April 24, 2021

Today was weird.  Had both lunch and dinner at the same restaurant.  But not on purpose.  I mean it wasn’t a choice I made…things just worked out like that.  Ordered the exact same thing both times.  Which on the one hand seemed weird, but on the other hand made perfect sense…if that shit was delicious at lunch, then why wouldn’t it be delicious at dinner?  It was, of course, delicious both times.  Something about it felt slightly decadent, but I don’t know why.  Me having both lunch and dinner at the same place has only happened once previously, and that was 20 years ago in San Francisco.  That one was on purpose, though.

N.P.: “Better Get A Lawyer” – The Cruel Sea

April 23, 2021

Kinda pissed off again, dear reader.  The Angst is upon me again.  Which is no big deal these days…it’s here more often than not.

N.P,: “Help Me” – Sonny Boy Williamson II

April 22, 2021

Here’s what I’m talking about, dear reader: tonight, I ordered a brownie with dinner.  Simple, right?  So the thing gets here, but before I can eat it, I have to endure the brownie’s wrapper, which is covered in hippy propaganda: the fucking thing is called a “Manifesto Brownie.”  Goddammit, I just want a brownie, not some uneducated crystal rubber’s manifesto.  Next time I order a brownie, I’ll be sure to ask them to “please hold the manifesto.”  Which is a ridiculous thing to have to do, but here we are.  And good lord.  The wrapper boasts (I guess it’s a boast) that it has been crafted with “sustainable Peruvian chocolate.”  What’s that mean?  That the Peruvian natives can grow cocoa beans next year too?  They’ve been growing this shit for centuries.  Another little sticker proclaims, “Non GMO.”  Again, no clue, don’t care.  Here’s another one: “cage-free eggs.”  I just want to eat a brownie!  I don’t give a shit where the eggs came from, or what mood the hen was in when she laid them.
It’s just a brownie, no big deal.  But a recent survey found that an astounding 38% of consumers (democrats) base their purchases not on the quality of the product, but rather the PC virtue signaling of the company.  [Something like 10% of republicans confessed to thinking this way, and the libertarians just pointed guns at the survey-taker and politely invited them to mind their own business.]  This is dangerous thinking simply because as soon as the success of one’s product is not correlated to the quality of the product, quality goes out the window.  Competition ceases.  Which results in crap.  Let’s say there are two major smart phone companies.  Smart Phone Company A has a vastly superior product: it’s fast and stable, its technology is cutting edge.  Smart Phone Company B’s phone meets the minimum requirements for a smart phone, but that’s about all.  However, SPC B has all the right messaging and virtue signaling in their tremendously successful ad campaign, so their phones outsell SPC A’s phone.  The outcome of this is as inevitable as it is stupid.
This sort of nonsense is evidenced in the brownie’s wrapper’s complete dearth of claims about its tastiness.  There is no mention of taste at all.  It doesn’t claim to be delicious.  It doesn’t even claim to be particularly healthy, natural, or “organic.”  There is nothing here about the brownie at all…only how sensitive and PC the brownie makers are.  I would respect this brownie significantly more if the label read simply: “This brownie is delicious.  Fuck you.”  I would buy stock in that company.  Hell, I might start that company.  Not brownies, though.  My recipe still needs tweaking.

N.P.: “She’s Drunk All the Time” – Tim Timebomb

April 21, 2021

What’s crackin’, reader.
I’ve reached the point of No Mas with Americans and their bullshit PC culture.  And I’m increasingly inclined to have nothing to do with it.

N.P.: “Sixty Years” – Brian Setzer

April 19, 2021

Most of today has been dedicated to deciding whether or not the simply bitchin’ 18″ dragon skull is actually $100 worth of draconian coolness, or if I should wait for the bastard to go on sale.  I think it would really tie the rest of the Moonlight Garden of Good and Evil together.  I dunno.  It is pretty fucking cool.  And the garden is sorely lacking in skeletal remains from any species, fictional or otherwise.

N.P.: “Open Fire” – The Darkness

April 18, 2021

I’m in a bad mood, dearest reader.  All pissed off and inappropriately resentful of pretty much everybody.  Which is, of course, Not Your Problem.  It affects you only inasmuch as I’ll be using it as an excuse for my brevity here this evening.

N.P.: “Stray Bullets” – Tom Morello: The Nightwatchman

April 16, 2021

Well, shee-it.  Today was ostensibly supposed to be an unbusy day, but it ended up being busy as hell.  Not pointlessly so…I got rather a lot done.  But not enough.  Never enough.  There are a couple of things I’ve been working on for you, but it’s been tough to block out enough time to finish either one.  Soon, I hope.
I may have decided to turn the writing shed into a tiki lounge, thematically, at least for the summer.  I got an absurd tiki god statue that’s eyes glow red to guard the door.  Next up will be a snazzy set of tiki cocktail mugs to accommodate the annual switch from winter’s Jack and Coke to summer’s Jungle Juice™.  It’s a secret recipe concocted by yrs. truly in a dream I had where I was doing cocaine with Colonel Sanders on the porch of his plantation and the two of us were arguing ferociously about it being impossible to come up with a better summer drink than southern sweet tea.   It was about to come to blows when an angel named Wazoo intervened.  “Behold!  I am an angel of the Lord Our God and my name is Wazoo!”  Which drew not the hoped-for awe from the small crowd that had gathered, but rather a series of malicious snickers, which seemed to really depress Wazoo.  Dispirited, he trudged over to me and whispered the recipe to something he called Jungle Juice™ in my ear.  Then he called the colonel a series of hateful names, gave him a wet willy, and vanished.  That was the dream.  It was weird as hell, dear reader.  But when I woke up, I rushed to the kitchen, gathered the ingredients, and made the first Jungle Juice™.  That shit is delicious.
And but so anyway, yes…writing shed tiki lounge.

N.P.: “Assume the Position” – Lafayette Gilchrist, The New Volcanoes