Twenty thirteen went out the way it came in, like a pissant, a steamy little pissant. I realize the analogy is inaccurate, I’m not even sure what a pissant is, but, I assume, some annoyance that’s gross. I’m also fond of referring to a certain type of event or line of thought, legislation, speech, campaign and the like as Happy Horseshit. Again, inaccurate analogy, I don’t even know the standard by which one measures the relative emotional state of horseshit. Unlike pissants though happy horseshit could, potentially, grow flowers or mushrooms and, at any rate, the waste of an herbivore is pleasant if compared to the waste of a carnivore. I think they probably edited that out of the standard biblical funeral speech “… Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust and shit to shit …” I think I would have edited out the ashes for the burial-in-a-box type of tear jerker.
I look forward to a more happy horseshit kind of year than a pissant year. I mean for me and mine. In a general and broad sense the rest of y’all are fucked. You can be me and mine if you want; I’m not all that sure we’re not fucked too. We’re in the decline of an empire; I’m thinking it won’t be graceful. Doesn’t matter where you live, you’ll hear the crash. Not being all conspiracy-paranoid-Gotterdammerung about it, but you did notice in all the hoopla about nuclear disarmament that the hoople heads hung onto their shit, right? The same tail end of manifest destiny motherfuckers what keep the shootout at the OK Corral, The Alamo and little big horn in mind all the fucking time. Yeah, that’d be us with a capital U period capital S period.
I spent the last week or so living in a science fiction cautionary tale, the lesser authors of such tales are just pointing out that we grow soft when we depend on technology. I have a lot of gadgets; the town didn’t have the resources and/or know-how to restore a pretty dang predictable power outage. You would think I’d know whether it was a resource issue or a know-how issue. Yeah, no. The official statements were so much happy horseshit smoke blown up pissant asses I haven’t a clue as to the real answer. Information is power. Disinformation is the use of power.
What I observed was a whole lot of no flurry of activity. It’s possible there was both the resources and the knowhow and the refusal to use either had some more Machiavellian root. That’s not a very comforting thought, though, that might pass; more resources and know how is not likely to occur through attrition.
Good Morning. Happy New Year.
Sorry, it’s a piddling kvetch, a tempest in a teapot. Worse things happen all the time. However, that’s what’s concerning; if we’re not ready for an ice storm … Oh. I guess All the mess from Katrina and subsequent Sandy is still not quite resolved.
Empire. Crumbling. This is all digital so it won’t even be uncovered in a thousand years with my bones. No I told you so to the future. At least reality TV will be wiped from the planet. I think another hundred years of that and some people will be turning back into lower primates, maybe lizards.
Happy New Year.
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