Disgusting People
Apparently, Bette Midler caused something of a stir when in having a snit about Sen. Joe Manchin’s refusal to go along with the BBB lunacy, she said bad things about the people of West Virginia:
Left-wing Hollywood star Bette Midler has insulted the people of West Virginia, describing them as “poor, illiterate and strung out”
The response was immediate, and wonderful:
[snigger]
“Recently I spent a couple of days in Dubai-on-Thames, formerly known as London”
…you just know you’re in for a rant of the kind you will often see on this back porch, only with (far) fewer Bad Words. And indeed, Theodore has still more gems, like:
“That anyone capable of uttering such drivel should be appointed (with the prime minister’s approval!) to a position of such importance demonstrates that the country has long since passed the point of no return as far as its decay is concerned.”
…and my personal favorite (about another writer):
“In a sensible world, the writer of this would be charged with crimes against the English language and forbidden from ever writing again.”
Under the reign of World-Emperor Kim, such charges would be accompanied by public floggings, but let’s not get distracted here.
Also:
“On and on goes this saccharine semi-prayer that made me want to throw a brick through the window.”
Or put a .45 bullet into the miscreant writer, but that punishment would be reserved for the editors of various newspapers (you can guess their names).
Anyway, go ahead and read the whole article, because I’ve only touched on the vitriol.
The title of this post reverts to the original spelling of the word, i.e. something that inspires awe, and is being used sarcastically.
Whenever I’m stuck to describe how I feel about something, I almost always resort to the classics, because every situation in modern times has occurred, sometimes often, in the past, and we’re just experiencing reruns.
I had to go to WalMart for an emergency purchase — they don’t sell gin, but they do sell tonic — and as I saw the usual tragic shoppers pawing through the worthless clothing, fall-apart utensils and cheap furniture, my mind wandered off to the tragedy of the current “pipeline” issues which are making people fearful that they won’t get the plastic toys for their kiddies in time for Xmas (not Christmas), or which are forcing people to wait an extra week for their must-have cheap kitchen appliances (avg lifetime: months, not years), and it stirred within my memory this immortal poem, written in 1902:
Cargoes
by John Masefield
Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir,
Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine,
With a cargo of ivory,
And apes and peacocks,
Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine.
Stately Spanish galleon coming from the Isthmus,
Dipping through the Tropics by the palm-green shores,
With a cargo of diamonds,
Emeralds, amythysts,
Topazes, and cinnamon, and gold moidores.
Dirty British coaster with a salt-caked smoke stack,
Butting through the Channel in the mad March days,
With a cargo of Tyne coal,
Road-rails, pig-lead,
Firewood, iron-ware, and cheap tin trays.
Substitute “rusty Chinese container ship” for the dirty British coaster, and you have the modern take on the earlier perspective, in a nutshell.
Then I heard on the radio some guy moaning about the fact that his car’s “management” chip had recently failed, thus rendering his Mercedes into an immobile, upholstered metal/plastic cube, and I thought longingly back to the days when a car’s management system was its driver, not some multi-pronged Chinese piece of silicon.
I fucking hate the modern world.
I think I’ll take the Mauser for a trip to the gun range. No batteries to fail, no chips to malfunction, its technology tried and tested for over a hundred years. Only its old and imperfect management system can screw things up. And I prefer it that way.
Denver Attorney Files Civil Action In Kyle Rittenhouse Shooting
“Whether that’s the type of society we want where white nationalists show up to protest Black Lives Matter movements or movements for racial justice with AR-15s.”
Now the civil lawsuits will proceed.
“It’s going to raise questions if self-appointed militias can roam the streets doling out justice as they see.”
If I didn’t want to go Full Rittenhouse before, I sure as hell am tempted now.
We all know about the foul Clintons and their insatiable greed for money (e.g. the Clinton “Foundation” a.k.a. the Clinton ATM), coupled with their need to get “donations” from just about every evil source on the planet so as to subsidize their jet-set lifestyle.
Here’s the Brit version, in the shape of Prince Andrew, Duke of York:
Thames Valley Police have refused to comment on who is paying for the security they provide to Prince Andrew, at an estimated cost of £500,000 per year. It is said that one of the duke’s principal problems is that he and the duchess desire a lifestyle that is beyond their means. Well, yes. And me. I desire that, too. The Duke of York, however, refuses to rub along on an official income of £250,000 p.a. tax free from his mother, the Q.E.II, plus his naval pension of £20,000 p.a. accrued from his 22 years of naval service from 1979 to 2001. Tom Bower, royal biographer, said: “(The Duke and Duchess of York) have an appetite for luxury which is beyond the understanding of mere mortals. There’s a sense of entitlement in it all, that is the real problem. They think nothing is too much for them.” In 2020 Andrew bought a £220,000 Bentley to add to his two Range Rovers. He also has a collection of luxury watches, including several Rolexes and Cartiers and a £150,000 Patek Philippe.
His home life is not simple.
He and the Duchess live at Royal Lodge, a 30-room cottage set in nearly 100 acres of Windsor Great Park in Berkshire, owned by the Crown Estate, to which the duke pays a notional rent, but bearing the costs himself of upkeep and staffing which are estimated to be up to £1 million a year.
He also has a little place in Verbier, a Swiss ski resort, which he bought for £16.6 million, but failed to pay the final installment, of £6.6 million, for which he is being sued.
Norman Baker, a former government minister who has written a book about royal finances, believes that the duke’s extravagance has forced him into trying to supplement his income by building business relationships with a list of dubious associates. He said: “Andrew has had a succession of benefactors, deeply unpleasant people mostly, who want to be associated with someone from the royal family and he’s been prepared to be associated with them in return for money. He once took a diamond necklace worth £18,000 as a gift from a convicted Libyan gunrunner. These are the sort of people he’s dealing with.”
Most notably, of course, the paedophile and sex trafficker, financier Jeffrey Epstein. (Which leads us back to Bill Clinton, Liar Extraordinaire — Kim.)
The Times has revealed that from 2015 the duke was borrowing an average of £125,000 every three months from a credit facility offered by Banque Havilland, an institution owned by the Rowland family. The duke made a final withdrawal of £250,000 in November 2017, then 11 days later the whole debt was cleared by David Rowland. Buckingham Palace conduct rules state that members of the Royal Family should never accept gifts of money, or money equivalent in connection with an official engagement or duty. Time his finances are investigated, at the very least by HMRC – oops – that’s Her Majesty’s Revenue and Customs Service. His mum. Oh, well.
Tom Bower described the duke’s business activities as “shameless”. He said: “He is a man of unbelievable bad judgment and remarkable greed. And with each step his past catches up with him.”
Horrible fucking bastard.
No wonder the DoY is such a good friend of Bill Clinton: their common predilection for sucking cash out of whoever wants to party with them is perfectly congruent. As is their common predilection for young pudenda.
Just my opinion, of course; I could be wrong.
Here’s a rant after my own heart:
I was puzzled, so I checked the website and got nowhere. The password I’d used for the account was suddenly not accepted.
So I phoned the number on the website. And got nowhere. This time the problem seemed to be my PIN.
Or maybe my account number. Or maybe my customer ID. Or my PCN number. Whatever that was. The recorded message didn’t really care. I gave up.
I had become the innocent victim of the new digital age in which the algorithm reigns supreme.
There was a time when a human being with a problem talked to another human being who helped to get it sorted. Those days are gone.
The lives of big companies and government officials are made so much easier if we customers or clients can be kept at arm’s length.
The online experience is bad enough — but when you dare to call the “Customer Care” (ha!) telephone number, that’s really when the SHTF.
A combination of the two above means that I will be changing my Medicare supplemental insurer, because it seems to be the only way I can punish these assholes for their bovine indifference to my situation.
I’ll let Humphrys finish this rant:
Increasingly, we are being deprived of even a semblance of what we once thought of as customer service.
We are left talking to a computer screen behind which sits not another human being, but an algorithm. Or a recorded telephone announcement that may or may not respond to our pleas for help.
It’s as though any human compassion in the relationship between customer and provider has simply disappeared. And that’s very sad.
Or enraging. Ten guesses which side I’m on.