Local Characters

Tonight, I began work at midnight. I had to go over a procedure with the co-worker I was relieving, which took up a few minutes, then discussed whether the problem he was having was unique to the site we were currently working (it was, thankfully, so it's probably a programming oversight). He left, and I got my ducks in a row for the rest of the night. Realizing that I needed to get something from my car, I exited out the front door, and saw a guy outside the building. It being after midnight, and he being on site, he immediately placed himself in an "adversarial" role... time to play the role of the Big Bad Bald Bastard- cue stentorian bellow:


"WE'RE CLOSED AT THIS HOUR..."

"I just wanted to check the ashtrays."

The guy was well-spoken, a white guy in his mid thirties, reasonably well-dressed. I'd actually seen him before, sifting through the ashtrays for cigarette butts, but not at this hour.

"In the future, you might not want to do it at this hour... it's not a good time to be on the property."

"I can't do this in public."

"Carry on, then.... We're closed this time of year, you'll probably have slim pickings."

He wasn't too proud to sift through two public ashtrays to scavange other people's dog-ends, but he had enough pride to not do it when there were people milling about. I seemed to recall hearing that the guy was the son of a local "Man of Substance", but couldn't remember who had told me that. He did have a nicer phone than mine, which he used to illuminate the contents of the ashtrays.

As I watched him leave the property, I pondered what sort of mental illness could have a not-indigent man sifting through foul saliva-coated trash at midnight on a cold winter's night. As a high-schooler, I worked in the local deli, and there was a local guy who was convinced he was a priest- he'd walk up the street blessing telephone poles, so I was used to having harmlessly eccentric locals around.* Shortly after he left, my co-worker returned to retrieve the coat he'd left hanging in our office. He's a local guy, so I asked him if he knew the "cigarette butt" guy. He didn't know him. Next time I see the dude, I'll make it a point to introduce myself. I can sympathize with the guy, I'm a butt man myself.

It's a good thing to know the local characters... especially the one's who make impromptu calls at odd hours.


*One day, my boss' grandfather (everybody called him The Boss), a paisan's paisan from the old country, was walking down the street, and the good "father" blessed him with a grand, sweeping sign of the cross. When The Boss came through the door of the deli, his daughter-in-law yelled at him, "Why'd you let him do that? He's unauthorized." The Boss simply shrugged and said, "If it make-a him happy, 'sokay."

We All Know How This Usually Works Out

M. Bouffant, L.A.'s favorite curmudgeon, put up a post which makes me wonder, "Poe's Law violation or Godwin's Law violation?" To sum up M.B.'s post, former hippy, alt-medicine scammer, and naked adult swim partner of Allen Ginsberg turned ranting right-wing loon Michael Savage, has called for a right-wing nationalist party unified under a charismatic leader. We all know how well that works out...

The funny thing about "Savage's" rant is that he pretends that the Tea Party could be the nucleus of this new "Nationalist" party:


“We need a nationalist party in the United States of America”... "You have the rudiments of a new party in this country called a Tea Party. They need to restructure their party. They need a charismatic leader, which they don’t have. When you say Tea Party no one knows who the leader is because there is no leader. No man has stepped forward who can lead that party. The Tea Party is the rudiment of the new nationalist party. Somebody has to bring them all together, unite them like King David did the ancient tribes of Israel. And there is no King David out there. Who’s the King David? Tell me who is going to do it?"


Someone should inform him that the Tea Party was, at best an attempt to rebrand the GOP in order to remove the stench of the Bush era (an attempt that seems to have gone horribly awry) and, at worst, a bald-faced grift. Oh, who am I kidding? Savage has been grifting for years... coffee enemas, anyone? Savage has his own grift going on, so he doesn't have to play the Max Bialystock role in this new "Nationalist Party" scam. He says he's not willing to play this role due to his age, but I'd wager that he's too canny a seller of the Kool-aid to end up in the bunker when things go to hell.

Three Kings Day

January 6 marks the Feast of the Epiphany, which commemorates the visitation of the Magi in Christian tradition... the day is also known as "Three Kings Day". As Aunt Snow so beautifully recounted, it's traditional to eat a special "King Cake" on this day, and the individual who finds the token (often a bean, a coin, or a plastic baby Jesus, has to buy next year's cake- I imagine choking on a plastic baby Jesus would be an ironic way to go...).

Anyway, it is believed that the Magi were Persian wise men, though it seems that wise men are pretty scarce in that region of the world these days. Anyway, since I'm not a devout person, I think I prefer this version of the tale of the visitiation of the Magi:

Gaulois Galoot Goes Galt

Finally, an overprivileged tax-avoiding whiner has the courage to "go Galt"- Ubuesque actor Gerard Depardieu has finally gotten sick of all the merdre he's put up with at the hands of the money-grabbing French government and moved to the capitalists' paradise (you read that right) of Russia to enjoy their 13% flat income tax. Of course, Tea Party types love their flat taxes, largely because flat taxes are regressive.

Perhaps the Tea Partiers can be convinced to move en masse to Russia, where they won't be taxed excessively. The fact that Russia is an oligarchy led by corrupt kleptocrats backed by armed thugs should be no problem for the Tea Party supporters. Now, besides playing up the flat tax angle, how do we convince the 'baggers to move to Russia? Maybe we can convince George Soros to fund the construction of a Potemkin Branson in Siberia.

Alternate post title: Depardieu.s.s.r.

Cross posted at Rumproast.

Didn't Realize It Was a Political Song 'Til Now

I'm heading off to a departmental meeting this afternoon, so I figured I'd fall back on that old "post a video" gambit... A few days ago, Ned put up a post titled "Camouflage", which reminded me of Gang of Four, a band I like enormously. Gang of Four's song "I Love a Man in Uniform" was a departure from their earlier work sonically (it's a lusher, fuller sound, in contrast to the edgy, jittery minimalist music of their earlier works), and I used to think that it really didn't have a political bent. Recently, with the focus given on gun ownership, and the generally poor state of the economy, the political nature of the song finally dawned on me- the song is basically the lament of an underemployed, disaffected man who convinces himself that his dysfunctional relationship is healthy, and props up his flagging self-esteem by collecting weapons and engaging in "military" cosplay:


Time with my girl, I spent it well
I had to be strong for my woman
She says, "You must be joking, oh man You must be joking,"
She needed to be protected.
The good life was so elusive,
Handouts, they got me down.
I had to regain my self-respect
So, I got into camouflage
The girls, they love to see you shoot.

I love a man in a uniform.
I love a man in a uniform.
I love a man in a uniform.
I love a man in a uniform
To have ambition was my ambition.
Time with my girl,
I spent it well.
"You must be joking, oh man, you must be joking."


If that doesn't describe the Tea Party and "Milita" communities to a "T", I don't know what does. Enough of yapping, crank this one and shake your rump for great justice:

Cowardly, Callous, and Cruel

Never mind the Fiscal Cliff kerfuffle- what really chaps my ass is Republican Speaker of the House John Boehner's decision to abandon a vote on a Superstorm Sandy aid package.

I have made no bones about having an enormous amount of contempt for NJ Governor Chris Christie, and I have absolutely no use for odious GOP Representative for New York's Long Island Peter King. To summarize my assesment of these jerks- Christie is a loudmouth faux tough guy who doesn't give a damn for Johnny and Janie Paycheck, and King is a rabble-rousing anti-Muslim bigot who ignores the needs of the 9/11 first responders he invokes in his prejudiced tirades. Today, I view these clowns as the proverbial stopped clock- both Republicans have had choice words about House Speaker John Boehner.

Peter King first lambasted Boehner on the floor of the House of Representatives. King was even more pointed in his criticism of Boehner afterwards, going so far as to urge New York and New Jersey Republicans to stop donating money to the Republican Campaign Committee:





Christ Christie also came down on the Boehner like a two ton heavy thing:





Of course, Christie mendaciously throws in a criticism of New Jersy Senate Democrats, in order to play the "both sides do it" card.

Not content to passively ignore the impassioned pleas of New York and New Jersey representatives to bring this vote to the floor, Boehner apparently lashed out at NJ Republican Frank LoBiondo. The latest development in the case is that Boehner, cowed by the vehemence of his fellow Republicans has promised to bring Sandy aid up for a vote after the new Congress is sworn in. Too callous to bring up the vote on Tuesday, too cowardly to stand by his prior position.

John Boehner's a godawful fool-
He's cowardly, callous and cruel.

New Year's

As has been typical since I started blogging, I have been working on New Year's Eve or Day- I decided to change things up by working the graveyard shift instead of the evening shift. As I have averred every year, I have come to think of New Year's Eve as amateurs' night, having seen a lot of dumb stuff happen (I've done some dumb stuff, but typically of the "get caught by girl one sucking girl two's face while girl one went off to the bathroom" variety- hey, I was too drunk to tell her "she reminded me of you" and not Penthouse lucky enough to arrange a threesome- I've never done anything "crash the car in a drunken stupor" or "start a donnybrook in the street" stupid). Anyway, it's been a quiet night, safely cocooned at work on this night of sobriety checkpoints and drunk drivers. While not watching bizarre animation by the guy who animated the video for a great drinking song, I've been making sure that nobody hopped the fence to piss on the property (I made sure I was extra vigilant after the 4AM last call). Fun, eh? At least it's a double-time day. Anyway, I figured I'd cease my navel gazing and post an appropriate video. Here's New Year's by New York's Asobi Seksu. The band's combination of crunchy pop and sweet vocals reminds me of my beloved Shop Assistants






Here's another take, but I think the song plays better with a harder sound- this version is pretty, but it needs some chunkiness to avoid being twee in my estimation:





CRUNCHY DRUMS PLZ!!!





Now, that's the way to do it... by playing a kickass drum solo, Yuki Chikudate is one pretty lead singer who won't be upstaged by the drummer.

Wow, three video embeds of the same song, with no covers... I think that's a record, but can't be arsed poring over every post to ascertain this fact. The funny thing is that New Year's is not even my favorite Asobi Seksu song.

Happy New Year's Day, everybody!