Showing posts with label Wokies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wokies. Show all posts

Friday, January 13, 2023

Baltimore (Or Less)

 The more things change...

Image by Bruce Emmerling from Pixabay 

This is a weekly column consisting of letters to my perspicacious progeny. I write letters to my grandkids — the Stickies — eventual selves to advise them and haunt them after they've become grups and/or I'm deleted.  

Trigger Warning: This column is rated SSC — Sexy Seasoned Citizens — Perusal by kids, callowyutes, or grups may result in a debilitating meltdown.  

Glossary 

Featuring Dana: Hallucination, guest star, and charming literary device  

"When it comes to Baltimore I want to say that it's actually a lot worse than what you see in 'The Wire.'" -Gervonta Davis


Dear Stickies and Gentlereaders,

I've never been to Baltimore, Maryland and I don't even know anyone from Baltimore, Maryland. But like all fans of The Wire, which I've recently rewatched, and anyone paying even minimal attention to the state of the republic, I'm aware that its current reputation isn't the best.

Baltimore's fellow Citizens of the Republic looking for a geographic cure for the problems of the area where they find themselves currently residing aren't dreaming of moving to Charm City. 

{Wait-wait-wait. The Wire? Ain't that a TV show that came out, like, 20-30 years ago?} 

Ahem. The second-best TV show ever made premiered on 7/2/02 on HBO, back when HBO was busy cranking out several of the best TV shows ever made. Nowadays, well... not so much.

{I think you're just stuck in past, old man, but I'll bite, what was the best TV show ever made?}

Deadwood, of course, another HBO show.

{Huh? Never heard of it. What about the Sopranos?}

Fourth best, and yet another HBO show from the same era.

{Seems like you watch way too much TV.}

I'm retired. In my defense, I spend a lot of time reading and writing, but the former doesn't pay at all and the latter has paid very little but I'm hoping to be discovered after my death.

{Fingers crossed. Wait a sec, what exactly is the subject of this column supposed to be?}

It's about the fact that Baltimore — which I'm cleverly using as a placeholder for any number of cities that are riddled with crime and corruption and are failing their children miserably — is a hot mess even though their systemic problems were revealed, in detail, on a TV show that ran 20 years ago. 

{Far be it from me but when I was in school I was taught that the subject of a given essay should be made abundantly clear right from the start.}

Harumph! You're the one who doesn't know what Prestige TV is and sidetracked me with a bunch of inane questions.

{Go harumph yourself, I'm just a charming literary device, you're the writer.}


Anyways... Baltimore is still a city in freefall, one of many devastated by America's dramatic and rapid switch from making stuff to selling stuff made elsewhere. 

The final season of The Wire centers around the damage that can result when high-tech gleefully "disrupts" a given industry, in this case, daily newspapers. The economic tsunami spawned by Silicon Valley continues apace.

{Well yeah, but there's a nationwide employee shortage so...}

True dat, there aren't currently enough people, or enough people willing to work, to fill all the open positions. But politicians spending money we don't have to buy votes, fund folks who don't want to work, and pay for the social justice/green agenda have roused the inflation dragon we were told was long gone. For half a hot second the employee shortages drove up the stagnant wages of the little people that keep the country running but then the inflation dragon ate all the wage gains and is still feasting.

{Don't be such a Debbie Downer, the impending recession will put an end to the transitory inflation.}     

And now the Wokies — a strange alliance of certain highly skilled (at least theoretically) well-paid people and moderate to low-skilled poorly paid individuals — want to disrupt everything that made America the most prosperous nation the world has ever seen in the name of "equity."

That's how you wind up with cities wherein criminals are victims, members of an ever-growing list of "marginalized minorities" are victims, everyone is a victim of white, heterosexual, cis-normal, toxic men and the kids are being taught by "activist" school teachers that aren't teaching critical _______ theory, they're practicing it.    
  

Ronald Reagan is famous for (among a few other things) asking us if we were better off at the end of Jimmy carter's first (and last) term than before. 

Now that a relatively small, hardcore group of Wokies have captured control of most of the media, Hollywood, Big Tech, the Democratic Party, the universities, the UN, several globe-straddling corporations, and have even infested the US military — are you better off?

Or do you feel like you're living in Baltimore?

Poppa loves you,
Have an OK day

{Hold up, what's the third-best TV show ever made?}

Justified, an FX show that came out in 2010.


Scroll down to share this column or access my golden(?) oldies. You too can be a patron of the arts! Click here.    

Feel free to love, hate, or troll me on my Facebook page. I post my latest columns on Saturdays; other things other days. Cranky don't tweet, but in light of recent events, I'm considering it... Go Elon, go!



Friday, July 9, 2021

Live and Let Live

A column of quotable quotes

Image by Syaibatul Hamdi from Pixabay


This is: A weekly column consisting of letters to my perspicacious progeny. I write letters to my grandkids and my great-grandkids — the Stickies — to advise them and haunt them after they've become grups and/or I'm deleted.

Warning: This column is rated SSC — Sexy Seasoned Citizens — A Perusal by kids, callowyutes, or grups may result in a debilitating intersectional triggering. Viewing with a tablet or a monitor is highly recommended for maximum enjoyment.  
Glossary 

Erratically Appearing Hallucinatory Guest Star: Dana — A Gentlereader  

"My conservatism is fairly avant-garde, and it is a kind of rebuke to conformity." -Roger Scruton


Dear (eventual) Grandstickies and Great-Grandstickies (and Gentlereaders),

I'm a collector of quotable quotes. I have a bunch of 'em recorded in a notebook that uses the dead trees format. Nowadays, I save 'em in a computer file. Live and let live is an oft-quoted ancient proverb that I wish all the kids on our modern playground would make a point of observing.

I hope the subtitle of this column will result in Readers Digest sending me a cease and desist letter since they've been running a feature of the same name in their magazine since before I was born.

{Wait-wait-wait. Why would you...}

With a bit of luck, and a well-written press release released on a slow news day, it might turn into my 15 minutes of fame.


Let's begin by pandering to my fellow Citizens of the Republic with a tasteful quote that any right-thinking person will agree with.

"The journey to spiritual awakening is better with french fries." -Bilquis

{Whoquis?}

Bilquis, an ancient goddess as portrayed by a very um, unusual (and now canceled) Starz network show titled American Gods. My fellow fans and I have been left holding the bag and there wasn't even a rushed, half-assed attempt to provide a conclusion of some sort.

{Are there temporarily delicious but now cold McDonald's fries that have morphed into plastic in that bag?}


"The American dream is the pursuit of happiness as each defines it." -I. Dunno

{I. Dunno? Who's that?}

A figment of my lame sense of humor; I can't find the source of the quote. It's from an article I read. I scribbled it down so I'd add it to my collection later but neglected to write down the name of the author.

Once upon a time, I was taught by Sister Mary McGillicuddy that the intention to live and let live was implied by our American experiment even though it has been imperfectly realized, to put it mildly.

"I want the playground to have minimum rules and maximum fun. I want just enough rules to give everyone an equal shot at some swing time and neutralize the bullies." -me

For example, I don't begrudge the Wokies the right to believe whatever they want. "...I will defend to the death, etc." -Voltaire.

However, if I were king, modern-day Piagnoni, followers of multiple modern-day Savonarola's, striving to remain in the good graces of the Intersectional Inquisition so they will have a place card designated, sustainably manufactured seat at the table waiting for them in Heaven Utopia,

And,

Who behave like members of the Westboro Baptist Church who've decided to become transnational Christian Jihadies...

Would have to undergo mandatory cult recovery therapy (yeah, it's a thing) to avoid having their voting privileges canceled. Also, Bonfires of the Vanities would be outlawed, even at mostly peaceful protests.

{Not everyone enjoys your obscure references.}

Merely established history. Follow the links for a free lesson. "...there is nothing new under the sun." -Ecclesiastes 1:9


"Where is all the knowledge we lost with information?" -T.S. Eliot

Mr. Eliot published the poem Choruses From the Rock in 1909. The quote above is from that poem. I don't...

{I had no idea you were a poetry aficionado.}

I'm not. However, I've been threatening to become more than an on-again/off-again dabbler since high school.

I don't know where or when I first encountered the line but I was immediately struck by the way it neatly and simply summed up one of the dilemmas of the Dizzinformation Age although it was written at the beginning of the previous century.

Too much information can easily lead to too little knowledge... and fresh ways and means to con, manipulate, and exploit Joe and Joan Bagadonuts for fun and profit.

I have it on good authority that Eliot was referring to spiritual knowledge, that he was referring specifically to the state of Christianity in his day, but it works in a somewhat different and modern context. I wouldn't describe myself as a Christian, but I wouldn't persecute...

{I see what you did there.}
I wouldn't persecute a Christian baker that takes his faith seriously if he refused to create a cake masterpiece for my — I self-identify as an African-American lesbian (traditional) woman who could pass for Hale Berry's more attractive sister — coming out party. I'd just find another master baker and skip tossing a casual contempt grenade through the door of his bakery.

Live and let live. Sister Mary would be proud.


Addendum: On a related note...
Lookie what I found at a website called Grammarist (.com).

{Lookie?}

"Live and let live is a proverb that is hundreds of years old."

Yada-yada-yada...

"To live and let live means to be tolerant, to live one’s own life in the manner that he [she/they] wishes and to allow the other fellow [person] to live his [her/their] life in the manner that he [she/they] wishes. The philosophy of live and let live does not necessarily embrace or condone the differences of others, but it promotes accepting the differences of others without trying to change them."

Yada-yada-yada...

"The phrase live and let live comes from the Dutch. It is found in The Ancient Law-Merchant, a collection of commercial law compiled by G. De Malynes in 1622. This code of law was written by medieval merchants to govern trade throughout Europe, North Africa and Asia Minor."

Imagine, Pasty Patriarchal money-grubbing capitalists understood what the concept of diversity and inclusion should mean, and made it the law.  

{Yada-yada-yada? And what about equity?}

As to the yada-yada-yada, follow the link. As to equity, entrepreneurs trying to survive in the real world understand that equity (defined as equality of outcome) is an adolescent dream that could easily become/is becoming a nightmare.    


Poppa loves you,
Have an OK day


Scroll down to share this column or access previous ones. If you enjoy my work and the fact I don't run adverts or sell things, please consider buying me a coffee via PayPal or plastic.    

Feel free to comment/like/follow/cancel/troll me on Cranky's Facebook page. I post my newest column there on Saturdays and interesting stuff on other days.



Saturday, August 1, 2020

Neo-Jacobins

Image by Richard Duijnstee from Pixabay 

This is a weekly column consisting of letters to my perspicacious progeny. I write letters to my grandkids and my great-grandkids — the Stickies — to advise them and haunt them after they become grups or I'm deleted.

Warning: This column is rated SSC — Sexy Seasoned Citizens — Perusal by kids, callowyutes, and/or grups may result in a debilitating intersectional triggering

About 

Glossary 

Erratically Appearing Hallucinatory Guest Star: Dana — A Gentlerreader

"Terror is only justice: prompt, severe, and inflexible. It is then an emanation of virtue." -Maximilian Robespierre  


Dear Grandstickies & Great-Grandstickies (& Gentlereaders),

According to Wikipedia: "Today, the political terms Jacobin and Jacobinism are used in a variety of senses."

"...it is sometimes used as a pejorative for radical left-wing revolutionary politics, especially when it exhibits dogmatism and violent repression."

Just so.

[Wait-wait-wait. Let's try something new. State the point of this missive before circumnavigating the universe to get to your destination, the way they recommend in English 101. How's about a thesis statement?] 

Harumph! I can't tell you how disappointed I am that you don't appreciate the charming literary devices I employ to express the wit and wisdom of a garrulous geezer... 

[You don't actually have a point do you? You just start writing and hope that...]

My point is that the American Wokies aren't conservative, middle of the road, or progressive. They're not Republicrats or Depublicans. They are the Neo-Jacobins.

[What happened to liberals?]

Good question.



[Hold up a sec', I can't argue with dogmatic, but as for violent repression...]

If you're canceled and lose your job, perhaps your career, because the Intersectional Inquisition finds you guilty of heresy I'm guessing you're gonna feel violently repressed.

[Well, maybe, but it's not as if they literally... ]

Yeah? Talk to a small businessperson in downtown Wherever, USA. Someone that was working 16 hour days trying to make a buck when their dream was destroyed by a roving band of postmodern Hitler Youths claiming to be antifascists.    

Do you think they're grateful for all the free time they now have?    

The American Revolution, in my semi-humble opinion, turned out reasonably well. The French Revolution, which culminated in the dick-tatership of Napoleon, not so much.

America's homegrown (Neo)Jacobins don't think the American Revolution turned out well at all, that it's past time to burn everything down — metaphorically, literally, or both — and start over.


Some background for the historically/memorically challenged if you please. 

The French kicked their king to the curb shortly after helping us to kick the king of England's minions out of the colonies that were the beta-version of the USA.

The original Jacobins — the Society of the Jacobins, Friends of Freedom and Equality — was a gang political club that rose to power when France's fractious factions were fighting for turf.

Original Jacobins (OJs) were easily identifiable because of their gang colors. They wore blood-red capes and cloaks with guillotines embroidered on the back.

[You made that up.]

Yes, Dana, I did. But I am working on a business plan for a store called Guillotines-R-Us — heads will roll.

You've probably heard of the Reign of Terror and the Jacobin's most famous shot-caller, Robespierre? Eventually, even he was deemed unworthy of heading the club. 

According to Wikipedia, the final score was 16,594 executions and another 10,000 or so dead at the hands of their captors in the prisons they had been locked up in without a trial.


[Wait-wait-wait. The Neo-Jacobins have only decapitated a statue or three. How can you compare them to the OJs? And most Wokies don't embrace, at least officially, the break and burn strategery occasionally employed at the "mostly peaceful protests."]  

True, instead they like to blame the ongoing violence on Daffy Donald sending in forces to keep the mostly peaceful protestors armed with laser pointers, rocks, bottles, hammers, fireworks, Molotov cocktails  and lately, guns  from burning down federal facilities that the local gummits won't or can't protect.

I wrote a note seeking comment on the protests from Uncle Joe, who is still hiding from Covid-19 (and Chris Wallace) in his basement, and attached it to a rock that I tried to toss through a basement window in keeping with the spirit of the times.

[Nuh-uh! You're lying again.]

It bounced off, armored glass I'm guessin'. 

I also asked the IUPPPP&PPVTTOT for a comment (whose offices were recently burned to the ground by a splinter group) but they didn't respond. 


It's getting really hard to concentrate. There's a helicopter in Mr. Cranky's neighborhood that's so loud it sounds like it's hovering directly over my house so I'm going to close with a quote from an editorial written in the Washington Post by the Rev. E.D. Mondaine, president of the Portland, Oregon NAACP.

"Unfortunately, 'spectacle' is now the best way to describe Portland's protests. Vandalizing government buildings and hurling projectiles at law enforcement draw attention  but how do these actions stop police from killing black people? What are Antifa and other leftist agitators achieving for the cause of black equality?"

Well, gotta run, someone's at the door and I'm expecting an Amazon delivery from... 

CRASH!

Poppa loves you,
Have an OK day

Share this column or give me a thumb (up or in my eye) below. If my work pleases you you can buy me some cheap coffee with your debit/credit card.    

Although I'm not crazy about social media (too cranky) please feel free to comment/like/follow/cancel/troll me on my Facebook page.

Cranky don't tweet.

         
 



















       

Saturday, July 25, 2020

Fireflies

Image by ĐÔ NGUYỄN from Pixabay

This is a weekly column consisting of letters to my perspicacious progeny. I write letters to my grandkids and my great-grandkids — the Stickies — to advise them and haunt them after they become grups or I'm deleted.

Warning: This column is rated SSC — Sexy Seasoned Citizens — Perusal by kids, callowyutes, and/or grups may result in a debilitating intersectional triggering

About 

Glossary 

Erratically Appearing Hallucinatory Guest Star: Dana —  A Gentlereader

"The difference between the almost right word and the right word is really a large matter - 'tis the difference between the lightning-bug and the lightning."  
                                                                                              -Mark Twain

Dear Grandstickies & Great-Grandstickies (& Gentlereaders),

What does a columnist and beloved grandfather write about when he/she/they is/are suffering from GNT (grim news fatigue)?

Fireflies.

[Fireflies? Why?]

So I'd have an excuse to write that flocks of flaming fireflies are fitfully flitting through the fields of my fiefdom this fine year.

[You don't have a fiefdom, and flocks...]

But I do have a poetic license and a song in my heart.

[Right.]

Anyways, Dana, here in the mountains of Ohio the fireflies are so numerous this year that at first I thought the IAFF-NAR (International Association of Fireflies, North American Region) was holding their annual convention in the thriving metropolis of Cleveland. 

I'm embarrassed to say that it didn't occur to me, till I did a bit of googlin', that this year's convention was canceled due to the Wuhan flu.

[Racist!]

Are you familiar with the Spanish flu, Dana?

[Are you referring to the 1918 influenza pandemic, actual origin unknown?]

I am indeed. The one that according to the CDC killed at least 50,000,000 H. sapiens while a world war was going on. But we know where our somewhat wimpy by comparison pandemic started, even the current emperor of China admits that.

[I see what you did there...]

Yeah, me too, I got sucked into talking about grim news again. Let's get back to lightning bugs...

[Hold up a sec', a bit of column housekeeping has to be dealt with. We're getting letters from people wanting to know what's up with your latest bizarre literary device, he/she/they.]

Diversity and Inclusion, of course.


When I was taught the fundamentals of reading and writing by Sister Mary McGillicuddy back in the Black&White Ages when the Patriarchy reigned virtually unchallenged, I was told that...

Well, here's a quote from Wikipedia. "The generic he serves as a pronoun whose antecedent is any noun denoting a social category under which both sexes fall: A good student always does his homework."

S'ter Mary, not woke, and thus unaware that this convention had been concocted by the Illuminati's Committee For the Suppression of Women Through Language Control, Subcommittee For English (CFSWTLC-SFE), taught us this was just a way to keep things simple.

Also, that they was reserved for plural uses. Thus: Good students always do their homework.

Once the women's liberation movement of the sixties picked up steam all sorts of people began substituting she for he to protest "male chauvinism," an oft-heard phrase at the time.

"Activism" — of minimal effort and minimal consequence — was just as popular then as it is now.


Now that the Wokies have set the college campuses on fire and the fire is spreading rapidly, pronouns have become a hooge deal because of pronoun perpetrated verbal violence inflicted upon the LGBTQ (+ this, that, and even that other thing) community.

However, many of my fellow geezers and geezerettes find that using they/them instead of he/him just looks and feels... wrong. (I'm tempted to point out that old people can be such a pain in the bum but that would be ageist.)

But with the exception of Satan's minions — white, heterosexual, cisgender, male geezers — we have to include even the Boomers in a healthy, tossed salad of diversity and inclusion to replace the high-fat, melting pot of patriarchy.   

Thus, he is for the traditionalists, she is for the formerly hip and everyone that identifies as a woman, and they is for everyone else. Hence, he/she/they. No one's left out; no one's self-esteem takes a hit.

[Wait a minute... aren't you one of Satan's minions?]

Could we get back to fireflies, please? My word allocation is running dangerously low.


I realize that my dear Stickies and gentlereaders will find this hard to believe but when I went a-googlin' to try and find out why there are so many fireflies in the Ohio mountains this year I was presented with contradictory information.

Bottom line: I found nothing about Ohio specifically but I discovered that nationwide lightning bug populations are in decline — unless they're not.

A couple of quotes from Christopher Heckscher, an epidemiologist at Delaware State University in a USA Today article, Fireflies are dying out because people are destroying their habitat.

"If fireflies are disappearing..." My emphasis.

"...the quantitative data isn't there yet to express population decline in terms of numbers of the insect..."

Since the article was published, Dr. Heckscher has accepted a position at the World Health Organization.

[Fakes news! You made that up!

Yup, I sure did.

Hey, I'm outta here. I'm going for a walk, lots of fireflies out tonight.

Poppa loves you,
Have an OK day

Share this column or give me a thumb (up or in my eye) below. If my work pleases you you can buy me some cheap coffee with your debit/credit card.    

Although I'm not crazy about social media (too cranky) please feel free to comment/like/follow/cancel/troll me on my Facebook page.

Cranky don't tweet.