Are you a self centered, passive aggressive, jealous caricature? Inc Magazine is here to help. And I’m here to poke fun at taking caricatures seriously.
(Note: It’s not that bad of an article but there’s plenty of commentary to be made based on how I’ve seen these concepts play out in the real world.)
1) Douchy Guitar Jam
2) Introduction
3) The List
3) The Commentary
4) Buh Bye
For during my seven hour thirteen minute breakless shift…I paused to shit.
O Bezos most merciful fullfiller lead me back to the light. May I master my need to shit, may I purge all from my body and mind that does not translate into boxes on brown trucks.
May I not fear the 2 am start time for it is our sacred season whose name is Peak.
Bezos forgive me. Bezos keep me. For thee in thy wisom hath gutted the job market with tax exemptions and monopoly. There is to none but thee and thy servant UPS that I may turn.
Blessings upon you, merciful one.
You of the line of Re. Of Seti the great Begoten of Nuit unto whom stand grand pylons.
The blood and sweat of many hath made manifest the grandeur of your empire.
Grant me the strength to raise pillars of Chinese assembled goods that shall reach to the ends of the earth.
Your profits will stretch form the rising to the setting of the sun.
O Bezos great one my father.
All donations will be reinvested into the coffers of our Lord.
P.S.
Hail Bezos!
Support the Journal
Make a donation via PayPal to help zazz things up.
$1.00
Not Just Zazz…but Pizzazz
Too high class for regular Zazz?
Help Pizzaz up TFJ!
The hill held many things. First there was the soil, then there was the grass, and the grass and the soil was broken in places by a profusion of roots. Roots that led to trees. Beneath one such tree, an oak to be precise, sat a man not far removed from twenty.
His name was Leonard and he sighed.
“Eh.”
Behind him was the wood, ahead and all around were myriad hills, truncated only at great distance by rising mountains.
The isolation was intoxicating.
He realized that he may well be the only one to hear the wind pass through the valley save for the rabbits.
No sooner had he thought of the randy critters than it was that one appeared.
“Oy you there.”
‘Huh, he talks…’
“Don’t assume my gender lad.”
‘Fancy that he reads minds as well.’
“You’re being very rude.”
‘And you’re hare-brained.’
“Am not. I am in fact the duchess I am.”
‘Duchess of what?’
“Duchess of York.”
‘A cockney Duchess?’
“That is how I identify.”
‘Uhuh so what can I do for you your highness.’
“Well, not to be too cheeky bout it but you’re squattin in me toilet.”
‘Gross. Didn’t know rabbits had toilets.’
“Told you I’m the Duchess.”
‘Yeah…yeah…sorry.’ Leonard thought as he rose.
“Say do you have the lemon and lime?”
‘That’s exactly what I came her to lose.’
“O? And did ya?”
‘Nah. Cause now it’s time for me to be goin seeing as I’ve stumbled onto a royal outhouse.’
“Well, where did ya think ye were?”
‘Kentucky.’ Leonard mused wistfully.
With that the trucker awoke vomiting violently in the toilet of a Dutch Royal Shell.
“Fuck, I knew I shouldn’t of eaten that sandwich.”
“You alright lad?” An accented voice followed the sound of a gently opening door.
Leo whirled around to face a lot lizard with a Saxon jaw that could break icebergs.
“Oh, Christ… Don’t tell me you’re the duchess!”
Well…I have to rely on rather modest equipment…while on a tight scheduel…as such I may not be able to render another philosophy vlog. So in case I do the proper thing and fall asleep I leave you with this umm…gem.
If you’d like to help me improve my video productions and get less stories about transvestite rabbits then kindly toss a shilling in me hat guvner.
Support the Journal
Make a donation via PayPal to help zazz things up.
$1.00
Not Just Zazz…but Pizzazz
Too high class for regular Zazz?
Help Pizzaz up TFJ!
As far as I remember there was more drunken kabob roasting then training of Ursine Commandos.
Sometimes when folks get to know me and find out that I am originally from Russia they ask me geopolitical questions.
And of course I hear the news every sodding day.
News like this:
…Which only tangentially touches on Russia but nontheless makes me raise an eyebrow like so:
Russia has an interest in the Ukraine?
Working against our efforts?
Excuse me. But, I’m Russian American with a Ukranian great grandfather (i.e. the countries are geographicaly and ethnically closely related).
Your efforts in the region are about as natural and warranted as the Russians building up a strong military presence in Mexico while funding La Raza (See Azov Battalion). Do you know anything about the region?
What is it with Americans and their psychotic fear of a sparsely populated but self sufficient country that doesn’t want to become a NATO vasal state? I get being even handed but this level of nervous toedipping into the idea that maybe the demonized side aren’t really demons seems to be peculiarly strong regarding Russia.
Being an American citizen raised here since a young age I don’t have any particular patriotism for Russia. But I do have a perspective that makes me ask what the fuck is going 9000+ times a day.
Support the Journal
Make a donation via PayPal to help zazz things up.
$1.00
Not Just Zazz…but Pizzazz
Too high class for regular Zazz?
Help Pizzaz up TFJ!
I will never cease to be baffled by the pride that a good chunk of humanity seems to take in submitting to preistcraft. By preistcraft I do not necessarily mean religion.
In this broadened definition I include many ideologies and yes…among them I dare include that shibboleth called ‘science.’
Now, I am not a fan of comparing science to religion. This being due to the fact that science is not religion. But there is a sort of popular notion of science that may as well be religion.
It is both pro and prescriptive. It has a metaphysic. It has an ethic. There are within its dogmas not only cosmological claims but outright prophecies.
This is not the science of Spinoza or Feynman. That is to say it is not science. It is whimsy and hubris systematized. That is to say religion.
It has priests and teachers of the law.
I do not even so much here begrudge authoritarianism as I lament sloth. For its profound mental laziness that causes so many otherwise rational people to utter the demure prayer:
“I am not a scientist.”
Well…so bloody what?
Do you not have access to books? Or to get less medieval… to the sodding internet?
Ah but you require special training. These mysteries must of course be properly understood.
Yes, and did you not spend at least twelve years of your life in the school system?
Alright… I get it…that institution is deteriorated and generally rots the mind. Fine, all well and good. I too am cynical about the supposedly unalloyed good of mandatory public schooling.
However…even the most barefoot, twelve-toed, slug snacking Appalachian scion surely understands that the beauty of science is in its inherent democracy. Or if you prefer Libertarianism.
How is it that the experts to which you submit your reason came to their knowledge? Was it through sorcery? Did they approach a shewstone and therein decipher the mind of the most high God?
Or did they apply the fairly simple mechanisms of the scientific method to expand and expound upon the current body of knowledge?
You tell me that you cannot do the same?
Or are you in a roundabout way asserting that I cannot do so. That I must flagellate myself. That I should toss my critical faculties into the purifying flames of inquisition. That I should shroud my brain in the same Catholic darkness that gives you the jollies?
Suppose all those mea culpas ever bleeding from your rosary are valid. That we are both at sea before the vast incomprehensibility of the universe. That we require the confessional booth. That we must submit to a higher power.
Fine.
But I have a question…
WHICH?
To which higher power should I surrender? I suspect that your answer will depend entirely on your political persuasion.
If you do not know the things of which you are speaking of. If they are so arcane and require so many years of academic pilgrimage to fathom…then how…in all sodding Christendom do you know whether you agree.
Would it not be simpler to just vomit Druidic litanies?
Or at least more cough than humble bragging…
If you have ceased to be able to work with the facts and theories thus far achieved and must now entirely lean upon the insights of the clergy. How…HOW…pray tell is this science? The thing whose chief strength is mutability. A strength nourished by diligent scrutiny.
I guess there’s really not much use in railing against this madness. It seems to be more of a drive than a philosophical position.
I doubt I’ll ever understand it.
I guess I just don’t have that kinky submissive streak that plagues such a large chunk of humanity.
Support the Journal
Make a donation via PayPal to help zazz things up.
$1.00
Not Just Zazz…but Pizzazz
Too high class for regular Zazz?
Help Pizzaz up TFJ!
Still dwelling in hotels whilst the house undergoes repairs. Speaking of house the thing needs to have the roof swept, the back and front yard raked, months of dishes done, the carpets cleaned, and the owner whipped. (I’m the owner.)
There have been too many of those small inconveniences like not having hot water to do dishes. These combined with my work schedule and familial duties have given my inner excuse machine hyper fuel. My creativity and assets have suffered as a result.
Being between places is peculiarly infuriating.
I think my several months of stagnation are proof of the importance of having good regimens in place before your infrastructure begins to give you grief.
TL;DR but mommy I don’t wanna go to school.
On second thought I’ll probably just have a pint.
Shame me into action by giving me your hard-earned cash. The more alcohol I can afford the more effusive my fingers. Tipppitiy tappaty! Clikaty clakaty! This is not an encouragement of drinking. I am Russian and thus a professional. Please leave the drinking to me.
Support the Journal
Make a donation via PayPal to help zazz things up.
$1.00
Not Just Zazz…but Pizzazz
Too high class for regular Zazz?
Help Pizzaz up TFJ!
The Fractal Journal 