Bowtie Boy gets Russia hysterically wrong

So. I guess you must have heard of a certain “journalist” from the US of Amnesia, who recently decided to show all his countrymen how their “leftist” (really, just very lukewarmly liberal) values have ensured the “fall of Western Civilization”, whatever THAT may be. And that to illustrate his point, he went all the way to Russia, to fawn over Pooty-Poot, lick his boots to a high shine, and just generally humiliate himself by demonstrating how little he knows about the world and how it works.

Anyhow, Russian YouTubers have been having a lot of fun at said “journalist’s” expense, and here’s one of them, doing just that:

Right off the bat, I can see (with my admittedly limited ability to read Russian) that the shopping mall our Bowtie Boy visits is called “Gagarin’s”. Yuri Gagarin was a Soviet-era cosmonaut, the first person ever to orbit the Earth, and also a very committed communist. It’s therefore highly ironic that his name (and a stylized logo glorifying his pioneering space flight) are being used to adorn an oligarch-owned castle of capitalism.

So, Floppy Forelock goes through this goofy-ass mall on his trip to the supermarket, oohing and ahhing over the escalators like he’s never been on one. Maybe he really hasn’t? We learn that he has no idea that coin-lock shopping carts are a thing. (They are, just about everywhere there are supermarkets. Here in Canada, they cost a loonie to unlock, which translates to roughly the ten rubles their Russian cousins take. I often find them loonieless and unlocked, however, and like to leave them that way for the next customer whenever I do.)

And thanks to our narrator, we also learn something Tucky’s not telling us: it isn’t even Russian-owned. It’s a French chain, Auchan (russified, here, to “Ashan”), which may explain why they have all that good-smelling bread that Tuckyducks jizzes his pants over while backhandedly dissing the “low-carb lifestyle”. Yes, Russia has bread, and not just the French kind. It’s a big friggin’ country, and rich in farmland, although the locals seem to be not quite as good at working it as their neighbors in Ukraine, the famous “breadbasket of Europe”. (Which may explain why they want to annex all that sweet, sweet, well-cultivated Ukrainian soil.)

(And all that lovely Crimean wine, too.)

If the insufferable silver-spoon scion really wonders why his ten-ruble shopping cart full of Russian groceries cost so little, it’s because he picked up much of it in the No Name section of the store. Which, apparently, still has its prices (and probably also its quality) stuck in the same dull end of the Soviet era that Tucky took the trouble to slam at the outset. The one thing you can say about the Auchan chain and its Russian subsidiary is hey, at least they haven’t discovered the Galen Weston trick of charging extortionate prices for store-brand goods, and then having the Orwellian audacity to pass it off as a bargain!

So, how DID all those foreign brands supposedly pulling out of Russia somehow still end up just as much for sale in Russia as ever? Well, for that, we can blame good ol’ globalized capitalism. Turns out, there are plenty of foreign companies who will still do business with Russia. And neighboring lands, such as the former Soviet republic of Kazakhstan, who have trade agreements with Russia still, are more than happy to act as middlemen and bring in whatever is wanted.

And the few western brands that did actually pull out of Russia? Well, Russian oligarchs, in their infinite ingenuity, just bought up their former assets, rebranded them to look vaguely familiar, and sold lesser-quality shit out of them, pretending it was just as good as what was being replaced, AND more “patriotic”, to boot. Which was good for more than a few cynical sneers on the part of the peasants — who, as in the days of the Czars, weren’t really fooled, but at least knew how to pretend to be, in order to save their necks from the imperial boot.

Fucker doesn’t seem to understand how basic pricing works, and how the cost of goods is scaled to what the average Russian can actually afford. In that, he’s just like all the capitalists over here (and remember, he comes from the same damn class as all of them) — he hasn’t got a clue what the average North American worker makes. Or how hard it is for them to make ends meet when they have bosses ripping them off on the one hand, stealing wages to pay for those record-high profits and CEO bonuses, and landlords ripping them off on the other, forcing them to pay the mortgages that said landlords can’t pay off themselves with good honest work. AND, on top of it all, we also have our grocery corporations, who each own pretty much their entire supply chain (hence, those store-brand products), and then have the audacity to claim pandemic-related “supply chain issues” are the reason their “low, low prices” are suddenly all jacked through the roof, and why their “price freezes” are just a dirty PR stunt.

I think Fucker knows damn well what’s up, and just isn’t saying because he’s not being paid to say that. It’s not as if he lacks for education, and it’s certainly not as if he lacks for internet access, newswires, or a big fat roster of experts in every field who could tell him whatever he and his audience might want to know. He’s very well-connected for such a stupid little man (and yes, I cackled when I saw Pooty-poot clown on him for failing to make it into the CIA, on account of his intellect being too low even for that legendarily dim-witted gang of spooks). Even he is not so dense as to be unaware of what’s really going to butter all that great-smelling bread he bought at Auchan/Ashan, or wherever he sends his servants to shop for him when he’s not performing regular suburban guyhood for the cameras.

Tucker Fucking Carlson is being paid to spread racism and fascism in the name of capitalism. That’s why he brings up “filth” (read: IMMIGRANTS AND REFUGEES) in his little soliloquy in that supermarket. He’s being paid to blame immigrants from Latin America, and refugees from Syria and Palestine (but he won’t mention Ukraine, because they’re white) for “taking” all the jobs that capitalism isn’t giving his skinfolk (let’s ignore the fact that the immigrants and refugees are taking the ones that nobody else wants) or bringing in exotic diseases (as though affluent white global travelers couldn’t spread COVID as fast as the poorest non-whites just looking for a home that won’t get bombed out from over top of them.) He’s a capitalist scion himself, being paid by richer capitalists to keep his peasant viewers in the dark about what’s really going on while they continue to rob us all quite literally blind.

And that’s why I’m joining the Russians in their good belly-laugh at his expense. It might not put the best-quality food on the collective table, but it should take some of the bitterness out of it, for at least a little while.

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Posted in Canadian Counterpunch, Corruptos, Crapagandarati, Economics for Dummies, Epidumbics, Fascism Without Swastikas, Filthy Stinking Rich, Grifters, Isn't It Ironic?, Isn't That Racist?, Morticia! You Spoke French!, Nepotism, Newspeak is Nospeak, Schadenfreude, Spooks, Teh Russkies, The 'Stans, The United States of Amnesia, Ukraine, Ikraine, WeAllKraine | Comments Off on Bowtie Boy gets Russia hysterically wrong

Quotable: Bill Lishman on the environment

“As individuals I have no doubt that we are the most intelligent beings on this planet. All living things strive to influence their environment to satisfy their needs, but all other species are directed by relatively limited and unvarying sets of instinctive behavioral patterns. Our ability to choose and change has given us remarkable survival powers. But it has also increased the risk that we will trigger changes we don’t fully understand. We are still missing the big picture, and while we are certainly intelligent, we are not yet globally wise. The human race is not yet house-broken, or should we say planet-broken? We are becoming aware that in our race for comfort, security, and affluence we have fouled our own nest.”

–Bill Lishman, Father Goose

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Posted in Canadian Counterpunch, Environmentally Ill, Quotable Notables | Comments Off on Quotable: Bill Lishman on the environment

Music for a Sunday: What’s that sound?

Everybody look what’s goin’ ’round…again:

This song may be older than I am, but it will never NOT be relevant. Especially in an age of incessant wars and school shootings.

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Posted in Angry Pacifist Speaks Her Mind, Canadian Counterpunch, Guns, Guns, Guns, Music for a Sunday | Comments Off on Music for a Sunday: What’s that sound?

Donnie’s tiny hands have blood on them (literally and figuratively)

Hey, hi, hello, and Happy New Year!

Take a good look at this, and tell me if you see what I see:

Aside from the creepy contrast between his pale palms and his orange face, Donnie Drumpf’s little baby hands have some angry red lesions on them. What could those mysterious bloody-red spots be?

James Carville asked around among some doctors he knows, and says they unanimously regard those lesions as a sign of secondary syphilis:

And yes, those do indeed look like gummas to my eyes, as well.

So, if Mr. Carville and the unnamed MDs he mentions are right, and ol’ Donnie has syphilis, it says a number of frankly awful things about him:

1. He doesn’t even have the basic courtesy to use condoms, despite all his talk of how trying to avoid STDs was as hard as going to war in Vietnam;
2. He doesn’t see his primary-care physician nearly as much as a man of his age and (obviously not good) condition should;
3. When he does see a doctor (whenever THAT may be), the doctor is not allowed to diagnose, let alone actually treat him, for any illnesses he may have (and be carrying, and spreading to God only knows who all else) — because Donnie, in his senile dictatorial vanity, won’t hear of it.

Given the widely affirmed fact that his hygiene and diet are terrible, as is his body odor, it seems entirely plausible that Donnie probably does have untreated secondary syphilis. Is it really shocking that a man who literally smells like ass would not only neglect to wipe and wash himself, but also neglect to seek treatment for a very curable bacterial infection?

If what I suspect proves true, and that his brain is deteriorating due to syphilitic paresis (the same illness that ended up killing Al Capone), then it explains a number of things, from Donnie’s grandiose and nonsensical daily rants, to the fact that Melania renegotiated her pre-nup and is seen with him as little as possible. Heck, it even explains why she’s so reluctant to hold his hand.

And why wouldn’t she be, considering where that hand has most likely been?

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Posted in Der Drumpf, Epidumbics, Farts, Fascism Without Swastikas, Filthy Stinking Rich, Mobsters, Sick Frickin' Bastards, The United States of Amnesia, The WTF? Files | Comments Off on Donnie’s tiny hands have blood on them (literally and figuratively)

It’s been a heckin’ year.

Hello again, friends and strangers.

Sorry I’ve been away so long, but there’s a good reason for that. This has been the Year From Hades for me.

I’ve had two driving tests (one flunked, one FINALLY passed), a biopsy, two surgeries, a bunch of household emergencies coming all on top of one another, and what feels suspiciously like a mental breakdown of sorts. It seems like I’ve had everything but cancer or COVID (and believe me, I’m NOT hoping to find out for reals what any of THAT is like, because I’ve had enough of sickness and convalescence this past year to last me another five at least.)

So, where have I been? Oh, where have I NOT?

I had to take my driving test twice, both times at a location an hour’s drive away. Which was, in addition to all else, tough to find because the street signs in the town where I took it were, shall we say, lacking. That screwed me up the first time I went to take it, because of course I got lost. No signs pointing me to the DriveTest centre, no GPS, no reliable roadmaps, no driving instructor to navigate and/or give me any last-minute coaching. It was just me in the car, scared shitless the whole way up the two-lane skinny, circling frantically through subdivisions and parking lots and leafing through the useless Google Maps printouts I’d laid on the passenger seat. By the time I arrived at the drive-test centre I was wayyyyy late, and really should have said no when they offered to test me anyway, because I was so flustered that I flunked. I also had to get an extension on my G2, which was a source of shame and chagrin for weeks afterward. I’d had such high ambitions for not only driving over an hour there (and over an hour back), but passing every element of the test with flying colors. Instead, I made all the dumbest rookie mistakes imaginable.

(BTW, none of this would have happened if the drive-test centre in my own town had still been open; thanks a buttload, Mike Fucking Harris, for yet another fine screwing you’ve imposed on this province. I hope you get extra-long COVID, and that even your for-profit nursing home chain doesn’t save your miserable, unnatural life, you motherfucking toadstool.)

Thankfully, I was ready the next time, and everything I needed to do clicked in my brain just days before. Sometimes you buckle under pressure; other times, you just buckle the fuck DOWN.

Meanwhile, something was up in my uterus. Around this time last year, I had what felt like a massive, horrendous period, only worse. It was the second one I’d had in as many years. The previous time, it went on for over a week, and I was miffed because I’d have to set my menopause clock back to zero, after a good year without a period. This time, it went on for over two whole weeks. Again, after a good whole year without a period.

So I made an appointment with my doctor, embarked on a battery of blood tests that showed me to be menopausal after all, and got my first shock of the year in January: My blood pressure was too high! So, I got a prescription for that. Yay! My first official Old Lady Medication.

And while I was thankful that the pills worked well and without side effects, the Two (Postmenopausal) Periods From Hades were still very much on my mind, so I raised the issue repeatedly with my regular physician until she referred me to a gynecologist. He ordered tests. First an ultrasound, which determined that my uterine lining was unusually thick, which may have been the cause of the bleeds. Then, an endometrial biopsy, which I feared and dreaded but needn’t have; it was far less crampy than even a normal period for me. That test was inconclusive, since not enough endometrial tissue was aspirated to test. So then I had to have a hysteroscopy/D&C, which was the first of the two operations. It turned out to be a polypectomy as well; the scope had shown a growth on the uterine wall. Culprit found and eliminated! Or so I thought.

Well, a biopsy showed the polyp to be precancerous. While I was absorbing the good news it wasn’t cancer just yet, the gyno sprang his next little surprise on me: I was going to need a total laparoscopic hysterectomy, with bilateral salpingo-oophorectomy. (Try saying THAT five times fast. Drunk or sober, you simply can’t.)

If I’d been younger and still hoping for kids, this treatment might not have been recommended, but due to my age and the fact that I never wanted kids anyway, that horse was long out of the barn. In fact, my tubes were tied 20 years ago, so there was also that. And in any case, I’m not a believer in feminine martyrdom or anything else that falls under the rubric of “let God decide it for you”. If I could forestall cancer by getting rid of some non-essential organs which had been a source of grief to me for four decades, then damn it, I was going to. So I signed the consent form and made hasty preparations for my recovery at home.

Three weeks later, near the end of September, I was in surgery. Again. And after a couple of hours, I was out — sans uterus, cervix, Fallopian tubes, and ovaries. Tired, but hopeful. The garden had already been dug over and tarped just days before I was due to go in. All I had to do now was recover, and hope that the coming winter wouldn’t be too snowy. So far, it hasn’t been. My recovery has been considerably less eventful than the weather.

As for the household emergencies, I’ll spare you the details. I’m not out of the woods there yet, anyway.

So. Here I am, looking at another year, this time with some things I didn’t have this time last year (a full-fledged driver’s licence, blood pressure medication) and minus some things I did have (all my reproductive organs, right down to my tired, retired ovaries). Probably the first order of business in January (which starts tomorrow!) will be to call my doctor and get checked out mentally, and ask for either antidepressants or estrogen, I’m really not sure which. Maybe one, maybe the other, maybe even both. Won’t that be fun? Yep, I’m SO looking forward to that.

Anyhow, happy New Year! Let’s hope it’s better than this one’s been. Even as low as I am, I’m still thankful to put it behind me at last.

It could all have been so much worse.

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Posted in Confessions of a Bad German, Writer Lady Sings the Blues | Comments Off on It’s been a heckin’ year.

What you need to know about Israel and Palestine right now

First off, MSNBC’s Ali Velshi gives an on-the-ground impression:

The situation is really stark, and awful for Palestinians in Gaza particularly (seeing as it’s already the world’s largest open-air prison, this is all too predictable).

The Rational National’s David Doel has compiled a great bunch of tweets and clips, including one from the late Michael Brooks that hasn’t aged a day:

Yanis Varoufakis’s takes are, as always, the best.

Meanwhile, at the Majority Report, Emma Vigeland is mincing NO words:

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Posted in Angry Pacifist Speaks Her Mind, Bullies, Crapagandarati, Do As I Say..., Fascism Without Swastikas, Gazing on Gaza, Human Rights FAIL, Isn't That Terrorism?, Israelly Uncool, Newspeak is Nospeak, Sick Frickin' Bastards, The United States of Amnesia, The War on Terra | Comments Off on What you need to know about Israel and Palestine right now

Plague rat heads exploding in 3…2…1…

Hold onto your hats, folks, it’s about to start raining rodent brain tissue:

Who knew that a vaccine technology pioneered in the 1990s — yes, way back then, and NOT yesterday! — would finally find its niche during a particularly deadly pandemic? And who knew that this technology — which is NOT experimental anymore! — would work?

Well, these two scientists did. And now the whole world knows, too.

Congratulations, Doctors, you deserve every bit of this. Just keep your umbrellas up in case some plague rat’s head explodes near you, y’hear?

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Posted in Epidumbics, Isn't It Ironic?, She Blinded Me With Science | Comments Off on Plague rat heads exploding in 3…2…1…

Trashy congresscritter actually forced to apologize for being trash

You may not need to see it in order to believe it (the part about Bobo being trashy, I mean), but here you go anyway:

Now, if only they would show the apology. I guess that part is just too much to expect.

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Posted in Credit Where Due, Fascism Without Swastikas, Fetus Fetishists, Grifters, Guns, Guns, Guns, Isn't It Ironic?, Not So Compassionate Conservatism, Professional Phobes, Schadenfreude, The Hardcore Stupid, The United States of Amnesia | Comments Off on Trashy congresscritter actually forced to apologize for being trash

Old fart rips one at gasbag dinner

Come for the hilarity, stay for the unfunny reality:

Yes, that fart-fight at the food-fest was funny…but what’s not funny is the misinformation that Bobby Kennedy Jr. is spreading.

And he’s a fucking environmental lawyer! He knows better, or should — but he chooses not to care. And worse, he chooses to come to a false conclusion about the parts he does care about. Worst of all, he keeps spreading those false conclusions like a Typhoid Bobby. Remember his anti-vaccine activism? Over a million US citizens don’t, because they’re now dead of COVID. The death toll from that pandemic is now greater, for the United States of Amnesia, than those of both world wars combined! I hate to think how many of them died because Bobby or someone like him planted unjustified fear — oh sorry, “vaccine hesitancy” — in their hearts.

Just imagine how much more damage he can do with anti-environmental nonsense like his idea that man-made climate change is just a “scare”, and that the “discipline of the free market”, which has been conspicuously absent, will somehow “correct” it. Because unlike COVID, climate change will harm us all, and no place is safe from it. And the eastern seaboard of the US, in particular, is heavily populated and in grave danger from rising ocean levels.

Mike’s right, we should be concerned. It’s time to start slapping corporate carbon monsters with real punishments, instead of waiting for the much-vaunted “free market” to come up with something, because it won’t. And time’s up. My home and native land is on fire, and people are choking to death on the smoke, while our neighbors are drowning just to the south of where I sit. And what is the Great Environmental Lawyer, nephew of the late, lamented JFK, and son of the also-lamented RFK, doing about it? In effect, he’s just twiddling his thumbs and emitting hot air…when he’s not being openly farted at by some climate-denialist fool.

And that’s what really stinks.

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Posted in Canadian Counterpunch, Crapagandarati, Economics for Dummies, Environmentally Ill, Epidumbics, Farts, Grifters, Isn't It Ironic?, Kooks, Law-Law Land, Quacks, Shysters, Teh Ghey, The Trans, The United States of Amnesia | Comments Off on Old fart rips one at gasbag dinner

Heeeeere, kitty, kitty, kitty.

Ash Sarkar dissects the latest right-wing moral panic over something that doesn’t really exist — i.e., kids who identify as animals. It’s especially hilarious when “journalists” start offering to pay for accounts by supposedly exasperated parents of such children. It’s such a real thing, that so truly exists, that they have to pay for stories of it!

And when they’re not busy offering payment for anonymous parent accounts (and getting trolled by respondents who’ve clearly read their Kafka), they’re going on the air in cat ears and makeup themselves, and presenting this as An Actual Thing That Actually Happens. They’re becoming exactly what they’re supposedly denouncing.

The right is all about free speech, as we all know. And freedom of expression, too, provided that said speech and expression are sexist, racist, imperialist, pro-capitalist, anti-queer, anti-poor, or anti-anything and anyone that isn’t exactly like themselves. They will fight to the death (yours) for their right to call you a slur, and tooth and nail to oppose your right to object. And when you keep fighting back, and winning, they’ll retreat to their little corner, mewling and whimpering about how No One Has Any Respect Anymore.

Well, hard cheese. No one owes respect to people who seriously believe that public schools are now being forced to provide litterboxes in every classroom for those kids who identify as cats, or who can’t tell a transgender kid (which IS a real thing) from a kid who thinks they’re a cat to the extent that they actually communicate only in meows and eat only kibble. People who think that you shouldn’t teach school-age kids what LGBT+ people are without immediately assuring them that “that’s not normal, those people are sick and need help”, don’t deserve any more respect than a meow down the phone, or a prank e-mail about their son who now thinks he’s a giant cockroach. Because, unlike people who identify as cats, LGBT+ people are real, they are normal, and they don’t need any help other than the kind that comes from actual societal acceptance. LGBT+ people are the ones who are owed respect here, and they’re still having to fight to get it.

And when they put up a fight, and that fight seems to be going in their favor, what does the free-speech right wing do? Why, just what any respectable fighter for Freeze Peach does: They make shit up. Because made-up shit has always trumped reality in the right-wing world. How else would anyone believe that empires are good, that people who make their bundle off the backs of everyone else are the best and brightest, or that racism, sexism, and all the phobias and bigotries are normal?

Now, out here in the real world, there ARE classrooms where buckets of kitty litter are kept in the closet. But it’s not for kids who think they are kitties. It’s for when there’s an active shooter on the loose, and schools are in lockdown, so no one can get to a bathroom for hours on end. That is a real and pressing problem. But of course, the right won’t talk about that, and will even shame you for “politicizing a tragedy” if you try to bring it up — because among all the other made-up shit they believe in, they also think that guns are the solution to all problems, and never an actual problem unto themselves, nosirree!

And of course, the same right-wingers who think guns solve all problems, also think that guns would be the best answer to the existence of anyone who contradicts their smug, cozy, all-about-me narratives. LGBT+ kids? If you can’t talk them out of that, shoot them like you would a rabid dog. Same goes for blacks, Jews, Asians, indigenous peoples, you name it. Anyone who’s out of line, bang-bang.

Yes, it’s been tried before, and yes, a whole world war was fought (and lost) by those defending just such ideas. And empires and bigotries have been crumbling slowly ever since. But remember, kids, it’s Antifa who’s the real baddie here!

Most of all, you must never ask what Antifa is or why it’s so bad, because then, you’d have to talk about fascism. And that’s a swearword to those on the Freeze Peach right. You can tell by how much they whine when anyone calls them, quite rightly, a fascist. Hell, Elon Fucking Musk will even ban you from Twitter if you dare to denounce them as such, or try to block their hateful tweets. No, better just to believe some 4chan hoax than to point out that the emperor is nekkid as a jaybird, and nowhere near as pretty. Because it’s all about your freedom to believe in the dumbest shit, don’t you know?

PS: If you believe anything you see on GBN, here’s some news for you. Enjoy!

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Posted in Bullies, Crapagandarati, Dweebs, Fascism WITH Swastikas, Fascism Without Swastikas, Filthy Stinking Rich, Freeze Peach!, Guns, Guns, Guns, Human Rights FAIL, Isn't It Ironic?, Isn't That Racist?, Isn't That Terrorism?, Kittehs, Kooks, Merry Old England, Newspeak is Nospeak, Not So Compassionate Conservatism, Teh Ghey, The Hardcore Stupid, The Trans, The United States of Amnesia | Comments Off on Heeeeere, kitty, kitty, kitty.