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Spoiled Rotten Brats -- Look no further:
They are the cause of every ongoing social
problem on earth. Every single one.



From Wikipedia:

A spoiled child or spoiled brat is a derogatory term aimed at children [or adults] who exhibit behavioral problems from being overindulged by their parents or other caregivers. Children, teens [and adults] who are perceived as spoiled may be described as "overindulged", "grandiose", "narcissistic" or "egocentric-regressed".

...The syndrome is characterized by "excessive, self-centered, and immature behavior". It includes lack of consideration for other people, recurrent temper tantrums, an inability to handle the delay of gratification, demands for having one's own way, obstructiveness, and manipulation to get their way.

McIntosh attributed the [resulting] syndrome to "the failure of parents to enforce consistent, age-appropriate limits", but others, such as Aylward, note that temperament [nature vs nurture] is probably a contributory factor. It is important to note that the temper tantrums are recurrent.....Extreme cases of spoiled child syndrome will involve frequent temper tantrums, physical aggression, defiance, destructive behavior...

Spoiling in early childhood tends to create characteristic reactions that persist, fixed, into later life. These can cause significant social problems. Spoiled children may have difficulty coping with situations such as teachers scolding them or refusing to grant extensions on homework assignments, playmates refusing to allow them to play with their toys and playmates refusing playdates with them, a loss in friends, failure in employment, and failure with personal relationships. As adults, spoiled children may experience problems with anger management, professionalism, and personal relationships; a link with adult psychopathy has been observed..


"Spoiled Rotten Brat" refers to any human who may be a child, or who acts like a child, who is so self-centered they have no respect for the wants, desires, or needs of anyone around them. They aren't aware of them. They simply don't care if they are aware. To them, you are bacteria, either a means to a selfish end, or you're in the way.

Animals can be spoiled too.

Like the fruit that by happenstance was able to grow in the perfect environment, in the perfect soil, with perfect sunshine, perfect rainfall, no wind to test its roots, no insects to make it strong, pampered at every turn; it's beautiful for awhile, but reality soon enough rears its ugly head when it's spoiled. Think CNN's Jim Acosta.

The world is teeming with spoiled rotten brats of every type, brand and description. Maybe, just like a plugged up toilet, it's actually overflowing with them.

The relative affluence that exists in the world today is producing spoiled rotten brats in record numbers. We're even seeing them in developing Third World countries. I know; I live in one. It's not always money or things that spoils someone; a simple lack of guidance and discipline will create the same societal menace. Dirt-poor societies can produce spoiled brats, but not at the numbers rich countries do.

Life is easier than before. Modern parents, especially in nanny-states like America, the UK, Australia, Germany, France (etc) are seldom tested sufficiently by real life, so their children aren't taught about real life either and are protected and insulated from all the trials that would have taught them humility and true strength of character.

Think: "Idiocracy" -- it's playing out before our very eyes in real time all around the world, but especially in Liberal/Democratically-run cities in the US. It's not an opinion. Research the numbers.

Sometimes it rains; that's a fact. Sometimes the sun shines; that's a fact. Sometimes dogs get hit by cars; that's a fact. Democratically-run cities are a horror; that's a long-established fact. It doesn't matter if you don't believe it, just as it doesn't matter if you don't believe it's raining. Facts don't care if you believe in them or not, sorry to say.

The offspring of spoiled rotten little brats will further cause society to devolve, because they'll be even more spoiled, self-centered, hapless and blind than their parents. I don't believe there is an end to this movement short of a cataclysmic disaster that culls the silly and the helpless, and forces survivors to (re)grow some brains. People are provably dumber than they used to be -- another inconvenient fact. The dumbing-down of the world will continue slowly, albeit unabated, until something really big interrupts it. The arrogance of the spoiled precludes them learning how to behave, and intelligent people recognize this, which drives them farther and farther into effective hiding, making fewer and fewer attempts to put the train back on the tracks. Increasingly, they see the futility.

Northern Europe was a marvelous school after the last ice age. Humans had to put up or shut up. Game was scarce; only the strongest and most clever of hunters survived. The weather was atrocious -- only those with enough brain cells managed to learn to plan for the seasons to keep warm and dry and fed in tough times. The silly did not survive to produce more silliness. It was called, oddly enough, natural selection. Many more temperate parts of the world presented fewer challenges to the species, and the results can be researched.

There is a small bay with a river emptying into it in Alaska (one of millions), where the salmon struggled valiantly to make it up and over a falls, in order to breed and further the species. Many or most failed. Some well-meaners came along and lamented their plight, because the falls were quite difficult after all. They were concerned for the future of that salmon run. Nice hippy folks.

So they put together a project -- the millions of dollars of your money that was required is unknown -- and they built a tunnel for the fish to swim through, under the falls, thereby avoiding the falls altogether, and also dodging the ever-hungry bears. This made it easy for nearly every single fish to make it up-river to the spawning grounds and reproduce. Now, not only the strong and smart could succeed. EVERYONE COULD.

Then the nice humans brushed the dust off their hands and sat back, smug in the certain knowledge that they had saved the run, and soon the numbers of fish would be staggering.

Imagine their chagrin, then, when the run declined....and declined....until it was very nearly extinct. Oh, what could have happened!?

Fortunately for the fish, some wiser people came along and explained calmly that this group had removed everything that made the salmon strong. Therefore, all the weak ones were able to bypass the falls and breed, and create more weak fish, who created fish less capable and dumber still, and soon the entire run was a sad affair of weaklings and slackards. The run was documentably dying off.

The tunnel was plugged reluctantly off (it was a magnificent and expensive tunnel), barely in the nick of time, and the strength -- and numbers -- of the run grew back to their original glory.

A handful of fools had spoiled them rotten. Lucky someone fixed it. Think of it: Spoiled Rotten Fish.

I wonder what the human offspring of these "fish-saving-dweebs" were/are like. Likely, they're now the politicians sheltering, protecting and making excuses for the mindless, uneducated, spoiled rotten brat looters and arsonists in places like Portland, Oregon, Seattle USA, and Washington D.C. in mid-2020. They undoubtedly hatched a bunch of weak-thinking-demon-spawn, and now they, those parents, are at the mercy of their children's madness. Unfortunately, the good people in society are at the mercy of those ravaging little shitheads too. I wonder if those kids are in Portland and Seattle right now, burning down public buildings and earning the heartfelt praise of those mayors.

I had a quasi-friend decades ago who was heavily involved in the "horse show" thing. I worked as a cow-puncher and horse shoer (farrier) for many years and I'm sorry, but I just don't like the horse show crowd. I even wrote a book about them. But anyway, this gal had a lot of money and even more hubris and she wanted only the very best (i.e. prettiest) horses in the world. --Not so she could ride them or perform any useful work on them of course, but rather so that others would envy her. That's it. That was her motivation in its entirety.

She bought more and more expensive horses, as she could afford them by her husband's hard work, and finally she attained what was, to her, the pinnacle of horse-flesh ownership. By God, this turkey would win her some shows.

She kept it blanketed (so it didn't grow any coat and ruin its looks) and she installed light-timers in its stall (so it would be further tricked into thinking it was always summer, and hence, not grow any hair which would ruin its looks), and she kept it exclusively in a lush, padded cell --er, I mean, stall. Heated in winter. Air-conditioned in summer. Always spotless and cushy. Had it not been a mare she probably would have stolen out to the barn every night and given it a proper blow-job. Sorry for the unforgettable graphic but that's a sample of how weary I am of this crowd.

On the rare occasions she took it outside, it shivered and looked around, bug-eyed -- shivered because it had no coat of hair and it was freezing in 60f temperatures, and bug-eyed because it was scared to death of anything except the inside of its lovely stall or a round pen. Its brain at age six was a blank chip.

Nothing much was ever asked of this hoss, except to prance daintily on cue and to stand politely while being meticulously brushed and groomed, among other equally valueless tricks that so amused the horse show crowd. It was never, of course, even ridden on a manicured trail. But pictures were encouraged when it was taken into the round-pen to longe around on a bed eight inches deep of finely-sifted wood chips. She had invested in this waste of flesh about the same amount her husband had invested in their entire home and ranchette, complete with private runway.

One day this horse broke its leg. No one knew how -- maybe it was doing jumping jacks in its soft stall out of boredom and that stress proved too much. It broke its leg because its bones had never been asked (or allowed to) do a Goddamned thing in the real world. It was a prissy, il-tempered, spoiled rotten brat of a horse who had never grown a proper bone nor developed the muscles to support itself. It had shoved its leg bone right down through the center of its hoof, then broke it.

Being that the horse was so insanely expensive, the owner elected to try to heal the mess that overindulgence created. Of course it was patently hopeless, and cruel, and I told her so bluntly, as did the vets and her friends and probably passersby -- but she had more money than brains and she loved this spoiled donkey of an equine and she footed the bill, no pun please.

It was placed in a sling brought in on a lowboy semi trailer, then operated on for 12 hours, sewn up and it had to hang there for weeks while being cared for 24/7 by a veterinary team. The woman dutifully followed all instructions from all the vets. The bill was, as they said in the old Space Balls movie, "Beyond Ludicrous".

But finally it was pronounced healed. And fit. -Fit for standing still and looking pretty at the horse shows. And all was well with the world until two weeks later when it did the same damned thing again and was mercifully put down.

People are usually what we think of when we think of being spoiled, but animals (yapping little house dogs reeking of Banty-Rooster Syndrome, anyone?) can be too, and this was a classic case. This woman had protected this horse from absolutely everything life could toss its way, to the point that it couldn't handle even horsing around inside a cushy stall.

This woman, presumably with the help of her husband, produced a female child who is one of perhaps three or four people I've encountered in my life as being deserving of the title EVIL. Charlie Manson is one. This girl is pure, unadulterated, spoiled-rotten-brat, three orders of magnitude below valueless. No other phrase could describe her.

I rode long night trails on rustler patrol for an 1100 section ranch in the SW US a few lifetimes ago and I mostly rode mustangs because they could do at least twice the work of any domestic horse and they were documentably smarter too. This was a result of (here it comes again) natural selection. Unfortunately many were trained poorly by ham-fisted boobs, fresh off the range as wild horses, and my rustler-hunting was one part hunting and one part training out the stupid things some jackass had unwittingly trained into the horse I was on for that part of the day. It was typical to wear out two or three horses a day.

I amassed a small reputation for being good at sorting out recalcitrant horses and so people brought them to me. Mostly yuppies. Mostly idiot, spoiled domestic horses. And plenty of Goddamned Appaloosas.

I remember a case in which a good friend and his wife brought me her little mare who was behaving badly; she wanted it "fixed". In 15 seconds I knew the horse had been horrifically spoiled and "fixing" a spoiled horse is, for me, a fairly unpleasant task. It's much easier to put good, new data into their empty heads, than to take bad, corrupt, old data out and THEN put new, good data back in, in its place. But it can be done and so I did it.

After a week her horse was more or less ridable, provided the rider remained CEO. I called her to come collect it -- no charge. I schooled the woman politely in the horse's behavior before, compared to now, and why it was acting badly before, and why it was acting measurably better now, and I explain patiently and clearly how to correct the bad behavior when it cropped up again -- and crop up again it would. She got aboard to try her out, and within, literally, 7 minutes, she had reverted the horse right back to where it had been a week prior. I told her so and she went away and the horse eventually became completely unridable and was sold by the pound. The woman cried. Boo Hoo. That horse was a spoiled rotten brat and it cost her her life.

This woman's husband had been a quite good friend of mine for some years. One day he went to his local supermarket and bought, among other things, a can of beans. Nice beans. Cheap beans. He had glanced at the little sign in front of the rows of cans of beans, there on the bean shelf, and it had read: "89 cents". It was a fair enough price. They were quality beans.

At the checkout counter, the can was scanned and rung up at $1.11. A dollar eleven? Asked my friend a little breathlessly. Yes, that was correct, the checkout lady assured him, as she kept on scanning and ringing as fast as she could. But my friend asked her to go back and check that can again because, his eyesight being quite good, he was positive it was really supposed to cost eighty nine cents.

The woman re-scanned it. Yep. A buck eleven.

My friend then asked that it be re-scanned AGAIN. So the nice lady re-scanned it AGAIN. Three scans now, mind you. And it scanned at a buck eleven all three times.

My friend refused to pay.

The lady, non-plussed, politely put the can off to the side and continued ringing up his goods. He paid for them, then went directly to the manager's office.

The good manager was duly apologetic and took my friend back to the bean shelf to see what was going on.

--Turns out my friend had taken the can of beans from in front of the eighty nine cent row, yes, but it had accidentally been put there by some asshole customer. The manager showed my friend that all other beans of that exact type and size, in their properly allocated rows, were really a buck eleven, per the little price sign. The eighty nine cent beans were different kinds of beans.

My friend was doubly incensed. How the Eff could this happen, he admittedly bellowed!?

Well, the kind manager explained, sometimes in real life things like this DO happen, and we must all come to grips with these gargantuan misfortunes and try to just get along as best we could. Maybe it was kids just playing around. "Tell you what," the manager said. "I'll give you this can at eighty nine cents."

My friend took it, and paid for it, and went home.

But now there was a burr under his saddle and he just couldn't let it go.

A week later he went back to the manager and told him the resolution wasn't good enough. He wanted four cans now. For free. To make up for some sort of mental trauma or something.

The manager knew, then, what he was dealing with, but gave the guy the four cans for free, hoping to cut his losses and wash his hands of this problem.

My friend thanked him and went home.

But he related to me, quite proudly, that he went back a week later and demanded half a case of beans. For free.

The manager saw an opportunity to solve this once and for all so he agreed, on the condition that my friend never set foot in his store again. My friend agreed, and took the beans home.

But, you know, when you get a burr under your saddle, sometimes it gets just plain infected, and more serious remedies are required to treat it.

My friend went back to the store and demanded 3 cases. For free. And the police were called and he was escorted out in full view of numerous friends in that small community.

And that served to terminate my friendship with this man forever.

Spoiled Rotten Fucking Brat. I never knew he had that in him.

The weird thing was, his parents were never rich, and this man worked hard for a living, and as far as I ever knew, he was never spoiled in any way. But he was still a spoiled rotten brat. This couple produced a boy who was, and is as an adult, a spoiled rotten brat. Go figure.

Sometimes this condition isn't caused, but is organic. It's in the genes. I suspect Jim Acosta's embarrassing, glaring character flaw in this regard was both cooked into his DNA, but also nurtured and encouraged by a ludicrously doting Mommy. Just a hunch.

America is full of children who grow into a quasi-adulthood who have been spoiled and ruined just like this. They don't know a Goddamned thing about a Goddamned thing, but rest assured, they're Legends in Their Own Minds.

Their fool, helpless, hapless professors, if they went to school, have been training them badly indeed, spoiled brats that most of them are too. They never had any real job (like most politicians) because their parents didn't want them to have to "suffer" through a summer (or five) of mowing lawns or changing car tires at the local gas station or working in a commercial laundry or a factory or --- And so they endured few hardships, if any, which meant their bones -- physically and mentally -- were weak. We see them on TV every day now, every hour, especially in the age of Black Lives Matter (BLM).

Who ARE the Black Lives Matter crowd? I would have hoped that they were good people who were tired of seeing black people treated poorly, and who wanted the world to know that, by God, BLACK LIVES MATTER. And a few are exactly that.

But those aren't really the folks behind that movement now.

There's a growing segment of every population who dreams of chaos. Because they're lazy. And stupid to the point of being reptilian. And they have this clinically-insane notion that if there is no law, then there is no rent to pay, and food is free, and electricity grows on trees, and --- It's every communist's wet-dream. AOC, anyone?

Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez

Of course the whole concept is as flawed as flawed can get. But you'll never convince the looters, rapists, arsonists, murderers, and other assorted imbeciles and vermin, that while democracy very often sucks, it sucks less than every other alternative the world has shit out its ass over endless millennia. Capitalism sucks. I'm the first to admit it. But show me a system that's better. If you do, I'll RUN to it. But you won't. Because you can't. I wish there was one. There isn't. Be an adult and suck it up and make the best system better. It's a simple concept that requires only 7 seconds of elementary thought. Unless you're stupid. Or insane.

But none of this matters because the looting mentality doesn't give a rat's ass about any of it. They never did. They simply want to steal and burn and kill and rape and destroy. That is TRULY all they want out of life. It's baked into their DNA and always has been. They grasp at ANYTHING that will provide the flimsiest of excuses for behaving like this. It seems impossible that any human being could ever be that whacked in the head. But the numbers of "whacked in the head" are huge now. Huge. And growing exponentially.

These are born as worthless dipshits who never got the stupidity learned out of them, because they were spoiled. Take a natural born child molester and reinforce that natural tendency with kiddie porn for twenty or forty years and see what you produce. Nature AND nurture.

BLM came along, and as a philosophy and a movement it actually has some merit. That was the icing on the cake. It had legitimacy. That made it easier for the rapists and killers and arsonists to latch onto it. After all, how are you going to argue with THAT? Just feign a good measure of righteous indignation and then go out and burn and destroy and rape under that umbrella. Perfect! And the liberal media laps it up because they're only four inches from that mentality anyway!

BLM offers a great cover for those who simply want to destroy and who don't care what or why, where or when. They've attached themselves to this movement, and many others, in order to act like spoiled rotten brats and more or less get away with it. And because so many political "leaders" are also worthless dipsticks, the chaos is working out, really, pretty well. The few true Black Lives Matter proponents are powerless to get their train back on the track, but of course they never really tried, not even in the beginning.

In every march, there's a small percentage of well-meaning, believing folks making signs and chanting. Honestly, the movement needs far and many more of those and they need to do more than make signs and dance and chant, drink and shoot fireworks. They need to organize, educate and vote. But it's now moot since the entire ideology has been hijacked by the absolute scum of the earth. The Spoiled. Rotten. Brats.

I watch "news"-casters struggle endlessly to ascribe various tenets of logic and reason to the current BS that's burning America. They'll endlessly lament the rioters, saying things like, "But why don't they understand....(this or that)". Seriously? Why don't looters and rapists and killers just stop for a moment, and think clearly about what they're doing, and how it's bad for the BLM cause, or any other cause. Seriously. Why can't they just stop and think?

It's because they don't have any brains. Maybe flying monkeys stole them. Chances are it was several generations of drug and alcohol use and abuse and they're suffering from fetal alcohol/drug syndromes compounded one upon another for the last 60 years. They're stupid. Get it? Stop asking why they just can't see--- if they could SEE the logic of not burning down the businesses they depend on in their daily lives, they wouldn't do it. You wouldn't have to ask them why they're doing it or to think about why they're doing it -- if they had even three tiny brain cells to rub together they wouldn't be doing it. So stop asking why they do it. They do it because they're stupid and they are absolutely ruled by raw, spoiled-rotten-brat emotion and utterly nothing else. They aren't even as reasonable as monkeys. I know, because I live with monkeys (real ones) every day and they are smarter. Some are even my friends. The current BLM rioters are brain damaged light years beyond anything the terminally-yuppified pundits and announcers and big-boned, Ivy-League-educated Scandinavian blonds who exclusively populate some outlets can even remotely relate to. The rioters are animals and that's an insult to animals. Choke it down. Stop trying to assess it. Stop trying to rationalize it. Some things just ARE. Rain IS. All you can really do is get out of its way. There is less than no point in asking the rain to think about the picnic is is ruining.

It used to be (in caveman days) that the mentally handicapped were relatively few and far between. They couldn't hunt. They couldn't build shelters. They couldn't outsmart their adversaries. Big critters ate them often. If they were too annoying, someone konked them in the skull with a bone club and they didn't breed any more losers. It was called (wait for it) natural selection.

I used to work as First Mate on a cargo boat servicing a long coastline dotted with millions of islands. Upon many of these islands lived native indian tribes. We serviced a particular tribe more often than some others and I studied them quite thoroughly for several years. When one of the tribe raped or killed too many of its members, a hunting party was arranged and the offender was invited to go along. Delighted, he went. And he never came back. I personally watched this play out again and again. I never understood why the offenders couldn't figure out that being invited to a hunting party was NOT a good thing. I supposed they never dreamed that the things they'd done amounted to enough to cost them their lives, but the Indians had patience far beyond those of Mother Teresa and by the time they got around to offing one of their own, their list of transgressions against the society would have caused the Pope himself to throttle them to death a decade before the tribe got around to it. I imagined they just shot the guys in the back of the head when they weren't looking, but I never really knew. And this was actually just another form of natural selection.

Modern society has built a billion, trillion, gazillion tunnels under the falls, and now, it really doesn't matter how fucking stupid you are; you're going to thrive. There are hundreds of thousands of government hand-up (hand-out) programs to help the poor, many or most of whom are poor only by choice of laziness. Programs are a great thing, to a point. But there are so many now that you really don't have to work or be intelligent at all in order to enjoy a fairly comfortable life. And the screeching left is working overtime to expand those programs, even if it bankrupts the nation. Their dream is that NO ONE will have to work. Ever. Except conservatives, of course. Because, after all, someone has to support the lazy shits. If they find a way to pay for this dream, I'm right there at the front of the line. But they won't. Period.

I ran away from home at age 14, much because I was driven, like a salmon swimming up a falls, to see the world. I just had to see it and experience it in every single way. I couldn't wait. I called in all my markers from friends, packed a bag, borrowed a blanket, and set off on foot. Age 14.

The money was gone in a few days. No one would hire a 14 year old. I was hungry in the beginning, and cold. It was the 1960's. Hippies were everywhere. Free love. Free food. Free drugs. Free sex. No one worked. Everyone traveled. Everyone shared. Everyone was kind. Everyone was happy. Fuck "the man". Of course I joined them. Who wouldn't? I had no clue who "the man" was, but he must be one truly evil son of a bitch.

I hung around Berkley a lot and although I didn't participate in the marches and demonstrations because I didn't understand the issues, I spectated a lot and learned everything I could. In about 3 years I hitch-hiked 110,000 miles or more. Never any incidents at all. I covered the country again and again and again. I traveled exactly at my whim. I could literally decide in 40 seconds time that I wanted to be in San Fransisco instead of Denver, and in 60 seconds I was on the road. Outstretched thumbs could and would take you absolutely everywhere. In cars worked for and owned by others.

I was seldom hungry, but sometimes cold. My one blanket, torn and threadbare, served me as well as it was able all those years, but sometimes, in North Dakota, or Wyoming, or Denver, it was Goddamned cold and I suffered. But that too, was all part of the adventure. I learned to favor more southerly latitudes, regions where you could sleep outside in January even, and not die, because downtown Salt Lake city in the winter, in a frozen, snow-drifted phone booth, was harsh.

I was positively driven to move, move, move, absorbing as many sights and adventures and lessons and even hardships as my busy schedule could possibly fit in. I was almost to Woodstock when some jackass in a truck stop said it was canceled. So, off to San Diego. I was hitching around north of Big Sur when I met a pretty girl who invited me to her "ranch", just down this road and up this trail a few miles. Come on! It'll be fun! I trekked behind her for an hour, but things got darker and darker in my soul, and I turned around and went back on my own. Imagine had I actually met Manson himself.

I was south of Big Sur when they caught the cannibals. I got robbed by a trembling, stuttering speed freak with a very big gun in Colorado. I rode endlessly aboard a red, white a blue hearse -- the whole western US over months.

I hooked up with a long lost uncle and ended up herding cattle for his neighbor in eastern Nevada. I liked those people.

And except for that cowboy stint I was almost always in the company of hippies. Real ones. Not the rhinestone turkeys. I wanted to be a real hippy. I was walking the walk, but not really talking the talk, as hard as I tried. I tried my very best to look up to them and they tried to teach me their way of life like it was a full-on religion. Love is good. The Man is bad. Love is good. Drugs are good. Tepees are good. Buildings are bad. It's OK to fuck the man. Stealing from The Man is good. Pigs are bad. Drugs are good. It was a constant mantra of that and little else.

But the definition of who was "the man" became ever broader. I doubt I once went into any shop or business with any group of hippies where nothing was stolen, and the girls would squeal about it they fucked over "The Man". That elderly couple who had built that decrepit drug and variety store in that tiny town in Utah 60 years before when they were young, and who were kind and pleasant and gave us all some candy were, of course, "The Man", and the crap the shitty, larcenous girls stuffed into their purses and raunchy panties was perfectly justified because somehow, some way, way back, somewhere, those people had been associated with the "The Man", and so they were to be hurt, stolen from, cleaned out if necessary, even ruined. Maybe even killed. I wasn't fitting into that program, now matter how much I wanted to. Logic can ruin a dream.

And what's the philosophy of the BLM rioters and arsonists today?

The definition of "The Man" became anyone who had more than you or, even, anyone who had something you wanted but couldn't buy or steal because you had no money. Because you had no job. Because you were too lazy and fucked up in the head to work at any job. So a fellow hippy with a jacket or a backpack not quite as worn as yours became "The Man", and therefor fair game. I wasn't buying the philosophy. In lieu of parents, I was having to shape my own character. That's what I learned in three years under the stars in the mid and late 1960's. You must create your own character according to principles and ideals that were built into you, whether you knew it or not, whether you liked it or not. To thine own self be true.

I learned another thing and it remains the most valuable axiom I've ever come to realize: The root of all disappointment lies in unrealistic expectation. It applies to all things, all the time, forever. It is the equation that solves the mystery and heartbreak of every moment there ever was or ever will be. Ignore it at your peril. I repeat it to myself many times per day when I need a dose of reality.

Life for hippies was incredibly easy in the early days because people thought they were, well, cute. At least they became cute after an initial period of public revulsion and some rage. They were colorful and they sang and danced a lot and they were free and non-judging and they feigned good manners and they were, by God, by GOD, going to change the world into a fundamentally far better place than the piece of shit it clearly was then. And people kinda, sorta respected that. In the beginning.

But little shop owners and home owners and car owners and innocent people walking around in every town in America and indeed nearly around the world got just a trifle weary of the theft and the laziness and the smell and the rudeness and the limp, drugged-out bodies blocking the entrances to buildings, and life started to become a bit more realistic for the hippies.

Hippies always wanted to be farmers because that was "back to the earth". It was simple, honorable, natural. Now that I've walked Pol-Pot's killing fields, it stings a little to think about farms and farming. But in any case the ultimate wet dream of most hippies was to have a farm.

Even in those days land was expensive and it was quite difficult for any single hippie to afford a piece of land big enough to do much with, so they were endlessly plotting to form little family groups who would all pitch in and buy a big plot and make it a farm and share all the work equally and life would be mutherfucking cool, man. Think of it: a commune.

I watched a million of them get planned, funded, put together, tilled, planted.....and that's about where every single one of them began to fall apart. From Mexico to northern Canada and SE Alaska, I watched communes get born, have a short life like a rumbling cumulus cloud, and fizzle and die. The reason was always the same: Ten percent did the work of ninety percent fucked off. Sooner or later, the ten percent got pissed off, and squabbles erupted more and more frequently, and the groups broke up. I can't think of a single commune that didn't die of that same disease. In my fourth grade grade school "Animal Farm" was required reading. It should be a law.

Hippies were lazy.

They just plain were.

As much as the Vietnam war, laziness and an aversion to discipline in any form for any reason was an impetus for the hippy movement.

And the working class, those who supported and paid for every resource the hippies selfishly consumed, finally began to realize that hippies were largely drug-addled, illogical, emotional, dishonest, dishonorable, maybe even insane, and they were no longer so cute as they once might have been.

In the second half of the 1960's, the general public -- the working folks -- began to lose patience with hippies. In the space of five years it went from slight annoyance to all-out rank disgust and contempt. They had come full circle from the beginning of the Free Love movement.

I watched with great interest as rides became inexorably harder to flag down, free food became scarcer and scarcer, free love turned into suspicion and denial.

In Denver, once, mid-Sixties, I was standing in the snow and howling wind downtown, shivering, wondering where I might find a free hostel for the night. Behind me was a high, ornate iron fence and behind that, a huge church. A nun came out from the building, walked straight to me and stopped on her side of the fence. She had half of an apple pie with ice cream on a beautiful plate, and by turning it creatively she was able to pass it through the fence. I hadn't eaten in days, and it was the best thing I ever tasted. I gulped it as she watched, and passed back the fine china plate, and thanked her from the bottom of my heart. She smiled angelically and turned and left. What a commercial for the Catholic faith. But those days were clearly coming to a close.

I spent a lot of time in the Haight Ashbury district of San Fransisco, circa Janis Joplin's early days, but even by then the Haight was a worm beginning to turn. I'd arrive from some far off place, tired, hungry, and I could walk into the Haight and I barely passed a building without someone yelling out, asking if I needed food, or drugs, or a place to stay, or sex. Literally, in any block near the Haight, these kinds of offers would be repeated six or nine times per block. Racism was some alien concept that did not exist in conscious nor subconscious thought. THAT was a cool lifestyle. I wanted so very badly to belong in that world and to never leave it.

But by the later Sixties, we went to neighborhood markets in the Haight and hurried home in tight, furtive, fearful, scheduled and organized groups, because violence was everywhere, especially after dark. Something rough, something ugly.....had hijacked the movement and the lifestyle I wanted to belong to began to evaporate before my eyes. Mostly good was morphing into mostly bad and at the time, none of us knew why.

There was no more free apple pie. A walk through the Haight was a walk through an almost sullen silence. I swear the colors themselves were muted. Doors were closed. Black people looked, to me, a little furtive. No one looked you in the eye anymore. No one smiled. People weren't sitting out in the yards. There was no interaction -- accidental gazes were quickly averted. The place felt cold and desolate, like most other neighborhoods in the Bay area. It felt windy, even though no wind blew on the day this hit me most profoundly. The movement of peace and love was rapidly coming to an end and that was crystal clear. Violence and ugliness had usurped it all, just like BLM.

The 1960's hippy movement -- the real movement -- lasted about a decade. The Vietnam war had been one big motivator. It pulled people together in a common cause. But young people were also sick to damned death of an almost Victorian establishment that said just about everything except breathing and guzzling alcohol and fighting at the high school football game was immoral and taboo. By 1960 it was time for a change and the hippies had stepped up, only to be defeated by another reality.

The BLM movement lasted, what? A month? But already the same agents of chaos and utter stupidity that took over the Haight's mostly enviable society, have taken over BLM. Now it's just mindless thugs, violent assholes who don't even know the difference between conservative and liberal thinking, nor do they even remotely care. They are the "Party of Burn" (POB), and that is absolutely all they know. No reason needed. Just burn, baby burn. If someone comes along and connects an ideology to the Party of Burn, well, then, they guess that's OK. But they don't really care. Let's just go BURN.

George -- was that guy's name? George something? That's how people see this now.

Think about it.

It took the violent jackasses of the world ten Goddamned years to replace, ruin and kill the hippy movement. And it took the violent, ignorant, jackasses of the world, the same mentality that killed the Haight and all places like it, only a month to take over BLM. This makes me wonder if the original BLM movement had any real heart at all.

I ultimately rejected hippies, mostly because of the dishonesty and laziness, but not the world their movement dreamed of. Who can argue with a philosophy of peace and love? No sane human could.

But by and large, they were still spoiled rotten brats, expecting the world to work for them while they sang and danced and got high and drank and -- sang and danced and smoked pot and dealt drugs and shoplifted from "the man" and --- and really not much more than that. It's the same stuff that all adolescents want. But many hippies were 60 years old. Sooner or later, ya gotta grow up.

Today's liberal movement doesn't understand the 1960's. It thinks it does, but it's clueless. I've thought about trying to sit down with groups of wannabe young hippies and to somehow get through to them and make them feel the electricity that was in the air in those days. But there's probably no point.

Today's liberal movement is like an episode of Body Snatchers (it should have been a series)(OK, OK, one season tops). The real liberals are gone, replaced by faulty clones who only read the book but never lived any part of it and, actually, never really understood the book either.

Liberal mayors believe the rioters who've taken over the BLM cause are the movement of Love and Peace from the 1960's, just using unorthodox methods to achieve it. One utterly mentally retarded mayor (Seattle Mayor Jenny Durkan) went so far as to make an even fatter fool of herself by calling the looting, arson and killing that was occurring half a mile from her office the "Summer of Love". Of course this is madness and I do intentionally mean to say clinical insanity. Summer of Love? How out of touch with any remnant of reality can you be to suggest that? Nothing could be farther from the truth. How much pot does this idiot smoke per day? How could she ever hold a job as assistant manager at 7-11 being that Goddamned embarrassingly stupid? She couldn't! I mean, literally, she couldn't hold that job! Yet she's MAYOR of a fucking large city! Indeed, every people have the government they deserve.

Today's "BLM" idiots are the same fools largely responsible for ending the spirit of the 1960's. Whatever they were, the hippies were almost never violent. Even they understood that violence turns all avenues into One-Way streets. All lead downhill. And at the bottom of that hill is Hell. And blood. Mostly their own blood. But plenty of it, also, from decent, innocent people who just want to get through life as best they can, but are prevented from doing that by spoiled rotten brats, and air headed "leaders", like Mayor Jenny Durkan.

I went back to school a little later in life, then to college. But college was too full of spoiled rotten brats. I was lucky in that my professors were actually somewhat down-to-earth, unlike the limp-wristed wastes of clothing you see today across most of the academic world. But the students were 23 year old whiners going on 11. I couldn't stomach them. Not for one microsecond did I regret dropping out. Neither do I regret going; it taught me what to avoid in life and I ultimately made a thousand times more money than any degree could have entitled me to. I learned a million times more about real life by experiencing real life than ever from any classroom. Think: "Dirty Jobs". Going to college has nearly nothing to do with earning money; rather, it is about learning to Just. Fit. In. For those who want only to fit in to the societal boilerplate, I say go for it. If you want to LIVE, and if you have any aversion at all to brainwashing, choose another path.

As we go along here, I'll occasionally provide links to cases of true American spoiled rotten brats, beginning with this one. This is a classic example of the direction the world is heading in. This mentality in America isn't a "slippery slope", it's a cliff, and the country has already jumped off of it, pushed by the growing hoards of spoiled rotten brats. The country is no longer recoverable because people this stupid now outnumber the somewhat intelligent. They can (and will) vote out good leaders (are there any, anyway?) in favor of people just as dumb and as backwards as they are. We are entering, Ladies and Germs, the "Age of The Spoiled Rotten Brat". In the 1960's the "new age" was called the "Age of Aquarius". Had a pretty and hopeful ring. But now it's the age of the stupid, foolish jackass, aka the Spoiled Rotten Brat, and it has the ring of a pond overflowing with steamy, burbling diarrhea.

The bible suggested that someday the meek shall inherit the earth. These imbeciles are inheriting the earth now -- are they "the meek" referenced in the bible? I don't put much stock in the bible, but sometimes it says thought-provoking things. But make no mistake: the fool(s) depicted in the above link are exactly, precisely what will (will) eventually come into power in America and, like a metastasizing brain cancer, the rest of the world in time. I live abroad (America, love it or leave it), and I am seeing the global spread of insanity in almost every country I visit now. There are no longer enough people with an IQ over 100 (60?) to keep them in check. The mindless zombies have finally, to their glee, reached critical mass and the cow is tipping and cannot be put upright again. I always laughed at the types that went off and bought abandon military missile silo sites in desolate places and packed in enough food for a generation. I laughed at them and dismissed them and even derided them a little, for decades and decades. I'm no longer laughing.

I tested for intelligence quotient twice. The first time, I was in a hurry to get through it within the allotted time and I skipped a lot, and at the end I was too lazy to go back and try the harder ones again because my tiny reptilian brain was tired. I scored 141. Years later I took it again and was even more lazy from the start and wondered why I was taking it again anyway. I scored 135. A good friend scored 180 or better every time. He got bored and dropped out of Mensa. I barely understood a word he said. He died penniless. I guess IQ doesn't necessarily equate to riches. He wasn't a spoiled brat, but his wives all were.

I'm currently in a truly Third World country where the people test pretty close to America's average (about 100) but that's kind of a sliding scale. Could I have done better than 141? I don't know because I didn't try. Maybe, the fact that I wasn't smart enough to try, means I'm capped at 141 for that reason and that I don't deserve to be regarded as possibly having a higher IQ. Clearly, I don't. Certainly, a smarter person would have been intelligent enough to try. Maybe laziness is one component of stupid. What are the IQs of major leaders? None of them would ever release the true number, so stop wondering. We can speculate though, like how many digits would Joe Biden command? And Trump? Is Trump the long lost twin brother of Corky Thatcher?

Do you yanks have anyone outside of Kennedy or Reagan who can tie their own fucking shoes? Seriously -- it's a square knot. How many presidents actually know this? You can tell by looking at their feet, assuming they don't have keepers to do it for them. See a granny knot and slate them for immediate removal by any means because your life will not get better under their command and the country is in imminent peril. It's not a joke.

People talk about "good ol' horse sense". But horses aren't very smart, regardless of whether they're spoiled rotten brats or not. You can't take a horse on the trails at the Grand Canyon, for instance, because they're plenty stupid enough to jump off the cliffs, and they used to, a lot, until they were banned.

Making lots of money has almost no bearing on intelligence. Look at cute little Zuckerberg the Zit for God's sake. Or Bill Gates who is skilled only at IP theft and couldn't make a reliable OS if his life depended on it. Clever, maybe. Wise? Not even close.

Are spoiled rotten brats intelligent? Some are, some aren't. I see not a lot of correlation between being spoiled and smart. Sometimes a really, really smart person can eventually realize that he's a spoiled rotten piece of shit, and his intelligence will spur him to change. But that's usually a life-long endeavor, and it's as rare as a unicorn with a penis as a horn. Sorry.

I was a commercial diver for a couple of lifetimes, a couple of lifetimes ago. There was a diver on a competing boat who was smart enough to buy one of the very first decompression computers ever made. They weren't really computers -- could have been made by cavemen with higher IQs. But anyway, it had a dial with green, yellow and red bands, and a needle which was supposed to tell you to decompress before surfacing, or not, or to consult the written tables. If you surfaced in the yellow, chances were high you'd get "the bends" and maybe never recover fully, or at all, even after immediate hospitalization. If you surfaced in the red, you were already dead, just waiting for the involuntary convulsions to stop.

This turkey (we called him Frankenberry) was a huge brute of a man, strong as five Russians named Olga, and every single day he came up for lunch with the rest of us and his "computer" was pegged into the red. Not just "somewhere in the red"; it was pegged. He had a habit of starting his day performing tasks at the shallowest depths and then progressing to the deepest depths where chores were to be done and then surfacing straight away because he was hungry.

We'd point out the needle quivering against the little brass stop at the end of the red zone, which really meant he probably had minutes to live, and he'd knock it against something hard and when it didn't budge, he continued eating, mumbling something about money wasted, refunds, like that. I have lots of stories about Frankenberry. Was he a spoiled rotten brat? No, he was a humble man who almost never caused anyone grief. He was just stupid.

I had a friend named Frank (real name) who lived out in the high desert at 8500 feet msl (a kind of desert with trees), had a little money, and was a dyed-in-the-wool tinkerer. He created a Flintstones-looking giant dish once that was embedded with what appeared to be about fifty three million mirrors, all planted in the three-feet-thick, fifteen foot diameter concrete at exactly the right angles so that when they reflected the sun, they all converged on a certain point about thirty feet from the face of the dish. His intelligence was revealed to be capped when he was unable to create any kind of device that would automatically track the sun for him, because his mission had been to collect the heat and somehow use it to power his home. One day his wife pulled her car into the driveway and parked and got out and was horrified by a cloud of smoke hovering on the driver's side of the car. She'd driven through the bean and roasted that sedan. Lucky the beam wasn't six inches higher, although I always did sort of wonder---

Frank got the idea back in about 1985 that the world could conceivably end soon, with crazed BLM terrorist types marauding through the streets and countrysides, murdering goats and people and pigs for no known reason. So he decided to dig out a huge shelter under his home where he could hide in times of distress. He did this by hand because he was the toughest Pole on earth, and he got the idea that if his neighbors, the closest being about 100 yards away through dense Pinion Pines, ever got the idea about what he was doing, then, well, when the apocalypse finally came, they'd be beating his door down to get in. So this project had to be strictly secret.

He dug down and down and down until I swear the earth was warmer -- he had been a miner by trade, escaped the prison camps in Germany, and really was that tough -- and then he pulled all the dirt up to his original floor level and dumped it into a wheelbarrow. --Secret enough so far.

I have to tell a short story about Frank here as an aside: On his first day in the old Soviet mines as a teenager, his boss took him to the edge of a bottomless hole, and leading down through the center of that hole was a single steel cable, about 2 inches in diameter. Frank got the idea they were waiting for the lift so as to descend into some hellish place and go to work. His boss didn't stop walking and simply jumped into the blackness, catching the cable with his bare hands. Frank thought he had tripped and would soon lose his grip and fall to his death -- he went down to his stomach and started yelling for the man to try to grasp his outstretched hand. The man hand-over-handed down a fathom or so and stopped, and asked Frank what he was waiting for. No time to wait for the lift. Frank was aghast, but he needed the job desperately, and if his boss was still alive, he reasoned he could do it and live too. So he jumped. And caught the cable. And they lowered themselves a few hundred feet to another level and swung themselves onto the floor of that level, and simply went to work without further discussion. Frank said that was the routine every day for years. The depth of the shaft might be five hundred feet. It might be two thousand feet. It didn't matter because if it was deeper than 25 feet you were dead anyway. The cable was three or four feet away and that's all that mattered.

I said Frank was tough. How many of today's clueless, embarrassing, limp-wristed little snowflake rioter shits have that kind of grit? Not a single fucking one, nor will they ever.

But how to get that dirt out of the house without anyone seeing it and figuring out what he was up to? And where to put it once it was outside?

Frank puzzled over this for quite some time -- he had begun to trust my young son (not me) with tiny bits of his secret. In the end his solution was to pull the wheelbarrows backward up his stairs to his second story, and then into the back bedroom. The open window was fitted with a sheet metal chute, and Frank would roll each wheelbarrow up a ramp to the level of the window and then dump the dirt and rock down the chute, which led into the steel bed of his ancient Soviet-era dump truck, the box of which was carefully covered by a huge tarp so no one would know what was inside (the Russians had spy planes even in those days for God's sake).

Every few days he drove the truck off to somewhere remote and dumped it, careful to never be followed.

It was a good enough plan except that every wheelbarrow load of rock that went down the chute rattled the entire fucking region and Frank only worked at night. He performed this work for years but I left before it was completed (some disagreement with the local drug mafia)(I foolishly declined the let them sell drugs over the counter in my restaurant), and I never saw the finished product. It must have been magnificent. Frank died of a heart attack a few years later.

Was Frank a spoiled rotten brat?

No. Frank was the most humble, helpful man on earth, and we talked for endless hours and days and weeks and months about quite sophisticated aspects of human philosophy and Frank was an equal, or better, in every way. There were just some things he wasn't up to speed with in daily life.

Am I a conservative or a liberal? I hate them both equally. I'm a pragmatist. I believe in abortion, even though it's one of the most grisly and soul-killing things on earth. I would believe wholeheartedly in recreational drugs for fun, if not for that pesky BRAIN DAMAGE AND HEALTH-KILLING THING. I believe in skillful, compassionate, comprehensive education over imprisonment -- except when that education doesn't work because the offender is a spoiled rotten recalcitrant brat. Then, no more chances or excuses -- cut their antisocial fucking heads off. I loathe hand-wringing and whining, and I see liberals and democrats as terminal hand-wringers, liars and whiners. I don't believe in God or law enforcement or the judicial system as it's structured today (great book on that topic here) and I see conservatives as head-busting, beer-boozing, police-state assholes. I do believe in many Christian principles, and in responsible law enforcement, and in a sane judicial system. I don't see much of either of those two latter things in America today.

I left the US forever after a mind-numbing experience with a wannabe cop (a California game warden) gone completely berserk with power -- I was pulled over on a California Interstate for not having a front license plate on a car that didn't legally require a front license plate, roughed up and held in handcuffs for 30 minutes. Spoiled rotten brats like that have no place on this earth. I can't imagine ever going back, due mainly to that one horrific experience.

So am I a liberal or a conservative or what?

Hint: Another reason I don't live in the USA because I have no faith in nor respect for either side.

I've spent my life backing up and backing up and backing up, struggling to always take in the bigger picture and the bigger picture and the biggest picture, so I could see modern society clearly and accurately and identify and define the very fabric that makes it up. I now conclude that all things in society could and would work themselves out smoothly and quietly and equitably but for one thing: Spoiled Rotten Brats. As I said at the top of this page: They are the cause of every ongoing social problem on earth. Every single one. Our problems all boil down to that one peculiar strata of humanity.

Decades ago a man named Robert Monroe wrote a series of three books having to do with the human soul. In one book he described leaving his body and floating around. It doesn't matter if you believe in the possibility of leaving your body and floating around or not; I've certainly never experienced it and I have no idea if I believe it's possible in any way, whether before death or after. But Monroe believed it and he talked about a particular experience in which he was drifting happily along, outside of any human body, and was suddenly seized by some sort of little demon asshole. It bit him viciously, raged at him, fought him, tried to destroy him, like a yapping, cowardly little house-dog, and he turned and did his best to counter its attack. Every time he turned to take them on, they backed off just out of reach, but then he turned to take on those approaching from another side, and that served only to bring more and more and more of these little assholes from the first side, which all attacked him ferociously from all the more. He was losing this mysterious battle and losing it in spectacular fashion. He said that eventually there was only one course of action remaining to try; he relaxed, stopped fighting, stopped countering the assaults, and indeed stopped caring. He said they continued to chew on him for a bit, but one by one the little bastards dropped away and presumably went in search of some other prey who cared more and might be more fun for the sadistic character. Then he continued on his journey, whatever that was, unmolested.

I've thought about that endlessly all these decades, trying to grasp what the hell he was talking about. The context of it really doesn't matter, I came to realize. -Whether he was truly traveling out of his body, or was unconsciously referring to real physical life here on this earth, the problem is the same. Evil minions will sooner or later try to take you down for no reason whatsoever except that it's what they do for a living. Trouble is in their hearts. It's the very structure of their DNA. A brown dog can't change its color to white, at least not easily.

When I think of the current BLM riots I understand that those looters and arsons and rapists and killers and robbers and assorted fools and illogical, ranting loudmouths and criminals come from exactly that layer. Maybe Monroe was merely dreaming about real people.

And then I try to understand where beings like that, whether real or ethereal, might come from. And I understand that they are nothing more than spoiled rotten brats.

Maybe we must face them in the afterlife. I know we must face them here. It doesn't matter how far you struggle to remove yourself from society. They WILL find you.

I lived near the Alaska border for some years, in a log cabin with a dirt floor and a hand-made fireplace that was 450 miles from the nearest village by dirt roads, and two days by boat to the nearest one-building establishment. It was bliss. Except that people still found me there, still trespassed, still stole and annoyed and harassed for no reason whatsoever. Spoiled rotten brats. I came to realize that there was no escape on this earth from spoiled rotten brats and if you could ask Monroe's soul, he'd tell you there's no relief after death either. The only relief you'll find lies in how you deal with them.

My brainiac friend, the 180 IQ guy, listened to me lament one day about some people or person or other that I was having ongoing problems with. He finally held the palm of one hand up in the air, facing me, over the table of the restaurant we were eating at, and asked me to put my palm up to his.

I thought it was weird but this friend was almost always weird, at least by the standards of my tiny brain, so I did it. He told me to push his hand away, just as I wanted to push my current tormentors away. He said to let it all out. Push them out of my life. So I did. I pushed hard, meaning to push him right back in his seat as a show of how much I hated those people. But before I could even get a good push going, there was nothing to push against. His hand was gone, completely withdrawn. There was only the air to push against. I pulled my hand back, puzzled.

I wasn't sure how to take that. He was a weird guy, but Jesus -- what was the point of this? What was the lesson?

He regarded me for a moment. I always thought he was smirking slightly at me, like a male Mona Lisa. I waited. Finally he said, "When they call, don't answer the phone.

As low as my IQ is, I got it.

These minions were in my life and in my face because they wanted to PUSH. They were Monroe's demons, looking for any shred of resistance. Go read a good definition for Internet trolls (cerebral sadists) and you'll understand more. They didn't care what they were pushing against, just so long as there was something to push against. Like the schoolyard bullies who trolled the halls of high school looking for trouble and they always, always found it, no matter how invisible you tried to make yourself. Even if you became a mouse, you were still a mouse, and that presented to them something to torment. But they couldn't attack nothingness. So.....become nothingness -- it's a frame of mind, not a look -- and they would quickly go away. When the fucking shitballs of the world come calling, don't answer the phone.

To become invisible to spoiled rotten brat assholes is difficult, yet it's not. It's a bit like the concept of "pulling yourself up by your own bootstraps". Clearly that's impossible. Yet it's not. I've done it. But I can't tell you how to do it (small brain and all). Work at it awhile and see what works. If you don't present something the spoiled rotten brat assholes can push against, they stagger off in search of something that will resist their insanity, and leave you in peace.

I've had limited success with that remedy over my lifetime because, apparently, my brain is not all that big and my soul not all that evolved. But I recognize it as the solution to all things asshole-ish. I just wish I was better at implementing it.

Who is a spoiled rotten brat?

Almost every politician on earth.

Kennedy (JFK) was my hero, but he was largely a spoiled rotten brat, like most Kennedys. Reagan, conversely, was NOT a spoiled rotten brat. He was a logical, humble, forthright, valuable human being. Is Trump a spoiled rotten brat? Pretty-much, yes. But he has some great policies. Biden? Terminally spoiled. Pelosi, -- let's not even go there. Is Obama spoiled? Obama is one of the most spoiled fools on earth. Cocky little son of as bitch and stupid to boot. Clever, yes. But profoundly unwise. Hitler? Spoiled rotten brat. All serial killers are spoiled rotten brats. I quit Federal law enforcement four lifetimes ago because most of my unit were spoiled rotten brats. What's the percentage of spoiled rotten brats in the world?

USA: About 75%.

SE Asia, about 15%.

China: About 85%.

Greenland? 15%.

Canada: 20%.

Mexico: 60%.

US cities?

Seattle, nearly 100%.

Salt Lake City, 50%.

Denver, 75%.

Washington D.C., 100%.

San Fransisco, 97%.

Los Angeles, 99%.

Phoenix pre-California invasion: 20%; post California takeover: 95%.

Portland, Oregon: 89%.

Fallon, Nevada: 90%.

Anchorage, Alaska? 75%.

Rifle, Colorado: 15%.

Hardly a scientific survey, but in the ballpark.

Murderers, rapists, arsonists, car-jackers, pedophiles, social-media moguls, liberal college professors, bankers, state and local law enforcement -- all 100% or bumping 100% spoiled rotten brats.

Federal law enforcement: 100%. Stinking drunk with power.

Conservative politicians: 86%.

Nancy Pelosi: so far off the charts as to be incalculable; she should be studied by the psychiatry profession for decades after her brain is dissected, assuming it's not just jello-impregnated steel wool.

Sometimes it's easy to identify the spoiled rotten brats living among us. Sometimes, like spotting a Body Snatcher, it's really hard until they come at you with some kind of dizzy bullshit.

Ever have any business interaction with Hollyweird? I have. There's barely a keeper in the entire bunch.

And sometimes some seemingly simple human being like the neighborhood plumber can turn out to be a spoiled rotten brat. They come in all shapes and sizes.

The places I most often run into spoiled rotten brats are in American convenience stores, late at night. Homey don do dat no mo'.

But they can be anywhere.

Older white man walks into a Filipino bar outside Manila. Filipino man and wife sitting at a table. Old man starts a pool game, then keeps eying the woman. Presently he walks over and asks her to go to his room. She declines. He offers to pay. She declines. He makes an ass of himself. Husband tells him to fuck off. White man takes his beer and pours it over the woman's head.

Shoot him in the fucking face with a .44 magnum? Yes, of course, and you should receive a bounty for one left ear to cover the cost of the bullet. SE Asia is absolutely teeming with human feces just like this and much worse. There's barely a white man worthy of breathing earth's air in this region. I no longer associate with them by a factor of 99.5%.

A friend came to visit me in SE Asia a few years ago. I'd known him for 30 years. He owned a successful upscale hair salon in downtown Seattle.

He wants to go to a prostitute bar, so I take him. We meet a middle aged woman on her first night. No English; not a word; not even hello. She had lost her food-stall job (paying $2.50 per 11 hour day) and her kids were literally hungry. This was the only option left to her but she was in complete and utter hell and truly didn't want to be there. If my friend took her for $25, he'd be her first customer ever.

They talked awhile while the mamasan patiently translated and he was the perfect gentleman. Finally he told her she was precisely what he was looking for all his life. He wanted to know if she'd go to America with him. I watched her eyes go wide. Like she'd won the lottery. It couldn't possibly happen, yet it had happened. She was speechless and began to cry, and between sobs she had the mamasan ask him, "You mean I can stop to work in the bar?" He nodded yes, and hugged her. She sobbed and sobbed.

He said he had to go take care of some things but he'd be back for her in the morning and they would go to the Embassy and start seeing about a VISA. She cried even more and was afraid to let him go. I had no idea what to think of this; the guy had never been anything but a stand-up man as long as I'd ever known him.

We got into a tuktuk and drove a few sois away, and he busted out laughing. I asked him what. He said, "Can you believe that shit? She actually believed me!" At that point I'd been in SE Asia nearly a decade and I knew every type of girl -- this one was a real one. Their command of English is often a give-away, but there are many other markers to watch. This one was real.

I stopped the tuktuk and kicked him out in the middle of nowhere. Never talked to him again. Fucking spoiled rotten brat. How ya doin', Rick?

People who beat women, and children, and pets, like my father, are spoiled rotten brats. Just human garbage. What is the legal definition of pornography? That which has "no redeeming social value". I might argue with that, but lots and lots of human beings in the world fit that definition to a "T". --Far more than most good and trusting people realize. And the number is growing exponentially. Just watch the evening news.

Take a moment or two and try to list the times non-spoiled brats have caused trouble of any kind, big or small, with anything or anyone, ever, anyplace. I dare you.

The person who is humble, polite, sincere, logical, thankful, reliable, decent, forgiving, and helpful, regardless of intelligence quotient score, is virtually unknown in the ranks of trouble-makers.

Virtually every ongoing social problem on earth traces back to Spoiled Rotten Brats. Think what the world might be without them.

Ah, but all types of beings serve SOME purpose in humanity? You can't have a rainbow without all the colors? Bullshit. The color of the spoiled rotten brat is black. Remove it from the rainbow and see what happens.

If I were a space alien with a powerful armada of amazing ships equipped with humongous ray guns and I was commanded to go to earth and make it a vastly better place, what strata of society would I target?

Where do we encounter the highest concentrations of flaming assholes and spoiled rotten brats?

On the roads, of course.

There are several reasons. It is said that when people drink, their inner personalities come out and I believe that's almost always true. And when people get into their cars, they think they're both anonymous and powerful -- kind of like when you're drinking.

There's also the stress component. As you're driving along, even at 30 mph, with the kids in the backseat playing games and chattering, a nice song on the radio, beautiful weather, no particular stressors in your life -- you don't knowingly have, say, cancer or hoovenmouth or rabies, and your job is going, well, more or less OK (except for your spoiled rotten brat boss), and your spouse hasn't cheated on you in awhile, and largely, life is pretty good. BUT-- whether you realize it or not you're under pretty significant stress from the certain knowledge that at any given instant over the next 60 seconds, you could be dead. Or mangled. Quadriplegic. Dismembered. Your family could be literally bleeding out before your eyes, convulsing, begging you to save them, telling you they love you --- there are a million, billion ways this can happen, and, as streets and roads get more and more crowded (how many Chinese in the US now?), it's no longer a matter of "if" something horrific can happen in an instant, it's a matter of when. Statistically, your odds of being in an accident in any 17 year period are....wait for hundred percent. That's for the average driver, putting on, maybe 40,000 miles in a year. I've driven way over 100,000 miles in semi-tractor-trailer big rigs (I was an instructor), and about 130,000 miles on motorcycles, and around 350,000 miles in cars. Aircraft and boats aren't counted in miles. I've had five accidents, none at-fault; two times hit by sober people, and three times hit by drunks. But if you're dead and mangled, it means not a whit if it was your fault or not. Your bones won't heal any faster if the other guy was drunk or at-fault or both.

The point is, you're subconsciously under tremendous stress all the time when driving, even though you may not know it. I've taken to tracking my heart rate on my iPhone when driving. I drive motorcycles all over SE Asia, where the fatality and accident rate is the highest in the world. I refused to drive there for the first year because it was clearly, obviously, a slaughterhouse. My heart rate is markedly elevated there, just driving to the store on a normal day, as I ride over chalk outline after chalk outline after chalk outline on the pavement beneath my wheels, illustrating the fatalities that happened there only since the last rain. That in itself ain't good for the stress levels!

Horses appear to be mostly calm creatures. --Just moseying around, munching grass, swishing their tails, but the truth is they're being bombarded by all kinds of stressors that are invisible to most people. Only after a lifetime of fooling with them do I recognize the signs of a horse beginning to stress out. They give off signals very, very early in the process and if you can spot them, you're money ahead when working with equines. If you can't read the signs of a horse stressing out, you'll be shocked when it explodes. If you CAN read the signs, you can almost always avert an episode. That's true of humans too.

Maybe you've got your pony in the barn, brushing it out. It seems perfectly calm and happy. But if your horse had a gauge on its forehead, you could read the stress levels unceasingly going up and down, depending on countless factors within its sphere of awareness. Maybe there's a kid riding a bike 80 yards away, and his red jacket is flapping in the breeze. The horse sees this because horses are superb at scanning for and assessing threats in the wild. After all, they don't have claws -- they're at a disadvantage to almost every predator, except for their ability to run. Many horse's stressors go up slightly just being tied up. They know they can't run, and so they're vulnerable. Domestic horses are mostly OK with this, but not some others who have spent some portion of their lives out on the range, running and escaping as a matter of routine life. Maybe your horse has some perceived problem with red flapping jackets. Sometimes a horse's fears are all in its head but that doesn't make it any less uncomfortable. I rode a horse for many years that was terrified of big black stumps. Maybe he had had a bad experience with a bear in his years out on the open ranges of southern Colorado. --Didn't matter. He was still plenty scared of big black stumps and all my efforts over many years to desensitize him to that were only partially successful.

So your kindly bronc is in your barn, gazing contentedly outside while you brush him down, and he spies that dastardly little brat on the bike with the flapping red jacket. That potential threat is 80 yards away, and the horse knows he can easily outrun it, and it's not a HUGE threat anyway, because the red jacket he had a bad experience with didn't actually jump on his back and try to rip his throat out, but still... That flapping red jacket thing goes into a category in the back of his mind as something to keep an eye on, just in case, and he won't forget about it for quite some time. If that damned red jacket pops up again 30 minutes later, the horse is thinking, holy shit -- that's that Goddamned red jacket again. It MUST be up to something to keep skulking around like this. And so the stress of that red jacket might be increased by .5%. You might never notice how this has raised his stress level, but it has, if only slightly.

Next, a loud car passes by out on the highway. No one likes loud cars, especially animals with great hearing. That adds just a tiny bit to his stress level.

Maybe some assholes over in the next ranchette start popping off little .22 caliber rounds. Maybe shooting a snake. Maybe shooting a marauding coyote after their chickens, maybe only drunken assholes making noise for fun (spoiled rotten brats). That gets added to the little shreds of stress that are swirling around in the back of your horse's brain. You still don't notice his discomfort.

Maybe a friend has parked a ways away on your property and suddenly pops around the corner of the barn, right in front of your horse. That startles him a little. If not for the kid with the red flapping jacket and the rude car and the punks next door shooting whatever, the neighbor popping in to say high wouldn't really be a factor for the horse, but since he is subconsciously weighing these other things, and a dozen other things you can't even identify, the neighbor startles him pretty good. The horse is thinking, holy shit -- that little fucker on the bike, and those assholes shooting guns, and that fuckhead in the loud car, and I might have seen a snake a few minutes ago, and that dog was looking at me in not a nice way when I was in the stall (where is that coyote now?), and I didn't sleep all that well last night because there was a LOT OF GODDAMNED MUSIC FROM YOUR HOUSE -- and then, and THEN, this son of a bitch JUMPS at me from around the corner of the barn? Well fuck this shit. I wasn't cut out for this. I'm outta here.

And the horse panics a little, jerks back on the tie-downs, realizes he's TRAPPED LIKE A RAT and so panics all the more. Then, maybe you have on your hands a full-blown blow-up.

Most of these perceived stresses can be trained out of a horse, but not all, and it depends on the horse, too. They're not all stamped from a cookie cutter.

The point is that humans are quite a bit like equines in some ways. Your stress levels while driving can be far higher than you realize, and that can cause you to react to situations in inappropriate ways.

I was at a small airport once -- I owned a helicopter logging operation and we were refueling at the end of the day. A sport pilot in some kind of prissy little Cessna landed and pulled up to the fuel pump. The yuppy jumped out and started frantically scrambling around, JERKING open his fuel filler, getting his fuel stick then throwing it back behind the seat because the fuel level didn't matter anyway as he was going to fill the tanks, getting his logbook, accidentally dropping it on the ground, almost glaring at us as though that could make the stove-oil flow faster through those hoses so we'd GET THE HELL OUT OF HIS WAY. This guy was a bomb whose fuse had already been lit. He was in no condition to fly.

We walked over to him and in a friendly manner, apologized for taking so long (we burned 40 gallons an hour, so we needed a lot of diesel) and, smiling, we very calmly asked him if he was late for something.

He said yes, he needed to get out to another airport that was located on a sandbar about 20 minutes away but he'd needed fuel, and it was starting to get dark, and the airport had no lights, and he had never flown at night before, and he only had twenty hours in this aircraft, and his wife and kids were waiting for him because they had a dinner appointment and they had no money on them and -- hell, his cat was probably pregnant and his dog had mange and his kid just got a bad report card and -- and who knows what other stressors were picking away at his calm.

We explained that he seemed "a little agitated" (actually, near panic) and that he was in no condition to be flying at that particular moment, and we purposely delayed him there for a full five minutes, just talking, watching his breathing slow and become more regular, and finally we explained that this 5 minutes wasn't going to affect the light level on the runway, and even if he waited 20 more minutes, the flight could still be done safely, and we just generally soothed him for five full minutes. At the end of it he looked up at us and smiled, and said, "You know, you just saved my life." And we said, "Yes, we know. Have a nice flight." And he did -- we checked -- and he landed safely and met his family and all was well with the world for him, and for us.

Many people, when they drive, allow themselves to become stressed to exactly that point and they aren't even aware of it -- and on top of all that, there's the knowledge that it's very, very possible some drunken spoiled rotten brat will hit them and kill them before they even get to 7-11. That's a huge baseline of stress. The level of stress is in the same category as combat. It can turn an otherwise reasonable human being into an unreasonable, unreasoning, illogical, spoiled rotten brat with an attitude.

In traffic confrontations it's sometimes difficult to see, at first glance, exactly which party is the spoiled rotten asshole. Sometimes it's both. So let's look at some scenarios:

You're driving down the highway, happy, calm, sober, aware, and a car is merging from an on-ramp or other access. Instead of speeding up to get in front of you, or slowing down to merge behind you, he tries to merge right into the side of you. You honk and swerve, barely avoiding a wreck. The jerk ignores you and goes away.

Was anybody a spoiled rotten brat in this case? Probably not. The bad driver was probably just stupid. Who knows if he understood his error, but he didn't make an issue of the encounter (maybe because he was DUI and didn't want the drama). You went on your way. He went on his way. This is the real world. Shit happens. Dismiss it. You made it through Monroe's layer. Congratulate yourself.

You're driving down the highway, happy, calm, sober, aware, and a car is merging from an on-ramp or other access. Instead of speeding up to get in front of you, or slowing down to merge behind you, he tries to merge right into the side of you. You honk and swerve, barely avoiding a wreck. The jackass then either rides your ass, or stomps on his brakes if he's in front of you. His middle finger is in the air. He lays on his horn, maybe swerves at you once or twice before moving on to go harass someone else.

Was anybody a spoiled rotten brat here? Of course. The jackass was. He made a stupid mistake that was easily avoidable if he had two fucking brain cells to rub together to create a little heat. But he didn't use them. Maybe he only had one. He nearly killed you and maybe others, and then, spoiled shit-hole that he is, he tried to put the blame on YOU, just like he did one million times when his mommy quietly asked him to stop kicking the underside of the dinner table and he ignored her or told her to fuck off. He's a spoiled rotten brat. Many years, ago, if you stopped this fool and kicked his ass, he still wouldn't learn anything because brats are mostly beyond learning, but law enforcement wouldn't bother with it either. They exercised common sense. Today, the SWAT team would be instantly deployed if you did that, and if you weren't shot on sight, you'd be arrested and tied up in courts until your money, and your freedom, was gone. The instigator would never be charged with anything, not even careless driving, not even if you had video. That's today's world. It works in favor of spoiled rotten brats who cause these problems.

I was sitting on my porch decades ago. My wife was washing her car in her own driveway. A twenty-something airhead on a dirt bike somehow made it through some brush adjacent to our property and then onto our property and then came onto our driveway next to the house. He sped past my wife, knocking her down and into a blackberry patch, then he stopped, looked back at her on the ground, laughed, hit the gas and sprayed her with gravel, and sped off. I happened to be twirling the keys to my own far faster motorcycle which was parked eight feet from me. By the time I got down the stairs my wife was up and telling me to GO, so I did. I caught him two blocks away at a stop sign. I stopped, and told him he had just committed a hit and run and to stop and wait for the police. He got off his bike and walked up to me, snarling, "What do you want you fucking asshole?" Spoiled little banty rooster. I hit the top of his full-face helmet with the butt of my open hand to drive him back and away from me. I told him to never come through my driveway again. He was mumbling something as I turned around and drove home.

We immediately called the police and gave them his plate, and sat back to wait. 30 minutes later the police arrived and arrested me for "unlawful use of hands". Not assault. Just unlawful use of hands. My wife demanded that they arrest the hit and run driver as well. They declined, saying her sticker scratches didn't look serious enough and there were no broken bones. Of course the punk had no sticker scratches or broken bones either.

I made several court appearances at great cost. At the eventual trial, the judge looked at the documents, laughed, and said case dismissed. I didn't even testify.

During this time I had worked aggressively and tirelessly to force a criminal complaint against this punk. It was ignored again and again and again. I began writing registered letters to the prosecutor who was refusing to file the case. After seven months and about 15 unanswered letters, he replied to say he wasn't filing any charges because, quote, "You have punished this man enough."

You wonder how the US could ever arrive at a place where all the Liberal cities could be systematically dismantled and burned and no one did a Goddamned thing to stop it? This is how the US got there. It was in the works a long, long time while intelligent people were too busy working to support a shitload of failed liberal programs.

That's one of about seventy three thousand reasons I no longer live in the US. It has gone insane, boiling over with spoiled rotten brats, far too many of whom are protected by authorities with the means to tamp down some of the lawlessness and insanity, but who steadfastly refuse to do so, and no one understands why. I have too many stories like this to tell, as does absolutely every other citizen reading this. The world has turned upside down -- at least the North American world. Other parts of the world aren't quite there yet, but they're trying very, very hard to become as loony as everyone else. It's straight out of Invasion of the Body Snatchers. And every single bit of it is due to spoiled rotten brats. The people instigating the problems are SRBs, and the prosecutors who protect them are the same scum. Judges let them slide. Prisons let them out early. America is now a write-off. It's said, " the impossibility of reason." America is now Hell. And the police are being disbanded.

I say something like that has potential.

They were far too often the cause of the problems anyway.

But don't defund them; retrain them (drastically, extensively and exhaustively) and cull the turds and the spoiled rotten brats (no shortage of turds and brats to cull from American law enforcement) -- that alone would reduce their ranks by 50%; then you can begin to carefully replenish the stocks with competent, professional, properly trained humans. Are there enough quality people on earth to do this job? I wonder; I'm doubtful. But this strategy will never be done effectively -- trust me, it will never, ever be done, so now the world is in for one hell of a Prime Time show. Stay home. Hide. Draw down the blackout curtains just as the nation did in WWII to keep the bad people from finding them at night and killing them. Pop your popcorn. Let's call it, "Prime Time Primates".

In many neighborhoods you'll be reduced to installing wall-sized steel plates inside your homes so you can merely watch TV in peace. When you hear the ting-ting of bullets hitting the plates, you know there are bad people near. An uncle used to buy and refurbish homes in bad neighborhoods. He seldom got a home that wasn't riddled with bullet holes. ALL neighborhoods are destined to become "bad" neighborhoods.

Will this social catastrophe ever get turned around? I don't believe it will -- certainly not in our lifetimes. Bad times and better times will wax and wane, and there's no way to (1) stop spoiled rotten brats from being born, and (2) retrain them once they've been born and spoiled. The world is seeing a new kind of spoiled.

Law enforcement will never be operated at the level it needs to be. Too many social misfits want to be cops and can trick the psych evaluations. They makes the public hate ALL police. The few good ones are disgusted -- disgusted by a complete lack of backup from their pathetic "leaders", and disgusted by the stunningly low quality of their fellow officers. Those are both reasons I quit Federal law enforcement after only two years. Many are also disgusted by a new crop of criminal coming up in the world -- emboldened, trained to kill easily by a lifetime of blood-bath video games and society-killing movies like "Natural Born Killers" and a million others, jaw-droppingly amoral, motherfuckingly stupid, smart-mouthed, smart-assed, illogical Goddamned punks.

On the one side, you have 45% of the population that is made up of that element described above, and worse. On the other side, you have 45% of a law enforcement community made up, in large part, of the same mentality, just a bit more structured.

I used to say there were two kinds of people in Alaska. Alaska wasn't really populated by the white man until a century ago. Now it's overflowing with what I still call "newbies". I lived in northern Canada and Alaska for years. The Canadians were born and bred to the wilderness. It was a normal environment for them. They existed there, and thrived, as normal people who just happened to live in exceedingly sparsely populated regions. But Alaska -- it got filled up with people who had never experienced "the wilderness" before, especially during the damnable pipeline years, and once set free in what they perceived to be a land where anything goes (because they'd never seen SPACE before), they made sure anything went.

So I used to say, Alaska is made up of two kinds of people:

(1) Those who were/are just wild fucking animals. Punks. Jackasses. Criminals. Killers. Thieves. Rapists. Child molesters. Armed robbers, Fools. Crazies. and worse, all given license to be as berserk as they want in the "wilderness". They were/are just too damned mentally unfit to survive in any kind of society. They MUST be off by themselves, or society would kill them.

And (2) People who were so sick of the artificial constraints of a smug and silly society, a dishonest, helpless society, an unintelligent society, a prissy, hapless, frankly dumb-ass Edward Scissor-hands society, that they simply couldn't survive in, say, the lower Forty Eight. They HAD to be off by themselves, or they'd pop a cork and start offing society's rabid animals. The Punks. The Jackasses. Criminals. Killers. Thieves. Rapists. Child molesters. Armed robbers, Fools. Crazies. and worse.

Both met up in Alaska.

Both mostly keep their distance from one another because, thank you God, there's enough space to do so. Mostly. Usually.

In the lower forty eight states, these two factions are beginning to coalesce into more identifiable sides. Decent law enforcement on one side. Bad and worsening criminals on the other side. And in the middle, where society's leaders used to live, you now have a growing vacuum. No strong, good people stepping up to fill it, because the instant they do, they're set upon by the idiotic "Cancel Culture" and labeled far and wide and loudly as racists and kitten rapers and Nazis and racists again -- until they just put up their hands, shake their heads at the insanity, and back away, then go buy an abandon missile silo in Northern Montana. This will not sort itself out soon.

Decades ago a man wrote up a report claiming he had a conversation with space aliens. Probably it was some bad whiskey -- it was long before LSD. But the supposed conversation was interesting. After talking to the critters for some time he asked them, why don't you just land on the lawn of the White-house and say hello, here we are, we'd like to have coffee and talk? The aliens, he said, answered thus: Why don't YOU just go walk into the nearest insane asylum and announce that you're there, and you'd like to have coffee and talk?

Liberals will make this impasse between productive society and anarchists unimaginably worse by wringing their pasty, noodly hands and catering to the anarchists. They're scared of them. And these are the spoiled mommies who spoiled their kids to such an extent that absolutely no one can stomach the rotten brats, not even their mommies.

Conservatives will make it unimaginably worse by coming in with sledge hammers and fire-breathing dragons and stomping down the spoiled rotten little brats. But today's spoiled rotten brats are light years beyond redemption. They can not learn or be taught or be disciplined. They'll be spoiled rotten brats until death. In response to anyone forcing them to sit up straight and fly right, they'll take out their childish, screeching rage on innocent people and businesses. Portland, anyone? Your town soon, anyone?

Tombstone, Arizona was a tiny forerunner of Chicago, DC, Seattle -- The town was drowning in crime and corruption. It had virtually stopped to function. So they brought in some kick-ass law enforcement by the name of Wyatt Earp, and a small handful of others. The good people of Tombstone simply needed their town back. So Earp delivered. He knew instinctively the spoiled rotten brats who were devouring the settlement weren't redeemable. So he killed them. Once after another after another, he simply removed them from the equation. The town fought him hammer and tong, even as it improved, and they indicted him dozens of times on murder charges (all dropped), and in the end fired him and effectively ran him out of town. But they got their town back.

Would it take anything short of that in America today? It's probably exactly what's required, but of course it will never happen. So let's see how it plays out over the next fifty years.

Think of the last 20 movies you've watched. How many could not exist as a story if there were no spoiled rotten brats? I'm thinking about 70%. That's the extent to which spoiled rotten brats erode our society.

Toxic bosses are finally coming to light in American society. It's about time. They've been around forever. But finally people are just barely....beginning to wake up to the damage they cause to the human soul and to the bottom line of industry and commerce as a whole. Toxic bosses are, of course, spoiled rotten fucking brats. They are some of the worst in the world, because they have power. They have the power to ruin your life utterly at their airy fairy whim. In many states toxic bosses do NOT have to explain or account for their spoiled rotten decisions. Think you can sue for wrongful termination? Think again. Like politicians, they have big, big power, and very, very often, tiny, tiny brains. You think YOUR boss is bad? Unless s/he actually raped your mother and killed your children and BBQ'd your dog, then your boss is better than THIS boss.

Spoiled brat bosses make up a huge portion of the overall spoiled brat problem that's plaguing (ruining) the United States and, to a slightly lesser degree, the world. Often, the only recourse you have against a spoiled rotten boss is to out them publicly on a website. Unfortunately, most spoiled brats can't be embarrassed into straightening up and flying right because, after all, they're far more special than you and as such, immune to decency, logic, humility and honor and utterly exempt from ever, ever being wrong (why, their mommies told them so a gazillion times, sweet, precious little pumpkins that they are, right Jim Acosta?).

Consult a First Amendment attorney before proceeding if you choose this route. When done correctly, they can NOT sue you for the content. Period. And it's not only your right, it's your social responsibility to help your community see what they're up against, should they desire to apply for work at a company that hires, supports and coddles a toxic spoiled brat of a boss. Will you lose your job if you do that? Of course, because the First Amendment doesn't protect you from retaliation of that sort from spoiled rotten brats. The First Amendment only protects you from the legal liability of stating facts and voicing opinions. The Cancel Culture wants to say THEIR peace, but will hurt you if it can, outside of the law, when you say YOUR peace. Spoiled rotten brats are card-carrying members in good standing of the Cancel Culture

Question: Is every single member of the Cancel Culture Club (CCC) a spoiled rotten brat?

Answer: Yes. Every single member of the Cancel Culture Club is a spoiled rotten brat. Period. No exceptions.

That is some of the most illogical, irresponsible, downright stupid behavior occurring within human nature on this planet today. It's sickening, and actually, viscerally frightening in its implications.

Take 100 people.

30 of them join together to share a particular opinion and they voice it.

Instantly, they are shut down by a small percentage of those 100 people who don't share that opinion. The cancel culture doesn't really want to just shut those people up -- they are, in reality, trolls, and they thrive (thrive) on bashing people. In their hearts, they want those people so thoroughly silenced that they effectively no longer exist. Cancel Culture Fools don't do this so much because they morally disagree with any particular opinion -- they are simply sadistic trolls who thrive on inflicting tiny little wounds to anyone and everyone they can. The Cancel Culture was born in Monroe's "layer", and they will never evolve beyond it.

So, the Cancel Culture in our skit has not only shut down that opinion shared by 30 of their own community, they've actually wished them into the corn. They're toast. They're gone. We won't speak of them again because they no longer exist. The Cancel Culture has won -- at least they won this particular round.

Now you have 70 people left from the original group of 100. And again 40 more of that group has coalesced around a new idea and, idiots that they are, they've articulated that shared viewpoint publicly.

BAM! The cancel Culture goes to work in very short order and denounces that opinion and all who share it in spectacular and fiery fashion. In minutes, 40 more of that group is canceled. Gone. Moot. Evaporated. Teleported into the corn. We won't speak of them again because they no longer exist.

Not too long after this horrific event, 15 more of that same group rally around a shared opinion. You know how this is going to go. Whammo-- in 23 seconds the Cancel Culture has incinerated their souls. Now you have 15 people left out of the original 100. No matter. That's enough, right? 15 people in the world is enough. Of course it is.

In due time 9 of that group expresses a more or less shared opinion.

SUCKO -- They're gone. --Wished to someplace far beyond the corn.

Now there are 6.

4 of those get together and voice the notion that, hey, maybe this cancel culture thing is, well, sort of, not so--- and ZIPPETY-BOOM, those 6 no longer exist.

How many are left?

The two remaining fools fight over each other's opinion until one cancels and/or kills the other.

And then there was one.

That one jumps off a cliff because there's no one left in the world to humiliate, cancel and ruin, and fighting was their life's-blood.

Now you have rocks and soil and water and wind. And none of those things give a rat's flying fuck what you do.

Nice job, dipshits.

The thing is, when any sane, even semi-intelligent human being (IQ 65?) thinks about the whole concept of "canceling" the views of others, it usually takes no longer than eleven seconds for them to play the above scenario out in their heads and see how it ends. And that ends any interest they may have had in joining the Cancel Culture Club. Smarter people will figure this out in more like four seconds of elementary thought. Lots of people "get it" when they're six years old. Unfortunately, the world is seeing, now, gobs and gobs of snowflake adults (spoiled rotten brats) who, while chronologically aged to their twenties and beyond, didn't evolve beyond age six.

The dyed-in-the-wool little trolling sadists have invested their entire lives in this philosophy. Think about the university professors who faithfully teach their brainless students to shut down speeches by people whose ideas MIGHT differ from those of the professors. I say MIGHT because they don't even bloody KNOW until they've HEARD THE WORDS. But who cares? Shut 'em down. Who wants to learn? Who wants to expand their life-experience? NO ONE. Because spoiled rotten brats already know everything in life. Right? Right.

Bash the hell out of these speakers if you want, and I'll protect to the death your right to voice your dissent. But do it AFTER you've heard them and do it BASED ON WHAT THEY SAID, not on what you think they MIGHT say. How fucking stupid are you for Christ's sake? To wish them into the corn before they even speak is down on the level of a one cell amoeba. Truly. It's no smarter than that.

Do you remember the logic Charlie Manson said he used to justify the killing or Sharon Tate and the others? Look it up. The secret, tortured logic the Cancel Culture Trolls use to justify ruining your life, business, marriage, prospects, career, hopes and dreams is, I promise, exactly as mindless as what Charlie came up with. Charlie came up with this crap after the fact, to try to cover for the reality that he simply liked slaughtering innocent people. The Cancel Culture pieces of shit look for a bandwagon to jump on first, one that holds the promise of inflicting great harm upon any person or group, and then their twisted little brains will search for a justification. And they won't search hard, either, because it doesn't really matter if their actions are all that justified. All that matters is that they got to inflict some pain, and by golly, it was really, really fun.

It's immensely entertaining for normal, rational, decent people, people whose faces aren't slathered with cheap tattoos and who aren't blocking traffic in the streets, shirtless, screeching and spitting and gyrating and spilling beer, to watch the spoiled brats of the Cancel Culture begin to eat their own. Now they're all calling to stop their own Cancel Culture, not because of the rotten, selfish, childish troll-behavior of the spoiled rotten Cancel Culture brats, but because each and every one of them has finally woken up to the grim certainty that they might be next. And indeed they will.

There will always be spoiled rotten brats and there will always be a Cancel Culture of sorts (there always has been), but when either one starts getting out of control, like cheap garden weeds, sensible people are duty-bound to trim 'em back.

We see people, politicians, celebrities (even though it's usually "celebrities" acting like spoiled brats), businesses -- it seems nearly everyone is bowing to the spoiled Cancel Culture brats. Why do they do it? Because they're weak. They're utterly spineless and ineffectual. They're limp-wristed wimps.

When you take your four year old to the mall for the first time, and s/he wants a toy, and you're not interested in buying it for them, and they decide it's time to try a stunt they saw the neighbor kid pull, and they fall to the tile floor making the throngs swirl around you and they commence to scream and wail and cry and hold their breath and maybe bang their little heads on the tile until they realize that hurts too much -- so they go back to screaming and wailing and -- what do you do? The spoiled brats and Cancel Culture Kiddies exist today because too many parents, mortified to have instantly become a colossal spectacle right there in the middle of the Christmas crowds, decide to cut their losses and pick the little bastard up and tell them it's OK, OK, OK, don't worry, mommy and daddy will buy you the toy -- and BINGO. The child has just become a brat.

That's precisely why the spoiled rotten Cancel Culture of today is gaining traction. Far too many politicians, businesses, and private citizens are choosing to do exactly that, every time these snowflake jackasses start up their machine.

When your kids collapses into a ranting pile of embarrassment in the mall, walk away. Watch them from a safe distance, but walk away. Let them wail and scream alone, right there in front of everybody. When they sit up and realize you're gone, the BS will instantaneously stop. If they do it again, then walk away again. If you catch this early, it will only take a few episodes to cure them for life. But if you give in even one time, you've created a fucking monster who will test you for the rest of their life, and even if you don't ever give in again, they'll test others forever, and you'll be directly responsible for degrading the quality of the society you live in. Thanks for that. We sure as hell didn't need it.

Spoiled rotten brats? Did someone mention spoiled rotten brats in the same sentence with black lives matter?




Work in progress as of July 24, 2020