Mark as Unread

I hate to phrase it this way, but majority of us have sucked corporate cock just to put food on the table. I mean this figuratively, of course, in the way that we are viewed as mere TOOLS (pun intended) who reluctantly latch on to the capitalist system's shlong and subsist on watery precum just to survive while the multimillionaires and billionaires fatten themselves with rich and creamy Grade-A cultured whole buttermilk (our own jizz, the sweat of our brows, when you think about it -- oh the irony!). (Of course others [male or female] have unfortunately had to LITERALLY suck corporate dick to survive, but who am I to judge?) What I have a HARD time (again, pun intended) not judging is figuratively (or literally) sucking a corrupt politician's cock. Surely there are other less-degrading ways to earn a living? Some people will say (most probably those who work for politicians), "You pimp yourself to capitalists, anyway. What's the fucking difference?" Well, the fuc...

  I just heard the stupidest thing the other day, that people don't have time to read novels anymore, relying instead on "book summaries" sold on Amazon, with such titles as "50 Books You Don't Have Time to Read, Briefly Summarized." And we all know that people don't have time to write anymore (and when I say WRITE I mean write from SCRATCH, which actually requires you to USE your brain), relying instead on ChatGPT, Gemini, or Copilot to "produce" "content" for them. People don't have time to philosophize about life, they don't have time to study history (and so, naturally, they are doomed to repeat the same mistakes), they don't have time to learn a new language, they think that making art and literature and music is useless. They don't care that teachers who actually teach you how to think are going to lose their jobs. They don't realize that everyone is going to lose their jobs anyway because of artificial intel...

Is it a Virgo thing, this penchant for thinking about things you've lost over the years? For instance, I suddenly remembered this blue American Eagle polo shirt that an uncle gave me several years ago, which I can't find in my closet anymore. It's not even one of my favorite shirts; I didn't like the size and the cut particularly, especially in the tummy area, because it made me look fat. I was lying on the couch the other day, taking a nap, when in that zone between wakefulness and sleep I was suddenly jolted awake by the realization that I haven't seen the shirt in a while. And so instead of trying to go back to my nap I cut it short and headed to my room -- and my closet, of course -- to try to find the shirt. Of course I didn't find it. There seems to be a Twilight Zone dimension where lost objects from all over the world just find themselves teleported to, never to be seen again by their original owners. And for majority of those owners, unless it's a b...