Today in unsolicited advice:

Sorry, I'm being ridiculous. This is America,
they've almost certainly got a gun.

Hey, do you want my advice? Whatever you do, don't--huh? What do you mean, no? I mean, of course you don't want my advice. Who wants unsolicited advice about a mystery topic from a blog? Do people even do blogs anymore? But my point is you should at least feign interest. For all you know, my advice could be "watch out behind you, he's got a knife." It's not, he doesn't, and settle down, I can't actually see you, but you didn't know that. Although I suppose there is a non-zero posability of someone with a knife behind you right now, so maybe check?

Anyway, my advice? Don't get COVID. I managed to so far into this nonsense without getting it and it finally looked like maybe it was on i's way out, or at least turning into something like a cold or the flu. But then, smack. Saturday morning. The ol' pink stripe. 

Three years of avoiding social interaction for nothing.
Now I'm going to need a whole new excuse.

Then I remembered that that's not really
a thing and people who think they are immune
are kind of dumb. And possibly dead now.

Now, I know what you're thinking: grout kitchen countertops? Those are the worst. And you'd be correct. But secondarily, what made me think I was so special? Exceptionalism, I guess? I am an American. But mostly I thought that if I went above and beyond the CDC recommendations, I could avoid it. I mean, I don't work in a particularly high risk environment, I masked longer than almost everyone else, and I went in for every shot and booster shot they'd give me. I was even beginning to think I was just naturally immune or something.

But here we are, or rather, here I am: day four on the couch, and rapidly running out of YouTube and patience for YouTube. I'm not complaining mind you, far too many people had it way worse that I do. Boredom is hardly the worst part of being sick, but goddamn, there are only so many times I can skip that State Farm flower shop ad. 

YouTube uses a kind of extortion business model:
pay us and we'll stop making you watch ads.

*Incidentally, while finding the shot above, I somehow managed to capture a moment where the flower shop owner is making the same face I make whenever this ad comes on:

"Say businesses is blooming one more time..."

Was it something I said?

Or typed? I ask because a couple of posts I wrote--one from 2016 and another from 2019--now have one of these in front of them:

Yeah, a sensative content warning. You know, that thing blogs
get if they regularly post porn. I mean, that's what I heard.

Pictured: basically me. 

I've been doing this for like twelve years now and I've never had one of these before. Evidently someone flagged me? I guess I don't know how this works, and finding out seems to involve a lot of reading of end user agreements and guidelines, so really there's no way to know. According to the email they sent me I can update the sensitive content and then re-publish or something and that's fine, whatever, but I'm not actually sure how this happened in the first place. For one, I think like maybe, at most, five people actually read my blog and I know all of them. Have I been betrayed? Has someone close to me ratted me out?

Singer Bryan Adams also pulled out--
let me finish--of some shows in the State.

I'm not saying I don't deserve it, but I'm not super clear on precisely what in the posts in question warranted the flagging. The 2016 post is about how the website, XHamster, which I understand to deal in adult content suspended operations in North Carolina in response to law that allowed business to discriminate against queer people. A spokesperson for the site called out North Carolinian's robustly diverse pornographic preferences (as evidenced by XHamster's each history) as evidence of hypocrisy in passing their bigoted laws. That is, for a State with homophobic laws, they sure do love gay porn.

Above: the hill the American Right
is willing to die on this week.

I suppose my admittedly obvious jokes about Sodom and Gomorrah could conceivably be considered adult, but I mean, the definition seems a little squidgy. The 2019 post on the other hand was about the (first) impeachment of Donald Trump, and how maybe he wasn't on the up and up. I don't think it rises to the level of bullying as outlined in the community guidelines, but conservatives are threatened by M&M's so who can even say with these people?

It looks like I can request a review or something but I don't know, is it even worth it? On the one hand I just don't like the idea that some rando can, without offering a specific criticism or complaint, get my blog slapped with a Sensitive Content Warning. On the other hand, that all seems like a lot of work when I could just move on with my day.

There are so many other reasons to take issue with my blog: frequent
spelling errors, incorrect use of punctuation, an over-reliance on images
with joke captions. Why are you even reading this? I mean, I wouldn't.

Yes, it's exactly like getting E. coli.

Could we all just...I don't know, maybe not shop on Amazon? Or at the very least, if you're going to do it, maybe don't tell me? You know, the guy working at the bookstore? 

Pictured: Jeff Bezos, a man with a dream. A dream to undercut small, independent
booksellers, drive them out of business, and then consume the rest of American brick
and mortar retail until there's just one, giant, anticompetitive mega corporation. 

Super, I'm sure they need the business.

I work at a bookstore as I may or may not have mentioned before, and the other day I was helping a customer who as looking for a book. She didn't have a specific title in mind, just a topic. We didn't have one precisely fitting what she wanted, but I did a little digging and found one we could order for her in a couple days. Cool, right? No. She said: "forget it, I'll just go home and order it on Amazon." Then she went on to let me know that the shipping will be free, and they'll get it to her in just a couple of days.

Remember when Amazon just let their
drivers shit in bags? Because they do.

Which, couple of things. First. I actually know how Amazon works, but thanks. Secondly, a couple of days? That's like the same time frame I gave her. Admittedly, it's possible, nay, likely that the book would get to her faster coming from Amazon. Fine. And yes, I know the shipping is free, but I mean, at what cost? Do...do people not know that Amazon is bad? Yeah, we all love things delivered quickly and cheaply, but they're a terrible company and engage in shitty business practices.

I guess I just can't possibly fathom what would have made this person think that after I'd just done all the work of coming up with a title of a book for her, I'd want to hear how about she's going to go buy it on freaking Amazon, a company that's been doing it's level best to drive us and bookstores like us out of business for over twenty years. That's like...it's like...it's like this actually:

"Hmm...you know what? Just scratch the whole order. I'm going to go home and order
Chipotle from Uber Eats. It might give me E. coli, but they'll bring it right to my house so."

-Not my best analogy

Is it though? Shocking and insane?

He knows what "shocking and insane" mean, right? George Santos, I mean. I ask because that's what he called reports that he stole money raised through a GoFundMe campaign. 

"Yeah, that tracks..."

-literally everyone

Pictured: Santos, flashing a white
power symbol. because of course he is.

Wait? What do you mean, that tracks? I mean, it does, it absolutely does, but I haven't even gotten to the best, worst part: the GoFundMe campaign was for a dog. A veteran's dog. Who had cancer. The dog, that is, not the veteran. Oh, and the dog died. I mean, holy shit, only a monster would even be capable of thinking about pulling such an Omega-Level dick move. A stone cold sociopath. Not the kind of person you elect to the House of Representatives much less give two committee seats to. Except he is, and they did and did I mentioned the dog died?

And why not lie? It's not like anyone 
could possibly verify his claims.

As if being a member of the Republican Party in 2023 isn't enough to cement ones status as an absolute, rabid foam nutter, Santos has: lied about having a college degree, lied about his employment history, lied about being Jewish, lied about his mother dying in the 9/11 attacks, lied about having lost employees to the Pulse nightclub shooting, is wanted for check fraud in Brazil, and lied about being endorsed by Trump in 2020 and then contested his and Trump's election losses in that year.

What? I don't know, it's just an example.
Why would someone lie about raising money
to save a dog? I'm not the one on trial here.

So when a veteran called Rich Osthoff said that Santos offered to help them raise funds to save his dog, and then when the time came to hand over the three thousand dollars raised, gave a bunch of nonsense excuses and ultimately kept the money for himself, we believe him. Osthoff that is. Because at this point there is nothing George Santos can say, not the color of the sky or the melting point of water, that anyone, anywhere, would, at the very least, take with an enormous quantity of salt. Because that's how reputations work. 

Above: Santos, earlier today.

Santos, in a now deleted tweeted that 

"[t]he report that I would let a dog die is shocking and insane...my work in animal advocacy was the labor of love and hard work." 

-Representative George Santos

That's evidently a reference to a charitable organization he claims to have founded called, imaginatively, Friends of Pets. 

Which doesn't exist. Because of course it doesn't exist. He referenced a fraud to back up his defense of himself against accusations of lying, so either he's either elevated self-delusion to an art form, or thinks we're all dumb. 

Pictured: George Santos and Matt Gaetz taking the oath of office
which I'm sure they both took seriously. Like, super-seriously.

Swiss Laser Lightning Shield!

You may have noticed that the future--that is the future of the past, so now--has been somewhat disappointing. We love to harp on how we were promised hoverboards and robots, and instead we have Segways without handles and glorified vacuum cleaners. It's a tired sentiment, but a fair one.

These things don't hover and describing them boards is generous at best.

Above: Ron DeSantis bloviating
about some nonsense.

And those are just material examples of the twenty-first centuries utter failure as the world of tomorrow. Sociologically speaking, we shouldn't have to still be arguing over whether or not it's ok to ban Nazis from social media or explaining to goons why it's none of their business what bathroom people use. All in all, the past couple of decades have been a tailspin of a debacle of a shit show. So I'm going to take the wins where I can get them and controlling lightning with lasers is a win.

Yeah, you heard me, controlling lightning. With lasers. And get this it's science. The kind of science you might see air-brushed on the side of a van in the 70's.

Pictured: science, evidently.

Finally, idiots will be able to golf
in the middle of a storm.

Researchers working on a mountaintop in Switzerland have successfully diverted lightning strikes by firing lasers at clouds. If I'm understanding this--and I'm not--the laser beams, thanks to a principle called filament propagation can, when shot into a cloud, causes the bolt to follow the direction of the beams filament (again, I have no idea how this works) rather than just striking the ground all willy-nilly. And while the how is making my ears bleed, the what is that this discovery could actually protect people from being struck by lightning.

Benjamin Franklin: America's
horniest renaissance man.

Which, I mean, big deal, right? Like, getting struck by lightning is a phrase used to describe something incredibly unlikely. But lightning does pose a risk to aircraft in flight and can start wild fires, so maybe don't dismiss this Swiss Laser Lighting Shield out of hand, ok? Of course, the obvious question here is why go through all the trouble of using expensive lasers when a Franklin Rod--that's a lightning rod invented by Benjamin Franklin who also, incidentally, discovered lightning. Huh...that sounds a little suspicious now that I say it out loud.

Anyway, it's true that lightning rods have been getting the job done for over two centuries, this approach does more than just attract lightning, it induces it. It doesn't wait for lighting to strike, but tells it when and where. Awesome is the word I think you're looking for. And if reaching into the sky and ripping lighting from the very clenched fist of Zeus himself isn't a win for the twenty-first century, I don't know what is.

"Is that so? Well, we're just asking for a smiting, aren't we?"

-The Greek Pantheon's horniest lightning god

Today in jobs that are not real jobs:

If you see it and don't like it, you
have no one to blame but these guys.

So I just wanted Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery and--yes, I agree the title is dumb. Not just because it assumes that audiences can't draw a line between two movies starting Daniel Craig as a detective with the same name without some lame subtitle. It's inappropriate as well, since the movie's story is, beyond Craig's character, unrelated to Knives Out. Oh, and to be clear I don't review movies, that's not what this is. I don't want to hear about it if you watch it and don't like it.

Idle rich, debonair, and often
a high functioning alcoholic.

Where were we? Right, Glass Onion. I liked it. Knives Out was better, but whatever, it was good. Watch it, don't watch it. You do you. Anyway, in the movie--and don't worry, I'm not spoiling anything here--Daniel Craig's character, Benoit Blanc, is referred to by both himself and others as "the world's greatest detective." As though that's just a thing someone can be: A rich, debonair socialite who just solves crimes in their ample free time. Like it's a job or something, and the question occurred to me: is it? A job that is. And for a brief moment I thought: sure, it's got to be, right? 

Pictured: the tedious, thankless
reality of detective work.

Sure, police detectives are a thing and I suspect the reality of the profession is way less exciting than say, Law and Order or those weird Scandinavian crime shows would have us believe. Private detectives exist as well, although it's a profession that conjures a certain image. Right? Like that of a slovenly, middle aged man chain smoking in 1988 Cutlass Supreme whilst taking photos of someone's cheating spouse with a telescopic lens. But either way, solving crime is almost certainly 99% paperwork and research and 0% inviting suspects into the parlor to dramatically reveal who the real killer is.

"J'accuse!"

-like, no one ever

The consulting detective who, as a hobby, unravels elaborate murders perpetrated by criminal masterminds on a weekly basis is nonsense. And I suppose if you were to have asked me before this realization if there was such a profession, I would genuinely have had to think about it for a minute. We're all so soaked in crime fiction, the idea of detective as job description (at least in the way it's portrayed on TV or in movies) seems totally normal, you know until you scrutinize it in any way. 

And look, this is in no way a criticism of Glass Onion, or detective stories in general, but it's objectively weird that we all just kind of accept these characters without question. Also, it's kind of disappointing that they don't really exist.

On the other hand, the sheer number of murders needed to keep a single
consulting detective busy, much less enough to warrant an entire profession
would leave the world dangerously underpopulated so, maybe it's for the best?

America's Most Punchable Face

I am 100% not advocating violence. Not on the House floor and not even towards the worst people who work there. Nor am I suggesting that Alabama Representative Mike Rodgers is anything but a homophobic, anti-choice, racist shit heel. The guy even wants us to withdraw from the U.N. He's a loon. That said, I kind of know how he feels:

That's Representative Richard Hudson holding Mike Rodgers
back from clocking Florida Republican Matt Gaetz.

It's getting harder to keep track of
them all, just look for the rabid foam.

And look, again, I'm not defending Rodgers. At all. But in his defense--yes, I know what I just said--but in his defense, Matt Gaetz of Florida, one of the more barking mad lunatics the party has to offer, had just for the fourteenth time voted against Kevin McCarthy for Speaker of the House. Which, I mean, that is his right and whatever, that's how democracy works, but Gaetz was only doing this in order to extort committee seats and who knows what else. Also, he sucks. He's just one of the worst.

And also also, is it me of does Matt Gaetz have America's most punchable faces?

I mean, look at him. Punchable, right?

The House of Representatives really
could have used an Olenna Tyroll this week

Like, you know I'm not a terribly religious person, and I realize that what I'm about to suggest is possibly pretty offensive to those who are, but if Jesus Christ himself were to return in our lifetimes just so he could punch Matt Gaetz in the face, I'd believe it. And to be clear, lots of people have a punchable face but are decent human beings. Take Jack Gleeson from Game of Thrones. Punchable face, but you never would because he's probably a perfectly pleasant in real life.

Above: the law and order party, seen
here not experiencing consequences.

And besides, what kind of jerk goes around punch people? Again, I'm not advocating punching anyone. Although one might reasonably ask what kind of people interpret a narrow majority achieved only through naked gerrymandering as some kind of mandate from the people to investigate their political enemies, to pass transphobic and racist legislation, and to do their level best to obstruct the agenda of a President most of us voted against. Oh, and by the way, shouldn't some of these Representatives be in jail what with the whole insurrection thing?

Where was I? Right. The take away here is don't go punching people. Not even Matt Gaetz, even though he has both the punchable face and punchable personality/worldview that would make punching so richly satisfying. In fact, I propose we begin a tradition in the mode of Britain's Guy Fawkes Day where we all make effigies of Matt Gaetz and punch them in the face every January 6th.

No, I'm serious, let's make this a thing.

Today in deserving every penny:

"What are you talking about? Everything is
black or white, the Constitution is immutable
and the Earth is 6,000 years old."

-Republicans

Can you believe actors Olivia Hussey and Leonard Whiting are suing over a nude scene from a movie they did back in 1968? Well, they are, and they're asking for five hundred million--yes, with an M, but five hundred million is still a lot--dollars. That's for emotional distress and lost work. What a couple of whiners. It's the Nirvana baby all over again. And after fifty-five years no less? Ridiculous, right? Well, ok, at first blush maybe it is. But life is full of nuance there's always more than one blush. Unless of course you live in a myopic, limited world of simple binaries and lack the capacity for self-evaluation.

"No, it was weird, we just got away with
things back then. Bear baiting for example."

-some playwright 

Anyway, the movie in question is Romeo and Juliet and Hussey and Whiting had a post-coital nude scene in it. And ok, it's a famously romantic show...kinda. People think of it as romantic, but it's technically a tragedy. The characters do nothing but make terrible decisions that end in catastrophe. But it's also weird because the leads are like fourteen years old. Which in the 1590's was slightly less weird I guess? And no one would ever cast actual minors in the roles, much less insist they perform a nude scene. Right?

"Artistic reasons...or whatever."

-Franco Zeffirelli

Except Franco Zeffirelii who definitely cast 14 year old Hussey and 15 year old Whiting in his film adaptation and insisted they perform a nude scene. And look, the issue isn't the nudity, it's the underaged-ness of the actors and oh yeah, how lied to they were. By Zeffirelli. Aye, there's the rub. According to the lawsuit, Zeffirelli told them they wouldn't be nude when they signed on, but on the day insisted they shoot the scene nude. For reasons. Reasons that are about to get even grosser.

Any time or place, or if you're Baz
Luhrmann, every place and time.

The play doesn't call for the characters to be nude. Or in the 1500's for that matter. Shakespeare is super flexible in this way. The director can set the action in any time or place, so dressing Hussey and Whiting up in Ren Faire gear and them asking them to take it off was 100% a creative choice. And nobody's saying the characters can't be nude in the morning after scene, but I think we can all can kind of agree that they can't be when minors are playing them. And that it's never ok to lie to and then pressure them.  

And it's really, really not ok that Zeffirelli later admitted that he had a crush on Hussey while this was going on. A crush he--a grown-ass forty six year old adult--had on a fourteen year old child he was in a position of power over. So yeah, five hundred million might sound a little excessive as everyone who could be held directly responsible are probably dead--definitely dead in the case of Zeffirelli--but yeah, here's hoping they get every penny. 

Every goddamn penny.

A goldfish swimming in misplaced vitriol...

Look, I don't want to be a jerk but--well that's not true, I do kind of want to be a jerk here. Venting is healthy, right? Anyway, my point is PG&E has one job. Well two, the G and E, but basically they're tasked with the very simple duty of keeping us living in the twenty-first century. Or even the twentieth. I'd take twentieth at this point. But I'm closing in on twenty-four hours sans electricity and the power company's response is basically "sucks to be you."

Oh, and my unfocused rage is directed at PG&E management and
not the people out there trying to restore electricity. I want to be very
clear on this point in case on of them actually reads this. 

Above: the time of restoration.

Ok, I'm paraphrasing, the response is that the estimated time of restoration is "To Be Announced." Which is the opposite of helpful. In fact, a deafening silence might almost be preferable. At least that might elicit some sympathy for the people trying to get the power grid back up. "Oh no! Is everyone ok?" or "Wow, they're so busy trying to fix things, nobody's around to update the website." "To Be Announced" just feels like "sorry, we'll let you know." I'd even take a "Tough shit, enjoy the dark ages." Anything but vague promises of updates.

Well, at least Elon can enjoy a brief respite
from being the most hatted thing on Twitter.

The company's Twitter feed is full of seething rage from customers who, like me, have plenty of helpful vitriol to spray in PG&E's general direction. And each rant is met with some variation on "We're sorry to hear you've been with out power. Please visit pge.com/outages for updates." Which is fine, I get that they're only human and that they're trying. But give us something. Lie to me. "To Be Announced" isn't helpful. At all.

It could mean anything and it's explicitly not an estimated time, which is all I'm asking for. Well, that and for the goddamn power to stay on when it rains. I mean, will it be hours? Days? Months? Should I buy a butter churn and stock up on whale oil? 

Above: my weekend.

Basically I'm the goldfish and access
to electricity is the bowl and water. 
It's not great, but there it is.

And again, I know how I sound. Like a week, whiny, man-child who's just upset because he has to charge his Switch at work. Shouldn't I be able to survive without electricity for a few days? Like the pioneers did. Or really everyone before the 1900's or whenever electricity started to be a thing in homes. And sure, I have a roof over my head which is more than many people can say, so why don't I just suck it up? It's a fair question, just not one I'm really feeling like answering honestly while the contents of my fridge are rapidly spoiling. 

A better world through wealth-shaming!

Alright 2023, wow me. I mean it. 2022 wasn't quite the trash fire it could have been, but it still wasn't, you know, great. 

When this is your bar, things aren't exactly optimal.

From now on, I propose we, as a
nation, just ride the tea cups.

Like, I spent most of the year dreading the outcome of the election. It was like an anxiety-filled roller coaster of--wait, sorry, that's a terrible metaphor. Roller coasters are predicated on nervous anticipation, but my point is that it was almost as bad as waiting to see how 2020 would turn out. And we're not supposed to have to care about mid-terms. No elections, and especially not mid-term elections, should carry with them the threat of fascist take over. Yes, we dodged a huge bullet--which I realize is another unfortunate metaphor in America--but seriously, good riddance to 2022. 

"I proclaim this night to be taco night."

-the master of one's own destiny

And that brings us to 2023. Well, a combination of an officious sixteenth century Pope and the Earth's orbit around an indifferent G-type yellow dwarf brings us to 2023. So now what? Is the future what we make it? I mean, sure it is. Technically anyway, although most of us are relatively powerless with our decisions limited to what to make for dinner or what to watch on Hulu or whatever. Neither you nor I are really in a position to say, end the war in Ukraine or restore reproductive rights. But we do have the power to catch up on What We Do In Shadows.

"Sure, I could fight climate change, but
how would rich people get to space?"

-Some rich guy

Which is...well it's bleak I suppose. There certainly are people in a position to single-handedly make real, appreciable change in the world, usually through their influence or vast wealth, something most of us lack. But the problem is that those who can make a difference don't always feel like it. And I kind of get it. If one uses one's enormous fortune to house people or plant millions of trees, said fortune becomes considerably less enormous, which I understand to be the opposite of how capitalism works. So I guess that's a non-starter.

"What? I murder a few chimps and let Nazis
back on twitter and suddenly I'm the bad guy?"

-Some other rich guy

The good news is that Elon Musk's recent, ill-advised, and desperate plea for approval--that is, putting his job as Twitter CEO up for a show of hands--has shown us that the toxically wealthy and powerful are driven, at least in part, by ego. I appreciate the vague gesture towards "letting the people choose," but I kind of feel like not hoarding such a significant portion of the world's wealth would be a better way to empower the masses, but the key take away here is that the public blowback against him and his willingness to give terrible people a platform had an impact. In theory. I mean, he hasn't stepped down yet, but I mean, one step at a time.

So perhaps there's some hope here. Hope that in the future we might somehow be able to harness the power of social media to shame multi billionaires into doing the right thing. And if that doesn't work, we can always revolt like the peasants we're fast becoming. 

Pictured: all of us outside Elon Musk's house in say, five years?