Usual Rubbish

Dog days.

What the hell. I thought I put that sucker out to the curb. Is that the same one, or another, identical one? Hey… same to you, Lincoln! Jeezus. Why are you so bad tempered?

Man, I’ll tell you – tempers run short here at the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill in the middle of July. All this heat… it’s driving us mad! Those of us who weren’t mad to begin with, that is.  (Strangely, it kind of drives Mitch Macaphee, our mad science advisor, sane.) I’m just trying to clear out the clutter a little bit, and I threw out a beam of wood. I mean literally, I threw it out the window in hopes the trash collectors would pick it up. Next thing I know, it’s back in the freaking hallway. I guess Lincoln (or perhaps anti-Lincoln… I keep mixing them up because the heat makes them switch personalities) has grown attached to that particular fallen roof beam, or was perhaps planning to whittle it into something more attractive. Don’t know for sure, but he appears to have taken the heat. Calm down, Mr. President!

Well, now, I know in these dark, dark days, you probably have your own troubles to consider, so let me get straight to the point here. I will just offer you my Big Green report and go merrily along my way, so that you may return to whatever it was you were doing before you stumbled upon this rambling account. (What was I saying? Ah, yes…) It seems your friends in Big Green are preparing for yet another glorious interstellar tour, taking in the inner (and out the outer) planets, swinging on a star, etc. Just working up the itinerary while I type these words. Yes, I’m a multi-tasker from way back. Would you believe I’m also cleaning my oven? (Check your 60s – 70s vintage t.v. ads for that reference.) That’s to say nothing of what I’m simultaneously doing in other dimensions and the various parallel universes. Boggles the mind, quite simply.

Still, as many of you probably know, the main consideration with these tours is logistics. I don’t know if you’ve followed our previous outings, but typically we run into some kind of technical or manpower-related difficulties at some point in the proceedings, then mayhem ensues. That’s been the pattern. Why, you ask? Well, it could be because we’re just plain unlucky. Or maybe because we’re getting a little old and codger-like. But I think the most convincing explanation is that we rely too much on frail human faculties to carry us from solar system to solar system. We need more automation. And watching all that footage of those BP robots working furiously on that spill in the Gulf, I’m reminded that robots – excluding for a moment Marvin (my personal robot assistant) – are an under-utilized resource in this operation.

Perhaps we need an automated vehicle this time, eh? What do you think, Lincoln? What? Do you even know what that gesture means? Here we go… damned heat!

Political Rants

Boss-capades.

This continuing deadlock on unemployment benefits is really getting up my nose. Looks like some of our representatives – certainly a lot of Republicans – seem to think that people prefer being unemployed and that somehow giving them the minimal aid that unemployment offers is an incentive for remaining that way.

Not surprising. They, after all, most unapologetically represent purist free enterprise extremism, at least as it relates to ordinary people, workers, the poor, etc. (It’s a different story with respect to corporate America, but more on that later.) Capitalism works best for the ownership class when there’s a massive surplus of workers – that’s just basic economics. It depresses wages, it keeps the rabble in line, and it makes certain that the best talent is always available. Anyone who has ever worked through a recession knows what I’m talking about. Raises become rare or non-existent; bonuses dry up. Always the same excuse, too – the bad economy. And yet the boss seems to be doing really well. Buys him/herself a new car, lives the good life, seems well-fed enough. Built into this dynamic is the knowledge that jobs are scarce, and that you can be replaced any day. It’s a businessman’s paradise, I tell you. Bosses’ nirvana.

So, hey – unemployment insurance payments make people less desperate. That will never do. And subsidizing the ludicrously expensive (and aptly named) COBRA health insurance program – which costs an unemployed couple upwards of $800 a month to maintain – would spoil the market for insurers. Hell, that would be like the “public option” – unfair competition for United Health Care or BlueCross. Not to worry, boys. Old John Boehner, John Kyl, and the crew will save your bacon. Again.

I don’t want to let the Democrats off the hook here. If they were so committed to working class and poor families in this country, they’d push a lot harder than they are now. There’s no “fire in the belly” with the vast majority of them, and that’s because in large measure they answer to the same paymasters. Oh, yes. They’ve passed the thing called “Wall Street Reform” – a watered-down package of mild adjustments that won’t deeply upset any investment banker. It’s better than nothing, but only if we insist that it does not stop there.

I know … it’s amazing that, after working to win a contentious election like 2008, we still have to fight for every inch. Best get used to the idea. Elections matter… but only if you’re willing to fight every moment between them.

luv u,

jp

Usual Rubbish

Prep time.


Is Jupiter off? It’s not? That doesn’t sound like such a good idea, Admiral. In light of recent events, you know what I mean? You don’t? Well…. I’ve got some ‘splainin’ to do.

Hey, there. Just starting to plan out our trip to the outer limits. No, not the sixties television show – that was a piece of broadcast entertainment, not a place you can actually go to. I mean the outer limits of the space-time continuum, already – that dark pocket of nothingness where all of the demand for Big Green performances floats in a vacuum like a cork in a bathtub. We must pursue that cork, my friends, for it beckons. The cork beckons! Behold, the cork! Death to Moby Dick! Right, well…. be that as it may. (I’ve been hanging around with anti-Lincoln a bit too much lately – he sometimes doest this extended riff on Captain Ahab and, well, he’s kind of convincing with that beard of his.) We must follow the demand, whatever cliff it may lead us off of.

So, yeah… we’re going over the possibilities for our upcoming interstellar tour. I’m having to cross a few stops off of our list right at the get-go, as it happens. Jupiter is one. If you read this blog with any regularity, you’ll know why. And if you’ve been a bit irregular lately, well… it’s all because of sFshzenKlyrn. (Not your irregularity; our avoidance of planet Jupiter, for pity’s sake. Can’t blame everything on the man from Zenon.) He caused that minor explosion on the Jovian surface some weeks back. Now, when I say minor, I mean by Jupiter standards. Remember – it’s one big-ass mo-fo of a planet. “Minor” on Jupiter is the size of the entire planet Earth back where you come from. So, yeah… in light of that, perhaps even a minor infraction is enough to keep us away. (Like light-years away.)

Assisting us in this tiresome duty is our old friend, Rear Admiral Gonutz (ret.), formerly of the Naval Reserve. Marvin (my personal robot assistant) looked him up at our request when we realize that this was a job several magnitudes too subtle for the mind of the man-sized tuber, who has been filling in as our road manager. (He basically occupied roughly the same volume of space as a road manager might; other than that, not much.) As some of you might remember, Gonutz is not shy. He believes in aggressive touring – musical “shock and awe”, as it were, at least in terms of the itinerary. I personally think he is insisting on Jupiter because he’s fond of the club scene, but that’s just a suspicion. (I’m chock bloody full of suspicions.) Proud man.

Well… we shall see how this will go over, especially with sFshzenKlyrn slinging his trademark telecaster. Hey, Admiral – are we bringing those clear plastic riot shields with us this time?

Weird ass music since 1986