Did you, folks, know that you no longer need to show your boarding pass or passport at the gate to board even for an international flight? It’s all facial recognition.
Never experienced it before, and I fly like a maniac. It’s quite creepy because the machine recognized me in an instant.
In the US, the presidency goes from Democrat to Republican to Democrat to Republican, and so on.
In Ukraine it goes from a Russian speaker, to a Ukrainian speaker, to a Russian speaker, and so on.
In Russia, the country’s leadership passes from a bald guy, to a hairy one, to a bald one, and so on. Go back to the last tsar, and you’ll see how it works out.
In Spain, it goes from a corrupt guy to a corrupt guy to… OK, it doesn’t work.
I’m at the airport waiting for a connection flight and trying not to engage in public displays of grief, so I’m firing off posts to keep myself distracted.
Exactly a week ago, my friend Walt said he wasn’t going to hang out for a while because he was flying out to a close friend’s funeral. Walt is 70, so my first thought was, “This is what life looks like at his age, how sad.”
A week later, I’m texting Walt to say I won’t be available for a few days because I’m flying out to a friend’s funeral.
The end of democracy in the UK. The nation-state is completely impotent and it’s processes are utterly meaningless. Capital and its ideological apparatuses will simply crush it.
And it’s really interesting how well capital is exploiting the legendary class anxieties of the British. “Scream as loud as possible so that nobody thinks you are part of the hoi polloi!”
What’s funny is that Johnson seems actually to be trying to stand up to capital. Trump never even tried but this guy, I don’t know, almost seems sincere about resisting. I’m starting to understand why my former thesis advisor is such a fan.
Ten hours of Democrats giving passionate town hall speeches about climate – all wiped out with one stroke of a black sharpie marker.
We are so fucked for the next election.
I can’t even go on stupid Facebook any more. My friend who died loved Facebook. Whenever I went, there’d be a batch of posts from her. And now whenever I go, I keep waiting to see a new one. But it’s not coming.