All posts by jd67

Bread and Opinions

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Bread & Opinions: Similar in a Bad Way

Having just made a pile of bread crumbs from way too much bread stuck in the freezer I was thinking, pre-coffee I might add, that bread in all its myriad forms is quite similar to opinions we form as humans (and semi-humans like Putin and most of the MAGA crowd). It’s uncanny in a way how similar they are. Let me digress.

Fresh bread, untoasted of course, is a thing to behold. Depending on the quality of the ingredients, the skill of the baker and the recipe, you can mix  a pile of disparate ingredients into a dough, let it rise (or not, depending on the bread) and bake it hopefully to perfection for near-immediate consumption. (With maybe fresh butter if you’re not lactose intolerant, or if you indeed are lactose intolerant and don’t mind passing a ton of gas.)

Underbaked bread isn’t as bad as you think but be prepared for gaseous emissions from the  gluteal region.

Overbaked bread is usually worse, as the crust is either too thick or it tastes burnt. That’ll give you heartburn and I have enough of that already from looking at my credit card bill.

“Smart” Opinions

Opinions–good, bad, otherwise–are quite similar to bread in all its stages of existence. And underformed and underbaked opinions are no different. They’ll give you a stomach ache and useless worries, kind of like when your anxious, almost 84-year-old mother tells you you’ll get sick if you eat that! You usually eat it to spite her, but that’s another story for my many, many therapists and parole officers. But I digress again.

Take artificial intelligence as an example. People have formed all kinds of underbaked opinions on how it’s going to take over the world, make us redundant to the robots and set off a unintended nuclear war because billionaire douche bag Elon Musk said so.

Wrong.

A.I. is at its root a really good effort to predict a result or behaviour or action using energy-intensive servers and chips together with computing parameters to determine a likely outcome, based on whatever crappy, biased data it’s fed by the ‘data scientist’ (who doesn’t even wear a white lab coat! How can he/she/they/it be a so called ‘scientist’ without a lab coat and not being part of a shady ‘institute’? That’s my opinion of course, and it’s right.)

We don’t know what to make of A.I. yet as it’s still early days. ChatGPT and the rest of those generative A.I. bots are largely one-trick ponies that do nothing to tackle problems like drug discovery and modeling exceptionally complex structure. Not yet, at least.

Just take comfort in the fact that large, faceless, opaque, borderless, unruly, semi-lawful corporations and countries are at the A.I. helm with a deep profit motive or nefarious spying activities, and little government oversight or any regulation or forethought.  Like all problems, it’ll go away if we ignore it.

Mouldy Opinions

Like a bread, opinions can grow stale quickly, and if left in a dark, moist place, grow mouldy rather quickly. Those opinions, whether they contain non-GMO wheat harvested by virgins, healthy nuts, or even fancy-ass spring water from a depleted water table can turn green and thus smell up your garbage bin or worse, spread to other parts, thus requiring a severe clean with borax, thus using more water and cleaning products to pollute environment.

A good mouldy, stinky opinion is the rationale used by the founders of ‘Animaid Café’ a.k.a. ‘Hooters for incels‘.  (Thanks for sharing, Lars.) It’s perfectly fine to have young women dress up like servile, sexually objectified maids to entertain male clients with café foods. The world needs more of that as opposed to funding the NHS. Unsurprisingly, business is booming. Manchester males, you can be proud that you’re funding and perpetuating a place you think is ‘cute’ and ‘harmless’…

Anatomically Speaking

Opinions, however, should be more readily likened to a specific anatomical structure, namely, the ass hole. As stated by many hairy and sleep-deprived wisemen over the ages, opinions are like assholes. Everyone has one, some are smelly, some are not, some are hairy, some handle spicy foods better than others, and not too many people like discussing them in public unless they’re a specialist. (See any talk show on cable TV in the last 50 years.)

Opinions, unlike bread, are also like mouths, another orifice from which a lot of crap spews, albeit in less solid form than the aforementioned exit point. Yes, everyone has a mouth, unless it has been sewn shut by Chinese and Russian secret police, and much uninformed blather gets puts out in the universe (or metaverse if you can’t deal with reality, you coward).

Now, I’m not saying we should limit opinions to what I believe is fair, correct and acceptable. Who am I kidding? That’s exactly what I want. Me and a few of my closest friends and family. Get together once a week over fresh danish and coffee, maybe a nice plate of fruit and if they’re fresh –and not toasted — a dozen bagels.

Now I’m hungry. Well, that put a screeching halt to this rant. Thank goodness too.

Sincerely hungry,
Chef Jon

Who should be responsible for policing stupid opinions?

Environmental Jeans

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Environmental Jeans and Such

It took very little time for me to realize that 2023 will be just as big an environmental nightmare as 2022 was. As I peaked outside the window and saw the thick layer of freezing rain that had accumulated on my car and the stairs leading out of my place, I knew Mother Nature was giving me (and most likely the rest of the globe) the metaphorical finger for having peed in too may rivers and eaten too many petroleum-based foods. She’s not wrong.

So to liberate the vehicle from its ice tomb, I got out of my nightshirt (don’t judge me), donned t-shirt and sweatshirt and then slipped on my comfy jeans only to realize that there were many small tears and holes. It miffed me that these jeans I had purchased not more than 2 years ago were failing apart, likely due to either poor quality materials, cost-cutting and the slave labour being used to produce said garment probably hadn’t been fed in a week.

It’s no secret that the word ‘assholes’ was running through my brain when I saw the shoddy state of affairs for these comfy jeans. Was I incensed that it was most likely made in a sweat shop, or that the environmental degradation used to dye and ship these jeans was no doubt prolific? Of course not. I’m still feeling bad about the 2 boxes of Pop Tarts I ate last month knowing they took a good 6 months off my life span. I can only handle so much guilt.

Driven to Distraction

After working up quite the sweat removing the ice and shovelling the frozen snow surrounding my vehicle, I came back in the house and checked my phone for interesting emails and news (I know, ma. I’m addicted to my phone. You don’t have to remind me) before running some errands in my now warmed up, carbon-spewing car. It has heated seats. Why do I mention that? I believe the heat passed through my ‘hole-y’ jeans to my hairy buttocks unimpeded by thick, high quality jeans material. Maybe I will keep these jeans a while longer…

After driving about, toasted buns and all, I got home, had a chocolate danish of insanely gooey quality that I earned from shovelling and de-icing, and proceeded to draw the comic you hopefully read and most likely sneered at given its amateurish quality.

I rapidly forgot about the environmental issues previously mentioned, and focused more on the mental ones, like why the heck are humans devoting time, effort, resources and actual money to creating virtual human beings to sell to other people? For the metaverse? Are we so stupid as a society that we are expending brain matter on crap like this? That is mental.

[Note to readers: I am pretty sure I have offended many by using the term ‘mental’. Let me assure you, I meant as much harm as possible to any and every group. It’s my New Year’s resolution since 2022’s resolution to eat fewer Pop Tarts and pass wind less failed miserably. I’m focusing on more attainable goals.]

Misspent and Misdirected Energy

I think I now understand the purpose of this so called metaverse. It will be the only place left where I’ll be able to see a tree or a green field after we have destroyed the environment. They’ll probably charge me real money to touch a virtual leaf. Bastards.

Speaking of virtual stuff, I’m constantly amazed at the amount of useless crap and electronic gadgets humans misspend on developing these toys. Just look at CES this year. Before you castigate me for being a hypocrite, I am the first to admit that I’d burn down an orphanage if you took away my phone or iPad or computer.

That having been said, couldn’t we probably cure cancer and fix the environment if we spent even half our energies and money on those two issues instead of inventing the first hands-free connected home urine lab? You mean the other ones weren’t hands-free? Gross.

But I digress.

For 2023, let’s resolve to be better people, buy less crap, maybe take more walks and refrain from calling each other names, unless it’s well deserved.

Sincerely hairy,
L’il Jon Druker, Napper Extraordinaire

In 2023, I resolve to...

Disinformation or Misinformation – You Choose

Disinformation or Misinformation: You ChooseDisinformation or Misinformation: You ChooseDisinformation or Misinformation: You ChooseDisinformation or Misinformation: You ChooseDisinformation or Misinformation: You ChooseDisinformation or Misinformation: You ChooseDisinformation or Misinformation: You ChooseDisinformation or Misinformation: You Choose

Disinformation or Misinformation – You Choose

Recently scientists with nothing better to do than make stupid science jokes calculated that the earth hols approximately 20 quadrillion ants. That’s a lot of zeroes, fifteen to be exact, and a lot of critters. And some really bored scientists.  It’s also an interesting piece of information.

According to the article, for every human alive on the planet, there are roughly 2.5 million ants. When I read that nugget of info, I thought this must be some kind of misinformation created by the  cabal of chemical companies that sell pest control products like Raid or the Pop Tarts I so fondly consume like a junkie.

My next thought wandered and meandered for a bit before it settled on the war atrocities in Ukraine. Wouldn’t it be great if we could take maybe 100 million of those ants and smother them all over that psychopath Putin after having been dipped in dark molasses. It should would make for some great reality TV as well an Internet meme.

The Source of Mis- and Disinformation

After all, one cannot think of that war, and its absurd, cruel justification, without coming across the words misinformation and/or disinformation. Sure, you could use the word “lies” but that would mean I have to rewrite the title of this blog and it’s too late in the day for that.

Where and when did misinformation and disinformation start? Was it in the time of the cavemen? Sorry, cave people – I wouldn’t want to offend their powerful media lobby. There were certainly cave women, cave children and no doubt sexually ambiguous cave people. Then again with all that body hair and animal furs, how could you tell one  caveman apart from another? But I digress.

No one knows for sure where and when disinformation started. Some historians believe that disinformation started about 315,000 years ago in per-historic times when a Neanderthal named Unk in cave 36b told his mate Gwendolyn he spends his Sunday nights down by the river fishing and contemplating the meaning of life. In reality, he would double-back and go to cave 17 to play poker with the boys and watch strippers. Poor Neanderthals — always getting a bad rap — lots of misinformation about them out there.

What Information Is True?

Since we as media-consuming modern people no longer can tell if a story, an article, a news report or a Bugs Bunny cartoon is genuinely true, and not some made up story meant to confuse us while the Russians try to sell us expired borscht, how do we know what to believe? What information is actually true?

Here is my advice:

  • If someone with an eye patch and a limp named Manny says “here, eat this, it’s fresh”, be very careful.
  • If the story you’re reading online is authored by someone named Vladimir P. or Donald J. T., take heed.
  • If you’re financial advisor says “You’ll make a killing with crypto! Trust me” then run away and call the police.

That’s about all the wisdom I can spare.

Wishing you peace, joy and a year’ supply of fresh danish.

Utu the Powerful

What disinformation have you propagated recently?

The Abstruse Weed

Covid Weed Covid Weed Covid Weed Covid Weed Covid Weed Covid Weed Covid WeedWhat Is the Abstruse Weed

As we muddle our way through ever more protests and convoys of paranoid motorized morons, I decided to reflect on things that are shall we say, abstruse, which is a fancy way of saying difficult to understand. Why did I choose the word abstruse when I could have said it more simply?

To be brutally honest, I was thinking of eating some apple strudel, and somehow my brain came up up with ‘abstruse strudel’ because it sounded good in my head. And I had slept poorly. I couldn’t for the life of me remember what abstruse meant, so I looked it up and realized it has nothing to do with strudel. In fact strudel is not difficult to comprehend, apple or otherwise. Well, maybe cherry-peach strudel is a little difficult to comprehend. Terrible combo. Or dare I say, that would be an abstruse strudel riddle.

Have I Lost You Yet?

Clearly, the previous two paragraphs are the rantings of a lunatic. I should know. I wrote them.  Furthermore, what does this have to do with anything related to the title of this post, The Abstruse Weed? Oddly, it comes from a news article about experiments done to see how cannabis could affect or potentially inhibit Covid from replicating. Apparently it may work.

My mind raced at the thought of weed potentially being beneficial to the fight against a virus that has laid bare economies, societies and supply chains. Who would have ever come up with the idea of using weed to combat a virus?

Dopehead stoner students, that’s who.

Which is indirectly how I came up with the series of drawings for this episode of the comic, once referred to by Jacques Cousteau as ‘merde de poisson’. He was a harsh critic.

It dawned on me, as I was on a Mount Everest sugar high from eating too many industrial cookies that were on sale, that it is just this type of abstruse thinking that is at the heart of human creativity. I am also relatively sure weed may play a role in creative thinking, but in my humble and under-informed opinion it pales when compared to chocolate danish-fueled synapse-triggering creativity.

Totally Out There

So I decided to use the cross-pollination method of creative thinking to come up with some questions that humanity could ponder while waiting for the next government edict on the Covid situation or while waiting in traffic behind some trucker or Confederate flag-waiving bigot who has decided his rights to spreading bellicose stupidity outweighs your rights to fetch a bagel in peace and quiet.

Potential Ponderable #1

Why do we use the word ‘lady’ when referring to  a cleaning lady? Do you know any cleaning gentlemen? Is is it because a proper cleaning lady keeps her legs crossed while scrubbing your filthy floors and food encrusted counters, and  always with a smile and good humour? Would you call Lady Diana a cleaning lady? How about Lady Gaga? Or the Lady of the Lake? I didn’t think so. Conversely, I know of no cleaning men. Unless you count my brother-in-law who keeps a damn tidy house. But he’s not compensated adequately for his services. Bless his hairy soul.

Potential Ponderable #2

Recyclable ammunition. Why hasn’t anyone invented recyclable bullets? Such a waste. Talk about our disposable culture. One-time use of bullets and missiles is so passé! Reuse and recycle, I say. (We are not good as reducing our use of ammunition however. Witness the state of the world over the last 26 minutes and you’ll know what I mean.) At least make bullets and bombs biodegradable or recyclable. I bet you if there was a deposit on ammunition, let’s say  1$ on every bullet casing and $20 on every shell or bomb casing you bring back to the supermarket, you’d have a line-up out the door.

Potential Ponderable #3

If prostitution is the oldest profession as the saying goes, who does the accreditation exams? is there a Prostitute Academy in the Netherlands I am unaware of? Who judges if you’re qualified and have passed the exams? More importantly HOW do they determine if you’re a professional? Do you need a website? Are there amateur and professional prostitutes? Is there a minor league? Or relegation to a lower tier? If you’re not designated a professional, then isn’t it more like a pastime or a side hustle?

Now it’s time for a shower.

Sincerely,
King Panda Druker

If I had the power of invisibility, I would...

He’s Dead, Jim

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This is not a Start Trek-related rant. Although the person who inspired me for this instalment of the blog no one reads, or at least admits to reading, unless they are in a confessional or on death’s door, genuinely is a Trekkie. Let’s just call him Jim.

It is winter and the holiday season is here in full swing with conflicting messages from all manner of outlets – continued materialistic consumption ad nauseum vs Papal demands for humility and spending caps on gifts. And of course Omicron (who many people thought was a character on the Transformers TV series from when I was a kid). It’s a confusing time.

How this all relates to a dead spider is a bit of a long-winded tale that I should shorten for those with short attention spans, namely all literate earthlings with an internet connection and a pulse.

New Age Spider Tolerance

Where I live, it has been a dry winter, with little snow. Warmer than usual and ever the sounds of birds that usually migrate, hanging around asking for directions south and to the nearest bird feeder.

Stories of climate change, climate crises, climate-controlled chip factories and sexy climatologists have dominated much of the news this year (if you discount the January 6th attack on American democracy by small-brained lunatics).  Frequently, the message has been we need to do something about this before Mother Nature actually locks us out of the house.

In my bumbling, uninformed opinion, Mother Nature isn’t trying to tell us something. She’s already told us a thousand times to clean up our rooms and we ignored her. So now, like any parent who’s given up hope, she’s focusing on her life and taking time to go the spa and letting the house fall apart while she’s out drinking tequila slammers and having casual sex.

But I digress. (It’s my best skill.)

Countless studies and reports have shown us how we have irreparably disturbed animal habitats, while human-induced climate change  has forced animals of all species to move to where they can survive. Lobsters are migrating north. Sharks too. Beavers are now in the arctic. (Funny, no animals are moving south to Florida or Texas. They must fear for their lives given there’s no gun control.)  Even hairy, loathsome, fear-inducing spiders too are adversely affected by climate change.

Wishing or Squishing Your Enemies Dead

Yet most people I know want spiders dead. Not maimed, not incapacitated, not neutered, not even resettled — but dead. Even the kindest, sweetest people want them dead.

Famed humanitarian Albert Schweitzer was quoted as saying, “The purpose of human life is to serve, and to show compassion and the will to help others. Spiders, however, should be crushed mercilessly with an iron boot!” Likewise Mother Theresa was quoted as saying “I can do things you cannot, you can do things I cannot; together we can do great things. Like killing every last spider in this village with an iron boot!”

Even noted psychopathic expansionist and part-time flower shop owner Attila the Hun was quoted as saying “If I find one more damn spider in my yurt, so help me god, I will rampage across Asia and Europe and lay waste to the Romans too! Man, I wish had an iron boot.”

What happened to new age spider tolerance? What has the arachnid ever done to you to warrant death? They just want to eat bugs and freak you out when you run into their widely strewn webs. Is that so wrong?

Holiday Mirth and Death

If, during this time of holidays and short sunlit days in the northern hemisphere, you have a chance to ruminate, meditate, cogitate or pontificate on Nature and all forms of life, take pleasure in all those around you, human and animal. But if you need to crush a spider that lands on your table while you eat, don’t tell anyone I said it was ok.

Mirthfully manic,
Mundzuk Of the Huns Druker

Bad Choices Are Easy To Make

Bad Choices StewBad Choices StewBad Choices StewBad Choices StewBad Choices StewBad Choice StewBad Choice StewBad Choice StewBad Choice StewBad Choice StewBad Choices – I Have Made Many

Not long ago I read a report trying to explain the environmental impact based on the foods we buy. Yet another attempt to make me feel bad for the numerous poor choices I have made in my life time. The gist of the article made me think about how many trees I have indirectly deforested, rivers polluted, and CO2 emitted by choosing specific foods and not thinking about the consequences.

Given the number of burgers, sausages, industrial cookies and of course chocolate and cinnamon danish* I have consumed in my 5+ decades on this planet, one could roughly calculate that I personally have led to 3% of global forests being destroyed. Which is approximately the weight of 100,000 male African savanna elephants. Trust me.

Furthermore, by my rough, sleep-deprived calculations, I have emitted more tons of CO2 — and especially methane — than most central American countries have in the same period of time. Which I consider quite the accomplishment, however it doesn’t sound good on a job application nor does it make for a great conversation starter on blind dates. Trust me.

(*Note to reader: danish usually doesn’t have a plural form, it’s like water or beer or air – it’s an uncountable ethereal and tasty substance that defies logic, and supports rampant diabetes.)

Wired for Bad Choices

So many many of my bad choices to eat meats and danish, as opposed to locally grown leafy greens, are notionally based on the principle that we have free will. I chose to ingest delectable baked sugary delights that led either directly or indirectly to an oil well being drilled (what? you think petro-sugar comes from real sugar? who’s being naive now?) and I felt no guilt. Coincidentally, I also immediately felt a numbness in my left arm and a difficulty breathing for a bit, but I can’t imagine the two are related.

Was it a question of poor education or a lack of facts that led me to choose the clearly evil foodstuff? Is there a little devil over my shoulder cackling with evil laughter knowing that mother earth has descended that much closer to the abyss? Of course not. We are wired for bad choices.

Our human DNA and electrolyte-fuelled mushy gray matter lead us to seek out what we want, not always what we need. Look at poor Socrates – he wilfully drank a chalice of poison as opposed to being forced to eat a kale salad with dried cranberries and low-cal dressing, knowing the former would be far more pleasurable than the inevitable bloating and gas he would get from the meal of greens.  Granted, drinking poison impacted his dating life and earning potential, but frankly, if you had to eat a kale salad or choose death, the great hereafter isn’t a bad option.

Bad Choices Built Civilization

I am not getting into a discussion of free will versus determinism, mostly because I am not smart enough to discern the difference and it is a mood killer on first dates. Trust me.

Rather I make the argument that if we didn’t make bad choices, civilization wouldn’t have evolved as far as it has. If humans didn’t make bad choices, we wouldn’t need police, the fire department, emergency medicine doctors and nurses,  lawyers, self-help gurus, or dietitians.

Bad decisions are the cornerstone of learning and growth. How many times have you said “Oh another drink couldn’t hurt. Make it a double!” only to find yourself lying in bed the next day reaching for a painkiller that was invented because someone saw a need to reduce the searing pain of a hangover. Your bad decision led to the modern pharma industry’s feeding you meds.

Think of all the lawyers that we need because people decided to submerge toasters in water or all the prosthetics that were invented because some humans decided to stick their hands into a spinning blade? Where would personal injury lawyers be without poor decision-making? They’d be flipping burgers instead of driving Porsche SUVs.

Inescapable

Since we are bound to make bad choices, either due to faulty genetics, poor lighting, poor education, poor parental modeling, a lack of sleep, or a significant other telling us we always do the laundry wrong, I say screw it. I am going to have another danish.

Pontifically challenged and perpetually perturbed,
Augustus Johann Sebastian Druker, 16th waterboy of the Earl of Sheepshire

To Vax or Not – The Idiot’s Question

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Modern day reality TV shows know no depth to which they will not sink in order to attract viewers. They’re aimed at idiots. It’s why people still love Big Brother that’s now translated into 3000 languages and is broadcast in every country and planet in the Milky Way. Turns out there’s unintelligent life in other parts of the galaxy. Idiots outnumber us, dear readers. Big time.

Same goes for competitive cooking shows. They exploit people who truly love to cook only to be yelled at and belittled for an international audience. Maybe even an intergalactic audience. And worse, they’re hosted by arrogant idiots who give their willing cooks ingredients like old socks, fermented goat anuses and mineral oil and expect them to come up with a delicious meal in a TV-timed 22 minutes.

Given that the-idiots-to-not-idiots ratio is about 6 billion to 1, I decided that I too could come up with an idea for a reality show that would be a smash hit. Switch the governments of the Taliban and Haiti to run each other’s country for 6 months and see which one explodes first.  But it would have to be hosted by an arrogant, self-important and stupid host from CNN. There are many to choose from.

So what does the world of idiot TV shows have to do with sub-mental people who question whether to vax or not to vax?

Idiots & Questions

It’s a tenuous argument at best, given that I haven’t had a chocolate danish in over 3 weeks. However, I think that the global pervasiveness of stupidity has infected humanity, which has led to anti-vaxxers. What else could explain why a sane person would refuse a vaccination against a virus that has killed more than 4 million people?

You’d rather take horse de-worming medicine and potentially lose your sight than take a vaccine? You’d rather listen to anti-vaxxers who have died because of COVID than take your medicine? You’d rather tell people you’re firmly anti-science and think drinking bleach will solve the problem? This can only mean one thing – idiocy must be a side effect of being an anti-vaxxer. Or is it the other way around?

I’d bet you that if you gave people free pornography and beer you’d convince more people to get the vaccine than lotteries, guilt-trips, cash incentives and celebrity endorsements combined.

Greater Threat

Now I am concerned. Maybe a genetic trait of anti-vaxxers is an expressive idiot gene They become not just half-wits, but full-on morons! They’ll procreate even more and spread not just their flawed mental traits, but they’ll spread rumours like dogs having two noses (One dog does, actually.  I couldn’t resist that wildly gratuitous non-sequitur. I stumbled on it while surfing on Flipboard).

Obviously more education isn’t the answer. We’ve tried that. Neither is coercion, nor threats, endorsements, financial incentives or even people actually dying from the virus.

My suggestion is this: Have the secret shadow world government run by Marion Dawson and Disney Corp. activate the microchip given to us in the COVID vaccine and instruct us to gather all the anti-vaxxers, put them on ships and send them to live with the Taliban for one year on an isolated island with no food or clothing.

Now there’s a great idea for a reality TV show.

Disturbingly disturbed and full of grilled pork,
Dalai Lama Trinley Gyatso

Artificial Intelligence for the Stupid

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Who is more stupid? Humans or is artificial intelligence? I read a little while ago that there’s a list of 403 forbidden words used to filter search and website results. The AI program in some search engines uses this list to keep ‘bad’ words from showing up in search results and potentially offending viewers of the global cesspit that is the Internet.

I didn’t look at this list (yet) and I’m sure it’s missing entries that my father used to curse me and others at random points in his life when he was brought powdered sugar donuts that His Royal Highness didn’t deem to be fresh enough. But I digress.

Using AI to detect meaning and context in language is very difficult. With artificial intelligence you need to give it to a developer who understands computer languages. That very faulty human has to somehow figure out a way to have an algorithm understand, recognize and learn about those bits of vocabulary, usually without context, and then get it to figure out you are indeed searching for, let’s say, “feckless hairy pinatas” and not “recipes with cherries and bananas.”

It’s pretty darn complicated.

Logic, Language and Context

Let’s say you’re wildly passionate about metal fastening devices and you type in the word “screw” – you may not want to be led to a website that shall we say is chiefly concerned with advancing carnal knowledge (via credit card) and shows off heavily tattooed and physics-defying intimate body interactions. Or maybe you do. I am not here to judge. Yet.

You see human language has nothing to do with logic. Let alone artificial intelligence. Or animal intelligence. It’s about conveying an idea or information for many interesting reasons. Sometimes it’s to show dominance, display accumulated knowledge, make people laugh, or to purchase a fresh chocolate danish, and not the one that’s been dropped by the ham-fisted teenager behind the counter.

In numerous studies done by a guy named Manny in a remote fishing village, he determined that most often language is used to get another person to pay attention to you so you can fish through their pockets for valuables while they’re not looking. This sounds quite credible to me.

Have We Learned Anything?

Absolutely nothing. All we can really assume after this short rant is that I doubt that the masters of this list of forbidden words can ever teach and create algorithms that can handle the breadth, depth and ferocity of dirty words I know I have used in the past week since I stubbed my toe. Let alone the stuff that my father used to say to the tv. And me.

Terribly tired and fed up waiting for his COVID vaccination,
Dr. Philmore Blemish III

Am I Off Trend Again?

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Having just devoured a scrumptious dinner with my daughter, which involved lively conversation about her schooling and her school mates (all remote and visible via a computer screen only), I was reminded for the 6,793rd time this month that I am not only old, but wildly out of touch with the latest trends.

In addition to teaching me the term “insta-baddie” and a few other choice terms teens use to explain what passes for human communication these days, my mind wandered to the subject of this instalment of the comic blog that Arch Duke Ferdinand once said he’d rather be assassinated than to have to read again: The Brazilian Butt Lift (or BBL for those in the know). It’s not just a trend, it’s a way of spending stupid money.

I readily accept that the last time I was on trend, or even within a city block of a trend, I was probably 17 when I wore red leather bowling shoes. They were cool. Yes, I was frequently ostracized from main stream society. And my family. And branded a heretic. The subsequent re-programming using shock therapy didn’t fix me, but it sure made my dad laugh. But I digress.

The short version of the BBL: They suck fat out of one part of your body and stick it in and around your buttock area so men, women, your dog and hermaphrodites can have a body shape like Kim Kardashian. Honestly, I thought this was a joke when I heard about it, but this trend is real.

People will spend (oh I can’t resist writing  this) big-ass money to have themselves intentionally mauled by a Porsche-driving cosmetic surgeon to look like someone who has all the societal value of the residue at the bottom of a locker room soap dish.

And you wonder why Trump got elected…

The thing with trends is that they take so much effort to follow and stay on top of. Or close enough to hold hands with. Which is why youth are so good at following trends slavishly. It takes time and energy, two things I am officially out, along with money, danish, self-respect and hair on the top of my head. When you’re young you can use your boundless energy to hunt for and chase down the latest thing. Google or Twitter will help you find what’s trending. Instant gratification.

What else do the youth of today have to do but be on social media and see what’s hot, what’s not and make sure they latch on desperately, because social media makes them feel like crap for not being famous every minute of every day and are thus worthless members of society.

Same goes for more than a few adults I know. But many of them are hitting a point in their lives where not even a BBL would help them look cool. Only a sports car of German origin might work. Or a profligate SUV, but those are more for people who are “adult trendy.” It’s different from those youth trends. You have way more debt and body fat to use for an eventual BBL.

Infuriatingly insolent – and proud of it,
Ishmael of the Caves Druker

If you have extra fat, what would you do with it?