White comedianing

Posted in Culture of Lickspittle, Shoeshine at 8:14 am by George Smith

Post a few more millionaire white and semi-white comedians routines mocking Donald Trump and the bad Americans, why dontcha?

A couple years of it really helped show everybody.

Now, if I were any one of them, I’d have looked at myself in the mirror the next morning and thrown myself out.

Consider, an entire class of so-called funny men and one funny woman who’ve made their fortune sneering at easy targets and pulling the wings off flies from on high while the building burned down. Hardy-har-har. It’s a laff riot.

The shoeshine boys and one girl performed a right public service.


No takebacks

Posted in Culture of Lickspittle, Decline and Fall, Shoeshine, WhiteManistan at 3:28 pm by George Smith

Before posting the contemptuous crap-dumpling picture meme of white trash who voted Trump on Twitter or Facebook, always remember to type “love trumps hate.”

Heard today on Fox radio news after listening to the Penn State game: A march on Trump Tower in NYC by Michael Moore and “a cast of thousands.” Moore promised the people would not allow Trump, who was “illegitimate,” to take office.

No takebacks. No reversals. HRC lost her alleged “firewall states.” Unless you actually want a constitutional crisis, the US government to fall and for you to be regarded as indistinguishable from those who threatened Barack Obama with the same thing over the last eight years.

No #calexit. And beating people over the head with the Brexit borrowed symbolism of safety pins won’t win a revolution. If you use your head, hard at this point, it’s like asking everyone, every one of the good people, that is, to wear an arm band, so they can know who to cluster with in public against the bad people. Quite the ideal. And when you’re finished with that you’ve found you’ve lost your moorings.

The culture of lickspittle is not fertile ground for cultivation of a revolutionary army.

Eat your plate of bugs and worms. And if you think the song is about you, it’s not.


Song for the times…

Posted in Culture of Lickspittle at 8:09 pm by George Smith

Have a plate of bugs and worms. Problem?

Insurance withdrawn.

We won’t be white comedianing on YouTube video out of this one. Face the music. It’s harsh.

The lamentations

Posted in Culture of Lickspittle at 1:25 pm by George Smith

Cognitive dissonance as a public display, not cost effective. Santa Barbara is one of the wealthiest places in California. You can visit but you can’t afford to live there unless … Been there many times. I even have a Brophy Bros. T-shirt someone else bought for me.

From the Santa Barbara Independent:

Fueled by the unexpected victory of Donald Trump in the presidential election, Santa Barbara High School students walked off campus to rally at the Courthouse Sunken Gardens on Wednesday afternoon to show their support for people who will suffer under the new president’s policies. The rally was not against Trump, students told The Santa Barbara Independent. With so much hate around already, they said, they didn’t want to spread more.
“The rally was not against Trump, students told The Santa Barbara Independent. With so much hate around already, they said, they didn’t want to spread more …”

A “crowd of students began chanting, ‘F— Donald Trump!’ ”

Perhaps much like the people who’ve you seen spouting “Love Trumps Hate” on social media just before they post another of the million crap-dumpling picture memes on the deplorables for the last six months.

Santa Barbara’s daily newspaper, not the altie reprinted here, was one of the few in the country to endorse Trump. It’s owned by a tech industry billionaire Wendy McCaw.

Even though it feels good, you can’t #NotMyPresident Twitter or Facebook your way to revolution. No unbaking the cake.

“Inhale love, exhale hate.” some students said, according the Independent.


Ironwork Blues comes home

Posted in Culture of Lickspittle, Decline and Fall at 3:34 pm by George Smith

The heavy metal dates from 1987, Allentown/Bethlehem, smack in the middle of the time of the collapse of “the steel.” The guitar solo was composed as an extended scream.

Metaphorically, a scream of rage, echoing down the years, always gaining strength, howled into the heart of the establishment and blew it to perdition yesterday.

From the album “Brutality,” when I’d given up on science. I couldn’t do 12 years of postdoc for virtually nothing and an only theoretical opportunity at the end of the tunnel. The game was being rigged for everyone.

“So sing happy songs on the radio and watch as the world crumbles down…”

Not part of Old White Coot.


She phoned it in …

Posted in Culture of Lickspittle, Decline and Fall at 11:07 pm by George Smith

And lost.

Old James Carville was on NBC. He never came out and mentioned her name, but:

“She didn’t have a message … The power of a message overcame the technical operation.”

It’s a very long way from “The War Room.”

And this is what I wrote.

The Old White Coot…

Posted in Culture of Lickspittle at 1:57 pm by George Smith

For civil society and the propositions to end the death penalty, limit life-saving drug prices to no more than what the gov pays, bond measures for schools, money for infrastructure and the symbolic state measure to repeal the corporate evil of Citizens United. And against adding a whopping 2 dollar tax to the sale of cigs. It would fall disproportionately on the underclass and it ought not to be left to the haves to decide what legal vices the have-nots are to enjoy.


Review — Oasis: Supersonic

Posted in Culture of Lickspittle, Rock 'n' Roll at 3:57 pm by George Smith

Watched Oasis: Supersonic this weekend, a documentary slated to run one day in the US before going to DVD and streaming services.

It’s a pretty good record of the band’s volcanic rise on the music of the Definitely Maybe and (What’s the Story) Morning Glory? LPs, climaxing with a quarter of a million at Knebworth.

Which mostly meant nothing to me since I missed the boat on them, starting in 1994.

Supersonic’s also a good argument for strong social welfare programs as young people attempt to put something of their own together. “The dole,” informs the movie, financed the Gallagher brothers, first in a lifestyle of buying records starting out as strugglers and, more important, on the trip to a show as an opener in Glasgow. The Glasgow gig got them signed on the spot to Creation when the ower of the label showed up.

Oasis, Liam and Noel Gallagher, were from “council housing” in Manchester, an incredible cultural triumph of the working class, the young men being part of an English economic system that had given up on creating jobs for the working class and youth.

Noel Gallagher, it turned out, was a fantastic guitar pop songwriter. “Live Forever,” one of his first, is a tune the s band immediately realize is special when they hear it performed acoustically. His brother, Liam, is the perfect singer and frontman for the music. The debut, Definitely Maybe, immediately vaults Oasis into the first rank of British pop acts.

Until (What’s the Story) Morning Glory? it’s a continuous rise until Knebworth in front of a sea of humanity.

It had me listening to the three CD deluxe sets of their first three records, the two the movie follows and Be Here Now which marks a fall from peak popularity for music to constant notoriety for fighting and scandal sheet drug escapades.

Oasis singles’, delivered as the second disc of the Morning Glory package are quite an assembly of hits s ranging from rollicking goodtime rockouts to the wistful and elegiac: “Step Out,” “Down Are Way,” “Wonderwall/The Masterplan” and “Champagne Supernova.”

Like most of my countrymen, I whiffed. Attention deficit disorder mixed with a large dose of condescension. Our loss. In 1996 the appeal in their homeland is summed up by a quote from the New York Times:

“What Oasis has done in Britain, unifying an entire country under the banner of a single pop act, a band could no longer achieve in a country like the US. In Britain the band reigns unchallenged as the most popular act since the Beatles, there is an Oasis CD in roughly one of every three homes there.

In fact, for Supersonic the US is not in the picture, something for which the Oasis reputation is much better off. Their debut in country, at the Whisky in LA is shown as a now humorous disaster where the band and crew are so spun out on methamphetamine they were up for days. Rodney Bingenheimer introduces them and the wheels fall off. Noel Gallagher drily points out his set list, written up by a roadie, is different from everyone else’s. And that was only part of it.

Here in the land of the culturally splintered they were a passing fad, only for the coasts, written off by a gourmand at the New York Times as “low priced … cologne,” a band “more like the Rutles, the Beatles parody act of the 70’s that looked like the Beatles and played songs in the style of the Beatles but didn’t blatantly steal entire melodies and lyrics …” Even Noel Gallagher wears a “Rutles pin” jibes the writer.

After twenty years passage the disses are so over the top as to be hilarious, a comedy script from a lampoon of a rock critic as offbeat snob.

“[When] it all came together, we made people feel something that was indefinable … The love, the joy, the passion and the rage, and the joy that came in from the crowd,” says Noel Gallagher before the end credits. In Britain, Oasis were a reason for being, music to grow up to.


Trivial question

Posted in Phlogiston at 10:19 am by George Smith

Why is all the spam pushing hockey jerseys?


Another one of the Good Boys on how to avoid the Apocalypse

Posted in Culture of Lickspittle, Made in China at 2:56 pm by George Smith

It’s very amusing in a mean way to see how shook up the pundits are at almost every newspaper in the country. And none more so than those at the New York Times. Faced with the somewhat less than remote possibility that HRC will have blown it by Tuesday, they’re using up all their digital wind in blandishments to those they’ve had absolutely no use for in the last decade. For the love of God, people, you cannot vote for Donald J. Trump. The glaring paradox is these lickspittles to wealth have much to do with why millions of people will be voting for DJT.

Yesterday it was grandee David Leonhardt and today it’s the top shelf chanteur for globalism, Tom Friedman. Friedman has spent his entire career writing how everyone below the super business class and tech industry has to suck it up and get used to the fact that cheap laborers in Asia have eaten everyone else’s hash so billionaires could thrive. There’s nothing for us here.

Maybe you can design T-shirts. Become a brand. Innovate! Disrupt! Write an app that is downloaded three million times. Get viral on Twitter with a billion followers. Say you can make medical radioisotopes at home out of lead foil and old radium paint and create new microorganisms that eat bark and shit gasoline and antibiotics in your garage. Start a company to harvest the plastic waste piles in China. Engineer 3D meat manufacturing or a thermostat that connects to the internet and promptly gets infected by malware. Make sure it all scales. Invent the next perpetual motion machine! Rent out your couch to someone with less money while you go back to living with mom and dad or a friend. See if you can lease your tool box. Stand in a ticket line for some rich person.

It was destiny that the lazy American be displaced and the jobs sent overseas. To each according to his talent in the global workplace. Plus, war is good. Someone in the Middle East has to “suck on it.”

Root hog or die!

And like Leonhardt yesterday, the seven figure whitemansplainer to beat all whitemansplainers, is sure the Trump Apocalypse will be bad. And he describes what will happen and what YOU must do.

It will “cause enormous instability and systemic vertigo.” Which is bad.

Friedman has no answers. It’s a short column. He’s so damn slack this time he doesn’t even go into the usual brain loop of asking a wise cabby in Mumbai or Singapore for advice to the wounded American voter.

Here’s what he does offer. A bromide: A plan and some ideas “can open new futures.”

IBM’s Watson wrote a pop song, “Not Easy,” that went to No. 4 in the Apple store for about 10 minutes this month, or something. Demonstrating computers can write shitty songs. And this is going to make songwriters who haven’t been able to make any money with their tunes for over a decade, what, exactly?

And it wouldn’t be Friedman if there wasn’t a stab at a coinage — in this case, STEMpathy workers, as the new in demand thing.

“[Jobs] that blend STEM skills (science, technology, engineering, math) with human empathy.”

Friedman himself has never had any talent in science, technology, engineering and math, global or local.

As for empathy, not seeing that, either.

That’s Tom Friedman getting hit with a cream pie at a lecture. He got off rather lightly. Also note, I wasn’t kidding about him recommending to get on the plastic waste pile bandwagon in China.

And you, too, can have this tune for your device absolutely free (because, y’know, IBM Watson could’ve written it) here.

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