something cool for the book pretty late, and I was messing around with speech-to-text, and ended up getting a lot of words down very quickly.  The thing I was working on would be a preface, which is a big step.  I have a lot of material, but it’s just kind of floating nebulous.  I think that once I have a solid opening and beginning, the rest of it will more or less fall into place.
N.P.: “The Number of the Beast” – Iron Maiden

Hotel California was struck by lightning this afternoon during a slightly massive thunderstorm that showed up over Anhedonia today and seemed to just gain strength as it came south to Fecal Creek.  At least that;’s the reason that goddamn charwoman gave me for all of my electronic appliances suddenly having clocks that blink 12:00 when I got home this afternoon.  She might not be lying.  I’ll have to review the security cam footage.

I am being exposed to someone who can’t seem to shut up about the idiotic “time change” coming up this weekend.  I am contemplating setting her on fire.  I mean, I won’t…the legal implications are far too severe to be acceptable.  But the thought crosses.

Okay, back to work.

N.P.: “Bad Things” – Jace Everett

Ain’t nothing going on here except the weather, dear reader, which is quite nice: dark and stormy.  I’m in pretty dark states of piss off about the oncoming return for stupid insipid and pathetic daylight saving time.  Stupidest thing.  I’m actually embarrassed that I’m forced to be a part of it.

Through a weird confluence of events, I ended up hanging out with a couple writers last night and had only whiskey for dinner.  It was like I was in Motley Crue.  Except I’m pretty sure Motley Crue did not have to wake up and dawn this morning and write a bunch of funny shit.  I doubt they even could.  But I can.  And I did.  Because I’m awesome.  Yeah.  Fuck Motley Crue.  They suck.  Buncha assholes.

N.P.: “Are Friends Electric?” – The Dead Weather