Tag Archives: Donald Trump

No Thanks Donald Trump, Keep Your Snake Oil

Over the years I’ve worked with a hell of a lot of sales people.

I don’t want one of your f*****g steaks, either

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Some good, some psychotic, which of course you could say for any “profession”,
but a psychotic salesperson is something to behold, and not in a good way.

Sales people are a certain breed.

President-elect Donald Trump… I can’t believe I just wrote that… this is a very f****d up Twilight Zone / Black Mirror episode… but I digress. Donald J. Trump is a sales person. The ultimate.
Reported guestimates of his bank balance range between $150, $3 billion or $10 billion, give or take.

With Trump, it’s all about closing the deal, he wrote THAT book which thankfully I have avoided. Trump closed the deal early Wednesday morning – the keys to 1600 Pennsylvania Ave NW, Washington, DC.

So where to now? During the campaign Trump made a litany of very well documented promises to his faithful (we all saw them as outrageous threats), but will he follow through? Or in true snake oil salesman mode, was all that ranting simply BS, means to an end of winning the Presidency?
Who knows? With Trump, you get the impression that he is constantly making it up as he goes along, to borrow that line from Monty Python. We’re all in very murky unchartered waters,
heading straight for the Bermuda Triangle.

No doubt many of his hard core supporters would have been simultaneously disappointed and disillusioned with his victory speech. It was extremely un-Trumplike, none of the vitriol, no locking up of “Crooked Hillary”, no wall-building threats, no pussies were grabbed, nobody was threatened with deportation. I laughed when it was reported as “being Presidential”, I put it down to the fact he’s an old man and it was waaaay past his bedtime.

Is Trump serious about making America great again? What does that very shallow four-word slogan even mean? Define “great”. Trump was following the old adage of tell ‘em what they want to hear and closed the deal.

Let’s pick one of his campaign “policies”. Did he / does he have any intention of building that wall? Again, who knows how any of this will play out. He’ll no doubt wheel out that hoary old chestnut (which is itself a hoary old chestnut),“Well you know I wanted to <insert bizarre promise> I really did. I promised you I would. But I was blocked. They’re weak. Cowards… etc etc”. The faithful will chug down some more Kool-Aid.

Trump’s meeting with President Obama in the White House on Thursday was surreal to say the least. Trump used the words “great respect” which is laughable, considering the whole birther thing, and the blowtorch he continually took to Obama during the election campaign. But did he really mean any of that? Neither of them looked like they wanted to be there. The body language experts had a field day.

So I suppose it is a matter of watching this space, to see what President steak salesman and beauty pageant owner does. I find it highly amusing / terrifying that his campaign team barred him from Twitter during the final days of the campaign, and now he has the nuclear codes. You seriously couldn’t make this stuff up.

Millions across the planet are proclaiming that the Trump presidency will be the end of the world… and to quote the classic R.E.M. song, Trump will respond with “and I feel fine.”

©Steve Williams 2016

*This piece also appeared in The Huffington Post Australia:
No Thanks, Donald Trump, Keep Your Snake Oil

Tagged , , , , , , , , , ,

A New Kitten = Trumps Everything

I would like to discuss Donald Trump.

Actually no, I’d much rather talk about our new kitten.

We didn’t think we would get another one.

The wonderful Oscar was with us for nearly 15 years, travelling around the world with us.
Part of the family. Until last October. You can read about that very ordinary Thursday here.
Oscar was always going to be a very hard act to follow. My wife and I resisted for a year.
We just couldn’t do it, but we have.

Lilli the kitten arrived a few weeks ago, very coincidentally on the same date Oscar died.
She has rather large paws to fill, though she is not a replacement and of course she is her own cat. She is quickly proving that. Apparently she was the “shy, reserved one”. Hardly.

It’s a long time since we had a kitten in the house, you forget what it’s like…

*Having to look down when you carry a cup of coffee as she likes to wrap herself around / sprint between your feet like a little silent furry ninja.

*The intense interest in anything happening in the kitchen. The reaching up, pawing at legs in an attempt to get some of whatever is on offer. “It’s yoghurt. You’re a cat, you don’t eat yoghurt.”

*Seemingly dematerialising then rematerialising in another room like a Star Trek episode. Sometimes it’s like there are three of them.

*The rescuing of cat toys from under lounges. I keep being “dragged” away from working to extricate a trapped cat toy from the very middle of under the lounge. A pitiful squeak – Lilli appears to squeak rather than miaow, sounding in desperate need of WD40. The squeak leads me to a rather forlorn little thing peering anxiously at the dark abyss under the lounge / chair / bed, basically anything that is the perfect size for a cat toy. The foil crunchy shiny mice / ball things being the toy du jour.

*The amusement of looking at her discovering herself in the mirror.

*The psychotic sprinting after she uses her kitty litter tray. I’ve always thought it would be amusing if humans did that.

*The pushing the boundaries – using the dining table as a shortcut, delicately pirouetting around photos on the sideboard. That is being strongly discouraged as we speak. A stern “No”, distracting her with said crunchy shiny mice / ball things. Then she turns THAT face on, and is back on the dining table. Repeat.

*The overall outrageous cuteness of a young kitten, the tractor-esque purring, the random sleeping in what are extremely uncomfortable locations, when there are at least 47 far more comfortable spots.

*The general craziness of rampaging through the house for no apparent reason. Seeing an imaginary something on the ground, then taking off with a very strange un-kitten like sound.

*The ignoring of expensive cat toys, happy to spend half an hour in an empty carboard box.

*You forget how small and low to the ground kittens are compared to adult cats. There are numerous unsuccessful attempts daily of Donald Trump style pussy-grabbing.

I wrote about Oscar sitting in my wife’s his chair while I working, Lilli has now discovered the same chair, she looks quite at home. It’s nice having that chair occupied. That Coldplay song isn’t quite as sad.

Welcome Lilli, it’s wonderful to hear the crazed scampering of paws in our home.
Oscar was quite the furry ratbag, and you’re shaping up extremely well in that department…

©Steve Williams 2016

*This piece also appeared in The Huffington Post Australia: This New Arrival Trumps Everything
 

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Electric Dreams – Turning On & Off Sex Robots

There’s been a lot of talk about sex robots lately. Not sure why.
I suppose it’s better than talking about Donald Trump.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You may have possibly read about Roxxxy “the world’s first robotic girlfriend”. Apart from the screamingly obvious objectification (literally) issues, the repetition of the letter “x” and total
WTF?-ness of it all, my first thoughts were of the late great actor Yul Brynner. No, not in a weird “King and I” dancing fantasy (not that there’s absolutely anything wrong with that). I was thinking of Yul’s work in that classic sci-fi / thriller “Westworld” (now an HBO remake) when he plays the robot who loses the plot slightly and goes around slightly shooting people.

What happens if Roxxxy or any of her robotic horizontal folk dancing sisters loses the plot?
Blows a head gasket, O-ring, hard drive or any remotely sexually sounding innards? Who do you ring? Some call centre in Mumbai where “Bazza” will talk you through the issues? Is there bedside assistance? Or do you have to wander down to a service centre with her under your arm, surfboard style and say, “She’s buggered mate”.

Roxxxy was born? Unveiled? Frankensteined? at an Adult Entertainment Expo in Las Vegas,
where else – and apparently her creator’s inspiration for her / it rose from the death of a friend in the September 11 attacks. “I promised myself I would create a program to store his personality, and that became the foundation for Roxxxy.” I’m wondering which of the fembot’s various programmable personalities that was. “Wild Wendy”, “Frigid Farrah” or “Mature Martha”?
Even so, a nice way to be immortalised. I’m sure the mate would be very proud. He went on,
“She can’t vacuum, she can’t cook but she can do almost anything else, if you know what I mean.”

Maybe it’s just me, but I thought “vacuum” might fall into the “if you know what I mean” category. Told you it was weird.

Roxxxy’s not cheap, at up to nine thousand bucks, but if you’re into that sort of thing, she sounds
a tad safer than that bloke in Brazil a while back who became rather excited about a car’s exhaust pipe and needed some angle-grinder action to extricate himself.

As they say, whatever turns you on – as long as you can turn her off. Just remember Yul Brynner.

©Steve Williams 2016

*This piece also appeared in The Huffington Post Australia:
Electric Dreams: The Rise Of Sex Robots

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Yulin Dog Meat “Festival”, Brexit, Trump… #FFS

“I turned another year older recently, and in light of recent global events I have been thinking of the poignant Queen song “Is This the World We Created?” A fair question.

In no particular order, these are just a few of the random things seriously disturbing me.

Thankfully not on the Yulin menu

The “Yulin Dog Meat Festival” in China. For once, words almost fail me with this one. The name is sickeningly self-explanatory, however the word “festival” is a total misnomer. An annual event, the mind-fucking barbarity these poor animals are subjected to before the inevitable is forged from the utter bowels of depravity. It takes a hell of a lot to shock me, but the images I have encountered researching this cannot be unseen. These bastards need to be stopped. Ricky Gervais has been a champion in attacking the Yulin Dog Meat Festival, using a five letter word ending in “s” to describe the perpetrators. I couldn’t agree more.

Donald Trump.

The sick bastard in Western Australia who was jailed for a pathetic twenty-two years for raping his daughter over two years starting when she was only 11. If that doesn’t make your skin crawl, he also pimped her out to six other men. There was video and bondage gear involved. How do you even begin to fathom this? As a father, you can’t even start. He told police, “I’m going to be honest, it was fun while it lasted but it went way over the line.” A bullet to the brain would be too good for this monster. Twenty-two years is nothing compared to the life sentence the girl will have to endure. I hope she is getting all the love and support she needs. I hope the father only lasts an extremely painful 3.7 seconds in prison.

Donald Trump.

That nut job in Orlando — again a wannabe zealot hijacking religion and using his twisted fucked up beliefs to justify his slaughter. The blood-soaked scene of carnage du jour was a gay nightclub, however as we have tragically seen over the years, the killing grounds have included schools, shopping centres, cinemas, concert venues, even a chocolate branded cafe in Sydney. A flow on subset of problems here. Bleedingly (literally) obvious question… How can anyone walk into a gun shop and buy a military style weapon with no questions asked? Why does anyone NEED to walk into a gun shop and buy a military style weapon? It doesn’t make sense. Those mad fuckers at the NRA bang on about the Second Amendment, but that was ratified in 1791. Back then, massacre-inducing automatic weapons would have been some gunsmith’s wet dream.

Donald Trump.

Brexit. So much anger so little time. The ignorant racism, the xenophobia. The shame-faced lies of politicians and lobbyists. Mostly, the morons who, hours after voting to leave it were Googling “what is the EU?” Google reported that the search “what happens if we leave the EU?” tripled AFTER the vote. This woman needs to get in the sea…”Even though I voted to leave, this morning I woke up and I just — the reality did actually hit me, If I’d had the opportunity to vote again, it would be to stay.” Face palm. The right to vote is one of the greatest things we have, and these people are just pissing it up against a wall. Be careful what you wish for…

<rant ends>

©Steve Williams 2016

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
""