You want it darker

RIP St Leonard

If you are the deal­er, I’m out of the game
If you are the heal­er, it means I’m bro­ken and lame
If thine is the glo­ry then mine must be the shame
You want it darker
We kill the flame

Mag­ni­fied, sanc­ti­fied, be thy holy name
Vil­i­fied, cru­ci­fied, in the human frame
A mil­lion can­dles burn­ing for the help that nev­er came
You want it darker

Hineni, hineni
I’m ready, my lord

There’s a lover in the story
But the story’s still the same
There’s a lul­la­by for suffering
And a para­dox to blame
But it’s writ­ten in the scriptures
And it’s not some idle claim
You want it darker
We kill the flame

They’re lin­ing up the prisoners
And the guards are tak­ing aim
I strug­gled with some demons
They were mid­dle class and tame
I didn’t know I had per­mis­sion to mur­der and to maim
You want it darker

Hineni, hineni
I’m ready, my lord
Mag­ni­fied, sanc­ti­fied, be thy holy name
Vil­i­fied, cru­ci­fied, in the human frame
A mil­lion can­dles burn­ing for the love that nev­er came
You want it darker
We kill the flame

If you are the deal­er, let me out of the game
If you are the heal­er, I’m bro­ken and lame
If thine is the glo­ry, mine must be the shame
You want it darker

Hineni, hineni
Hineni, hineni
I’m ready, my lord

Hineni
Hineni, hineni
Hineni

Shitty jobs that don’t exist

I don't think we can fully understand the appeal Trump without realizing just how shitty life has become for a lot of working class white men and their families. Stable, honest union jobs just don't exist anymore. It wasn't so long ago that you could graduate high school, work hard, and have a good life with a rancher and two cars in the driveway. You weren't living large but you had enough for a Disney vacation every couple of years and a nice TV on the living room wall. For a lot of working class families, that just doesn't exist anymore. Now it's astronomical credit card debits, defaults on mortgages, divorces from the stress. Saving for the kids' college or for retirement is just a joke. It's easy to get nostalgic for what's been lost.

A few years ago I wrote about the time when I worked the night shift at the local supermarket. The older guys there had decent-enough stable jobs they had worked at for twenty years, but for the younger guys, the supermarket was just another temporary stop in a never-ending rotation of shit jobs. Sometimes it'd be pumping gas overnight hoping you wouldn't get shot. Other times it'd be working the box store hoping some random manager didn't fire you because he didn't like the way you look. A lot just didn't last at any job.

There was a small core of long-time nightshift crew members and a revolving door of new hires. Some of the new people lasted only a day before quitting and some a week or two, but few remained longer. Many of these temporary employees were poster children for the tragedies of modern twenty-something manhood (night crews were almost all male). One twenty-something white guy was just back from Iraq; he shouted to himself, shot angry looks at us, and was full of jerky, twitchy movements. We all instinctively kept our distance. Over one lunch break, he opened up enough to admit he was on probation for an unspecified offense and that loss of this job would mean a return to prison. When he disappeared after two weeks (presumably to jail), we were all visibly relieved. (Our fears weren’t entirely unfounded: a night crew member from a nearby ShopRite helped plan the 2007 Fort Dix terrorist plot.)

Another co-worker lasted a bit longer. He was older and calmer, an African American man in his late forties who biked in. I liked him and during breaks, we sometimes talked about God. One frosty morning, he asked if I could give him a lift home. As he gave directions down a particular road, I thoughtlessly said, “Oh so you live back past Ancora,” referring to a locally-notorious state psychiatric hospital. He paused a moment before quietly telling me that Ancora was our destination and that he lived in its halfway house for vets in recovery. Despite the institutional support, he too was gone after about a month.

The regulars were more stable, but even they were susceptible to the tectonic shifts of the modern workforce. There was a time not so long ago when someone could graduate high school, work hard, be dependable, and earn a decent working-class living. My shift manager was only a few years older than me, but he owned a house and a dependable car, and he had the nightshift luxury of being able to attend all of his son’s Little League games. But that kind of job was disappearing. Few new hires were offered full-time work anymore. The new jobs were part-time, short-term, and throw-away. Even the more stable “part-timers” drifted from one dreary, often dangerous, job to the next.

You can read the whole piece here:

To be clear: I don't think Trump himself really gives a crap about these people. As I said yesterday, he's all about himself and his fellow rich New Yorkers. The millions of people who voted for him mostly got suckered. That's just how Trump works. He suckers, he raids, he bankrupts, then he moves on (see: Atlantic City). Eight years from now our country will be teetering in bankruptcy again, but that's not the point, not really, not now at least. The American Dream really has disappeared for a lot of people. They'd like to see American made great again.

Summer project: making Goop!

From 1,444 Fun Things to Do with Kids comes goop. Start with 8 ounces of white glue, food col­or­ing, water, and borax.

Com­bine glue, three-fourths cup water, and food col­or­ing in one bowl. In anoth­er bowl, mix one-fourth cup water with one table­spoon Borax, and add this to the first bowl, stir­ring until it forms a Goop ball. Remove the ball. Again com­bine one-fourth cup water with one table­spoon Borax and mix it into the glue mix­ture, stir­ring until anoth­er Goop ball forms. Keep repeat­ing the process until the glue mix­ture is gone. Then knead all the Goop balls togeth­er. Now you’re ready to play by pulling and pat­ting the Goop into strings and unique forms. Store the Goop in an air­tight container.

We only real­ly man­aged one-round of Goop (see video). We also couldn’t find any food col­or­ing on-hand and so made white Goop.

+Matt Taibbi’s latest Rolling Stone piece explains the anger behind #ows: Wall…

Reshared post from +Tim O'Reilly

+Matt Taibbi's latest Rolling Stone piece explains the anger behind #ows: Wall Street Isn't Winning. It's Cheating. Really excellent. Skewers the idea that this is class warfare against the rich, focuses on the tilted playing field.

Embedded Link

Wall Street Isn't Winning It's Cheating | Matt Taibbi | Rolling Stone
I was at an event on the Upper East Side last Friday night when I got to talking with a salesman in the media business. The subject turned to Zucott

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