On The Tenth Day of Blogging, Just Dusty Blogged for Me . . .

…An angry rant from W.T.!

 

W.T. Fuck: Because I’m Less Polite.

 

Hello, friends. W.T. Fuck, here. I’m the last Fuck; sometimes a flying Fuck. When you have no Fucks left to give, I’ll be there. If you are angry as Fuck, annoyed as Fuck, hungry as Fuck – I’ll be there. When someone tells you to go Fuck yourself, you come to me, and I’ll show you how to be a little more like me: yes, I’ll Fuck you right up.

Wondering what the “W.T.” stands for? Good. Keep wondering. Because the W., at least, is rarely the same thing twice. “T.” is short for “the.” You probably guessed that. Well done, you. I owe you a prize gold-plated Fuck.

Today, W. stands for Why. Because today, I’m wondering: Why The Fuck are there computer viruses?

My computer has virus protection software. And it’s expensive. And it slows the computer down, and because it is an older, more tired computer, it screws the poor thing up. Every day the virus protection has to update, and then when it does, it asks me to restart the computer in order to sort out all of the elements of the program, get its little virus-fighting ducks in a row – though I like to think of it as a skirmish line, like in one of those historical war movies where the only thing that matters in winning a battle and saving the nation or the world or Whatever The Fuck they’re fighting for is: holding the line. Then the viruses are a horde of savages come running, screaming, from behind those hills over there, and I picture the pieces of anti-virus software quaking in their little electronic shoes, while some commander yells, “Hold . . . . Hold . . . HOLD!!!” And then the viruses are on them, and they have to fight for their tiny digital lives, and for the preservation of my computer. God bless them for their sacrifice.

So every day when I turn the computer on, it has to run a scan, and figure out which new anti-virus software bits have been sent – reinforcements; nay, The CAVALRY! – and then (after slowing the computer down terribly while it runs this scan and downloads the reserves), it gives me a popup that says it needs to restart. And as annoying as that is, the truly annoying thing is this: when I re-start the computer in order to let it collate all of its newly downloaded anti-malware bits, what does it do? It runs a new scan, and realizes that it has NEW bits of anti-virus protection to download and plug into the newly-carved holes in the line, and it tells me I have to restart AGAIN.

W.T. Fuck.

And sure, the problem would be solved if I bought a newer computer. And it might be solved if I changed virus software companies – mine is McAfee, because I had Norton and then changed, and removing all of the Norton stuff from the computer was worse than the freaking viruses could ever be. I’m sure there are still better anti-virus products out there, several of them probably free. But that’s not the best solution. The best solution is this: EVERYBODY NEEDS TO STOP MAKING VIRUSES AND GET A LIFE. Please. For Fuck’s sake.

I mean, I get that the majority of viruses are money makers. They either steal valuable information, or they perform tasks that someone is willing to pay for, like turning a computer into a spambot so advertisers can get their obnoxious emails into everyone’s inbox, so we can all find out how to keep our dicks harder longer. Especially the ladies. But seriously: if you have the ability and the knowhow to create malware, why can’t you just make something useful and sell it? How about a better grammar checker? Or a spellchecker that would recognize the word “knowhow?” Surely there are better ways to earn a living.

And then there are the viruses that people make for fun. People. Make viruses. For fun. Why The Fuck do people do that? Why The Fuck is it some kind of status symbol in the hacker world to be able to ruin millions of people’s computers? Why The Fuck is that cool? Why The Fuck are people like this?

I suppose there’s no answer. Cool never makes sense. Hackers are like many online people: they think trolling is funny. They think people getting angry is funny. They probably think this blog is hi-larious.

Well, you know what, virus-makers? I don’t give a Fuck. So Fuck off, please, and let me simply enjoy my little computer and my simple little internet needs. Do something useful, for a change: maybe figure out how to keep viruses off my computer without running a new scan every thirty-five minutes. Or better yet: figure out a way to keep my screen clean.

 

– W.T. Fuck.

What the F##k?

For the Ninth Day of Blogging, here’s one from a fellow blogger. A nice message, and I like the title. Give it a read and check out his blog, squeezethespacemanstaco.com

kmelerine's avatarSqueeze the Space Man's Taco

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There I sat in disbelief. On the cold travertine tile surrounding the toilet flange, I chiseled away. Once again, brother-in-law Brett broke the commode. Although forty-five, he remains eternally twelve. Pulsating through the sewer pipes, Brett’s karaoke filled the room. “Living on a prayer,” my ass. The smell of poop was nauseating.

“Can life get any worse than this?” I thought to myself. Just then, a fragment of PVC pipe struck me in the eye. Holding my eyelid shut, I staggered to the medicine cabinet. There was an eye wash kit somewhere in the house and we finally had a need for it. Flipping through random first aid products proved to be pointless. A foreign object was lodged in my eye and the case of Pepto-Bismol we bought at the local wholesale club would do me no good.

“Hey what’s up?” Tilting my head back, I answered my phone.

The worry in my friend’s voice made my eyes open wide. “It’s…

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On the Eighth Day of Blogging, Just Dusty Blogged for Me . . .

…A book review from Purgatoryyyyy!

A quick word: though I have said a lot about the uselessness of New Year’s resolutions, I’m still going to  make something akin to one. Because I’m not against promises, just against them being attached to January 1, and the promise I’m making has little to do with that, as it isn’t bounded on either end by 2017. But the promise is this: books. This year — and beyond — will be about books. I have a book to finish writing, and two books to publish, and at least 100 books to read, before another year has passed. This book is the first of this year, though I started it last year, and don’t actually care what year it is. Point is: books. Lots and lots of books.

This was a good place to start, if starting is what I’m doing.

 

Lost Gods

by Brom

This is the fourth book I’ve read by the illustrator Brom – the other three were The Child Thief, The Devil’s Rose, and the unforgettable Plucker – and I feel about this one much as I felt about the others: Brom has an incredible imagination, a good ability to tell a story, and a thorough obsession with blood and gore and hell. I still think he should stick to the illustrated novels, though, because The Plucker is by far his best work, including this one.

This is a good book. It’s a fantastic cosmology, with Brom following in the footsteps of Jim Butcher and Kevin Hearne and others, finding a way to unify ancient mythologies with the modern monotheistic religions; in this book, set largely in Purgatory/Hades/The Underworld, the idea is that the One Gods (And maybe my favorite word play in this book is that one: the plural “gods” after the number “one”) have taken over from the ancient pagan gods and driven them into the Underworld, where all souls go. There the gods have continued their ways, trying to draw worshipers and maintain their own power and glory, but still losing out to the modern religions and to ambitious and godless men.

Enter our hero, a man with a mission: to save his wife and child. Whatever the cost.

I don’t want to give away more than that – don’t even want to tell you which character is actually the hero, because the first impressions you get, from pretty much every character, are wrong. That was the best part of the novel, for me: the underlying idea that nobody can be taken at face value, neither good nor evil. That was done extremely well in this book, and it kept me guessing all the way. Kept me reading, and enjoying it. There are characters to root for, and ones you hope will be destroyed; many of them end up exactly where you want them to, and it is satisfying. But there are also some that make you change your mind: first you want them to fail, but then you want them to succeed; some of those resolutions were actually the most satisfying.

Other than that, the world-building was great, as I said, and the visuals are brilliant at times: Brom doesn’t always have a great gift for describing things in detail, but the pictures he imagines, and then puts into words, are stunning. It’s why I wish he’d stick with illustrated novels, because when he paints those visuals, then the whole story is elevated to magic. Fortunately, this book has a set of full-color plates, illustrations of the demons and gods in the Underworld, which are beautiful. Combine that with a good fantasy world, a good story, lots of action and violence and blood and gore, and with interesting characters, and this is something worth reading. (And spend the money for the hardback: you want the illustrations full-size. Don’t know what they’ll be like if there’s a paperback. If you find it in a store, check: they’re inset about two-thirds of the way through the novel, in a group. Not necessarily the best part of the book — it is a good story — but they are a necessary part of the book.)

 

In his acknowledgments at the end, Brom says a wonderful thing while thanking his editor for helping him put this book together. He says,
“When I started writing this novel I never stopped to consider the logistical challenges of my idea. I, like so many creatives, don’t have time for such silliness. I needed to plunge in, chase my muse before she slipped away. I did not realize until later that in order to make my particular vision of purgatory believable, I would need not only to invent an entire history, a system of government, a political/social structure for both souls and gods, tie it into all religions, add some kind of monetary system, define magics and spells and powers, but also to invent a physiology for the dead, figure out if souls eat, drink, and if so, what. Can the dead die? If so, how? And, as with most mysteries, answering one question often leads to ten more.”

He’s never been more right. And he’s done a good job of this with Lost Gods. I recommend it.