Eclipse 2017 After Action Report: Part 01

T -40 days: The press indicates a celestial event will happen in August. Suuuure. I’ll believe it when I see it. They’re wrong about everything lately. If the press said fish swim in the ocean I’d expect tuna to start roosting in trees.

T -35 days: It appears to be legit. Who cares? I’ve seen an eclipse before.

T -34 days: No, I haven’t. What was I thinking? Who remembers an eclipse they didn’t see? What’s next? Will I recall landing under sniper fire in Bosnia? A helicopter breakdown in Iraq? The closest I’ve gotten is a few lunar eclipses and most years I catch he Perseids.

T -30 days: Since I’ve definitely never seen an eclipse I’m going to see this one. “I’ve never done it before” is a perfectly legitimate reason to do almost anything!

T -29 days: I gauge interest in the matter among my family. Mrs. Curmudgeon is all for a trip. Huzzah! The kids, following the protocol of all teenagers, grunt noncommittally. Teenagers, like lawyers, cannot answer any question with a clear affirmative or negative. Like I give a shit about their opinion. God is turning the dial to eleven for the music of the spheres and it’s got more cowbell! The trip is on!

T-28 days: The awesomely named “Zone of Totality” is going through some of my favorite stomping grounds! I wish it were hitting Burns, Oregon. I’m always up for a trip to Burns. I wonder if the snake is still there? I think I’ll bring my fishing pole. I like fishing!

T -27 days: Glasses? Who needs stinking glasses?

T -26 days: I need glasses. Going blind would suck.

T -25 days: Two hundred brands of “eclipse glasses” on Amazon but most are sold out and none are explicitly ISO 12312-2 rated. I order a 5 pack from somewhere outside of the Amazon ecosystem. Checkout is a PITA and shipping is usurious. (Note to Edna and other Grammar Nazis: yes, I know “usurious” is not quite correct since there is no loan involved but it sounds right to me and in 2017 that’s apparently all that’s necessary.) The amazingly complicated “shopping cart” is a drag. I remember now that shopping on the internet in the late 1990’s was a total bitch. Hence, Amazon’s current hegemony. Also, some dude wrote ISO 12312-2 specifications for “looking directly at the sun”. Someone buy that poor bastard a beer.

T -15 days: Hotel reservations become a clusterfuck: “What do you mean booked up?” So, this is a thing? Who knew!

T -14 days: After a few calls, I have hotel reservations. This is due to the fact that I’m a “platinum rewards, mega-executive, vibrating electron level, hyper, ultra, super customer”. Also, I have (totally out of habit) plotted the intersection of eclipse path and low population density. Nobody but dirt and prairie dogs in my target area. Perfect!

T -13 days: Mrs. Curmudgeon and I discuss the itinerary I’ve devised;

“We’re going where? Again!?! Can’t we stay in a civilized location? What about Bend?”

“Last time I was in Bend I got patchouli all over me. It’s a formerly cool town but the hipsters own it now. More mimes than men. It’s enemy territory. Let it go.”

“You can fish there.”

“Fly fishermen… I’ve nothing to wear. There will be man-buns riding mountain bikes. Vegans in spandex. The horror.”

“It’s pretty there, you like the volcanoes in the Cascade range, and the beer is good.”

“Beer? Good point. Hipsters do beer rather well. OK if you find a hotel I promise not to whine about the excessive cost. Or I’d be happy to camp. Better to reserve a campsite somewhere. Camping’s cool! I like to camp you know…”

[Stay tuned…]

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Eclipse Advice

I’ll be busy staring at the sun all day. Rather than a regular post I’ll leave you with Dave Barry who has all the answers:

Q. What will I experience during the eclipse?

A. It will get dark.

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Mad Max Is Real / We All Knew This Was Coming

Watch this:

Motorcyclists attacking a sugar truck because they’re starving. That’s some Mad Max shit right there! (Hat tip to Moonbattery.)

I remember when Hugo Chavez was elected. It was a train wreck in slow motion and I couldn’t look away. I knew how it would end. So did anyone who’s learned anything from history. What annoyed me most was that the American press got its panties wet about how super-awesome everything was going to be. This is proof that not a damn one of them has a clue. Communism/Socialism sounds nice on paper but it’s got a track record of famine, poverty, and oppression; with a heapin’ helping of death en masse. I remember thinking “those poor bastards in Venezuela are going to learn the lesson good and hard“. I wished innocents didn’t have to go through yet another meatgrinder but it is what it is.

So now I’m putting on my shocked face and reporting that Venezuela continues to suck a little worse every day; the same fate as all countries that go Full Retard Socialist. The press doesn’t much notice Venezuela now. They too busy wearing Che Guevara shirts to Whole Foods and being wrong about everything.


Therefore I propose the Quit Being A Dumbass Act of 2017:

Whereas:

  1. Any system that screws a relatively rich country until there are videos of a desperate raid on a sugar truck is a really really really bad system.
  2. When #1 involves a horde on motorcycles attacking a moving semi with Molotov cocktails that’s pretty much the exact plot of Mad Max.
  3. Nobody wants to live through Mad Max.
  4. Dipshits in the media who were America’s public fluffers for Chavez somehow persist. They jumped all over Chavez’ glorious beginning but never the predictable end game. (Heard an article about Venezuela on NPR lately?) The word for this is bias and it’s no accident.

Therefore be it resolved that:

  1. Socialism/Communism always winds up with privation and misery. Don’t do it.
  2. Anyone who writes positively about the rise of a brutal overlord will get a free all-expenses one way ticket to the hellhole of their choice but only ten years later. That way they get to see the mess their ideals wrought. They will be airdropped with three dollars in their pocket, a Che Guavara shirt, and their precious socialist theories. I wish them luck as they experience the Utopia they desired.
  3. There is a place reserved in special hell for former Massachusetts Democratic Representative Joseph P. Kennedy II. Kennedy got involved giving away “free” oil Chavez had “nationalized”. That’s not just dirty, it’s special hell dirty.

Ugh, the stupid… it burns.

A.C.

P.S. I can’t independently verify this video. I wasn’t there. I’m thankfully sitting fat and happy on a freezer full of bacon in a different hemisphere. Hopefully the driver wasn’t injured. If nobody got hurt there’s still hope. Also, anyone reading this who’s physically in Venezuela please drop me a private note ’cause I wanna’ talk. I’d sure appreciate it. I promise I’m not trying to sell aluminum siding or anything.

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Sarah Helps With Bullshit Detection

I’ve dimly registered the press’ thundering blovation about last week’s protest (complete with photogenic mayhem and injury) in Charlottesville. In my last post I shrugged it off.

“Nitwits in face masks are hitting each other with sticks at the base of a statue. Meanwhile smart people are flying to space. Just as it has ever been.”

Yet somehow folks think this is a legitimate nation-shaking threat. It’s not! How can anyone fret over fucking Nazis in Virginia? Why not get spastic over Sasquatch rape in Seattle? Nazis in 2017 can’t be a thing; we pounded them to dust in 1945 and they were a joke by 1980. (In case you’re keeping count, Jake and Elwood were pissing in the Nazi’s Cheerios 37 years ago. That was before the invention of the iPhone, tofurkey, or a $4 Starbuck’s latte.) Post WW2 Nazis have been widely accepted as the tiniest little cul-de -sac in a vast universe of stupid people for over half a century.

Who dug them up and resurrected them to be today’s unrealistic strawman? Was there a vote? Where was my ballot? Because I’d vote for snakes and realtors.

Can’t social justice warriors come up with something better than non-existent weirdos who didn’t get the memo seven decades ago? Perhaps a kitten in a tree in Des Moines was eaten by Satanist cheese vendors and now all the righteous need to cower from Velveeta?

Especially confusing are folks who project this like everyone who isn’t gay or black and lives below the Mason-Dixon line is a raving Nazi shithead who started hunting hippies for sport on Friday. The lady doth protest too much, methinks. That fevered notion is coming from inside their pointy heads because I can tell you right now it ‘aint reality. Trust me on this, if rednecks were the violent racists they’re treated like, every goddamn Whole Foods from Tuscon to Buffalo would be knee deep in dead adjunct professors and gutted trustifarians by sunset tomorrow. Some people talk and some people do. Rednecks do.

So if you’re a terrified snowflake, remember that you need to drive your Prius to a distant location at a specific time on specific date just to get hollered at. That’s not open season. That’s you shitting yourself in a modern peaceful land of plenty.

Finally, in a sea of bullshit, one voice rang true. Thank God for Sarah Hoyt who wrote Dear Leftists, There Are No Nazis Under Your Bed. She did the math (yes, I know that math is hard but pay attention here) and came up with a rough estimate of how many super Nazi avenger death-people were at the protest:

“So a hundred, maybe four hundred…  … Out of a nation of three hundred million.”

Thank you Sarah, for being the first person to put a number to this earth shattering looming menace. (The press seemed to have gone out of it’s way to avoid stating the exact size of these ultra dangerous hordes.)

Now we know, the Tiki-torch carrying front honor guard to Cthulhu is in the 100-400 range. I’m unimpressed. All this rending of garments and donning of hair shirts is from fewer people than can fit in just one mid-sized mall theater? Really? The sum total of all the left’s fears and terrors can fit in a couple Greyhound buses? One McDonalds? A large bowling league? Talk about gutless whining nincompoops. Get a sense of scale; and then get a grip!

Sarah continues:

“…that’s one in every seven hundred and fifty thousand people in America.”

So, the nation is supposed to melt down due to a threat that’s a ratio of…

1:750,000

That’s nothing! There’s higher odds I’ll shit a gold brick while humming the Star Spangled Banner during next week’s solar eclipse. That means the worst possible scenario allocates precisely one of these half imagined lunatics for the state of Alaska. Wyoming gets three quarters of an imaginary lunatic. Even the mighty juggernaut of California, America’s most populous state, has just over fifty of them. I’m pretty sure there are more one armed, psychotic, Esperanto speaking, left handed dog walkers in LA.

There is no way in God’s green earth I can break out in hives for a “threat” that’s less common than one armed, psychotic, Esperanto speaking, left handed dog walkers!

I call bullshit. This is shark week for the bored and over-contented.

Sarah is not worried either. As always, she says it better than I:

“A lot of us refuse to look at a fight between neo-Nazis and communists, both in minuscule numbers, and see the Ragnarok you’ve been predicting.”

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Guess What Nobody Noticed While Everyone Was Flaking Out

Last Friday a bunch of people from Team A got permits, traveled to a location, and marched around. They were met by a bunch of people from Team B, who did not get a permit, but traveled to the same location and marched around too. Some of the guys on Team A were kinda’ sketchy while others were not. Team B also has some folks who are sketchy and others who are not. Team A had a bunch of Tiki torches while Team B sported an improvised flamethrower. Thus, proving both groups have successfully mastered the technology of fire. Folks on both sides also used sticks and shields. There was a lot of screaming but there is no photographic evidence of feces flinging.

Eventually someone wound up dead and the press rolled in it like a dog in roadkill. They’ve been bored since they dropped the “Russia, Russia, Russia” narrative and were happy to jump on the “racist, racist, racist” bandwagon. As required by tradition and sentiment, they explain this is caused by deplorable assholes who should obey their betters. Also it’s the fault of an evil orange pretender to Hillary’s throne. Apparently he’s from New Jersey and therefore icky.

I ignored it, because “duh“.

Meanwhile, people who studied STEM in college continued being awesome. Monday they did this:

Time for a Curmudgeonly Gem of Insight:

“Nitwits in face masks are hitting each other with sticks at the base of a statue. Meanwhile smart people are flying to space. Just as it has ever been.”

Have a great day y’all!

AC

P.S. Hat tip to Sondrakistan.

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People Will Die

Won’t someone think of the children!

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Google Memes

I’m a sucker for a good visual joke:

The one above gets a hat tip to Moonbattery. The rest are just sorta’ floating randomly (if you have a source please tell me and I’ll attribute it).

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Squirrel Hiatus

I’m sipping coffee after working on my PAWIRNEATT (Project About Which I’d Rather Not Elaborate At This Time). My thickness planer is heavenly, I have sawdust in my nose, and I didn’t cut off a finger in the bandsaw. It’s a good time to be alive.

Then I think “I must get back to the squirrel story. I haven’t written the explosion yet. Nor the cosplayers. And there’s the part about the fish!” But the coffee was good so I sought an excuse. “I’ll check the news. Maybe there’s been an outbreak of sanity and I can put fiction on the back burner a while.”


How to detect an outbreak of sanity:

Did people start acting like adults? It could happen. Look for reports of nitwits with power they didn’t earn, don’t need, and can’t handle. If I they’re missing then the pendulum has swung towards a reality based universe and it’s time to cool the fiction writing.

  • Did a big organization forget its purpose and act like a raving jackass?

You can’t go long without some large organization completely forgetting it’s reason to exist and behaving like a toddler with a hatchet. The usual winners in this reverse-lottery are the airlines and the vast field of Orwellian incompetence we used to call journalism. United did it’s share when they beat a paying customer and dragged him off a plane. Then, CNN stepped into the breech and went full retard over a silly joke. If companies like United focused on flying airplanes and CNN tried the novel idea of reporting news(!) they wouldn’t fall prey to serial face-plants.

Who picked up where United and CNN faded out? It was Google!

A Google employee posited a well reasoned discussion of the pros and cons of favoring biological diversity (race, sex, etc…) over ideological diversity (different opinions and approaches etc…). He also suggested that men and women might have different preferences in terms of careers in computer programming. The monster! I read his whole text. It wasn’t particularly overboard. You don’t have to agree with him if you don’t want to. There’s room in the world for all kinds of ideas and… Bwa ha ha ha that’s adult language. Instead a loud majority got high on groupthink and charged off the cliff.

Given the chance to react like sane adults who’ve lived a few years and possibly have met and spoken to both men and women… on earth… Google shit its pants. They fired his ass toot sweet. Meanwhile the press twisted it into some kind of female bashing manifesto of doom. It turns out men and women are exactly 100% alike except we need more female computer programmers because they’re 100% the same in a better diverse way. A million articles and not one mentioned the technology of search engines. Funny thing that.

Thus, Google fulfilled this month’s “nitwit of the moment” checkbox. Also, just to make it funnier, many female Google employees took the day off ’cause they had the vapors. Awesome!

Google forgot it’s a for profit search engine and targeted marketing company. They fired the shit out of some fellow for “perpetuating gender stereotypes” as if “gender role analysts” make computers run. A computer search company, shouldn’t give a flying fuck about anyone’s opinions about anything.

“Fred, how’s it going?”

“I was busy all weekend. I set fire to my left nipple, built a race car out of three dishwashers and a jet engine, planted heirloom tomatoes, wrote a poem, adopted a lizard, got a tattoo of Barbra Streisand on my nutsack, and shoved a beer can up my ass on stage in Tijuana. This morning, on company time, I wrote a new algorithm that shaves 0.000001% off a search routine.”

“0.000001%? Awesome! Keep up the good work.”

Firing people for “sucking a computer programming” is the only thing Google should be doing… and this is because they’re not allowed to execute shitty programmers. Google is legally obligated to stockholders to stay focused on getting rich and nothing else. That’s what “for profit company” means.

Also, Google pays real American dollars for a Vice President of Diversity, Integrity and Governance. That’s California-speak for “Soviet apparatchik”. Aside from the janitor (who they might contract out) why have anyone on staff who isn’t writing code every goddamn day?

Time for a Curmudgeonly Gem of Insight:

“Once a company has the scratch to hire a Vice President of Diversity, Integrity and Governance it’s time to put some kid from Tatooine into an X-wing and make a run at their exhaust ports.”

  • Did something super, extra, mega gay happen and were we ordered to be impressed by such bravery?

A few years ago it was a former track and field star, turned reality TV show um… actor(?), who turned into a female shaped object for the cover of Vanity Fair. Then it was a few years of “bake me a cake you homophobic peon” and “who gets to shit where while shopping at Target?” It calmed down for a while. Now it’s Vogue with a pardoned formerly court-marshaled quasi-female thing wearing a swimsuit on their cover.

Predictably, we’re told this is brave and awesome. Because in modern America, women are exactly equal to men in programming and male-based humans are exactly perfect for filling out a swimsuit.

  • Is Trump going to be impeached by next Wednesday due to Russia, Russia, Russia…?

I’m not sure what happened here. There’s less news coming out of this six month nothingburger. I’ve been enjoying the sillyness. I chuckle at the “62,984,825 people voted for Trump but they were all Russian spies” theory. You gotta’ roll up a copy of The New York Times and smoke it to get high enough for that one to seem more plausible than “Hillary lost because she didn’t win”.

“I’ll take ‘What’s got less hard evidence than Bigfoot’ for $200 Alex.”

It’s a portent of sanity as it seems to be fading. Like herpes there will probably be periodic painful inflammations (likely emanating from CNN) but I guess the party is over? Score one for everyone calming down?

  • Is a socialist/totalitarian shithole threatening to attack somewhere most Americans can’t find on a map? Are we being told this is a big fat hairy deal?

Bill Clinton gave North Korea Danegeld in 1994 to lay off making nukes. This has been tried before:

“But we’ve proved it again and again,
That if once you have paid him the Dane-geld
You never get rid of the Dane.”

Twenty-three years later North Korea has nukes, they spent the money, and they’re still an oppressive shithole. They were given stern warning about rockets so no way that… Whoops now they finally have rockets. Funny how that works.

Perusing news articles after the fact it seems like folks tried to get upset that an ICBM would hit Alaska. It didn’t seem to take. Then they postulated that maybe Korea could hit Hawaii or California. For whatever reason nobody freaked over Hawaii and probably half of us cheered over the California thing. Then they started talking about Guam.

This one took root. Why we care about Guam more than Honolulu is beyond me? Maybe if I worked at Google and had a subscription to Vanity Fair it would all make sense.

At any rate I have no commentary about North Korea. They’ve been fucking with us over for 23 years and like an abusive co-dependent nimrod we keep “engaging”. I’m not sure what’ll happen. I hope nobody gets hurt. Probably it’ll all blow over.


Conclusion?

People are fuckin’ nuts! None of the stuff I mentioned was even remotely sane (aside from the odd radio silence about why Trump is “super definitely toast this time”).

It’ll be forgotten as soon as something more weird happens. Presumably a shark will attack Britney Spears who’s just come out as a male transgendered freight hauler from New Jersey, CNN will blame Russia, Google will censor it, United will drop a plane on it, and Lil’Kim will be sad and lonely ’cause nobody cares about him.

My survey of the news is complete. Time to write more tales of Lesbian Activist Squirrels. Look for the next installment by next week.

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Billy Deploys An Attitude Adjustment: Part 12: These Are Not The K-cups You Are Looking For

Twitch clutched Billy’s box of K-cups like a drowning man might grasp a life preserver. His eyes were wide and he was stringing together irrelevant movie quotes. Billy was maneuvering slowly and confidently; a prizefighter preparing for a one punch win.

“If you strike me down I shall become more powerful than you can possibly imagine.” Twitch bluffed.

“Good. Bad. I’m the one with the gun.” Billy responded, not bluffing.

“For God’s sake, BUY the K-cup!” Doogie pleaded. “Can’t you see he’s got a thing about theft?”

“Hanging’s too good for him.” Billy agreed.

Twitch reached into his pocket and retrieved six credit cards; two were maxed out, one belonged to his grandmother, one was only activated in Lithuania, but the other two had a few hundred each.

“Cash only!” Billy rumbled “Never debt.”

Twitch hadn’t used or possessed actual dollars since… Actually never. Twitch was of the generation that saw greenbacks as quaint and silly; like cassette tapes, manual transmission cars, and physical labor. Desperate and unwilling to give in, he did his best Jedi mind control voice; “You will not attack me.”

Billy stopped his menacing approach, stood up from his fighting stance, and let his arms fall loose to his sides. “OK” Billy said meekly, “I will not attack you.” Doogie and Achmed looked at each other. Did the Jedi mind trick really work? Twitch was amazed. All he had to do was THAT? If the “these are not droids you are looking for” method worked, he was gonna’ get so laid at the next Comic Con.

“However,” Billy shrugged, “the bear will do it me.” He smiled to himself, situational awareness is like magic in front of muggles. He’d seen the bear coming because he was paying attention.

Twitch, confused by Billy’s sudden pacifism, turned around just as a charging bear hurled itself through the door. He let out a high-pitched shriek that sounded like kittens being electrocuted. This startled Bart who let out a low menacing roar suitable for constipated bulldozers.

What ensued was truly epic. Whomever coined the term “bull in a china shop” had never seen a bear in a convenience store.

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Billy Deploys An Attitude Adjustment: Part 11: K-Cup Showdown

Billy and Doogie had just started mopping the floor when ECTO1 nearly plowed into the store. Achmed blinked in confusion. Doogie looked pensive. Billy beamed. Nothing says America like a private freelance ghost extermination team.

“Who ya’ gonna’ call?” Billy asked aloud.

“DON’T SAY IT!” Twitch erupted through the door, arms flailing.

“You drive a 1959 Cadillac hearse with a movie franchise logo on the side and you don’t want to hear the catch phrase?” Billy sneered.

“GHOSTBUSTERS!” Doogie shouted, grinning.

Twitch grabbed a bag from a nearby display and threatened to assault Doogie with a Super-sized Funyuns Pack.

“What on earth is a Ghostbuster?” Achmed interrupted.

Everyone paused, they all turned to Achmed.

“Really?” Billy growled.

Achmed suddenly felt very far from home. “Don’t throw coffee at me, I beg of you.”

All eyes turned to Billy’s three remaining cups, still steaming hot. Twitch focused on them like a laser. “COFFEE! NOW!!” Twitch reached for Billy’s coffee. “Nope.” Billy swatted Twitch like a gorilla might brush away a Chihuahua. Twitch fled to the coffee aisle and found it empty.

“IT’S ALL GONE!”

“Do you always speak in all caps?” Doogie teased.

“I got some coffee right here.” Billy warmed to the pitch.

“NEED IT!” Twitch staggered over Billy’s mop bucket and began pleading which, as is common these days, was a combination of whining and angry demands.

“One dime!” Billy cackled “Junk silver, two and a half grams melt value ought to do it.” He held out his hand as if everyone is carrying bullion. Incensed, Twitch grabbed one of Billy’s boxes of K-cups and waved it in front of the register’s UPC reader.


In an undisclosed location monitoring software which had been silent for weeks went apeshit. A logic statement had changed state! The NSA analyst leaned forward in his chair. He clicked a few keys. Monitors lit up with real-time video feeds. He grinned with malevolent satisfaction as he picked up one of his “special” phones. He loved using those phones!

“Get a chopper in the air. Now! I’ll brief you en route.”


Back in the store Achmed was wondering why the register had suddenly stopped working. Apparently, trying to sell more K-cups than the store actually had (by scanning one of Billy’s boxes a second time) had crashed the system.

Meanwhile Twitch was backing away from Billy while still clutching the box. Billy started stretching his neck in anticipation of some light aerobic exercise.

“You,” Doogie scolded “make bad decisions.”

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