Adaptive Curmudgeon

Selling pork for cash looks weird to urbanized 2014 America but it’s OK. Bacon is not a crime!

Flashback to a zillion years ago. I was young and broke and needed to get from point A to point B to take a shitty seasonal job. (This was back when poor people had jobs and I had better hair.) I bought, at a pittance, a used commercial vehicle. I licensed it, insured it, learned the magic voodoo of double clutching, threw some scrounged tools in the back, and hit the road. It broke down over and over, I patched it together over and over. So long as it kept rolling I was happy.

I lived in that beast while I worked. It sucked compared to a real house but the rent was cheap and I was tough. Besides, real houses suck too. I saw a lot of the country. I never paid for a hotel. I tried to pick a nice view every time I moved. Deserts, mountains, plains, and coasts; for a while, it was my personal back yard.

When I was at the wheel, with all my shit stowed and food in the cooler and a bed to sleep in and Mrs. Curmudgeon happily riding shotgun… what more did I need? I was the pauper captain of my own rusting leaking barely running ship. Some men never feel that free. I was lucky and I knew it. I still miss it.

Flashback to a zillion years ago minus a few. The vehicle was gone and I’d wound up in Europe; once again chasing a job. (This was back when Europe had jobs.) Some local friends and I were discussing our various exploits and I mentioned my days as a nomad.

“But that’s illegal.” They gushed.

“What’s illegal about a shitty old vehicle?” I asked.

“It’s a commercial truck. How could they let you own one?”

“Let?” I bellowed. “They don’t let me do a god-damn thing. There’s no magic about it. If I can afford it, I can have it.” I pointed to a small (European sized) paving truck across the street. “If I feel like driving around in a cement mixing truck and can afford the truck and the fuel, it’s nobody’s business but mine.”

“But you have to be a cement company.”

“No you don’t.”

Luckily the discussion veered to other topics and more wine arrived. I still remember that moment. It realized that Americans really are a different breed. I was shocked that my good friends simply assumed something was illegal because it was unusual. (Heck, it was stupid and expensive too, but it was definitely legal.)

Everything which is not forbidden is allowed. I believe that. I intend to stick with it until they plant my ass in the ground.

That was then and this is now. In my life I’ve seen a lot of water pass under the bridge and I’ve learned that freedom is a living thing. It’s complicated. It comes from within.

Freedom is relative. It’s not about tanks in the streets if your HOA wants to nitpick about the color of your mailbox. It’s not about freedom of speech if you really need your job and your boss is a tyrant. It’s not about gun rights if you own a business in California and you’re worried about being trapped there as the forever hated (and perpetually exploitable) 1%.

It it freer to have gay marriage and a smoking ban? Is it freer to have a president who smoked pot by breaking the law, or a state created medical marijuana monopoly, or legal pot and cops stopping cars at the state line?

America is different but the same. Americans are different but some are the same. Europeans? Who fuckin’ knows. I wish them well but they seem doomed. If I ever go back I’ll drop by London and ask around. Perhaps young Muhammad of London still believes Europe is free or maybe he’ll just say that while playing with his smartphone (monitored by the NSA?) under the eye of a CCTV (monitored by who?). The world is a confusing place. Concealed carry is old news to me, a new but viable thing in Russia, legally granted but bureaucratically impossible in D.C. , and the once mighty but now supine Brits are debating cooking equipment. So which is freer? A Brit with a constitution that can’t carve a turkey or a pistol packing Russian who’s getting shaken down by the cops?

I went a bit afield there eh? Drank too much coffee I guess.

The point is that I’ve had many people, a few on the blog and many more privately freak out about homegrown food. What worries me is that they’re so quick to give up. Bureaucratically annoying is not the same as impossible. Not yet at least.

Yes there are a lot of regulations. Yes, it’s a pain in the ass to follow them all. Yes, the government would be a lot happier if I’d stay in a cubicle and buy my food at Wal-Mart.

Even so, it’s legal to raise food and (provided you jump through hoops) sell it. It’s legal to make cash transactions in a parking lot. (I report it on my taxes.) I think all of us, who value freedom so highly, should endeavor to do all those things which are legal but annoy regulators. It’s our civic duty. Don’t bail out on the easy freedoms which are still available to us.

Back in October I mentioned that I was going to sell our farm raised pork using a totally untested method. Being the rash unmanageable maniac I am, I was going to ask for a specific numeric amount of cash in exchange for the pork. Nobody in farm country does this; ever. I think it’s probably a rural religious thing that’s deeply rooted in farmer’s souls. I explained it here:

• Bacon Update: Part 2: Scoring Bacon From A Pusher
  

  You’re radiating confusion… …No money changed hands, you don’t know what you’ll get, you don’t know how much you’ll pay, you don’t know when it’ll happen…

  Three weeks later your cell phone rings while you’re in the middle of a business meeting… “Your pig is done. I close at five.”…

  You go back to the meeting and explain that your child just got struck by lightning. Therefore you must leave right away.

  …Bill sticks the rest in an old waxed box and hands you a bill for what appears to be a random amount… …You still don’t quite know what you’ve received or how the amount you paid was determined. They might as well be using a roulette wheel.

• Bacon Update: Part 3: The Barter Economy
  

  “Yes I am selling pigs. Do you want one?”

  “Yes! Yes I do! How much?”

  “I have no idea whatsoever.”

Well I stood up to the world and won! I set a solid, numeric price and sold that way. I took on all the expense of the actual farming (which is a huge risk), then I took a deep breath and doubled down. I paid (out of pocket) the butchering cost (which ‘aint cheap). Then I gambled with hanging weight and a bunch of other unknowables by promising “at least” so much weight (and I exceeded that weight and let the customer enjoy their good fortune of getting a bit more than I promised).

I boiled a thousand unknowns into a price and I sold at that price. It’s not as easy as it looks.

Because I took on all that risk (and hassle) I reached markets that aren’t normally willing to buy directly from a farm. Not everyone is cut out to wander around farm country trying to score ham. I was trying to reach these people… because I care. Also because bacon.

Since I was taking on extra risk and doing more work and trying to reach untapped markets I charged fairly high; probably a bit more than one would pay if you bought from a local small farm and paid the usual random “by the pound plus butchering fees and an extra ten bucks if I need to pay alimony that week” pricing scheme. Doing all the leg work myself was a big hassle but I think it made for happy customers and allowed me to sell at a “value added” price.

Also our pork was epic quality. I expected good and got amazing. The kind of delicious taste that inspires sagas and poetry and becomes pretty much the apex of civilization. It was outrageously good. We had some on Thanksgiving and it was like nothing I’ve experienced. I think that big huge pen and all the exercise (and good bloodlines) combined to make the leanest tastiest pork I’ve ever encountered; and that’s not an exaggeration.

From a purely economic point of view, the perfect price starts when you cover all your expenses (piglets, feed, fencing, etc…), allow for risk, ensure a fair profit, an dvalue your labor at more than zero. Ha ha ha… like that’s ever happened in homesteading. Take it from me, if you’re raising food and selling it, you’re getting hosed. Switch to selling semiconductors or crack.

But suppose you’re so stupid that you can’t help yourself. (I’m not the only one. It’s something that attracts fools and believers. You know why family farmers have “day jobs”? Because they’re idiots. Nobody works a “day job” to support their hobby of accounting. Folks  don’t work nights and weekends as a dentist to support their hobby as a transmission mechanic. Farming is not terribly wise if you’re in it exclusively for the money.) Embrace it and get on with it.

So back at the drawing board I picked what I thought the market would bear and hopefully make a fair profit (maybe). Everything was based on imperfect information. I didn’t even know the butchering fee until I’d already paid it. Capitalism is a crapshoot.

If I priced too low, people would stampede and shove money in my pockets, and then I’d work to death for hardly any profit. I’ve done that before with meatbirds.

If I priced too high, nobody would buy and I’d wind up with 600 pounds of meat to eat. Hm… is that really so bad? First world problem right?

Well I priced high and at first got no takers. I was pretty worried. Maybe I’d been too greedy. I dropped it a tiny bit and prepared to freak out if nobody called.

Then, gradually and from unexpected sources, we made a sale here and there. We sold 1/2 pig at a time. (That was part of my idea to make the price more accessible to a consumer who can’t handle a full pig’s worth of food or muster a full pig’s worth of cash.)

We’re just a homestead so we didn’t need to close many deals. Even so, each deal wound up being logistically complex and nerve racking. Also, delivering meat to a mutually convenient location, such as a parking lot, is totally legal but looks massively illegal. I’m just sayin’. (If you see a guy accepting an envelope full of crinkled bills while handing over many small white packages from the back of a truck… that’s me selling bacon and not Tony Montana.)

Because this was our first season, each sale was a celebration. I’d clutch the money like Scrooge McDuck and jump for joy. Of course the money instantly evaporated but it’s still a nice feeling when you make an honest buck.

One memorable sale left us with a handful of cash and everyone was in very high spirits. On the way home we and some friends were attacked by a Japanese hibachi grill. What a party! We burned half the profits in an hour long sake soaked blast. No regrets.

We wanted to keep 1/2 pig for ourselves. We wound up with two halves left. Ah well, I’d priced too high. I guess I’d learned my lesson. Also more bacon for me.

Then, when I’d given up hope, Mrs. Curmudgeon closed on the last 1/2, hauled it off, and made the sale. Now that I think about it, I never saw the money. It never occurred to me to wonder about it until now. I knew I married a brilliant woman.

Having lined up just exactly the bare minimum customers to clear our meagre inventory I’m convinced I picked just the right price. Another nickel higher and I’d have lost a few sales and would balloon on a full winter’s all pork diet. Another dime lower and I wouldn’t have been able to afford that extra appetizer at the hibachi grill. Yin and yang.

There’s nothing to do but wait for spring and try the whole fool cycle again. I figure we’ll get a few repeat customers (the meat was really really really good) and start advertising earlier and all will be well.

Today I got a call that reaffirmed my plans.

“Do you have any more pork? Customer X gave me your phone number.”

“I’m sorry. It’s all gone.”

“Oh bummer. Customer X recommended it highly.”

“Yeah, we cooked some for Thanksgiving and I’m still beside myself with joy.”

“I want one for next year!”

“Well I don’t want to pressure you…”

“I missed out. Was it that good?”

“Yes, your life is not complete because you haven’t tasted this pork.”

“Here’s my number. Call me.”

“Will do.”

Isn’t that grand? Sometimes the good guys win! Also, I think next weekend I’m going back to that hibachi place. It’s expensive but I’m a rich pork farmer now.

The press this week has been so removed as to be from a different planet. They’re getting the vapors over Ferguson. They made Ferguson. Who panics when they succeed in what they were trying to do?

It’s as if I spent all week stacking a cord of wood and then flipped out. “There’s a goddamn pile of wood right on the lawn! How could that happen? What are the root causes of all this freakin’ wood? What shall the Government, which is the solution to all things, do to remove the horrible wood problems which plague the innocent lawn?”

It’s pretty much a law of nature. The press eggs on the free shit army until it is firmly fastened on the teat of the race warriors, then people steal shit and someone burns down an Autozone. What’s new about that?

I can’t take it seriously because, for a certain portion of America, riot is their amusement. You can tell it’s a game. There are Americans who’ve “attended” riots like others might attend a sporting event or maybe a rock concert. The rest of us have work to get done. For example, I need to stack firewood on the lawn.

I don’t riot and even if I thought the whole world was against me I wouldn’t burn down a building filled with spark plugs. Even if I was trapped and desperate. Even if Al Gore was charging at me from the left; mounted on his magic Unicorn of wishful thinking and brandishing his +1 Lance of Moral Superiority. Even if Vladimir Putin was stripping down and oiling up his pecks and preparing to get Orwellian on me. Even then it wouldn’t pop into my head that the solution was to torch the place where the Chilton repair manuals live. That’s target selection failure which  reminds me of Steve Martin shouting “he hates these cans“.  I guess that makes me boring.

I’ll take Ferguson rioters seriously when they behave seriously. Even if “the man” really is keeping you down, you won’t find “the man” stacking fan belts. Call me when they deliberately toast the capital. That happened in the war of 1812. Britain wanted overthrow the reining power and they were serious about it. So they showed up with an Army, marched to the capital, and flattened America’s seat of power. They didn’t come over here to make a lot of noise and burn up a delicatessen.

Shit’s not real until it’s really shit. Ferguson is sad and there’s nothing good about pain, violence, and arson, but it’s mostly just people crapping in their own litterbox. ‘Nuff said about that.

A hastily composed, unordered, random list of things for which I’m thankful.

• Mrs. Curmudgeon and various friends and relatives are happy, healthy, and none are currently pissed off; especially at me.
• I’m in a country and society where I’m allowed to pray or not pray on Thanksgiving. I can also eat Chinese food on Thanksgiving if I wish (that would suck but I’m all about having options). I can abstain from watching football and there’s no shortage of toilet paper. Truly a blessed land!
• I paid off my student loans. That happened many years ago but I’m still pretty damned happy about it.
• An entire 24 hours in which I’m not going to do any work. (Except I was on a ladder this morning, and did some dishes, and…. wait a minute.  Damn it! OK fine it’s 24 hours in which I’m going to do not much work.)
• The mechanic finally managed to “reboot” my Dodge. I managed to “reset” my Kindle. My laptop is fading but functional and my shortwave radio is shit but due for replacement. Overall I call it a win.
• I have a job. Sometimes I bitch about it but at least I’m bringing money in.
• Deadly Ebola got to American shores lookin’ to make a name for itself. The CDC and the Federal Government more or less laid out a red carpet for it and a couple folks did their best to infect everything in sight. Despite all that, for the moment at least, it has completely crapped out. We owe this miracle to the fact that Americans take hygiene really seriously? Regardless of the reason, it’s good news so far. (No, I don’t think the Ebola story is over… but let’s enjoy the fact that the shit didn’t hit the fan just yet.)
• The electric power is on. The internet is functioning.
• The toilet is functioning. Nobody cares about lights and the internet if the septic is stopped up.
• The pigs were a success (which makes up for the field cultivation which wasn’t). Pork is on the menu today.
• Peaceful elections. Sure they won’t change everything overnight or possibly anything ever but times with elections are better than times without.
• Disco is still dead.
• On a personal note, participation in an undisclosed sporting activity has been rough on me lately, but not enough to stop me. I’m glad I’m still at it. I won’t provide details so don’t ask.
• I spent Thanksgiving in a hospital a few years back. I’m thankful the hospital was there when I needed it. I’m thankful I got there under my own power and cut through red tape before I croaked on the ER floor while the drones filled out forms in triplicate. I’m thankful the herds of morons throughout the entire system parted like the red sea for a surgeon who was skilled and forthright. I’m thankful that it probably won’t happen again.
• Deer season this year was simple, easy, and successful. Hunting is never a sure thing. Venison will be a part of today’s feast.
• I don’t have to plow the driveway today.
• I may be low on cash but we’ve squirrelled away nuts for the winter. Especially food; including plenty of chicken, pork, and venison. Plus enough coffee to keep society safe in my presence for an extended duration. I (probably) stacked (maybe) enough firewood (barely) for the season (if not I do indeed own trees). My stash of beer and liquor isn’t huge but it’s enough. Life isn’t so bad when “worst case scenario” starts with “coffee, eggs, and bacon for breakfast” and ends with “steak and beer”, all the while accompanied by “a cheerful fire”. We truly are a rich society.
• Mrs. Curmudgeon (inexplicably?) loves me. I should have put “a happy marriage” at the top of the list. That’s always the first thing.
• Cthulhu hasn’t risen.
• Among 3 tractors, a snowblower, and an ATV… I’m 80% sure at least one will start and work well enough to clear a path to civilization. (Al Gore will be happy to know that several are decorative yard ornaments that aren’t likely to emit carbon any time soon. I’m “green” like that.)
• Mrs. Curmudgeon made an apple pie.
• My dog is content and is doing a fine job keeping the imperious cat in check.
• Tomorrow there will be post-thanksgiving turkey sandwiches! (Most men agree that this is the real reason we like Thanksgiving.)

I am thankful for so much more. I could go on for hours; but I’m not about to spend all Thanksgiving messing around with a blog. There’s food to eat and homestead chores to ignore! Have a great Thanksgiving and stay the hell away from my “leftover turkey” sandwich tomorrow.

I need this!

Hat tip to Life in the Backwoods.

I’ve tried to stay away from politics but fell off the wagon. Perhaps this post will get it out of my system and I can go back to writing about the important things in life; like talking malevolent trees and raising chickens. Forgive me.

The election was November 4th. Lets see what has happened since:

• November 14th: Dozens Of Obamacare Gruberisms: Rich Weinstein, a man disgruntled about his own experiences with Obamacare, unearthed some less than charitable comments about Obamacare. Jonathan Gruber said these things in public and on video. When? Over a period of years before and after the Obamacare debate. When did Weinstein find the videos? Last December. When did the press report it? Two weeks after the election. For the better part of a year Weinstein did his best to get the information out. The President’s little minions in the media did the usual “I can’t hear you” routine. Once the elections were over the news was posted and everyone got the vapors.  (Link here.)
• November 18th: 42,000 Pages Of Fast And Furious Documents: In 2012 Judicial Watch filed a FOIA request about the Fast and Furious program. Look at your calendar, that was two years ago. In case you’ve forgotten, Fast and Furious was the BATF’s half baked plan to give illegal guns to Mexican criminals so the guns would be used in crime (something criminals tend to do). Then the guns could be traced back to America and they’d have an improved sales pitch against American citizens and their pesky desire to keep and bear arms. That was the next big idea; gun control in America on behalf of our suffering neighbors to the south. (I’m shocked and a little unnerved that a plot that belongs in a comic book was actually implemented. It’s like the BAFT was run by teenage boys who’d just watched a James Bond marathon.) After 2 years of foot dragging the documents were released. When was this release? Just two weeks after the election. (Link here.) Note: While I make light of the BATF’s boneheaded and illegal plot it’s unquestionable they did an evil thing. Their “plan” is implicated in many deaths. These include U.S. Border Patrol agent Brian Terry, possibly Immigration and Customs Enforcement/ Homeland Security Investigations Special Agent Jaime Zapata, and dozens if not hundreds of innocent Mexicans. It is never right to get innocent people killed to score political points
• November 23rd: 30,000 E-mails Relating To Louis Lerner And The Matter Of IRS Targeting Conservatives: Louis Lerner is one of many people accused of specifically targeting conservative groups for IRS red tape. The plot this time was to hamper the tax exempt political activities of those mean nasty Tea Party maniacs and protect the sitting Democratic King. (If this scheme was in a comic book it would be Dilbert.) When did it happen? Right before an election (not this election). The big question is where in the chain of command the order originated. Predictably the Administration suggests it was a lone wolf with no authority, possibly a part time janitor named Fred that nobody likes and has since been fired. The boss, Louis Lerner, exercised her fifth amendment right against self incrimination while insisting that nothing incriminating had happened. No worries, just chase the paper trail and sort it out. This is why offices are awash in memos and paperwork. Congress requested the materials. Duh! The IRS, the sole reason why I have to maintain seven years of tax receipts, decided it didn’t need to hand over the data. The Administration used the “fuck you” principle in responding to Congressional subpoena until that gambit failed. Then they claimed the dog ate their homework they’d  lost all of Louis Lerner’s relevant e-mails. This happened, apparently, in a hard drive crash. (Insert joke here.) Not only did the hard drive crash erase everything but it somehow nuked all the backups, all the server records, and apparently entered the e-mail of everyone who’d received an e-mail from Lerner and mysteriously deleted it  using the heretofore undiscovered “Magic Unicorn E-mail Distribution Model”. Nobody took this seriously. The story held for a while. Three weeks after the election 30,000 e-mails were “suddenly” and “unexpectedly” discovered. As if we needed more reason to distrust the IRS. (Link here.)

That’s just three “revelations”. As far as I’m concerned, all three are an unholy collusion between an executive that likes it’s secrets and a press that likes to have it’s favorite party in power. The job of the press is to ferret out everything, on everyone, all the time. They abandon that at their peril and have nobody else to blame as their fiscal condition deteriorates. This is why nobody takes the mainstream “news” seriously. I jokingly call NPR “America’s Pravda” but NPR did indeed fail at even the most basic level of journalism. We have professional Kool aid garglers, they’re employed by the parties. We don’t need them in the press.

Sooner or later the truth comes out. Based on timing alone I am comfortable assuming the three examples I noted were already known. They could sit on it for a while but not forever.

The good news, if there is any, is that this is proof that bullshit generally comes out in the end. (See what I did there?)

The Soviet Politburo’s model of keeping secrets for generations isn’t working in America. The “press”, which is the property of and helpful eunuch to, a specific half the political spectrum, can’t keep the lid on things indefinitely. Usually they can hold it no more than one election cycle.

I predict (and it’s an easy prediction) that there will be a flurry of “unexpected revelations”, “surprising discoveries”, and “tell all books” a few days after November 8th 2016. Some are probably already written. They’ll hit the airwaves and media shortly after Obama rides into the sunset. This will happen regardless of who wins. The next few years, as balance returns to a perturbed system, things will be interesting.

I got some good reminders in the comments. Therefore I add the following:

• Spirited Away (2001)
• Blade Runner (1982)
• The Music Man (1962)
• Twelve Monkeys (1999)
• The Graduate (1967)

I was talking with Mrs. Curmudgeon about movies that “stick with you”. (Define that however you want.) She and several friends had made lists. (Probably something on Facebook.) Her list was unlike theirs. I suggested my list would make me seem like a whackdoodle. Because all blogs need filler, I decided to post my list. Mrs. Curmudgeon reports there’s a great deal of overlap in our lists. Apparently we’re a pair of whackdoodles.

Here’s my list; in no particular order and arbitrarily whittled down to 15 entrants.

• Brazil (1985)
• Blue Velvet (1986)
• Idiocracy (2006)
  

  President Dwayne Elizondo Mountain Dew Herbert Camacho: So you’re smart, huh? I thought your head would be bigger. Looks like a peanut!

• The Third Man (1949)
• The Great Dictator (1940)
• The Seventh Sign (1988)
• The Wall (1982)
• Casablanca (1942)
• The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (1962)
• Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior (1981) (Author’s note: It’s my list so it’s staying. If you’re too erudite to understand its beauty, make your own damn list.)
  

  The Humungus: There has been too much violence. Too much pain. But I have an honorable compromise. Just walk away. Give me your pump, the oil, the gasoline, and the whole compound, and I’ll spare your lives. Just walk away and we’ll give you a safe passageway in the wastelands. Just walk away and there will be an end to the horror.

• 2001 A Space Odessy (1968) (Author’s note: Remember when NASA was awash with brilliant engineers and America had the balls to go to space? America had the heart of a lion and the brain of an engineer. Now have the heart of an accountant and the brain of a teenager.)
• The Fisher King (1991)
• Fight Club (1999)
• Pulp Fiction (1994)
  

  Jules: Mmmm! Goddamn, Jimmie! This is some serious gourmet shit! Usually, me and Vince would be happy with some freeze-dried Taster’s Choice right, but he springs this serious GOURMET shit on us! What flavor is this?

• Star Wars (1977) (Author’s Note: I don’t care if George Lucas took a steaming dump on it and we’ve all seen it too many times. That’s a problem Lucas will have to sort out between what’s left of his artistic soul and the giant pile of money he made selling it. Lucas, in 1977, steam rolled a world that was listening to disco, drinking Tab, and watching Westerns. He did well!)
  

  Scoff if you want but in 1977 this was the first time a major movie anywhere had anything like this… good and evil magic sword masters dueling in space. (A further note: At least in 1977, Darth was an evil bastard and the goal was to kill him. How refreshing. Lucas spent decades trying to weasel out of that whole good versus evil thing. A plot apparently too simple for Hollywood’s free thinkers.)

Godwin’s Law:

“As an online discussion grows longer, the probability of a comparison involving Nazis or Hitler approaches one”.

This swirling of the debate drain is best avoided but today I’m going there. It’s my blog and I can Godwin if I want to.

Part 1: Jonathan Gruber was less than circumspect:

As you know, there’s this dude named Jonathan Gruber. He made some true but unpalatable comments about Obamacare. His words were captured on video and it’s pissing people off.

Thanks to America’s current level of journalistic excellence, Gruberisms which were recorded, clear, insulting, and obvious, stayed buried until after election day. (There is nothing to see behind the curtain, the press is unbiased!) There are many “Gruberisms” to choose from, but this is the one that seems to really grind folks’ gears:

“the stupidity of the American voter . . . was really, really critical for the thing to pass.”

This turned Gruber from a wonderkind Deomocratic technocrat to a pariah. Actually, Gruber’s comments didn’t make him a pariah at all. The thing that made the cockroaches scramble was public display. They’d all heard it, they just wanted to maintain the illusion they hadn’t.

The immediate spin were serial claims that no Democrat had ever every met Gruber, spoke to him, or stood near him on an elevator. This doesn’t fool anyone and by now the internet has dredged up plenty of videos where Democrats praise Gruber like he’s Jesus. (Note: there’s nothing like a video to make the duplicitous look like royal douchebags. I’m talking to everyone, including whack jobs like Gary Hart, Rob Ford, and Rod Blagojevich.)

Part 2: The Curmudgeon thinks everyone on both sides knew lying was afoot. Thus Gruber’s comments are to be expected:

Nothing said by Gruber surprises me. I expect the things I posit as true to gain additional verification over time. That’s how you sort reality from fantasy. I thought Obamacare was the work of asshats. Listening to Gruber I’m pretty sure it doesn’t come more asshat than that.

Everyone, on both sides of the Obamacare debate, knew the game. If you thought Obamacare was earnestly and intelligently debated on it’s merits you might be shocked. You might also have to grown up on Mars and believe in the tooth fairy. Nobody smarter than a parakeet (on either side) was fooled.

Would readers, from either party, please raise your hand if you thought Obamacare would improve the quality, quantity, and price of health care for all Americans all the time, for all maladies, while also providing it for free to everyone who needs it, lowering spending, and reducing insurance costs? It would take one hell of a magic wand to pull that off.

Suppose Obama told me he’d buy a box of Pop Tarts for all 300,000,000 Americans and this new Pop Tart initiative would somehow reduce Federal spending. I love Pot Tarts but as a sane adult I know that Pop Tarts can’t be made with negative money. If I agree to the Pop Tart initiative it’s because I’m willing to “play along” to get my hands on a subsidized Pop Tart not because I believe in magic.

I think most folks agree; Democrats maintaining an uneasy silence while Republicans are angrily smashing their keyboard on the floor. For the six of you who really bought it, shut the hell up and let the adults talk because you’re clearly a bonehead. Here’s a cookie, get lost.

Republicans knew they were being lied to. You can tell they knew it because they screamed and shouted that they were being lied to. (I find that refreshingly straightforward.) Here’s a couple links (1 and 2) of Representative Joe Wilson rudely interrupting an Obamacare speech by the President. What did Joe Wilson shout? He shouted “You Lie!” Note what Mr. Wilson didn’t shout? He didn’t shout “while your assumptions and analysis do indeed comport with empirical evidence, I have a disagreement about your goals and wish to oppose them in favor of other goals.”

That’s just one colorful instance. I can find a thousand links to a thousand Republicans in a thousand instances complaining about Obamacare lies. For now, I’ll just link to this video of Obama saying “If you like your health care plan you can keep your heath care plan” 36 times.

Republicans hated the bill with the white hot fury of a thousand suns and absolutely refused to vote for it. They’re not surprised by Gruber’s statements. Gruber’s insulting tactics were precisely what Republicans shrieked about.

Democrats, just like Republicans, also knew the “debate” was all lies. They went along because “we want it and don’t give a shit how we get it” doesn’t sell well. They reasoned that  the ends justified the means and promised virtually anything to anyone. I could have wandered around in 2009 and got a solid “yes” to any of the following questions: “Will Obamacare make my car get better MPG?” “Will Obamacare make chicks dig me?” “Will Obamacare stay crunchy in milk?”

They even said silly things like “we have to pass the bill so you can see what is in it“. Imagine if you were on a used car lot pointing at one saying “I have to buy this car to see if it runs.” Sane earthlings don’t speak or think that way. It was the kind of misstep made while speaking untruths off the cuff.

Part 3: Reasonable people can disagree about what course is best and seek mutually acceptable solutions. Obamacare was precisely the opposite:

The Senate held a bitterly opposed and politically divided vote on Christmas Eve. (Trivia alert: How many Senate votes have been held on Christmas Eve in the last 118 years? Answer: one.) Out of 39 Republicans, all 39 voted no on H.R. 3590.

The House voted three months later on H.R. 3590. Out of 178 Republicans, all 178 voted no.

Wise decisions never never never never come with 100% opposition of an entire party. It just doesn’t work that way. “In the last 100 years, no major lasting legislation has passed over 100 percent opposition from the other party. Until Obamacare.”

When you’re doing a sound and honorable thing you don’t play that way. You don’t hold the only Christmas Eve vote in over a century, you don’t steam roll ahead when every single opposition party member votes against you while howling in fury, and you don’t lie to get there. Wise governance means you look at that cliff and stay the hell away from it. That’s how I know both parties were well aware of everything Gruber said. Sure, Gruber opened his yap when a smarter guy would be home counting the $400,000 $6,000,000 he “earned” but nobody who got to vote on the matter was “fooled”.

Now to the grand finale: The Curmudgeon pulls a Godwin.

The Democrats lied and knew it. The Republicans were lied to and knew it. Americans who were opposed said “it’s a lie” and screamed about it. Americans who were in favor knew it was a lie but pretended to believe them because they wanted free stuff.

There’s a word for untruths used to promote a political cause. That word is propaganda. I’m not exaggerating or twisting definitions. Go ahead and look it up.

It struck me that I’d heard the correlation between “stupidity” and “propaganda” long before Gruber stuck his foot in his mouth. Where had I heard it before? Oh yeah, from the writings of a German fellow back in the 1940’s:

“All propaganda has to be popular and has to adapt its spiritual level to perception of the least intelligent of those to whom it intends to direct itself. – Adolf Hitler”

I’m not saying that Gruber said anything we didn’t already know. I’m not saying Obamacare was caused by Nazis. I’m not even saying the Republicans were right and the Democrats were wrong. What I am saying is this:

“Gruber accurately described tactics, the tactics were propaganda, and propaganda is wrong. Propaganda was wrong when Hitler used it. Propaganda is wrong when Obamacare relied on it. It’ll be wrong the next time it’s used in Washington. It is always wrong.”

Having “self Godwined”… I bow out. You may throw rocks at me in the comments.

A.C.

P.S. I think it was a Pyrrhic Victory. Nancy Pelosi got a “victory lap” and a politically connected minority consolidated more power, but at what long term cost to their own goals? Obama started with a solid win and party control of both bodies of Congress. Refusing to play the proper role of an American President he quickly inflicted the two most divisive laws in the last century and now he’s an unpopular lame duck leading a battered and untrusted party. Was their “big fucking deal” worth the 2010 “shellacking”? Was it worth the epic drubbing of 2014? Was it wise to behave badly and stack closets full of skeletons to ooze out in dribs and drabs from now ’till the cows come home? Regardless of how 2016 plays out, nobody will look back on Obamacare’s passing as wise governance. Obamacare is a Pyrrhic Victory.

While feeding my wood stove I discovered something about the recent elections. I ignored virtually all media horseshit during the run up to the 2014 mid term elections. I discovered physical proof I’d made the correct choice. Let’s begin with a summary of pre-election “coverage”:

The dead tree press is dead. They finally self-immolated with Obama’s 2008 run. Tired hacks like the New York Times had been cavorting on the edge of biased irrelevancy for years anyway. Turn out the lights on the way out losers! They still exist but even dogs won’t even shit on the pages. Aside from blindered sycophants inside the Beltway, nobody has taken a newspaper seriously for years.

As for the internet, kool aid drinkers on the evil party side went on a binge of pre-emptive self affirmation while the other side cringed. Would their stupid party once again form a circular shooting squad. How many times can they snatch defeat from the hands of victory? Would they implode in a frenzy of nation building in desert shitholes, foam at the mouth over gay marriage, do something even dumber than that? Would RHINOs manage to smother the TEA Party, the only spark of life the dinosaurs had seen in decades. Lets never forget that the Republicans fondly remember Reagan as a hero despite the fact they desperately tried to cut him off at the knees before he got to the presidency. I skipped it. Just because there’s a train wreck doesn’t mean I have to look.

As for TV, if I want to spend my time in an unresponsive stupor I’ll get drunk while ice fishing. I never saw a single one. The only thing I noticed on the idiot box was that two year old episodes of Walking Dead on Netflix bore a striking resemblance to the new episodes of Trailer Park Boys. (Although the Walking Dead protagonists showed less initiative than the Canadian pot zombies of Trailer Park Boys.)

Radio? Are you kidding? First of all there’s hardly any reception where I live. Except, of course, NPR (America’s Pravda), which secrets itself over the airwaves like the spore of a particularly clueless mycelium. NPR pushes Robert Reich’s unicorn economics so forcefully that I’m afraid it could interact with Terry Gross interviews to create a standing wave of wishful thinking. I might have to deliberately drive my truck into a ditch to escape it.

I’ve taken to listening to MP3 lectures about Medieval history. No, I’m not making that up. (How bad does NPR have to suck before a lecture about Eleanor of Aquitaine’s application of consanguinity rules in 1152 France is riveting by comparison?)

Direct calls? Please! Those ignorant jackoffs called at a rate of four or five a day but who cares? What kind of hamster is going to be fooled by a push poll? It became a game to me. Did you know you can easily make a perfect stranger cry in a matter of seconds? I do. I can. I did. When someone calls with a political agenda you instantly know precisely what pushes their buttons. A couple malicious barbs aimed precisely at what they hold most dear and a few of them got weepy. If that didn’t work I’d just swear like a sailor for thirty seconds and hang up. I’m sure swearing didn’t make anyone cry but maybe it did some good. Because I care about my fellow man, it’s my duty to motivate folks to find a more honorable career… like muling crack. I implore you all to join me inflicting countervailing psychic damage on any nimrod who’s trying to read at you. Bullet points from a screen? Oh it’s on bitch!

You know why youths are dropping out of political activity? Because some of them push polled me.

Direct mailing? Not even a chance in hell that would matter. I received something like four dozen in a three week period. They kept coming and eventually I lost count. They look expensive. Flashy print. Nice cardstock. Real high quality output. Of course I never read a single one. Who would?

Well the election passed. I voted. Little will change.

The stupid party celebrated its miraculous victory over a group that screwed up in an almost awe inspiring example of “getting what you asked for, good and hard”. Talk about setting the bar low. They won against people who’ve been giving America a chainsaw enema for a decade. Whoopidy do. Also, stay tuned for the stupid party’s inevitable overreach and collapse.

Meanwhile the evil party whimpers about “reaching across the aisle”. No! When folks “reach across the aisle” I’d prefer they do it with a sledge hammer. A well run bicameral system encourages good ideas to win in open debate. So have at it. Stand up proud and state your case and whale on the opposition. Let them get in a couple shots to see if you can take it. Man up and hone policy. Discus it, debate it, hash out the details, hell for all I care turn to duels and jousting. But whatever either side does they should be in competition to be the best. Lose that and all you’ve got is a city full of bootlicking power groupies. (An example: party line votes on Christmas Eve. Really? Who wants to put that on their resume? “I got what I wanted by fucking the system. Yay me.”  If you’re the kind of gutless swamp beast that wins by jacking around in the shadows then your idea sucks and you know it.)

Also, gridlock, which is mentioned in tones akin to a cancer diagnosis, is just fine! Gridlock means both sides are so completely pathetic that the best that can be done is to keep them from hurting themselves and the nation.

Today I was starting a fire in the wood stove. Lo and behold I’ve stuffed a couple dozen of those insipid mass mailers in my kindling box. How handy! Back when there was such a thing as “journalism” I had old newspapers to light with a match. Since no living human has bought a printed newspaper for years, political mass mailers take their place. Progress?

I crunched one up and tossed it in. Then another. Wait? Were they identical? Why yes they were. One addressed to me. One addressed to Mrs. Curmudgeon. Two identical glossy mailings sent to the same address. Apparently by someone couldn’t properly manage an address database? Really?

I crunched up another. By gosh it was yet another identical mailing. This time the same thing but sent on a different date. Sure enough I found its twin in the pile; dutifully addressed to Mrs. Curmudgeon.

Four identical mailers sent to the same mailbox. None read.

Curiosity won me over. I read one. How else to discover what had been worthy of this expense?

The talking points started with “Eliminate Wasteful Duplication”. Let that sink in. Roll it around in your mind. Ponder it. Let it seep into the pores of your being.

Someone spent their precious campaign funds to wastefully send my household four unread identical duplicates where they explained their intention to eliminate wasteful duplication. In a way, I’m impressed. It’s like demonstrating you love animals by tearing the head off a kitten. I had a good laugh and then set their shit on fire, because that’s all it’s really good for.

Later, as I was sitting by the fire, warmed by burned campaign flyers, aspen logs, and oak bridge mats… something else occurred to me. I never bothered to read the idiot’s name. It’s gone now. Burned to ash. I’ll never even know if this asshat won or lost.

This has become a new yardstick by which I shall henceforth measure “irrelevancy”.