Worry. Don’t worry. Whatever!

I am often wrong. Hell, I may even be wrong about the previous article, particularly since  reality is constantly trying to prove my new-found cynicism right. I don’t think Trump will win. But… him winning is a not so far-fetched possibility. You know why? Because people, taken in groups of over one thousand individuals (maybe less, but hell, let’s stick to statistics here because those are clearly not misleading, cough, tobacco, cough, alcohol, cough) are fearful, egotistical, illogical idiots who act like sheep. Trump may be talking about building a wall to keep illegal emigrants away, but Trump-wannabe Orban went right ahead and built one and people cheered him. Yup, you read that right! He built one on the Croatian and Serbian border. He thinks he’s the new head-crusader, protecting the EU from the nekulturny migrant hordes. And now, since nobody cares, he wants to build more of it, on the Romanian border. Now those hungarian folks have some pretty big cojones, since he’s not only not losing votes but actually gaining them and the EU leadership is so out of its depth it’s like playing monopoly with a chimp. Life is so much worse than the idyllic utopia we tell our kids it is… Vive la liberté, mon ami, some restrictions and rules may apply.

Post Scriptum:

Here’s my prediction: If Trump fights Clinton, god help them because Trump will win. If he fights Sanders, Sanders will win. Unless the unexpected happens that’s the way it’s going to go, mark my words…

The perfect example of a bad choice

Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. Though…

               May you live in interesting times, says the supposedly ancient chinese curse. Well, we do. And it’s fun as hell, if you’re not an adult. Grown-ups don’t care about crap, they mostly wing it if it doesn’t affect them directly. So no, Trump won’t win – not because we know he’d make a bad president, but because after a certain point in the election process he’s bound to directly offend at least half the voters. Whoever runs against him will win, regardless of competence or skill. Sanders or Clinton? The lesser evil. Not necessarily good, but certainly bad for everybody. Trump is the perfect candidate for getting the other side elected. Continue reading

Feel the burn

Since the beer’s gone, I might as well tell y’all big changes are coming. Every time I read about Trump I feel I have to drink beer. Clinton? Whiskey. Sanders? Wine. Who gives me the munchies for water, you ask? Hell, that special kind of stupid hasn’t been born yet, I think. Never had a craving for water, so … Anyway, changes are coming, just not to me or you. The curse of competence is upon us, bringing with it thousands upon thousands of geniuses and skilled specialists forced to think and work in fields for which they have no skills, knowledge or competence. You know the curse of competence? It’s not widely known outside a few specialised fields, but … it’s when you are a heart-surgeon and all your relatives and friends ask you for free advice on how to treat psoriasis, on account you’ve passed med school. Yeah. Heads up, incoming!

Post scriptum:

Oh, the stupid, it really does burn the eyes!!! How the hell do you… ach, forget it. No real reason for my neurons to commit seppuku by trying to make sense of Trump.

Oh, the horror!!!

I just found out something horrifying… Apparently I’m older than Kim Jong-Un. WTF? I really am an old fart (no offense to the other old farts, I somehow enjoy thinking of myself as one). Go figure. In other words, find this book, buy it and enjoy. You can thank me later.

Midnight battle of the neurons

               I’ve been busy lately, so busy I’ve done nothing worth mentioning and now, like he-who-should-probably-be-named, my common sense is tingling. No, I haven’t seen Deadpool yet. I might, if the stars align just right and the guardian of my finances wife is in a forgiving mood. However, right now I’ve got some things I have to vent out of my brain before they go poof! in the memory underworld where good ideas go to die. I keep trying to find my humor, the one I’ve lost half a year ago, and keep failing at it. Why? Life happens. Continue reading