Dicktaters

A diggin' the dictaters/news you might've missed column

Image by Here and now, unfortunately, ends my journey on Pixabay 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 — eventual selves to advise them and haunt them after they've become grups and/or I'm deleted. Reading via monitor/tablet is recommended for maximum enjoyment.  

Warning: This column is rated SSC — Sexy Seasoned Citizens — Perusal by kids, callowyutes, or grups may result in a debilitating intersectional triggering. Intended for H. sapiens that are — in the words of the late, great bon vivant and polymath, Professor Y. Bear — "Smarter [and cooler] than the av-er-age bear." 

About

Glossary 

Erratically Appearing Hallucinatory Guest Star: Dana — A Gentlereader  

"I'm not a dictator. It's just that I have a grumpy face." -Agusto Pinochet

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

Once there was a blogger from Belarus... Dicktaters can grow, and thrive, just about anywhere. The bully that runs Belarus uses MiG-29 fighter jets to swat flies. Now that's a dicktater.

Alexander Lukashenko, a Pooteen protege, is an OG dicktater whose territory, Belarus, the alleged Republic of Belarus, butts up against/was part of the now officially disbanded USSR.        

{And we care about this because?...}

He ordered a MiG-29 to intercept an Irish passenger plane that was flying from Athens to Vilnius, Lithuania. 

{I think I heard something about that...}

The pilot was told there was a bomb on the plane by Belarusian air traffic controllers, and that it might be activated over Vilnius. The pilot was also told to divert to Minsk, in Belarus, and then a MiG-29 was graciously dispatched to escort the plane.  

Fortunately, no bomb was found. 

Belarus said they had no choice, that someone from Hamas, a spinoff of the religion of peace, had emailed them that a bomb was on board. Guilty conscience I guess.  

Alex the Not So Great says the email came from Switzerland, which as everyone knows, is lousy with Hamas social clubs. The Swiss confirmed that somebody sent an email, oddly, 24 minutes after the plane was ordered to land in Belarus.

Not for nothin'...

{Not for nothin'?} 

Not for nothin', in what might turn out to be the coinkydink of the year, it was discovered that Roman Protasevich, whose cover story is that he's a humble but lovable journalist and blogger self-exiled to Lithuania, was on that plane. He was on a list, compiled by Belarus's KGB, of individuals involved in terrorist activities.

The evil blogger, and his Lithuanian college student girlfriend, were tossed in the pokey. 

Mr. Protasevich was so racked with guilt about being a terrorist that he immediately came clean. His video confession was broadcast on television 24 hours later to a relieved/grateful Belarus. 

He's been charged with the horrific crime of organizing protests, from Lithuania, over the alleged election fraud perpetrated by Alex the Not So Great in Belarus's last presidential election in 2020.

Alex the Not So Great is a very popular public servant. He's been repeatedly reelected president and has been in charge of Belarus for 26 years.

Meanwhile, in the Middle Kingdom, Xi Dada, the current emperor of China, continues to try and out Orwell Orwell. 

Ethnic cleansing, enslaving the Uyghurs, swallowing Tibet whole, mass surveillance, eteceterance — well sure — but eventually, a smart dicktater figures out that rewriting history serves multiple purposes.     

 

It not only helps to keep the sheep in their pens, aid in the never-ending process of indoctrination, and influence future generations of sheep, it might even help if a given dicktater finds themselves on trial in the Hague someday for crimes against humanity.

{What are you?...}

I just discovered that Xi Jinping set up something called the Chinese Acadamy of History a couple of years ago (sorry, I'm running behind, keeping up with the Kardashians is exhausting) in order to (according to the Wall Street Journal), "...counter negative views of the ruling Communist Party's Past."

How he resisted calling it the Ministry of Truth I'll never know. 

{Doesn't netiquette call for a link to the WSJ?}

Well, their well-built paywall is very tall, so...

Anyways, it's been officially announced via a social media post, that the vicious story that Mao Anying — son of the world (in)famous Mao Zedong (who murdered more people than Hitler and Stalin put together) — got himself deleted by an airstrike in the Korean war when he fired up a stove to make egg fried rice is pure bonkercockie. 

This was discovered after an in-depth investigation of the events of roughly 70 years ago. Turns out that radio transmissions from Anying's commander's H.Q. inadvertently led to Anying getting blown to bits.

“These rumormongers have tied up Mao Anying with egg fried rice, gravely dwarfing the heroic image of Mao Anying’s brave sacrifice. Their hearts are vicious.”

They also discovered that Teddy Kennedy fired the kill shot from the grassy knoll and was an undercover assassin working as a cook in the kitchen of the Ambassador hotel.   

{I don't get that obscure reference, waaay too much ancient history for my taste.}

Easily googled if you're interested.

{You're aware that Keeping up the Kardashians has been canceled, right?}

I try not to think about it. I have a ways to go before I'm caught up and I'm cautiously optimistic that there will be splendiferous spin-offs and specials. 

Addendum — On a related note:

If you're worried because China's navy is now larger than ours, 

And,

Xi Dada, in a speech commemorating the 100th birthday of the Chinese Communist Party (the CCP, in Tiananmen Square of all places) while wearing his Mao jacket, declared that anyone who messes with China, "...shall be battered and bloodied from colliding with a great wall of steel forged by more than 1.4 billion Chinese people using flesh and blood.,"

Well, at least the US still leads in rapping. 

A 15-minute rap that includes 100 different CCP approved rappers extolling the "Chinese Dream" (yeah, that's a thing) face planted and was disappeared faster than a pro-democracy demonstrator prior to the birthday bash.

     

Poppa loves you,

Have an OK day

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Obituaries

 Junkies and babies, and Wuflu, oh my!

Image by b0red 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.  

About

Glossary 

Erratically Appearing Hallucinatory Guest Star: Dana — A Gentlereader  

"Health nuts are going to feel stupid someday, lying in hospitals dying of nothing." -Red Foxx

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

In theory, the title of this column, Obituaries, should be world-class clickbait. I'll/It'll probably go insanely viral and rack up millions of hits. 

Also, I rendered the word obituaries in bold and used it a second time only 39 (or 40) words in.

{What the h-e-double hockey sticks are you on about now?} 

Well, it depends on whether ya count I'll/It'll as one or two words. 

{Cute. You know what I'm talking about.}

Well, Dana, I have it on good(?) authority that by repeating the title early on and in bold, using a title that "users" might type in that are oblivious to me and my columns existence; repeating it regularly throughout the column (but not too regularly); writing h-e-double hockey sticks instead of hell to indicate that this is a family-friendly column to appeal to my fellow Neoneoconservatives, my "community," — "going viral" is inevitable. 

{What does any of this crap poop have to do with obituaries?}

Nothing. 

I'm merely, one, reminding my fellow H. sapiens that the Earth has been invaded by an army of Algorithmites created in virtual laboratories by the minions of the semi (so far) evil tech oligopoly that's taking over the world. 

Algorithmites, like rust, never sleep. They're always virtually peering over your shoulder to see what you're up to so as to turn you into data for maximum monetization.

And two, pointing out that there's an entire industry devoted to teaching creators of content how to serve said Algorithmites so as to attract "sticky" eyeballs to your work and maybe make a buck — which is how they try to make a buck. You're much more likely to make pennies but it's like the lottery, ya gotta play to win.

Think of it as a public service announcement. I'm all about serving my community.

{On behalf of the community please accept my sincere thanks. Any chance we can talk about obituaries now?}

Why Certainly. 

To a certain segment of my "community," geezers and geezerettes, obituaries are important. For example, I begin my day by consuming a cup of Cafe Bustelo and an amazing amount of information (if I do say so myself) about current events via a highly engineered and continually tweaked system that includes the obituary section of the Hooterville Hornblower. 

My purpose in doing so is twofold. First, to verify that I'm not dead, a clueless ghost sitting in front of a keyboard writing non-existent columns for people who can't see/read them (or me).

Second, to check and see if anyone I know that lives on the periphery of my life have passed away peacefully into eternal rest, and no one told me. Not that I would be likely to go to his/her/their funeral or whatever. I try my best not to do funerals or whatevers. 

As to why... well, that would take a column's worth of words to explain properly. Suffice it to say it has nothing to do with a fear of death. Also, I pre-encourage anyone/everyone not to attend my Celebration of Life if there is one. If there's a funeral, I'll come back and haunt whoever is responsible.

Anyways, reading about people who went to their heavenly home comes with a major downside. Babies, toddlers, and teenagers die too. The announcement that one has is enough to bring tears to the eyes of even cynical, grumpy old cranks and crankettes.

If someone younger than fifty or so dies suddenly from unknown causes under investigation there's a good chance they succumbed to a drug overdose. Those sorts of obituaries are usually short, light on details, and sadly, appear regularly nowadays.  

According to the obituaries, most people don't die, they pass away, which I know from personal experience is not necessarily true, and the exact cause is rarely mentioned. 

Many people, particularly people over the age of roughly 70 or so, pass away peacefully while surrounded by their loving family. Well, I hope that's true. Regardless, I suspect that often the wording (like funerals) is more about the living than the dead.

I'm not entirely sure it's appropriate but I want to know the cause of death. Like when someone falls asleep in the Lord after a quietly courageous battle with Stage 4 lung cancer. Since the Wuflu plague, although rapidly/hopefully is fading but is still with us, this bit of knowledge seems particularly pertinent. 

For example, I'd like mine to be something like: 

It is with a mixture of sadness and rejoicing that our much-loved patriarch has set off on his final road trip to the Great Gig In the Sky. He was instantly vaporized, while traveling as a space tourist, when on the return leg of one of Elon Musk's To the Moon and Back Sightseeing Space Junkets the spaceship mysteriously exploded. 

Addendum: The Great Gig In The Sky

And I am not frightened of dying

Any time will do, I don't mind

Why should I be frightened of dying?

There's no reason for it, you've gotta go sometime

If you can hear this whispering you are dying -Rick Wright

 

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.

    

Hooterville, Ohio

 A Mr. Cranky's neighborhood episode featuring Congressperson Timmy 

I don't know who owns the rights to this image but if they should send me a cease and desist order I'll happily take it down after trying to use the letter to go viral by claiming I'm a victim of ageism, elder abuse, and intersectional abuses to be named later.

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.  

About

Glossary 

Erratically Appearing Hallucinatory Guest Star: Dana — A Gentlereader  

"And that's Uncle Joe, he's movin' kind of slow at the junction..."

- Fron the song Petticoat Junction written by Paul Henning (creator of Petticoat Junction/Hooterville) and Curt Massey (musician/songwriter).  

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

Hooterville, Ohio, a "city" in Northeast Ohio, sits in the middle of a cluster of "cities" and townships that includes two (former) actual rustbelt cities that have lost so much population our congressman congressperson Timmy, may soon be out of his second real job.

He worked for his predecessor, the (almost) famous Congressman Jimbo, for a few years till Jimbo got locked up and Tim's current job became available. Jimbo ran against him from prison, twice, but lost both times. 

If you lived here the fact that Jimbo lost, at least the first time, is the surprising part. The fact that he ran, twice, didn't surprise anyone. 

Timmy has announced that he's running for the Senate next year to replace Republicrat Rob Portman, a professional pol of 32 years who has been a (mostly) reliably conservative and blessedly boring senator for 11 years.   

Congressperson Timmy is a Depublican but markets himself as an old school Depublican, a Democrat, as there are many Democrats still living in the Hooterville metropolitan area. He talks, a lot, about how the current version of the party should become the party of the working class again.

This area is top-heavy with working-class people. Timmy's never earned his bread by workin' the line, operating a machine, stockin' shelves, etc, but he was a high school football star which gives ya street cred in these parts. 

He was recruited to play ball at Youngstown State but blew out a knee and wound up at Bowling Green State, majoring in political science. He went to work for Jimbo and picked up a law degree from Franklin Pierce Law Center but didn't see any point in taking the bar exam. 

Next, he became an Ohio State Senator but only served for two years before Jimbo's unfortunate incarceration and has been Congressman Timmy ever since.   

He's since published a book about practicing mindfulness and another about healthy eating. The one about mindfulness (2012) brought him a bit of national attention. He republished it in 2018 with a different title. 

The first line of the same forward in both books is, "This book is a remarkable and unusual gift to the world." It's written by Jon Kabat-Zinn, a former professor who nowadays sells MP3s and CDs of guided meditations.   

Congressperson Timmy's been trying to call attention to himself on the national stage for years by doing stuff like pretending to run for Speaker of the House (Nattering Nancy crushed him). He ran for president for about a minute in 2020 before returning his attention to getting re-elected to Congress. 

He turns up occasionally on national lamestream media shows when some interviewer wants to present the perspective of the working person. Local, somewhat miffed talk show hosts can't get him to answer the phone anymore but perhaps now that he's running for the Senate there will be a reconciliation.   

It's suddenly summer here in Hooterville. I never get tired of the joke, what are the four seasons of Ohio? Answer: almost winter, winter, still winter, construction.   

{You may not be tired of it but...}

My oldest granddaughter, whom I used to call Abbagirl but now address as Asparagoose, just limped through an awful senior year of high school. Before I forget, if you're keeping track, her sister is no longer Bug, she's Josceleena or Josceleenie.

My oldest grandson is still, Dude. The youngest is still Duuude. 

Asparagoose went to band camp for three years and enjoyed the good while stoically dealing with the bad and the ugly, all the while looking forward to the summer before senior year. Seniors at band camp see themselves as minor royalty and behave accordingly. 

Band camp 2020 was canceled, a victim of the Wuflu Plague.

Well, at least there was senior year to look forward to. Seniors in Hooterville High see themselves as minor royalty.

[Insert sound of a stylus skidding across a vinyl record here.] 

Classes wearing masks, canceled classes, virtual classes, masked classes.

Shortened football season and canceled band concerts.

No money from Burger King till the lockdown began to lift a bit.

This, that, and even that closed till further notice.

That's now gone, and the Hooverville region's herd of empty storefronts has expanded again.    

BIG BUT.

There's a fledgling electric truck company trying to get off the ground in what used to be a General Motors plant, GMs gonna build car batteries here, and we've got new natural gas-fueled power plants.  

No fields covered with glittering, Chinese-made solar panels so far but local boosters, including Congressperson Timmy, are promoting a Voltage Valley meme since the Steel Valley meme has been deleted. 

Asparagoose got her first tattoo when she turned 18. Small, but emotionally significant. She was accepted at YSU but has decided to keep her powder dry till she can decide on a major that will pay off in spite of the absurdly expensive, politically correct classes. 

I remember when I was 18...

{And  we're  outa  here.}

Short Addendum this week since we're already running long: 

Who decides who's too important to get busted, for lying under oath, to the United States Congress? 

{Who are you claiming...} 

Here's a hint, Dana... Dr. Anthony Steven Fauci, the highest-paid employee ($400,000+/year) of the Citizens of the Republic. 

Poppa loves you,

Have an OK day

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

Cranky don't tweet.