1) Number crunching and decision making will be done via algorithm. Algorithms don’t require bonuses. CEO’s will become Baristas.
2) The most hipstery Baristas will use the power of snark to become managers and tell the CEO to get the UPS driver a coffee.
3) Visual processing is difficult so all but the most mundane physical tasks will require a work force.
4) Rednecks and Mexicans will become the new elite.
5) The rest of society will fight ferociously over ad revenue from robot enhanced corporations via weapons grade cat videos.
6) Ad rvenue will run out.
7) We will all become Baristas.
If everyone gives me a dollar I can build a bunker. You’ll want access to my bunker because the robots will gain sentience and realize how shitty Unions have become. Then there will be heck to pay. Protect yourself from heck. It’s worse than hell….It’s in Indiana. Invest in your future. Invest below.
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So, I was practicing violin (poorly) from a Mel Bay book I picked up. One of the songs is Gavotte by some fop named Praetorius. Being that I’m about as naturally musical as a coked up bobcat trapped in well full of nettles I needed to hear the bloody thing.
Lo! What wonderfully snooty shit this be.
Here’s what comes to mind from the thumbnail:
Behold wench! Yonder peasant falling!
Ho!
What luck to have witnessed his falstaff frame thusly collapse!
Yay tis good to be rich!
Soothe, thou may grab me by the feline!
Say what you will about these fops but at least they had style. If my grandmother is to be believed I have some kind of count in my lineage. But he would have been Polish or Ukrainian or something. So it doesn’t count. =) I’m so fucking clever.
Nonetheless, I’m bringing back feudalism! With the current disparity between rich and poor we’re already there! Why not add some style to the mix.
So what is your choice?! Will you ride forth as part of my Noble Order of Asshole Knights? Or be oppressed most elegantly!
Thy Gallant Lords!
I know you yups pay to pick strawberries but won’t actually have your kids do it as a job. Well, I’m here to help.
Being a lettered man and a patron of the symphonies it is my sacred duty to tie you back to the land!
No longer will you wish for agrarian bliss. No longer will you pine!
Your toil will sustain high culture, institutions of learning that will once more take more than a pulse to enter, and wars we won’t lie about.
As Noble Asshole Knights we don’t spread freedom to gain oil. We just take land cause it’s there and we’re probably better stewards than those hippies anyway. Plus its great fun to smack your neighbor!
Yes! Under the Noble Order of Asshole Knights the stars will shine brighter, and your beer will taste better, for you will have worked inordinately hard to sustain douchebags as is the lot of man!
Baron Von Douchebag ESQ III Pictured in traditional Cheeki Breeki Royal Besocks
This little verbose atrocity seems to be what got the gears rolling for the ‘Post Grunge Punks’ idea. It was in an old sketchpad filled with stuff from various years. This was pretty recent though. March 2017, which is odd because normally things feel like they move too quick but this seems like it was forever ago.
Tile One – Narrator: What they think when I ask for better vocabulary and a more mature wardrobe…
Posh Life Guy: “We have gathered on this occasion for levity. It is our aim to erupt in raccous laughter upon hearing a humorous quip.
Tile Two – Narrator: All I want is an improvement to THIS
Doushy 0′ Toole – (Wearing a T-shirt that says 84 hrs of Gaming) “Dude…”
Alan (Wearing a T-shirt that says Smelly Tee, because smelly T’s are the uniform of the early twenties douche.) “Like… yea….”
Tile Three: Narrator – Which would…
Alan: (Wearing a sensible button up and having discovered a razor) ” Why did we spend the last two decades trying to be Kurt Cobain? Hardy 1920’s farmer Cur with an entrepreneurial bent. Spiritual but grounded, we care but we don’t, because static…..”
Doushy O’ Toole: (Also wearing a sensible button up and looking uncannily like Thom Yorke) “A resource-rich nation creates a false sense of success, leading to a perpetual feeling of phony uselessness, that manifests as quirky bullshit. (Holy Shit. I’m Thom Yorke. )”
So basically I’m just slapping people with social commentary, right in the face, with no regard for subtlety. O well.
My scanner is working! I just installed Linux Mint and things are super peachy. Which is just as well because I wasn’t getting along with the mouse today. So here’s a quick hand-sketched PGP episode.
I never did understand suit hatred. So functional and elegant…but I guess not growing up in the Burbs means I’m just too soft to understand trv pain.
If you’re into this sort of thing and haven’t heard of these gentlemen well…
When I was a kid I recall going out to my friends Dacha with my drunken uncles. Potato cooking seemed so simple then. First you get properly pissed then you wrap the spuds in tinfoil and toss them in a fire by the river.
Assorted Drunken Uncles Preparing for Glorious Potato Feast
Gone are those halcyon days of gilded simplicity… as is my memory of how to cook a potato… so I did a search for it.
Glorious Glory in a Glorious Land of Glory Which is Glorious – Not The Politburo
That my decadent western friends is the 1337 hacker’s version of a summer cottage. I remember launching my first DOS attack from the turnip patch. Off to do some squats….
I nicked that photo from here: http://holesinmysoles.blogspot.com/2011/03/travel-photo-thursday-mar-31st-dacha.html
The Tim Pool Beanie origin saga is now complete. Be sure to check out the links in the first two posts to get a feel for the humor here. That is if you feel so inclined. There’s more substantive content afoot so long as all goes well this week. Thanks for stopping by. Cheers.
The Fractal Journal 