6,036 words

Corona Virus, the Aftermath

Watching the situation in China and the unrest caused by the government's ineptitude, I was hoping that people in China would finally wake up to the oppression and fight for a better system that works for the people, but today I was thinking about our own government's response and the inequality here and that we need to finally wake up to the oppression of a system that only works for billionaires and fight for a better system that works for the rest of us.

Baby Boomers

Baby Boomers killed irony.
Baby Boomers are the generation that was born after WWII and benefited the most from the economic boom that blessed the U.S. after the end of the war. Baby Boomers lived through the most prosperous time in the history of mankind. And who benefited the most? White males.
And now, white, old males are back to tell you that all you need to prosper is to work harder. The. Fucking. Nerve.
Who killed irony? Boomers did.


Tememos despertar a la pesadilla, al terrible
así que nos mantenemos callados
a lo mucho solo nos atravemos
a repetir la palabra que no ha despertado al malvado
y así nuestro lenguage es formado a la sombra del miedo
cuando uno de nosotros se atreve a formular un nuevo vocablo
uno que no despierta al diablo
lo felicitamos, nos felicitamos
somos buenos


The logic from some white people is this:

  • Trump fears Bloomberg, therefore Bloomberg can defeat Trump. Which does not even make sense, but let's move on
  • Defeating Trump is all that matters, therefore we all must support Bloomberg and not look at his flaws, which include racist views, which are not actually racist white people tell us. Well, thank you for whitesplaining it to us.

In fact, Bloomberg's best service to this country will be to split the centrist Democratic vote and help us elect a truly progressive candidate.


Nos da miedo que creemos una inteligencia tan cabrona que nos vaya a dejar pendejos.
Pero pues pendejos ya estamos, no?


Once in a while Death points her finger to someone close to you
I don't mean someone you love
I mean someone who reminds you that you'll never know when it's your turn until it's your turn
Water your plants
Straighten your tie
And smile

May God grant you

To live long enough to get tired of your

No me quiero morir como un maldito cobarde

Quiero al menos poder decir que lo intenté.

Statistics Are For Machines and Idiots

You think you're smart knowing that the statistics say that having a gun in one's house poses a higher risk for one's family than potential intruders. And you may be, but you're really stupid if you think you're going to convince anyone not to have a gun in their home with that tidbit of information. We all think statistics don't apply to us (and to tell you the truth they don't, but that may be stuff for another post). The smoker, the gambler, the guy who religiously buys a lotto ticket every week. Even you, but you haven't even notice. We all think we're better than the average, so find another argument.

Depression is a bitch

and so is resistance
come on guys we can do this

"with the flick of an eye you finally see the light"
and once you see the light be all over it and don't let go
depresh will come back, but the further you get while on the light, the easier it'll be to climb back
i believe in you

YouTube Is Out to Get Me

YouTube wants to kill me, so does my neighbor, the garbage truck's driver,
porn, the Microsoft corporation,
I just got two blue screens of death in the last week, you motherfuckers
The seasons, particularly winter and its bullshit: cold, snow, ice, chapped lips, the furnace
My employer, the government,
Too much and too little
Up and down
My bed is too cozy
The whole internet is too interesting
I have ideas to write but everything's been written
Dead writers are out to kill me
I want to write, but YouTube is easier
I want to write, but instant reward is just
I want to write, instead I choose instant gratification
so convenient, so warm
and yet, so painful at the end of the day

My Neighbor Is Out to Get Me

He wants to kill me
Do I sound paranoid to you?
He's not cleaning the snow from the sidewalk in front of his house!
He's going to give me a heart attack
He does it so I don't stop thinking about
He does it so I don't write
He is Resistance
He is Neurosis
He lives inside my head

Capitalism and the Race to the Bottom

Is the minimum wage good or bad?

A few years ago Chipotle announced that it had partnered with the City of Denver to provide low-rent housing to its employees. Some people, who I suspect are not habituated to reflecting, cheered the move, even though 1) it was a clear admission that Chipotle does not pay a living wage to some of its employees, and 2) it had ensnared the city on a scheme to use tax-payer money to pony up for the difference.

Evidently, the minimum wage is not sufficient. The threat from employers, however, is that fewer workers will be employed if the minimum wage is raised. Employers will always go for the lower-cost alternative–be it AI, overseas workers, dumb machines, etc.–because they're optimizing for profit. This is a race to the bottom.

From minimum wages to the Glass-Steagall act, it's all patches for the unstoppable machine that threatens to keep degrading our way of living and our environment. Socialism is dead and capitalism is a blind killing machine. We need to imagine and implement a third alternative before the black hole swallows us.

Ando Perdido

Ando pinches perdido. Estoy escribiendo todos los días pero no estoy seguro de que esto vaya a algún lado. Supongo que yo lo voy a tener que dirigir hacia alguna dirección, pero no sé a dónde quiero ir. Mi meta en algún momento es escribir un artículo para una publicación. Pero ando muy pinche apático. Un día me siento chido, voy bien, llevo una dirección, estoy respetando mi arte, pero otros días me siento perdido. Estoy siguiendo el método de Julia Cameron, El Camino del Artista, y ella dice que no es un camino derecho y que habrá días en los que nos sentimos sin rumbo. Pues aquí estoy.

En vez de pensar que estaría bien en el futuro publicar un artículo, debo ponerme una fecha para publicar. Tengo un par de publicaciones en mente. Al menos mi meta debe ser mandar un artículo para la consideración de los editores. 

Necesito tener la lista de mis proyectos más importantes en mi cara para que me desvíe del camino. 

Tengo ideas y pienso que quiero estar en mi casa trabajando en mis proyectos y ahora que ya estoy aquí estoy distraído y los proyectos que parecían tan importantes no me lo parecen tanto.

Quiero estar solo y paso bastante tiempo solo y no pienso que me haga bien. Me siento como un adolescente y pienso que puede ser positivo si logro crecer a través de esta experiencia. 

Just Write

I'm taking the #100days challenge, trying to write one blog post at least once a day fof 100 days. Part of the goal is to make you write even when you don't want to, even when you don't have any ideas, or when you just want to go to bed after avoiding the blank page all day long. So, here I am, with nothing to say except that I have nothing to say. Mission accomplished. :)