Is your dog a Spoiled Brat?

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This editorial web page contains and includes my opinions, suspicions, hunches, best recollections, etc.
All content contained herein is cleared by my First Amendment attorney.
Would you like to sue me? Go for it.
This website is Copyright (c) 2020 by "SpoiledRottenBrats.com". All rights reserved. This work may not be duplicated in whole or in part without express written permission. We've had national magazines steal and publish work in the past; in all cases we sued and won cash awards. We're ready and willing to do it again. We don't like spoiled rotten thieves. Do you?
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Let's talk more about WHO is a spoiled rotten brat, and what makes them that.

I've said that nearly every ill society is burdened by comes from spoiled rotten brats. The little bit that doesn't fall under that umbrella is caused by the insane. Society is positively teeming with the insane -- all varieties and grades and levels of it.

Man walks into a school and shoots 27 innocent children -- that's insane. The shooter is ALSO a spoiled rotten brat because he believes his insane whim is more important than anything else in this realm of existence. But first and foremost he's insane, and that gets him off the hook, at least legally.

What about the child rapist? Is he insane? I say "he" because it's almost exclusively a HE. Not always. But almost always.

Is the pedophile a spoiled brat, or does he dodge the title because he's "insane"?

He's a spoiled brat. He's not insane because there is a reason and a logic to what he does. He wants to feel a variety of things that he has no business feeling, and at the expense of other human beings. THAT makes him a spoiled brat. The school shooter has NO logical reason to do what he does. But the pedophile does.

I live in a part of the world beyond rife with scammers. The clerks at the local convenience store will VERY OFTEN try to short your change. They do it because they want the money. Are they spoiled brats?

Ye--. Er, N--.

It's not always entirely clear.

In a developed country, they would be brats. Like any crook or thief, they're putting their own selfish DESIRES before the needs and rights of others in their society.

The trouble is, in my part of the world, most of them really do NEED that money, and they need it more than I do. The average wage here for a factory worker is three dollars a day. Don't worry, I proof-read that. It's not a misprint. Yes, the year is 2020. It's $3 a DAY. They get horrible medical coverage, if any -- I mean there's really not any point in having it, it's so worthless. Even if their doctors will let them in the hospital door, they're as likely to kill them as not.

Some years back, an American health monitoring group noticed by chance that the people in a particular village were dying far faster than in surrounding villages. They investigated. It took time to root out the cause, during which the community kept dropping dead. Of HIV.

Oh, well, you think -- a bunch of WAY-TOO-ACTIVE young sprites having WAY TOO MUCH FUN.

But the dead included infants and the elderly, straight across all groups.

Turned out the one doctor in the town, an American trained imbecile, had been using THE SAME NEEDLE for virtually all purposes, FOR A GENERATION. Apparently he didn't even clave it.

Somewhere along the line he stuck an HIV patient, and that ignited the fire. It burned for, as I said, a generation. Think of it. He's in jail now. The dead are still dead.

That's one of the wonders of socialized medicine. Now, all in unison, say, THANK YOU UNCLE JOE AND AUNTIE CAMEL-A. Because that bullshit is now YOUR future in the USA.

Point is, the pittance of medical coverage that the people here receive, is not worth having.

Here's another story.

I had an acquaintance up in the north part of this country, closer to China. I never got to know him well, but he was one of those people that you KNEW would be a lifelong friend. But he lived in the north and I lived far south and we just never got enough time together. Strong, vibrant, personable, hard working, giving young man of just over 30.

He developed a kidney stone. Common here.

He waited forever, because just about every person he ever knew, who went to the hospital (jungle outpost clinic) 60 miles away in "the city", (the city to him), had never come home. The doctors killed them.

But he was desperate, and so he begged a ride and went.

Doctor diagnosed him and operated.

I'm not sure how they arrived at the conclusion to open him up, but they did. They removed the stone(s).

Done deal.

He came home to his three-sided lean-to in the bush, with his young family -- wife, and 13 year old daughter.

But he just couldn't seem to get better. Days, weeks, turned into months. They called the hospital numerous times -- they had to walk about 300 meters down a jungle trail to find one-bar of cell service. The doctor told him to come back in, and so he did, and they gave him IV ABS for a couple of days, then sent him home again. The journey to the clinic was a huge problem, because few people in his village had a vehicle reliable enough to take him, and regardless, all vehicles need gas. He was working on a farm earning about $1.50 per day.

Once home, he got worse again. They went down the trail as usual, called the clinic, and begged for help. The hospital told him to put beta-dine on it, and sent out some oral antibiotics on a passing bus, 20 clicks out on the main highway. He managed to get those meds, and took them properly over the next 6-8 weeks.

Had I been there, even not being a doctor of humans, I could have diagnosed him in five seconds: Peritonitis; an infection of the abdominal lining, a result of the operation. It's incredibly common here and I've helped numerous friends with it. All survived, with proper cleaning and care.

By the time they called me, he was deathly ill. I advised them to get him to the hospital without even one more day of delay, and they did that.

The doctor took him immediately into surgery. When he came out, the family asked if he would be OK now -- had the doctor removed anything? The doctor said he had removed "almost everything" (quote), and offered to give him an injection then and there to put him to sleep permanently.

The family was stunned, and they refused, and took him home. There was zero hope for any recovery.

I went up north then, and sat with him in the family bed, which consisted of two sheets of a kind of plywood you find here, supported by stones and pieces of bricks, and surrounded by three walls made of corrugated tin, with a tin roof that was rusted through in many places so there were only certain places you could sleep when it rained.

The temperature hovered around 95f., day and night, with monsoon rains. There was a 10 inch fan that worked intermittently.

His wife and daughter stayed with him every single second and tended to absolutely any and every need. I made a few trips in to the the clinic to obtain various meds. Toward the end, his pain levels were through the roof. I took my girlfriend back to the clinic and she simply said she was his friend, and even without ID, they gave her half a grocery bag of morphine.

He was extremely moved that I had come to see him.

When he went into a semi coma I sat with him for eight days through that heat, while his wife and daughter sat cross-legged on the plywood because they didn't own any chairs, and swatted flies and dabbed his lips and helped him take tiny sips of the 30 or so beverages I had brought from the bigger village, and changed his diapers. And then he passed.

Once again, this is the direction Uncle Joe will head America in. Why? Because he's a fucking imbecile. Will the US ever get this bad? No. Because it has a century-long head-start of intelligent (mostly) medicine. But why backtrack AT ALL? No one can answer that except the silly, mindless socialists. Yes, everyone will have "care". Sort of. But that care will be so horrifically bad as to be a negative value in too many instances.

In any case, the point of this story was this:

Imagine you're that daughter, and your papa is dying in your shed, and he's thirsty on those occasions when he still wakes up for a moment, but he doesn't like anything you have to offer, and he can't keep down anything he does try, and so you get a neighbor to take you on their broken bike to a little jungle store, and you only have enough change to buy one little carton of one drink, but you don't know if papa will drink that one thing, or if he can keep it down any better than anything else you've tried, and you don't have any more money to get another thing if he can't drink what you choose.

You're standing there in that tiny, dirty, unlit roadside store, swatting flies in the summer heat, trying to decide which little carton to gamble your change on, tears streaking rivulets through the dust on your face, and you're 13 years old, and your papa has never died before, and he's never needed you like this before, and NO ONE has ever needed you like this before, and you don't know what to do because this is a really, really big decision, and you see a rich white man come in and buy a big box of ice cold beer, and money is literally falling out of his fat wallet, and as he walks up front to pay, you see a small wad of strange looking bills on the floor -- I saw it; it might have been six bucks -- and you know it's from the man, and you know you should run and give it to him, but you hesitate, because maybe that money could buy something your papa could drink, and maybe he could still live with you one or two more days if he could only drink something, and so you cry all the harder and you wish to Buddha or God or anyone that someone could take this burden from you because it's crushing you to the ground.

And so I gave her fifty dollars US for every beverage in the cooler. It didn't really help. He couldn't drink more than a sip of any of it. But no matter.

The girl was going to keep the money that had fallen out of the rich man's pocket. Would that have made her a spoiled rotten brat?

No.

It would have made her the bravest daughter in the world, because she was willing to sell her soul to try to help her papa.

So.

When we talk about "some" people scamming you, SOME aren't spoiled brats. But if they don't NEED the money they're taking from another person, they're a spoiled rotten brat, and also a thief. Sadly, this describes somewhere around 98.63% of all scammers on earth.

Are politicians spoiled brats? Almost completely, straight across the board. It's exceedingly rare that a politician or wannabe politician has anyone's best interests at heart except their own -- true from the top to the bottom and back to the top. They're also conceited, egotistical jackasses, even the females. Camel-a Heels-Up Harris, anyone?

Sometimes, in order to get votes, they try to convince themselves they're altruistic, at least a little, but they aren't, and if they tell themselves that enough, any weak mind will begin to believe the mantra. But they're still spoiled brats. Politicians need to be people who are immensely capable, but who don't WANT to be politicians. If they WANT IT, they're automatically suspect.

That's kind of a rule of thumb here in Asia. If an Asian girl is seeking out a western man (or western men), it's not usually because they find them particularly irresistible. They have a motive in mind. I tell every friend who comes to visit me -- if the local girls are following you and singling you out while bypassing and ignoring all kinds of perfectly great guys from their own culture, run. Run as fast as you can until they can't find you again.

And that's my advice to people who might be tempted to vote for selfish shitholes who CRAVE the power of politics. Pathetic, embarrassing Hillary Clinton, anyone? When those fuckers cry for your vote, RUN. I think Humpty-Trump had your best interests at heart to the degree of, perhaps, 20% (his born-again followers would say 110%). The rest of his motivation was selfish. How does that rank among all other politicians in America today? I've seldom seen higher.

Biden's level of altruism for his fellow man isn't zero -- it's a deep negative number. Any "good" thing he purports to support is pure script-writing to try to hold onto his power. I positively guarantee it. Stake my life on it. Stake my childrens' livfes on it. Stake YOUR childrens' lives on it -- oops, you already have. Camel-a's level is another deep minus value; what a Goddamned waste of flesh and oxygen. Don't worry, that'll become clear to even the very dumbest, in time.

JFK's level of altruism was perhaps 40%.

Reagan was a tie.

Bush #1? 30%.

Bush #2? 10%.

Obama? I actually think Obama had some good intentions. Unfortunately, he was so incredibly inept and out of tune with any semblance of American society outside his bubble, that he ended up utterly and embarrassingly ineffective. Gotta hold a real job at least ONCE in your pathetic, protected, myopic, whiny, make-believe life before becoming a "leader", Obama. Mow a fucking lawn, change a tire in the rain, climb a high mountain, fly an aircraft well -- learn about the real, physical, hands-on, nuts and bolts world and its INSTANT consequences for stupid fuck-ups before becoming The Boss of an academic, theoretical world where no matter how badly your screw it up, Obama, you can lie and spin your way out of it mostly, and any consequences are years or decades down the road. It oughta be a law, like it is in some countries.

Michelle's level of altruism? 1%. She was just a horsey old party gal who dreamed of big things, as long as they were easy to attain. And if they weren't easy to attain? Well then, fuck America.

Are cops spoiled brats? Not to the degree that politicians are. A lot of them, from my own family as well, truly went into law enforcement deeply desiring to do good things, to help people, to make positive changes in society. What percentage of newbie cops are like that? I estimate 40%. The rest are authority-craving louts who way too often inexplicably squeak through the psych exams. But most of those few could-be-good-ones get unwittingly (or wittingly) corrupted by a bad system -- a system of spoiled, crooked, helpless, educated-only-academically, clueless judges, prosecutors, lawyers (professional liars and scam artists), and all that erodes what little morality they went into police work with, and at some point they just say fuck it: The world is corrupt: The world doesn't give a shit: No one is steering the ship: The people don't give a shit: Why should I? I personally quit federal law enforcement in the US because of that and a few other things; I didn't want to become one of those turds and, honestly, you can't remain and move up if you buck them. If you think cops are generally good, read this book.

Are bank robbers spoiled brats?

Yep.

How about customs/immigrations agents?

Many of them, yes -- tiny brains drunk on big power. They'll confiscate your fucking gum if they take a notion to. Is that a joke? No, in some countries (try Singapore as one of a number) THEY'LL LITERALLY, PHYSICALLY, FORCIBLY, CONFISCATE YOURE GODDAMNED GUM.

I was walking into Laos once from Thailand. The station on the Laos side is just a shack. You drop your passport at one window, then wait outside in the equatorial heat, then go to another window and pay of drop another form or whatever, and wait, then go to another -- I think there are five windows, all of which mysteriously function MUCH better if a US $5 is left between the pages. Then, if you survive all that and pay all the bribes (US currency only or your life will instantly become a living hell and the bribe will nearly double), then you walk across a field, over a creaky two by twelve board that crosses a sewage ditch, push through the goats and chickens, and then trudge another few hundred yards to a tiny settlement to try to find transportation to a population center.

I had dropped my passport at the first window and finally retrieved it at the last window -- minus the nice leather holder it had been in. I didn't even waste a shrug; just picked it up and started trudging. I'd gone about a hundred yards when I thought, you know, let's see if they stamped it correctly. So I opened it, and of course that wasn't even my picture. So I trudged back to the window I'd just picked it up from and told them it was not my passport -- they had given me some other man's passport. This kind of thing is never surprising there. I should have been intelligent enough to check it after one yard, instead of 100.

It took quite a few tries to get across to the man-buffalo that it wasn't my passport. Here, I said, you can see the picture -- this is not me; I have hair; this man doesn't; I am white; this man is Chinese.

When it finally sunk in, he realized that he had fairly seriously fucked up, but take the blame for it? Oh, never. In SE Asia there is no blame. Thou shalt not lose face. So instead of simply taking the errant passport and handing me mine, he started screaming and banging on the counter that he was going to arrest me instantly for stealing another man's passport. YOU CANNOT TAKE PEOPLE ANOTHER PASSPORT!!! He ranted as the spittle coated the greasy old counter at the window. You will go to jail! A small crowd gathered. I was a bit alarmed at the ferocity of his attack, but not so much by the logic because I'd already been in that region many years.

I stood quietly, didn't say a word, and let his fire burn out. It took about three minutes. Several times he'd walked away, only to return with a new rant. Maybe his boss was watching. Or maybe he was just crazy. Then he finally stopped, composed himself somewhat, snatched away the other man's passport and slammed mine down on the wood and then slammed the window -- which he immediately had to open again due to the heat. I thanked him in Thai and walked away.

Coming back into Thailand on that same trip, Thai immigrations examined my passport for...wait for it...forty two minutes. They didn't check anything in any computer. They just stared at it. Maybe 15 times the main agent lifted his rubber stamp and almost....stamped it. Then he'd stop, and put the stamp down, and stare at it again. They didn't flip through the pages. They just stared at the page they were supposed to stamp. They didn't appear to confer between themselves. They didn't look up at me. Maybe there was a magical fucking fairy appearing on the page with a vibrator up her ass and they simply couldn't look away. I have no clue.

The line behind me grew to several hundred meters. I missed my connecting bus. Finally he simply stamped it. I was never asked a single question. They never appeared to try to match the picture to my face. They simply stared at that one page, like a chicken stares at a line drawn in chalk while it watches.

Does that make them spoiled brats? Probably.

Walking through another remote border station I handed my passport to the lady. She opened it. Looked at it disgustedly. And very forcefully shoved it back at me. No words. Not one.

I figured some stamp was out of order. She didn't understand Thai, or English, or French, or German, or Spanish, or probably neither Pig Latin, or else she refused to try, but she would NOT utter one word.

About six times I examined the passport and then politely and slowly flipped through the pages, asking if the problem was this page? Or this one? Or this other page? And after each attempt I would respectfully slide it towards her across the counter and smile, eyebrows raised, but not too much because that can be an insult in this region.

Each time she would grunt loudly and almost violently slam it back at me, like it was, literally, a dog turn covered in snake vomit with insects fornicating on it by the hundreds. The line behind me was quite long and people didn't CARE if I was the problem or the lady was -- they were hot as hell and tired and they only wanted to get through the filty crossing.

My girlfriend had crossed over a few minutes ahead of me and she'd been watching this bizarre spectacle from the other side. She had tried talking to the woman in her own language, from behind her, but the odious creature just rudely brushed her hand at her in the air, as though she was a fly.

Finally my girlfriend processed back through customs to the country I was still technically in, and grabbed my passport back through the window and opened it and yelled very loudly WHAT! WHAT DO YOU WANT!?

The old ox must have realized that this girl could yell much more loudly than she could, and we could see the border guards starting to warily approach.

Finally, the battle ax opened the passport to a certain page and slammed it back down on the counter and jammed her finger onto a page.

I thought, well, this is progress! "I" hadn't been able to get that much cooperation out of the ghoul.

I took it and looked, and looked, and looked, but where she'd been thrusting her finger was opened to two blank pages! I was now fully flummoxed. I absolutely didn't understand anything that was going on. Was there a hidden Candid-Camera crew somewhwere?

I passed it back, carefully, and told her in Thai that I didn't understand what she wanted.

She rolled her big ol' cow eyes and made the same gesture of jamming her finger onto the same page, and then slamming the booklet down onto the counter and shoving it at me.

We repeated that particular charade at least six more times. Truly, honestly, at least six more times -- perhaps as many as nine.

My girlfriend had been watching this over my shoulder, and she couldn't either garner a fucking clue as to what was happening. Finally GF snatched the passport and just went off on the old bat. Just totally went off on her. It was then I realized that neither of us were ever going to get into this country, which sucked, because I had prepaid a nice hotel.

The guards were now at our elbows, and I was waiting for a rough grab of the arm and the hot steel of a gun barrel at the back of my neck.

The woman simply pushed the passport back to my side and refolded her arms. At no time during this fifteen minutes had she uttered a single word in any language, except to grunt.

My girlfriend was now more confused than I was. I had racked it up to clinical insanity. GF, though, still thought there MUST be a logical explanation, and when you look for sanity and logic where none exists, you get a headache.

GF then took it and examined it at the microscopic level. I was thinking, oh shit, there might be a staple hole in one of the pages, and that can cost you a hefty bribe in some countries in this region. Many border agents will staple the living shit out of your passport, clickety clacking that mak with wild abandon, while the next one will refuse to validate the same passport due to a single hole.

Finally, my GF exclaimed, and handed the passport to me, and pointed to the crack in the binding between the two pages.

I looked.

I saw nothing.

She nodded to me to look more closely.

I looked more closely.

I saw NOT A FUCKING THING EXCEPT THE CRACK AND A FEW THREADS OF THE BINDING AT THE BOTTOM OF THE CRACK.

GF said look even MORE closely.

I did.

I remained clueless.

GF opened her purse and produced some tweezers, and she very, very carefully extracted something from the crack. I couldn't even see it.

Again, I thought oh fuck me, maybe it's a tiny speck of pollen from some prohibited plant that was growing twenty feet away. I couldn't think of anything else at all.

But I was STILL wrong.

GF proudly held up the tweezers and I actually had to take my progressives off to see such a tiny thing. It was an eyelash. Not a whole eyelash. It was half an eyelash. At least thats what it looked like it could be, and it's what we did conclude it must be.

She opened the tweezers and let it blow away in the breeze, and, smiling, handed the passport back to the oaf.

The woman didn't hesitate; she stamped the visa and waived us through. She instantly stamped the visa, and then stamped girlfriend's visa AGAIN, and waived us through.

This is an absolutely true and factual story down to the smallest detail. This actually happened. But the worst part is, things like this happen fairly regularly at border stations around the world. They're not so common at airports. I suspect that is because there are too many cameras and prying eyes and educated, professional people coming through, to allow them to get away with behavior THIS GODDAMNED SPOILED for long. At the rural, or VERY rural crossings, insanity is rampant.

Ah but, of course, this kind of crazy fucking shit, straight from bizarre-o-world, would and could never happen at a civilized crossing, like in the US, Canada, or whatever.

Yes, yes it can.

It's incredible power given to the incredibly stupid, and that eventually turns them into spoiled rotten brats.

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...Work in progress, November, 2020...

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