Hello, Friend,
Welcome to WTF Wednesday, whereupon we wrangle the wild world in which we find ourselves while we wonder if we’ll wend our way back to our regularly scheduled weirdness.
We’re going to attempt to cut through the considerable noise in search of clarity and perspective. I would argue that in this moment, clarity and perspective may be lofty aspirations. A little less haze would be a welcome change, though, am I right?
Let me begin by expressing the WTF part of this equation as I scratch my head in sheer disbelief at the ridiculousness of the shenanigans that took place in the oval office yesterday afternoon. First and foremost, because we focus on what matters most around these parts, young X-ling wiped a big ol’ juicy booger on the resolute desk. He was digging for gold, much like his Papa and his minions in our treasury, and after enjoying the spoils of his efforts he found himself with an excess of wealth.
Is there any metaphor more apt than the smearing of a crusty booger next to the crusty King, a well known germaphobe, in that particular room on that particular desk at that particular moment?
Methinks not.
Is methinks pretentious? Methinks it might be. Meregrets if it offends.
The Robber Barons and their offspring are thumbing their noses at all of us. I do think, right now, the main character of the worst reality show…ever…is the wannabe Emperor. He is, IMHO, an existential threat to the future of everyone and everything. I was so happy to leave Twitter as it transitioned into X, innocently believing I’d never have to think about that delusional doofus again.
Ah, those halcyon days…
Kudos to Nicole Wallace for summing things up succinctly with this little gem, “Irony died while he was talking.”
This brings me to some things I found on the internets that you might find interesting. Perhaps they will shed a little light on the true motivation of the dweeb in a stoopid hat stealing the mic (and the attention) from the increasingly orange man who lives for the applause, applause, applause.
Stevie Three Shirts is not happy with the unfolding of current events, and it might behoove you to hear what he’s got to say about Melon Husk and the Tech Bros. (Scroll down the article to read the quote.) Guess MAGA is out, even if the hat says differently. You may note that the writer of the linked post, Denny Carter, does an excellent job of explaining acclerationism, which I touched on yesterday.
Here’s more dystopian delight from The Institute of Unreality on the Tech Bros., an even deeper dive into the Dark Enlightenment abyss if you can stomach it. (Grab some Tums and prayer beads and best of luck to you.)
Will Bunch from the Philadelphia Inquirer (one of the few newspapers that isn’t kissing the ring) shared a very thorough and concise breakdown of the plans of the aforementioned Broligarchs. It’s not just me who’s out here banging the pots and pans.
Bernie Sanders gave a barn burner of a speech earlier this month about this topic that is well worth a watch. What a mensch.
Speaking of our Tech Bro Overlords in training, are you still on social media? Hellooo! Let it go, let it go, no, really, let it go!
If you’re thinking of leaving the Techbroniverse and you’re hoping to free yourself from their relentless data mining, here’s some advice on how to keep Meta from tracking your cell phone activity, even if you aren’t using their apps. I’m down to three apps, one of which I pay for and have used every day for over three years. Unfortunately, that third app is sending my data to Meta. Ugh. Au revoir, DuoLingo. I deleted Poshmark earlier this week after finding that they, too, were relaying my data to Meta.
I’m really starting to feel like I live in a pineapple under the sea.
If you’re not hurling into a bucket, or when you come up for air, ProPublica has obtained an array of creepy AF Project 2025 propaganda and training videos. I could not even even. Perhaps you can.
And now, it’s time for a palette cleanser. (Yes, I mean palette this time.) Art will save the world. This is your gentle reminder to turn the compooter off and go make some art or go see some art or go touch some grass or in my case, go touch some snow.
Speaking of touching snow, I must away as the birbs need their birb snacks and I’m the resident birb snack lady. Except for those bossy grackles*, they’re not allowed to steal the snacks.
(Speaking of birb snacks, those birbs are voracious little buggers. Would you care to help the birb snack lady buy some birb seed? Please, and thank you very much.)
* (There are plenty of places for grackles to snackle in the area, just sos ya knowse. I’m not a heartless birb lady.)
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The X-ling also apparently told orange man to be quiet. Or shut up. Brian Tyler Cohen shared the little clip.
It's getting so I don't know how to respond to some of your posts. I'm just going to say thank you and close the door quietly as I leave.