Dumbest motherfucker in the world

Twitter has been completely dead today and it turns out it’s self inflicted. According to the world’s dumbest motherfucker:

To address extreme levels of data scraping & system manipulation, we’ve applied the following temporary limits:

– Verified accounts are limited to reading 6000 posts/day
– Unverified accounts to 600 posts/day
– New unverified accounts to 300/day

No clue how to run a website he paid the GDP of a medium sized country for. All because the dude wants to be a shit poster so badly and has no talent for it. Gladly would trade any of the billionaires on that Titanic sub for this dude.

A Titanic blunder

To be blunt, I hold the people wanting to take a submarine to the wreck of the Titanic in the same contempt as I hold those wanting to climb Everest: wreckless irresponsible thrill seekers whose hubris causes others to suffer from it. Die doing either, you’re neither hero nor victim, just another fool taking unnecessary risks to pretend to be anything other than yet another tourist.

That said, if I was a billionaire and I was so egocentric and vain as to want to visit the Titanic, I still would not pay 250,000 dollars to be strapped in a short metal dildo only openable from the outside and steered over bluetooth by a dodgy Logitech fake X-box controller. Spent a quarter of a million bucks to die in something I couldn’t stretch my legs out in, having my last piss be in a bucket shared with four other billionaires, you wouldn’t catch me doing that.

If you still believed in the myth of the hypercompetent self made billionaire this surely drives the nail in it. That much money and you don’t have the sense to demand your submersible is built from better stuff than can be found off the selves at Target?

Starving the beasts

The Republicans want to pass a new farm bill without food stamps, the only way millions of poor Americans can get enough food to, well, not starve:

“So, that brings me to the Farm Bill. Which the fucking Republicans want to pass without Food Stamps. A lot of very intelligent commentary has been written on how the Farm Bill has always been a compromise bill, wherein Food Stamps are traded for support for agribusiness, and how this compromise is breaking down. But you know, I don’t feel intelligent or reasoned or informative on the topic. What I feel is fury and betrayal. I know, first hand, real live personal, how utterly and vastly important being able to eat can be.

As Charles Dickens put it, over a hundred and fifty years ago

“At this festive season of the year, Mr. Scrooge,” said the gentleman, taking up a pen, “it is more than usually desirable that we should make some slight provision for the Poor and destitute, who suffer greatly at the present time. Many thousands are in want of common necessaries; hundreds of thousands are in want of common comforts, sir.”

“Are there no prisons?” asked Scrooge.

“Plenty of prisons,” said the gentleman, laying down the pen again.

“And the Union workhouses?” demanded Scrooge. “Are they still in operation?”

“They are. Still,” returned the gentleman, “I wish I could say they were not.”

“The Treadmill and the Poor Law are in full vigour, then?” said Scrooge.

“Both very busy, sir.”

“Oh! I was afraid, from what you said at first, that something had occurred to stop them in their useful course,” said Scrooge. “I’m very glad to hear it.”

“Under the impression that they scarcely furnish Christian cheer of mind or body to the multitude,” returned the gentleman, “a few of us are endeavouring to raise a fund to buy the Poor some meat and drink, and means of warmth. We choose this time, because it is a time, of all others, when Want is keenly felt, and Abundance rejoices. What shall I put you down for?”

“Nothing!” Scrooge replied.

“You wish to be anonymous?”

“I wish to be left alone,” said Scrooge. “Since you ask me what I wish, gentlemen, that is my answer. I don’t make merry myself at Christmas and I can’t afford to make idle people merry. I help to support the establishments I have mentioned—they cost enough; and those who are badly off must go there.”

“Many can’t go there; and many would rather die.”

“If they would rather die,” said Scrooge, “they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population.

Bring on the Jubilee

Banks sell debt for pennies on the dollar on a shadowy speculative market of debt buyers who then turn around and try to collect the full amount from debtors. The Rolling Jubilee intervenes by buying debt, keeping it out of the hands of collectors, and then abolishing it. We’re going into this market not to make a profit but to help each other out and highlight how the predatory debt system affects our families and communities. Think of it as a bailout of the 99% by the 99%.

[…]

For every $1 donated, we are able to buy and abolish $20 worth of debt.

The Rolling Jubilee project is one of the cleverest, simplest direct action ideas I’ve ever seen, a way to short circuit the toxic relationships between debt and poverty that the economic crisis has made worse (and made worse the economic crisis). I’ve blogged about idea of a Jubilee before, but never thought of doing it like this.

There are some caveats of course; buying up debt like this does help, in the long run, to prop up the whole rotten banking and lending system, but in my opinion this is cancelled out by the good it does now. Besides, the system is propped up already by the tax payer and the working classes anyway and this way we actually receive some benefit from it.

Oi!

London 2012:



Another perspective, more optimistic, same message:



Last Summer’s riots were a warning, but nobody has learned anything from it yet. I don’t think I ever thought I could get less optimistic than I was in 2002-2003 when I saw the world slide into war against Iraq, but my fear is that the only lesson the politicians took out of that debacle is that you can ignore popular discontent as long as you got parliament and the Westminster press bubble on your side. They’re wrong, but a lot of people are going to suffer before these fsckers get their just desserts.