Rollin' Like Sisyphus

Good Music Friday

Posted in Good Music Friday, Uncategorized by Huckleberry on February 19, 2016

This week thinks it got the better of me, it really does, but look who survived it, and look who gets relegated to the dustbin of history, never to be remembered again.
That’s right, it may have hit me like a freight train on the juice, but it’s gone and I persevere.
GODDAMMIT.
I don’t even know where we’re at in terms of the END OF THINGS anymore, other than things are moving far too quickly to make any meaningful sense of it. The global economy crumbles as the ground beneath it gives way, the social mood continues to pull all comers between the narrowing poles of FUCK YOU and GO TO HELL, I’m about 90% convinced that a Supreme Court justice got whacked to protect illegals and a carbon-credit tax scheme, and I’m all out of drink, inexplicably, which just goes to illustrate how quickly these things can get away from you.
The drink, at least, I can fix.
For now.
I notice all the belabored stories this week about the end of CLINTON II, based on dwindling poll numbers and growing issues of distrust and unlikability. The gnashing from haggard feminist teeth about this has been most enjoyable, but be warned – this has psy ops battle prep written all over it. It’s the expectations game – make it seem like the haggard criminal is going to lose, then her squeak-by win appears much more impressive than it will be. And make no doubt about it, she’ll “win” even if she loses. The superdelegates will continue to flock on the promise of immediate clout in return for future favors, while she’ll have enough juice at play to rig the thing in her favor as much as possible. After that, it’s South Carolina and a host of states that still look good-to-sort-of-okay, and she’ll keep on keepin’ on. The only thing that can stop her is a federal indictment, and honest to God, I don’t think that would even cause her to withdraw – she’ll have to be hauled off in leg irons. And I think the only way an indictment gets handed down is if she keeps tumbling along the bottom of the barrel.
So let’s all hope for that.
When you have a monetary and economic system built on lies and crossed fingers, it’s inevitable that there will come with that a host of overwrought scholarship and formulae that attempt to explain the phony bologna (IT RHYMES WHEN YOU SAY IT OUT LOUD) to the hoi polloi, but none of it is worth the paper it’s written on. Literally. It devalues the paper as soon as it’s printed. We’ll call that Krugman’s Folly. In reality, the only economic concepts needed to navigate the world, and even the economy, are supply, demand, marginal utility, opportunity cost, and time over interest.
Everything else is the academic masturbation of simpletons, which we can refer to going forward as Krugman’s Delight.
As for the MAKING EVERYTHING GREAT AGAIN, I continue to note that the opportunity for that came and went a long time ago. There isn’t one single thing, or one set of 10,000 things that could solve our problems and MAKE IT ALL GREAT AGAIN. Inertia has to be exhausted. Institutions must crumble. Influence must wane.
It all has to go away before anything will ever be great again.
On that note, I’m out to find some good stuff. Whisky’ll do, but I may grab me some mezcal, because few things go down better when it’s unseasonably hot and dry. May also look at the rum because that’s fun in the summertime as well.
Don’t you worry about me, I’ll find what I’m looking for one way or another.
Para todo mal, mezcal, y para todo bien, también.

SONG SELECTION

How The West Was Won
Live Performance
The White Buffalo
CMT’s Dakota Sessions | October 2012

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One Response

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  1. El Borak said, on February 19, 2016 at 17:31

    The lovely bride hit a sale this week and ordered 5 cases of vino from a plethora of nations, strains, and appelacions controllee. So we’re set on that front for a while. The downside is that I’d prefer any rum* on any given night. And this is a given night, all things being equal.**

    * But Kraken.
    ** You saw what I did there.


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