Recently I thought I’d try writing things—jokes, mainly-as they came to me. I liked it, but it just doesn’t fit with my mindset of what I (think I) want this site to be. I am forever a work in progress. There was a time where I was convinced that being forever a work in progress was a bad thing. I think there were people around me that were frustrated that I couldn’t be set in one thing, but that’s just not me. I’m going to be 54 next week, and my GAF was all but destroyed years ago.
It’s not me, it’s you.
Apparently my former employer is still ‘restructuring’. I saw that some remarkable human beings I had the pleasure of working with were told that his services are no longer required. I’m sure it’s nothing more than cutting the higher paid people in order to have someone else do the same job (or twice the work!) for less money. Still, the thing that’s really bothering me about this round is that it involved call center associates. They said over and over when I dodged the first two rounds of layoffs was that they weren’t going to touch the call center floor. I guess that’s been forgotten. It was only a matter of time. The company makes cameras and printers, neither of which are widely used by consumers anymore, and they were way behind the curve on things the rest of the camera world had embraced years earlier.
I know it’s not supposed to be personal, but when you invest a great amount of yourself and your time it’s hard to not take it personally. In my case, I’ve always felt it WAS personal. It really destroyed me for a long time to the point that I couldn’t do anything creative at all. I hope my friend can bounce back better than I did. I also hope he can make an honest go with his photography business. I’d like to direct you to his photography website, but it appears to be down. So I’ll direct you to his Facebook Page. Please have a look and if he brings back his shop site, please consider buying something from him, and by all means spread the word.
We’d like you to decide, even though you’ve already decided.
I honestly don’t know how this isn’t the simplest of decisions. I don’t care who the Democratic nominee is, I’m voting for that person because I am not interested in opening the Seventh Seal of the Apocalypse. Is Biden older than dirt? Of course he is. Do I care? Maybe, but that’s what the 25th Amendment is for. I’m waiting for the first Republican to say a damn thing about the 25th Amendment, but if I was a betting man, I’d bet they will stay quiet about handing the Presidency to Kamala. Funny thing, that. I bet they do return to the birtherism real quick, tho.
That said, Biden hasn’t helped his cause. The stuttering is baked in, as far as I’m concerned. What isn’t baked in is the switching up of names, the rambling and gibberish with no real direction, and the long—LONG—pauses. Yes, Trump does it too. Breaking News: They’re both old as fuck. However, that’s the ballot. Unless there’s a real, successful draft at the DNC in Chicago (the irony!), Biden is the nominee. No draft movement has ever been successful.
He’s Just This Guy, You Know?
Trump is the immediate existential danger, but if I’m being honest it’s not Trump himself I’m worried about. What worries me is the Zaphod effect.
In the classic-oh-my-god-this-is-required-reading novel The Hitchikers’ Guide to the Galaxy, the President of the Galaxy is Zaphod Beeblebrox. He brings nothing to the table. He’s a party animal and an idiot. But his antics distract the people so they’re not paying attention to the folks really doing the work. That’s Trump.
Trump is going to Trump. We know this. They know this as well, and they’re counting on it.
Yeah, but when is the Two Minutes of Hate?
The RNC convention started today, and maybe I’m just old. I remember conventions being run differently. Not covered differently (although I can make that argument as well), but it seems more like a marriage of informercial and cult worship than it used to be. I’m watching C-SPAN for neutral coverage (because I am that nerd), and some minor amusements.
- *First, I see Marsha Blackburn, the protokaren from Tennessee, found the time to brush that rats nest she calls a hairdo.
- Second, it’s funny to hear the band playing Where The Streets Have No Name, but dare not speak a word of it.
- They’re doing the nomination election at 3pm on the first day. Why the first day, and why not in Primetime? Also, it has been my experience that at some point, someone makes a motion to wrap up the nomination by acclamation. Not so in this case. Ego much?
- Junior’s a twat. Also, Junior’s a twat.
- Youngkin is slightly less of a twat than Junior, but the twatfulness is still strong.
- They are really calling The Orange Mush ‘the bravest man in America.’
- All the folks who read their speeches from a phone or a sheet of paper and STILL mangled their way through their state delegate votes totals need to have a fucking seat when it comes to Biden’s stutter or prompter use.
- You can always count on old white dudes (including me) to have the worst rhythm in the known universe. Awkward knows no party.
- In what must be the first documented Karen moment of the convention, Senior Karen was upset that Middle-aged Chad wanted her to stop waving her Trump placard long enough for him to get a picture of…something. Probably the house band, Slightly Spicy Mayo (I don’t know, why not?), to document their playing ‘I Want You To Want Me’ for 15 minutes.
It’s only 4pm. This should be fun…