Let’s make a deal

I saw this article about how the internet went bonkers because supposed-to-have-been-cancelled Awkwafina was in some Disney commercial during the Super Bowl, because prior to the release of Shang-Chi, the internet was offended because she spoke with too much of an urban black affect that she was clearly maliciously culturally appropriating and therefore needed to be boycotted and cancelled.

And after rolling my eyes at the pitiful double standard that it’s okay to lecture and bully Asian people on race because the white people world is so collectively afraid of black people, I just thought that the cool kids world needs to be proposed this idea:

If Asian people can’t speak with black people affects, then black people can’t get tattoos of Asian language.  Deal?  

Seriously.  Speaking on behalf of all Asian people, we will stop speaking with any sort of rapper or black person affect, but all black people, from rappers to NBA players, are prohibited from getting tattoos of any Asian characters on their bodies.  No kanji, no hangul, no katakana, none of it.  And we Asians will never put an affect in our speech, ever again.

Like, I don’t know where people get the nerve to pick this battle so often.  As if Awkwafina is the first person in history that wasn’t black to speak like black people do.  You don’t see the internet trying to cancel Eminem or Pitbull or any other not-black rapper that’s ever made money spitting rhymes.

This is a classic textbook example of Margaret Cho’s observation about how white people love to lecture Asian people on race because they’re afraid to say this stuff to black people.  The internet all white-knighting for black culture at the expense of Asians, because we’re seen as docile and subservient and okay to try and boss around because they know they can’t get away with doing such towards black people.

All the while, all sorts of not-Asian people all think it’s okay and acceptable to tattoo Asian characters on their bodies – because it fucking is.  Freedom exists, and although it might seem silly, white people, black people, Hispanic people, or whatever race there is, is free to tattoo Asian characters on their bodies, and not be criticized to the point where they are suggested to be cancelled.

People who lose their minds over how Awkwafina speaks need to get off their high horses, off her nuts and off of the nuts of Asian people in general, because they’re embarrassing themselves by feeding into a bullshit double standard that they’re too stupid to realize that they’re committing.

Suggesting cancelling someone over how they think someone is speaking is fucking idiotic and anyone who buys into that should cancel themselves for how stupid believing it actually makes them.

Peak America

I read this story about how health care in America is so fucked up, that it creates a perfect scenario for billionaire Mark Cuban to swoop in and get to play hero to the country.  In short, Mark Cuban launched an internet pharmacy that offers more than 100 generic drugs at reasonable cost, which is a bigger deal than it might sound, because American pharmacists have been notorious for gauging the fuck out of the American people over the last decade or so.

Naturally, Cuban is being lauded with acclaim, in addition to people being refueled for their disdain for the pharmaceutical industry for being greedy and valuing profit over human lives.  The thing is, Cuban embarking on this endeavor is about as low-hanging fruit as they come; there are a number of billionaires, corporations, conglomerates or any other entities in the world that could have done this, a long time ago.  The fact that of all the random rich entities in there are, Mark Cuban is the guy that grasps the low bar, and is not only going to look like a modern saint, but make no mistake, he’s going to profit, massively.

I have no qualms with Mark Cuban, in fact I respect the guy tremendously, in spite of the fact that us pleebs are supposed to hate the wealthy.  He’s one of the guys that actually understands the need to give some shit away in order to make money, and such is the core strategy of how he basically transformed the Dallas Mavericks from perennial laughing stocks into eventual champions.

In fact, he’s basically doing the same thing all over again, but instead of basketball tickets, it’s common, necessary medicine.  Just because he’ll be selling generic medicine at a little over 15% over at-cost, he’s undoubtedly going to be raking in massive amounts of money on account of the likely million people who will all be shopping his online pharmacy; all while gaining their adulation at providing such a compassionate service.

It’s basic Wolf of Wall Street math here, sell cheap necessities to the lower classes, and there’s ridiculous amounts of money to be made.  And as much as I too think what Cuban is doing is a very good thing for the world, the sad reality is that he probably shouldn’t have been the party to have had the opportunity to do this; when it really should’ve been the responsibility of, fucking America, to do this for its own people instead.

But I guess without stories like this, America really wouldn’t be America.

Among the list of reasons why I’m leaving my job, continued

I didn’t really intend on doing another post about this, but I had an idea of an analogy in mind, but I never actually got to it, because when I get into the writing zone my fingers take over, and before I knew it, I had blathered on about stocks and I didn’t feel like making some bloated mega post about it and adding this into it when I could separate it and boost my post count instead.

There’s this film on Netflix I saw a while back, called The Platform.  I believe it was a Mexican film, but it was a rather good film, and I highly recommend it to anyone looking for something fresh and unique to rehashed American cinema and doesn’t mind reading subtitles or can understand Spanish.

The film is about this, for lack of a better term, prison, that is an indeterminate number of floors, where every single floor has two people occupying them.  In the center of every single floor is a big, square shaped hole.  Every single day, a large platform descends the hole, sequentially stopping on every single floor for like two minutes.  On the platform is a massive spread of a elaborate feast, and the people on the floors ravenously stuff their faces and eat what they can before the platform descends to the next level below.

Naturally, this means those at the top of the prison have the advantage of having the most available, and cream of the crop foods available to them, and as the platform sinks lower and lower into the prison, eventually runs out of food, leading to those in the lower levels to become violent and homicidal from hunger.

Spoiler alert, here’s the kicker: the amount of food on the platform could modestly feed every single person in the entire prison, if all the people could get on the same page and agree to only eat a set amount.  However, naturally that is an impossibility when you have so many different personalities, so it’s a system perfectly designed to ensure chaos is always maintained.

So, back to the analogy: at my job, every single department has a pool of money (the platform) in which employees typically get their seemingly given, annual 2.5% cost of living wage increase, at the very minimum.  There is a nominal amount more in the pool, for deserving employees to get a little bit than 2.5%, but for the most part, these pools are set so that pretty much everyone could get their, at the very least, their cost-of-living increase, because the world is always getting more expensive, and that 2.5% goes a long way with keeping up with society.

Over the last two years, I’ve received 1.68 and 2.2% wage increases, in spite of all the contributions I’ve made to my team.  I’m not trying to inflate my contributions to the team, but I did design the exact workflow and process that kept my entire fucking team afloat for the last three years, and steered the car steady despite it being a volatile and explosive Ford Pinto, so I think I would’ve at least, deserved my fucking 2.5%.

I’d like to blame my shitty bosses for these shitty raises, but to their credit, the problem is actually those within the prison that exist higher than all of us.  They’re basically wolfing down all of the food from the platform by giving themselves and their cliquey accomplices elevated raises, and by the time the platform gets down to my level, there’s barely anything left to give me, or my subordinates.

As shitty as my wage increases have been, I’ve had to go the last two years trying to explain to my reports why they’re now getting these sub-2% raises when they’ve all been getting 2.5%+ every year before the recent ones.

The difference is, in The Platform, floor assignments change randomly every single week, and pairs could be on floor 4 one week, and then be on floor 201 the next.  At my job, those who are at the bottom of the prison usually remain there, and short of some dignity-robbing ass-kissing and joining the cliques of the company, is usually impossible to get to a higher floor to where there might be some food left on the platform.

Aside from the shitty raises, my primary reason for leaving is simply the fact that I’ve identified that within my department exists something of an inner circle of people, to where pretty much every position of power within it, is occupied by someone in it, and those not in it, don’t seem to be able to climb the ladder.  I’ve watched people who came into the company at the same time or later than me, rocket past my position in the company, and it’s not difficult to see how, based on the people they fraternize with.

I actually tried to make a move within the department, during a re-org.  I identified a position under a boss I used to work under, and I thought it would be a good fit.  However, when I learned that the interviewing would be done by several people, among them being some inner circle people, I kind of knew that my chances were dust.

In essence, I should thank the experience, because it was upon getting that rejection did it dawn on me that I should probably consider that I should be the one who needed to leave the company.  The clarity gained has been invaluable, and fuck the stocks and the shitty raises, I have succeeded at getting the fuck out of a toxic environment, and hopefully the next chapter of my career will prove to be a successful upgrade.

Among the list of reasons why I’m leaving my job

As I wind down my tenure at *Fortune 50 company redacted* I’ve actually been feeling not nearly as sentimental as I thought I might.  The constant struggling of parenthood, living in the pandemic world where the exposure has actually succeeded at getting into my home, and the lack of general farewell tour that most long-time associates of my company get have put me in a position to where I’m burning down my candle very quietly and discreetly, while the rest of my team solders forward preparing for another year of likely tumult and aggravation.

It suits me fine though, because as I’m winding down my list of things I’m trying to accomplish before I leave, one of them was to resolve the matter of my company stock that I have.  I know very little about stocks, in spite of my general fascination with the culture from movies like Boiler Room and The Wolf of Wall Street, but I figured it would be a good idea to partake in the employee stock purchasing capabilities I was privy to once I was promoted into my managerial position. 

Additionally, employees in my position are awarded vesting shares on an annual basis, to which my understanding is kind of like a loaded gun to hold at your head that only pays out once you’ve been with the company for 24-36 months, with the maturation being full at 36, but still eligible for some payout at 24.  Seeing as how I’ve been with the company for a few years, I’ve received my cut of vesting shares, and since I’m on my way out, I wanted to see just how much I’d be able to cash out, and just how much I’ll be forfeiting.

Of course, this wouldn’t be a brog post if it wasn’t some tragic failure or example of irony, and there’s little better subject of a post than things fucking up in my life, and this is a prime example of it, and feeds to the general frustration and disenchantment and serves as a reminder at just why I’m leaving this job.

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R.I.P. Braves Minor Leagues

Source: Endeavor Group Holdings purchases nine minor league baseball teams, among them the Atlanta Braves’ AAA, AA and High-A minor league affiliates in Georgia and Mississippi

Since few people other than me really gives two shits about Minor League Baseball, how it works is that scattered all across the country are minor league baseball teams, with wacky names, goofy promotions, and smaller ballparks, who affiliate themselves with the 30 Major League Baseball organizations, where the baseball players of tomorrow work on their game and hopefully grow into useful players for the parent Major League club.

However, in a number of exceptions, there are occasionally some minor league teams, that are outright owned by their parent clubs.  The Yankees, Cubs, Cardinals, Giants are examples of teams that one one or more of their affiliates.  The Braves, own four of their affiliates: Danville (rookie), Rome (High-A), Mississippi (AA) and Gwinnett (AAA).  Presumably, ownership of affiliates grants higher control and micromanagement of these clubs, and probably among the highest of priority is geographical lockdown of clubs, so that they never have to play musical chairs with their minor league clubs for when affiliation contracts expire.

But over the last two years, and most definitely not at all helped by the pandemic, minor league baseball has been in somewhat trouble, as far as its future is concerned.  Even before the pandemic, there was lots of discussion of cutting large swaths of teams from MLB affiliation, and even rejiggering the whole holistic organization of minor league systems.  If I had to guess, money is at the root of all this, considering the mass whistleblowing that had been occurring about how minor league players and personnel make less money than your average McDonald’s worker, and how cogs in a machine that earns billions annually, can allow this to happen. 

All the same though, it appears that the Braves and several other franchises have decided to cut their obligations, even at the potential expense of control, and sell off their minor league affiliates.  Make no mistake, these are entirely financial moves, and if I had to guess, the teams who have sold franchises probably all feel that the future of minor league baseball is too murky and uncertain for them to want to risk carrying the financial obligations of having their own minor league organizations.  By selling them off now, they are basically betting that these teams will more likely suffer mediocre earnings if not outright fail in business, than becoming the next Dayton Dragons and sell out every game for 18 straight years.

The perception is definitely cold and callous, and to a degree sad for baseball fans and purists alike.  No matter what, money controls everything in baseball as it unfortunately influences most everything else in everyday ordinary life.

However, there is very bright and silver lining to this.  I don’t know who Endeavor Group or their slave companies who will ultimately operate these teams are, but now that these minor league franchises are all cut free from their parent organizations, the world is now their oyster when it comes to promoting these squads.

Continue reading “R.I.P. Braves Minor Leagues” →

Is there anything in existence more useless than Dugout Mugs?

I mean, if I took the time to research and actually look, I’m sure I could find a countless number of things, but serious question here, is there anything more unnecessarily needed than mugs made out of baseball bats?

This is actually a topic that brewed last year that I never got to, but seeing as how we’re in the thick of the World Series now, advertising for this bullshit has reached fever pitch, and I’m getting targeted ads and seeing auto-playing bullshit videos for this crap all over again, and now I’m bragging about it.

Seriously, when I first saw this shit last year, I’m thinking to myself, “hey, the world is in a fucking pandemic, and I’m thankful my daughter is too young to realize just how fucked up everything is outside our doors.  You know what I need?  A fucking mug made out of a baseball bat.”

Maybe if it were any other year than 2020, I would’ve rolled my eyes and ignored just how much bullshit Dugout Mugs are, but the timing of them being pushed to the moon in the middle of a pandemic, I had a hard time swallowing why anyone would want a fucking bored out baseball bat, instead of like I dunno, some PPE or maybe a fucking vaccine?

It just epitomized the ridiculousness of American capitalism and the existence of all sorts of shit that doesn’t need to exist, and Dugout Mugs just made me mad every time I saw them getting shilled.

Like, I googled them just to see how much they’d cost, and a single fucking pint is $70.  Seventy fucking dollars, for a hollowed-out bat head.  Maybe it’s slightly oil-treated, and has a laser-engraving of my favorite team’s logo on it.  But it’s still a fucking piece of wood, which also means it’s not dishwasher safe, and by the looks of it, cleaning the inside of it will require a brush, since any adult human’s hand would probably not be able to wedge inside the bowl to clean with a sponge.

No fucking thanks, I’d rather drink out of cans or bottles, or the litany of novelty pint glasses that I’ve collected throughout the years from my favorite locals or microbreweries, that I can then throw in the dishwasher and clean and dry it without worrying about it warping or rotting.

I hate these so much that it might do the Braves a solid if I say that I’ll buy an Astros Dugout Mug if the Braves can win the World Series, just so I can tempt fate and control the universe into delivering me a Braves championship, just so I can suffer the punishment of having to plunk down $70 I’d rather spend on anything else, on something I really abhor.