He must be loving this shit.
He’s a walking, talking cartoon character with incalculable power who lives for TV, and impeachment is unfolding like episodes in an HBO series. The orange Dr. Manhattan* won’t take the stage until the end is nigh.
What next? Don’t touch that dial! Stay tuned!
* In the original Watchmen comic, of course, Dr. Manhattan went to Vietnam … and won the war. He also ran around mostly butt-nekkid, but let’s not think about that with this version.
It’s one thing to suspect it, and another thing to have it dumped in your lap by The Washington Post.
“Every data point was altered to present the best picture possible,” Bob Crowley, an Army colonel who served as a senior counterinsurgency adviser to U.S. military commanders in 2013 and 2014, told government interviewers. “Surveys, for instance, were totally unreliable but reinforced that everything we were doing was right and we became a self-licking ice cream cone.”
Except ice cream cones taste good. This tastes like death.
Indeed it did. And so it begins, the Decline and Fall of the iPhone 5.
The New York Times apparently has cooked up an app update that my device can’t digest — the iPhone 5 peaked at iOS version 10.3.4, while the NYT demands 11 or better — and now I can’t surf the shit monsoon from my 7-year-old phone. Woe, etc.
Asked for comment, the NYT Customer Care Crew advises, “We are no longer supporting older versions of the NYT app,” adding that geezers in thrall to antiquated technology should “use the mobile browser to access all content on nytimes.com.”
So I sez back to ’em, I sez: “Thanks for the reply. I already figured that out. The iPhone 5 maxes out at iOS 10.3.4, so using v9.11 of your app is not an option. I’m disappointed to learn that the NYT has dropped support for older versions of the app. My iPhone is elderly, to be sure, but not yet senile. For instance, The Washington Post app continues to work just fine.”
Stick that in your pipe and smoke it, Sonny Jim. Then get off of my lawn.
It’s not this iPhone’s first step on the slippery techno-slope, of course. I’ve already had to replace the battery once, and the Phone app itself has developed the palsy, seizing up and even crashing from time to time.
I can fix that, as I always keep a large hammer within reach. But first, I should probably unbox the iPhone SE that’s been hanging around idle for the past few months. Naturally, it, too, is a discontinued model, slated for the boneyard — and rumor has it that the Wizards of Cupertino are working on a bigger-and-better model for release early in 2020.
But mine will run the latest and greatest version of iOS. For now, anyway.
Himself turned 70 today. Many more to him. You really gotta hold on, Thomas me lad.
Gosh. Il Douche won’t mount any sort of defense as the House Judiciary Committee contemplates articles of impeachment.
Imagine my surprise.
I don’t suppose it has anything to do with knowing that he’d come out looking like a purse dog that went three rounds with the Hound of the Baskervilles.
No, better he should stay all bunkered up, hiding behind various knaves, minions, and varlets, tweeting like a hyperactive budgie, and wait until The Turtle can run interference for him in the Senate, where he has the home-field advantage.
I’d like to have the lip-balm and breath-mint concessions at that ass-kissing contest. A couple days of the big money and I could retire, is what.
Mad Blog Media 