An unspoken problem

Ads for medications are everywhere on tv. You can’t help but be subjected to an ad for some strangely named medication for a certain condition, often but not always trivial. That nonsensical name is mentioned followed by a lengthy readings of its many side effects, more often than not including death, the weird name again, and the ad ends.

And that’s all fine, except for the first sentence of the side effects, included in all medication ads: “Do not take if allergic to (insert nonsensical name here).” It’s this exact sentence that makes me wonder who is to blame for at least some of our societal ills.

After all, do people need to be told to avoid taking something to which they’re allergic? Isn’t that common sense? Shouldn’t it be? That sentence means someone at some point took some meds they were allergic to, became ill, and sued the drug company for it and somehow won what is usually a large monetary sum. this person, instead of taking responsibility for themselves and paying at least some attention to what the hell they’re putting in their body, blamed the maker of that substance for not telling them not to take something to which they’re allergic. And made money off that stupidity!

You may argue that medical allergies are different than other allergies which are better known and easier to identify, like peanut allergies or issues with wheat, etc. Okay, that may be true, but isn’t it still your responsibility to tell your doctor about all your allergies so he or she can take them into consideration when prescribing medicine for you?

Apparently it isn’t.

And it is this lack of personal responsibility for oneself that is at the crux of a lot of what is wrong with our society. You are hit by a car while crossing against the light and preoccupied with your phone? Sue the phone and car manufacturers. You drive into a lake because of faulty GPS directions? it’s the GPS’s fault. Accidentally shot someone while hunting? Sue the gun maker.

Look, I’m not at all against warning labels on foods or any consumables that can cause serious harm; I often read ingredients lists on food containers to see if my lactose intolerant tummy can digest them properly. But to have to tell you to not take something you know can harm you is like telling someone not to slam their head on the brick wall because it can crack their skull open; it should not have to be said.

Anyway, that’s my rant over with. And by the way, as far as food allergies being easier to avoid, pick up a jar of peanuts or peanut butter next time you’re in in the grocery store and read the back label.

It will say “Contains Peanuts.”

FUCK!!!

Well done, America.

You have once again shown you cannot be trusted to look after yourselves; that you are a bunch of uneducated, short sighted, and highly self-serving people. You have shown you don’t understand simple economic concepts, and are willing to sell your country and fellow country folk down the river for cheaper groceries (which you will never get, by the way) and maybe a few more bucks in your pocket (which will also never happen, unless your a millionaire and above). You know how I know all this?

BECAUSE YOU HAVE JUST ELECTED A CONVICTED FELON YOUR FUCKING PRESIDENT!!!

Trump is not just a convicted felon, but also a twice impeached former president, a misogynist, racist, xenophobe, illiterate,and a treasonous wannabe dictator. You cannot say you didn’t know, because not only has he never hidden those parts of who he is, he has proudly proclaimed them at every given chance.

And now you have voted him president again, and this time, he’s surrounded by sycophants and enablers, instead a handful of moderate Republicans who, back in his first term as president, kept him from doing whatever he liked and FUBARing the world. This time, he’s actually going to do it. Who’s going to stop him, you?

But you know what, Let him. Let him destroy our country and as many parts of the world as he can, just so you lot will hopefully see exactly the stupid decision you have made and maybe learn from it (I won’t be holding my breath though). Let him give tax cuts to billionaires and gut social services. Let him destroy our already ailing education system by replacing sciences and arts with conservative Christian beliefs and close the schools that refuse to conform to this. Let him waste trillions of dollars on expanding the already bloated military instead of fixing our crumbling infrastructure. Let him deregulate corporations and let them run free, after all, the worst that can happen with that is a repeat of the 2008 global economic collapse, that’s all. And you all don’t care about that, since you don’t give a whit about what happens outside the 10 foot radius around where you’re standing.

But as irksome and vile as MAGA idiots are, sadder still are those educated liberal and Democrats who didn’t even vote. Instead, they sat back and whined about how the current administration isn’t doing anything to save Palestinians in Gaza and the West Bank and all that region, not even considering how complicated and involved the politics of that region are; US can’t just whap Israel on the nose with a rolled up newspaper with an emphatic NO! and Israel will suddenly stop trying to eradicate Hamas and Hezbollah once and for all, not caring about all the innocents caught in the middle.

Well guess what, bitches. You can kiss all Palestinians in that region goodbye, because Trump is going to unleash Netanyahu and wait until he’s finished doing whatever he wants before moving in and building Trump Towers on the bloody corpses of those very innocents and the still smoldering ruins of their homes. You can also kiss Ukraine’s sovereignty and that region’s stability good bye while you’re at it, because that’s also going the way of the dodo (it has already began, by the way). Taiwan will soon follow suit or Trump will start a war with China over it, which will then give him an excuse to bring back the shameful internment camps and collect all non-whites… well, you know how that would go.

Whatever happens from now on, domestically and internationally, you cannot complain about, America.

Never forget… you asked for it.

I am scared...

This Tuesday is election day, and folks, I’m scared.

As some of you know, I grew up in an unstable political climates just before, during, and after the Islamic revolution in Iran, so I am familiar with revolt and the insanity and chaos it brings and foments. on January 6th, ‘21, I was sitting with dad in northwestern Virginia as the events at the capitol unfolded, and I told him I was more than a little scared. He chuckled, ridiculing me as he did, may he rest in peace, but even he had to relent when I explained why I was scared; I was taken back to the last days of the revolution, a month or so before the Shah left Iran and theocracy took over. I flashed back on crowds of all ages in the streets, protesting the Shah and his dictatorial attempts at quashing their voices of dissent; at being oppressed and discarded by the monarchy who lived in opulence and wasted the country’s wealth, just as many all around Iran went hungry and died in poverty.

I was reminded of the curfews and army soldiers standing next to their tanks at road closures, signified by fires burning in old oil barrels, enforcing those curfews and turning the lone occasional car around to wherever they had come from. Interestingly, they never arrested anyone for breaking curfew, they just wanted people off the streets, which i suppose was the main point of the curfews. That was where my mind went as the MAGA mob attacked the capitol trying to overturn the results of a fair and democratic elections at the behest of the clown prince of bullshit and bad fake tans. Thankfully, and thanks to a few heroes who sacrificed themselves to preserve our republic and the literal lives of the congresspeople inside the capitol doing their jobs, MAGA did not succeed.

But things have changed, folks. For some baffling reason, Trump is still not only a viable political entity, but the Republican presidential candidate and more popular than ever, mostly because his followers just swallow the bilge he consistently spews and cannot be swayed by logic or reason, or god forbid, proven facts. Trump has of course been decrying election interference since 2020, and continues to do so, without any proof what so ever. MAGA governors reinforce these claims, of course, because if they didn’t kiss Trump’s ass, they would have no reason to live, apparently. Additionally, the constant spew of hateful, racists, and xenophobic comments and unfounded claims from the MAGA camp have continued, and so on and so forth… That’s nothing new, I hear you say. But what is new is how much stronger and more convinced the MAGA mob has become. All those who supported Trump just seeking a change, something new, something fresh that would move our country forward, have dropped off and come to their senses, thank goodness. However, all that remains are diehards, those who see Trump as the messiah, and will have no compunction about taking up arms and kill their fellow Americans to put him in power.

And that is why I am absolutely frightened, folks.

One of two things will happen next week: Either Harris will win and some measure of sanity will be restored to our lives for a while, until MAGA masses start rioting in the streets and attacking everyone and everything, heavily armed as they are on a good day, and the chaos will be untenable, the madness eventually evolving into civil war.

Or… Trump will win and for the first time in our country’s storied history, we will have a dictator in power. I can’t even imagine what madness he will unleash on us Americans and on the world, most of which, especially in the current political climate, looks to the US for guidance and assistance. A second Trump presidency (he said, spitting on the back of his hand tfft tfft!) will lead to WWIII, of that I am certain.

And I just can’t decide which is worse… even though the choice should be clear. That’s the new normal, folks.

Welcome to the new world order.

The Lesser Known Negative Impact of COVID

I work as an online English tutor these days; I enjoy tutoring and the extra income is also useful. I started doing this back in my college days when I worked at the campus Writing Center; a lovely, comfortable round room where me and my colleagues sat and worked with students of all kinds on writing projects of all kind… face to face.

I only mention that obvious part because education has moved far away from face to face thanks to the pandemic of 2020, and may never go back to it.

And that’s a shame.

There is so much about face to face tutoring that just cannot be accomplished online. I can’t easily and quickly expand on examples and ideas online as I can sitting at a table across from a student, stubby pencil in hand, crafting quick rough diagrams and connecting relatable points by drawing arrows between them.

I cannot impart the importance of a passage, the feeling and context of a theme, by simply typing into a chat box on my laptop, who knows how many miles between me and the student I’m trying to help.

Worst of all, I cannot get up from the table and walk over to the reference shelf and grab a book and show students what I exactly mean by showing them examples from other articles, short stories, or novels, as the case may be.

No, I cannot. I must simply try my damnedest to keep students’ attention from diverting toward some whatever in their home around them, without the use of my gaze and body language like I can do during in-person sessions, hoping and praying students are actually learning how to write a thesis statement, organize an essay, or cite their sources properly.

And try as I may, I cannot stop the students from simply ending the session if they’re bored or just don’t like my ‘tone’, etc.

Yes, I am paid regardless of the outcome, but that’s not the tutor I want to be. I enjoy seeing the light of recognition and understanding of a concept in students’ eyes, the relieved smile where, only few minutes ago, existed the grimace of confusion and fear. I want to see that I have helped, and that help has improved students’ academic chances of progress.

I want to sense students’ brain cells growing and their synapses crackling. I want to see them learn.

Alas, that is no longer the goal of the American education system. The already troubling trend of simply making the numbers look good by just giving students ‘the answers’ and securing school funding has been boosted by the Covid-19 pandemic; it has given schools and universities an excuse to crank up the student production lines, passing them from one grade to the next without ensuring proper learning and implementing appropriate education frameworks.

And as if that wasn’t horrible enough, the pandemic has also given rise to online schools, wherein students attend exclusively online classes without the support of any professors, teachers, counselors, and the material they need to learn properly.

Worse yet, these schools admit any and all students regardless of their academic ability or knowledge. So many times have I read upper level college papers written at elementary school level, without the slightest idea of how to assemble a sentence, never mind a paragraph!

But the check has cleared, so on you go students, stumbling in the dark without any proper assistance, desperately asking tutors like me for help, which I just told you I can’t really provide with the quality I prefer.

And that, dear readers, is how people like Trump become president.

Did the end justify the means?

I wanted to feel good about watching the World Cup, to follow the biggest tournament of the most popular sport in the world, the sport I have always loved and followed in some form or another. But I just couldn’t look past all the corruption, the horrible human rights abuses and the deaths it continues to cause, all the misery, all the… just wrong things about this edition of El Copa Mundial. Qatar was so unsuitable for such a massive competition people had to pay more than US$200 a night to sleep in tents! No privacy, no security, and no air conditioning! And a World Cup in November?!

What the actual fuck, man?!?

But I grit my teeth and made my peace with it, how could I not? Besides, this was Messi’s final shot at winning a WC and finally, once and for all, quiet his (unjust) critics who refused to even mention him in the discussion for the greatest player to ever play the game, the GOAT, to use the current vernacular. Greatest Of All Time. GOAT, get it?

Anyway, I pressed on, but then Argentina lost its first game to Saudi Arabia, and suddenly, I was second guessing everything. After all, if Argentina wasn’t going to go all the way, it they were going to sputter and stumble and count solely on Messi to carry them on his 5’7” shoulders as he had done the last two World Cups… what was the point?

But then the Albicelste got their shit together and started the locomotive. They were still lead by La Pulga Atomica, of course, because that’s a team captain’s job, but they showed they weren’t going to solely rely on his magic to advance through the rounds. The weirdo Martinez showed he is one of the best goal keepers in the world by pulling off save after save, often single-handedly keeping Argentina in the game, and Otamnedi and DiMaria once again proved their worth as reliable players in their positions. Most others were also instrumental in every game and shared the burden of duty, more or less equally.

Meanwhile, Christiano Ronaldo proved to be the whiny useless past-his-prime player he has been for a long time by only contributing one goal (from a penalty resulting from one of his trademark dives) and zero assists, and annoying his coach so badly he benched him! And I took great pleasure in all of it.

Then came the final. Argentina had made it convincingly, but the trouble was, so had the French team; a fast, young, and resilient team with the player everyone knows to be the future of the sport, the great magician, the magnificent, the doggedly focused Kylian Mbappe.

Shit.

And what a game it was. Argentina owned the first half and most of the second, leading 2-0 until around the 80th minute, until Mbappe woke up. Two quick goals and by the 83rd minute, 2-2.

Extra time.

Both teams attack relentlessly, and Messi strikes first. 3-2. but then, so does Mbappe! 3-3!!! Penalties will decide this World Cup.

FUUUUUUUCK!!!

France and Argentina both make their first tries, Messi with his usual cool ballsy confidence. Then, Martinez saves one! YES!!! Argentina, I forget who, makes the next penalty, and France… MISSES! A bit later, Argentina wins the shootout 4-2 and Messi finally, after trying and failing so many times, lifts the golden statue above his head and cements his legacy as the greatest to ever play the game, just edging his idol Maradona, El Pibe De Oro, as far as I’m concerned.

A game for the ages. One of the greatest World Cup finals ever. An instant classic.

So Messi and I got what we wanted. But did it all mean anything, knowing it all came at such great cost? To Messi, of course.

To me… hm.

Here I Am then!

In Milwaukee!

Woohoo! By which I mean I have most things sorted except for the transportation, and I hope to have that figured out soon. Ish. Thankfully Wisconsin is apparently one of those states that responds quickly to applications for assistance. I already have my food assistance sorted, as well as my health insurance, such as it is. So for now, I sit in my room in a very old house riddled with ants and asshole housemates and without air conditioning, ordering groceries from Amazon Fresh and not going anywhere because every trip costs me between bollocking $20 to $30.

Ah but it’ll all be fine soon enough. I’ll have my bus cripple bus pass and have all my prescriptions filled and will go out and see people and do things and maybe even move to a half way decent house in a half way decent neighborhood…

Goddamn I am tired of repeating the same shit to myself every few months then do it all fucking over again. This is it. I’m not moving anymore. Hell or high water, I’m staying in Milwaukee. I can’t do it anymore.

I won’t.

So much and yet…

So little has happened since my last post.
I moved to a new place in September, found an online tutoring job in October, and I’m planning a move to Milwaukee before this summer.

Oh and dad died couple of weeks ago.

It happened suddenly. He tested positive for Covid-19, and a few days later, those light symptoms in addition to the leftover effects from his COPD and his general frailty took their toll.
He passed away peacefully the night of February 20, 2022.

That’s about it.

Inconceivable!!!

I may not be using that correctly..

Regardless, the unthinkable has happened. No culé ever imagined it would end like this. Sure, we all knew it would at some point, but in the claret and blue, at Camp Nou, in one of the biggest celebrations the cavernous stadium has ever seen. Alas, it was not to be.

Messi has left FC Barçelona.

He was offered a new contract, but there was no way he could be paid without breaking some major La Liga financial rules. So now he’s a whatever they’re called over at Paris Saint Germain. Our beloved Pulga Atomico has become part of the decade-long trophy hunt the oil Barrons of Arabia owners of PSG are only happy to continue, despite their crowning achievement in Europe so far has been Champions League runners up.

As upsetting as that is, worse yet is the reasons why Barça couldn’t afford to pay Messi’s contract. The unbelievable incompetence with which the previous boards of directors ran the club has finally reared its ugly head in earnest; the club’s debts have reached into billions of euros, and the Laporta, the prodigal club president, has shown a surprising willingness to continue that disastrous trait this summer, by signing new expensive players without having money to pay them. Last week, just before the first game of the season, Gerard Pique took a pay cut so the new players could be registered and play, proving the club means more than a contract to quite a few players.

Ironically, the financial mismanagement reached its peak a few years ago when PSG forked over Neymar’s 223 million euro release clause to Barça and took his whiny, tantrum-throwing butt to Paris. At the time, Barça was in negotiations with Broussard Dortmund to buy Dembele, and Dortmund, seeing the large wad of cash in Barça’s lap, and aware of the board’s desperation to please the fans, raised its price for young Ousman and wouldn’t budge. And Barça, suddenly having lost all leverage, buckled. Liverpool did the same with Couthinho, and all other clubs reacted to interest from Barça for their players the same way.

And Barça paid. And paid. And Paid.

And here we are. I can’t even be sure if Sergio Aguero, Messi’s best friend, will stay now that Leo’s gone. He won’t be ready to play for a few weeks, so we will see. Maybe Kidman will manage a miracle and present a competitive team this season. Maybe Laporta wakes up, changes course, and saves our beloved Barça as he promised during his election campaign. Maybe…

Oh hell, who knows. The way the world has been turned upside down and inside out recently, anything is possible.

The Collateral Innocents

The Syrian Civil War has been going on for a decade now, and shows little sign of ending. Just like any other war, civil or otherwise, there are those dismissingly called “collateral damage” by the war hawks and military brass; the children and women caught in the middle, bearing the brunt of all the violence and the means used to inflict maximum damage while they try their best to just get on with life.

Here’s the story of two such victims, as told by the brilliant BBC journalists. Watch it and remember it the next time you talk to someone about wars and their necessity; how inevitable it often is, and how it must be fought to restore peace and bring evil men to justice.

Try and remember the children.

What’s In A Name?

“That which we call a Rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” That is one of the better known quotes from Romeo and Juliet, perhaps even all of Shakespeare’s works, in which Juliet tells Romeo that a name is significant of nothing; that a person’s family name does not dictate their true character…

So on and so forth.

I mention it because of the strange and awkward names given to medications. I can’t watch an hour of programming without some advert comes on extolling the virtues of some medicine or another with a nonsensical name.

Kisqali. Keytruda. Rexulti. Nuplazid. Tremfya. Mavyret. Shingrix. Caplyta. Descovy. Skyrizi. One sounds like an alien race on Star Trek, the other like a new military weapon, and that last one should be sponsored by Snoop Dogg (or whatever he’s calling himself these days). Basically, they sound like anything other than life saving medicines.

But why? Why do they have to have such bizarre non-sense cal names? Why can’t they simply be called what they are? Or a simplified version of it, if the full name is too complex. I’m asking, what’s with all the weird, hard to pronounce names? Is it marketing? Do the pharmas think scientific names would scare people? What is it? What is the reason?

Tell me! Pleeeaaasee?!

Okay, yes, I could google it, but I want to hear it from you. What do you think? How do you feel about the strange medicine names?

Let’s discuss, gentle readers.