DIETING WITHOUT DIGNITY – Marilyn Armstrong

FOWC with Fandango – Dieting Without Dignity

While Wearing Hand Cuffs, Leg Irons,
an Electronic Ankle Bracelet and a Muzzle

So I open Daily Kos this morning and read this:

Wednesday morning, Trump followed it up with a series of tweets thanking Wayne Allyn Root for praising him, quoting Root as having said that “President Trump is the greatest President for Jews and for Israel in the history of the world, not just America, he is the best President for Israel in the history of the world…and the Jewish people in Israel love him… ….like he’s the King of Israel. They love him like he is the second coming of God…But American Jews don’t know him or like him. They don’t even know what they’re doing or saying anymore. It makes no sense!”

Like he’s the King of Israel. Like he is the second coming of God. Trump heard someone say that and instead of rolling his eyes, he tweeted it like these rantings were something we all needed to hear. And who’s Wayne Allyn Root? He’s a conspiracy theorist who, like Trump, spent the Obama years as a birther. He pushed Seth Rich conspiracy theories. He said that the Las Vegas mass shooting, which turned out to have been committed by non-Muslim white guy Stephen Paddock, was “Clearly Coordinated Muslim Terror attack.” So at least we have a clear guide on how reliable Root’s assessment of Trump is. 

If you wonder how in the world people who call themselves Christians could be following Trump, by now you have got to realize you are probably not delusional. It’s those so-called fake Christians. The crazies have taken over the asylum, but we are all living in it.

I don’t even know where to start. I’m pretty sure Saul was the last “King of Israel” and there hasn’t been any since. And Trump’s special Christians worship him as if he is the second coming of God.


The King of Israel. Second Coming of God.
Trump really IS the antichrist. One of a small troop!

Doesn’t that make someone else’s hair stand on end? Does he think he is the antichrist or is that just one of his many goals? Has his mental vacuity and derangement gone over the wall and dropped into Nevernever NEVER Land?

I’m not even sure who he thinks he is attacking at this point. I am pretty sure that this isn’t the way to any White House I’ve heard about — and if it is, we deserve what we get because we really are too stupid to run a country.

I don’t know whether I’m insulted because I’m a Jew, insulted because I’m a human being with normal intelligence without a bump-stock AR-15, or just insulted because we have a president who has the IQ of an earthworm.  That’s probably an insult to earthworms.

For a man who has never taken a risk for his country, never taken up arms, has insulted the military, the FBI, the CIA, not to mention all of our national security, and refused to protect the country he was supposed sworn to serve  — and now he’s mad at Denmark because they are disinclined to discuss selling Greenland to Trump (he’d bankrupt it anyway plus he’d never pay Denmark the money he owed).

If he wasn’t causing so much damage to animals, humanism, the Earth’s climate while refusing to protect America from its enemies it’s own terrorists, he would be hilarious. He is hilarious. It’s just my sense of humor isn’t working as well as it used to.

He may be the greatest president ever because I think he’s going to be the only one who managed to disassemble the country leaving only a pile of ashes and plastic straws by which to remember us.


By the way, did you know that ashes are very good for getting water stains off wood surfaces? If you rub it on the damaged wood, it will lift the watermark. You might as well get some useful information out of this.

So you see? He isn’t worthless. He could be a housemaid. In handcuffs and leg irons with someone following him around with an AR-15, bump stock and all, just to make sure he doesn’t try to run away. Should we also add one of those electronic leg bracelets? Maybe include a micro-identifier under his skin so, like a dog, he can be scanned by the local veterinarian?

I bet my dogs would bite him and they don’t bite anyone who isn’t holding a hamburger.

He can be our very first slave. Since he seems sure we never had any slavery, he can be the first and surely the only one with orange hair.

My house needs a very thorough cleaning. Send him my way. After he gets done with the dusting, floor washing, laundry, and tidying up, he can do some of the neglected yard-work.

While we are at it, we’ll put him on a diet. I’m sure it will improve the state of his gigantic ass.

ALL THOSE COMPUTERS: WHAT A MESS! – Marilyn Armstrong

Our computers have gone wacko.

I think it started when the last upgrades (calling them upgrades is absurd since they have made a mess of all the computers in the house — Macs and PCs alike. Google, Microsoft, iPad, and MacBook Air have decided to link to each other and I can’t tell what’s going on with any machine.

I want one that says “enraged.”

They no longer remember whose password works with which account. This is not a problem if you are the only user in your house, but here, it’s getting absolutely tragic. It isn’t just a Windows. It’s just as bad on the Macs. Maybe worse because for reasons I don’t entirely understand, we seem to have more Mac-operated devices than PC devices — and I don’t actually like Macs. I just own them.

The only electronics that still know what’s going on are the Kindles and they are Android. Everything else is a mess.

Oh, I almost forgot. Garry has a Chromebook. Since it’s a Google machine, it’s a mess, too.

All the endless “alterations” made to WordPress have slowed it down so half the time, it doesn’t even remember your name or password from one use to the next. How many times do you try to answer a comment on your own site only to be told that you have to “sign-in”?

Since you are signed in, it gets interesting.

Meanwhile, when they ask for passwords, they don’t specify what password they want. Is that the WordPress password or the Google password? One of each? Maybe looking for the computer’s key number? Plus the password? Which password? The one you had to add today or the one they made you add yesterday and the day before?

And it has to be COMPLETELY DIFFERENT than any other password you use … as if you even remember your other passwords.

Each and every one of your passwords is supposed to be unique and not like any of the other passwords you use. Right. That’s what everyone does. Except I can’t remember any of my passwords anyway.

Seriously, can anyone remember that many passwords? Even if you write them down, the one you last wrote down may not be the one they are looking for. It might be the one before that or the one you were using a month ago. Only a hacker can figure it out and he/she is the one person you don’t want to figure it out.

ARRGGGH!

I used to have my own inbox and Garry had his. Our tools and internet links were linked to our email passwords. NOW you need a password for Google, for your inbox, and sometimes, they don’t seem to know what they want the password for. Meanwhile, the password manager stopped working, too.

They tell you your password doesn’t work, but it’s the same one you used yesterday and last night and finally, it starts to work again … and this is after you’ve been battling with it for an hour to accept a new password only to ultimately be told you can’t get a new password because you have an old password, so now you need a new email account — but I don’t have another mail account — and when I’m about ready to give up and throw everything out the window — which is when everything starts to work again. More or less.

What???

I have NO idea what’s going on. I sign in with my email account, but only Garry’s header shows up. Or Garry signs in with his password and MY headers show up. I don’t know what they think they are doing, but it’s a godawful mess. I’m pretty sure the last set of upgrades totally screwed the pooch.

Garry has an upgrade waiting on his iPad and he’s afraid to let it run. I don’t blame him. My last upgrade on the PC and the Mac were BOTH disasters. How are your machines running?

All my computers are a mess — and I haven’t done anything to them. This is the stuff they are doing.

I don’t know what they are trying to achieve, but it’s not working. I wish they would stop. If you think I’m confused, just imagine how GARRY feels.

THE NIGHTMARE JOBS OF YOUTH – Marilyn Armstrong

I complain about getting old, but occasionally, I remember being young wasn’t exactly perfect, either. Mostly, it was work. Men were one problem (especially the men AT work), but work itself and some of the monsters who ran the companies for which I worked … well … they were a special breed. I hear it’s worse now. 

I find that hard to believe. How much worse can it be? Between the sleazy offers of sex behind the office door and the micromanagement, not to mention the realization that the harder you worked, the more work you’d be given to do — and realizing that as a woman, you’d probably never get a raise or even a high five — how bad can it get?


As a retiree, I had more than 40 years of work full-time work. Of the 40 years of work, 30 of them involved working for bad-tempered, sleazy, mean-spirited bosses.

Were they born that way or did they grow into their positions?

There was the job for which I was paid exceptionally well. I was being paid to do absolutely nothing. I was assigned to sit all day in front of a computer and look busy. I was not allowed to fall asleep or read a book. I could not play a game or write a personal letter.

I had to sit there and stare at the screen. Worse, I had to “work” overtime. A standard 8-hour day was not enough. I had to continue the farce for 9 or 10 hours. Because the contract agency that put me in the job had to prove we were “necessary” by forcing us to do overtime … or an extra hour or two of doing nothing.

I am told there are people who crave such jobs. For me, it was torture. I couldn’t wait to move on.

There was the job where I was paid top dollar, had a gorgeous office. And nobody cared what I did. They only hired me because one big contract needed a manual. My job was to write it.

No one read it. Not only didn’t they read it, they also didn’t edit it or check to make sure it was accurate. I could have filled it with nursery rhymes or doodles. All they wanted to know was “Is it big and heavy?” and “Does it look impressive?” People wonder why manuals aren’t as good as they should be!

Working under a micro-manager is a special experience, especially for a writer. I had a few of them.

These are the bosses who stand behind you. You can hear them breathe, feel their hot air breath on your neck. Yuk. They watch with eagle-eyes to make sure you are doing Your Job and Nothing But Your Job. For me, that means I can’t do my job.

I’m a writer. I can’t write with someone watching over my shoulder. The micro-managers also stands by the door in the morning hoping to bag any worker who has the temerity to show up a millisecond late. I was once called on the carpet — really tore me a new one — for being three minutes late.

The good part? When I made a serious mistake and forgot to insert a full-page color advertisement in the middle of the magazine — just omitted it entirely which no doubt cost the company serious money — it wasn’t any worse than the dressing down than I’d gotten for being three minutes late. It’s like when you yell at your kids or dogs all the time and you realize, they aren’t listening.

If you yell at your employees for everything, after a while, they become numb and nothing you do or say has any effect. To quote Teddy Roosevelt, “Speak softly and carry a big stick.” That works better, though it didn’t get him re-elected.

I had a truly stupid job at college. Briefly. The work was easy. I was the receptionist. Some annoying women came in and asked me my name. I told her. She said, “I don’t like that name. Do you mind if I call you Jane?”

I looked at her, “Yes, I mind. My name is Marilyn. Mrs. Armstrong to you.” I got fired. I didn’t mind. It was a horrible job anyhow.

This is not the time or place to discuss the wonderful jobs, the terrific bosses, or the great work I’ve had the honor to do. The awful jobs — mostly — didn’t last long. The good ones (mostly) made up for the bad ones.

Retirement is the payback for professional suffering. I love retirement. It’s the bestest job of all.

AUGUST: DOG AND OTHER DAYS – Marilyn Armstrong

August 2012 through 2019

A little photographic journey around the northeastern end of the American continent.

Photo: Garry Armstrong

Rockport, Massachusetts at sunrise

I didn’t have a single fire pump for Cee’s challenge, so I went back through seven years of August. From Glocester to Rockport, from Connecticut to Maine … these are the hot, humid, hazy days of late summer in New England.