Taking the Scam to the Next Level

MAGA is a scam.  There is a pantheon of grifters ranging from the dangerous, powerful Vulgarmort to s host of lesser luminaries of varying malevolence.  Among these lesser luminaries is one Vincent Fusca, a kinda grubby guy in a silly hat who has become a minor celebrity among the lunatic fringe of the MAGA movement:

Many QAnon believers think this man, Vincent Fusca, is JFK Jr in disguise. Now he’s here at CPAC! Fusca says he’s approached “all over the place” by people who believe he’s JFK Jr. pic.twitter.com/9hsTsfr5qi

— Will Sommer (@willsommer) February 27, 2020

Well, he DOES look like he's been through a plane crash...  He's mostly harmless, though he did crash his special Trump van and tried to grift 50K from the rubes.  His real schtick is going to Trump rallies and trying to score with MAGA Mamas of a certain age:

Vincent Fusca, whom some QAnon followers believe is the living JFK Jr, spent his Independence Day at the Trump International Hotel in DC getting his picture taken with QAnon followers.

Men have spun lots of lies to meet women, but "I'm the resurrected JFK Jr" might be the GOAT. pic.twitter.com/nL2GZY1mDW

— Travis View (@travis_view) July 6, 2019

I can't blame a guy with trying to get some action, as long as everybody is a consenting adult.

Now, Fusca has decided to throw his stupid, ubiquitous hat into the ring as a state senatorial candidate in his native Pennsylvania:

We are now up to 𝟓𝟑 current or former congressional candidates for 2022 who have endorsed/given credence to/promoted QAnon at some level. The newest addition is Vincent Fusca, a PA Senate candidate, seen here at a QAnon conference saying the QAnon slogan https://t.co/vjEl7q4Xzf pic.twitter.com/cqjgUItBHD

— Alex Kaplan (@AlKapDC) January 31, 2022

I don't think he'll get very far because he's a mush-mouthed, mush-brained hobo, but there's always a chance- I mean, the US elected a doughy, mush-brained carnival barker as president.  Here's to you, Vincent Fusca, for taking the grift to the next level.  If I had a stupid hat, I'd tip it to you.

Required Crypto-Economy Listening

I find myself fascinated, yet repulsed by cryptocurrencies, those weird funny monies backed by the full faith and credit of sketchy Libertarian techbros.  In current news, a hack of a decentralized finance platform resulted in the loss of $80 million (so valued) of crypocurrency.  Hilarity ensued when the administrators of the platform begged the hacker(s) to return the money.  I know Libertarians are naive, but this is precious:

pic.twitter.com/G1WOMglVUU

— Qubit Finance (@QubitFin) January 28, 2022

For a good primer of cryptocurrencies and the related (both are powered by blockchain technology) Non Fungible Token market, I recommend the Scam Economy podcast, hosted by reliable lefty and internet nice guy Matt Binder.  In his first episode, he interviews cryptocurrency expert David Gerard, who explains seemingly complicated concepts in simple terms.  Blockchains?  They are basically immutable ledgers, glorified spreadsheets which can be added to, but not deleted from.  He talks about cryptocurrencies being what a Bloomberg journalist termed a 'Stimulus Led Fad' that involves a lot of wash trading, collusion in trading to hype, and pump, up an asset.

Gerard also talks about how automated, non-alterable programs, dubbed the Iron Will of Unstoppable Code by blockchain aficianados, really turn out to be sitting ducks for hackers, being difficult to alter to improve security.  He also notes that this immutability goes out the window as soon as the big boys start losing money- the small fry are not so lucky.  

He also discusses the computer functions used to 'mine' cryptocurrency- a useless 'proof of work' which is very energy intensive.

This discussion of 'nerd money ripped off from nerds' is fascinating, and entertaining, the sort of deep dive expressed in laypersons' terms which can help explicate a subject which is... uhhhh... cryptic.  Do yourself a favor and listen, it really breaks down this topic which is typically obfuscated by layers of technobabble.

Can't Get There From Here... Not by Transit

Last night, I had planned on taking public transportation to work this afternoon, but while listening to the local all-news radio station, I learned that the county bus system had cancelled service for the day, due to the weather.  Typically, I would take the 25 bus to the Yonkers train station, and take the Metro-North Hudson Line train to the vicinity of my workplace.  I found myself in a 'can't get there from here' situation, and was trying to figure out the best way to go south to go north, using the NYC Subway.  This would have entailed walking to the Woodlawn terminus of the 4 Train, then transferring to the downtown Number 2 train at 149th St, and taking the 2 to 96th St, where I could transfer to the uptown 1 train, taking it to Marble Hill, where I could catch the Metro North train, several stops south of my beloved Yonkers.

Doing the math, and noting that the temperatures were in the teens, making both walking and waiting on various platforms unpleasant at best, and fraught at worst.  I decided to brave the roads.  While small, my car is a little workhorse- it has front-wheel drive and a manual transmission, so it handles pretty well in the snow.  

The worst part of the drive was the hilly street on which I park- it hadn't been plowed, but there had been a significant amount of traffic, judging by the wheel ruts in the snow.  With low gear, and facing downward, I was able to maneuver out of my parking spot and into the wheel ruts, then drove to the bottom of the hill to the fairly well-trafficked road, timing it perfectly to make the traffic light.  I really try to avoid having to stop, and more crucially, start, when driving in the snow.  From there, I made it to the main commercial drag, where the roadway had been plowed relatively well.  I drove to the Thruway service road, and once I merged onto the Thruway, it was smooth riding.  Exiting from the Thruway, I stuck to major roads.  There had been lower snowfall in these northern parts than in my beloved Yonkers.  When I arrived on the job, the lot had been plowed, and a local DPW plow/salt truck was parked in the lot as the driver took a break. This was a most welcome sight.

I'm working a double overnight, because my coworker covered the graveyard shift I typically work.  Besides, who the hell wants to be on the road at midnight after a heavy snowfall and subsequent deep freeze?  Better to let the plows and salters work unimpeded throughout the night.  Right now, I am contemplating whether to drive home or not, mainly because I suspect that finding a parking spot tomottow morning might be an ordeal... I might have to park six blocks away, near the local school.  I have all night to ponder this dilemma, by which I mean finding out if the buses are running.  

So, now, it's time to hunker down, brew a pot of coffee, and be glad that I'm inside.

First Nor'easter of the 2022 Season

The weather forecast for this weekend was dire- a Nor'easter is expected to dump up to a foot of snow in the region, accompanied by gusty winds.  Some of the more dire forecasts indicate that a bomb cyclone may occur, which will produce whiteout conditions.  As I always do before a major storm hits, I gassed up the car.  In an annoying development, I could not find the shovel I typically keep in my car (you never know when you'll need to smack some asshole with a shovel), so I had to purchase a replacement, an Ames Tools long-handled square point shovel... with its compact metal head, it is more useful in chopping packed snow from around a plowed-in car, and is better configured for lifting snow than a cumbersome snow shovel, which is properly employed as a mini snowplow.  I'm not so vain to think that straining while shoveling snow is somehow 'macho'.

I had planned on heading to work this afternoon and working straight through until tomorrow morning, but my coworker took this task upon himself, for which I am grateful.  I will be returning the favor tomorrow, and if the roads are still a mess, I will rely on public transportation to travel to and from the job.  I really don't want to have to dig up the entire neighborhood in order to get a parking spot, not if I can leave my car where it is.

Tomorrow is going to be a l-o-n-g day, involving shoveling snow in the vicinity of the house, and a multi-hour commute, but right now, I am sitting snug and smug at home.  I'll pop outside for a bit to gauge the snowfall, but there's no urgency- it's not like I have to be at work at midnight.

Granuaile Would Be Proud

I identify as multi-ethnic, the descendant of various European cultures who met and mixed in the New York metropolitan area.  I derive much pride in the various heritages that I can claim, especially when one of my peoples does something valiant.

That being said, I stand in awe of the Irish fishermen who are planning to disrupt a Russian naval exercise off of Ireland's western shore.  The Republic of Ireland has been steadfastly neutral since its inception (not always to the credit of the nation- I can also feel shame as well as pride in my peoples), thus it has never jointed NATO.  The Irish navy consists of nine vessels (as opposed to the French Navy, which consists of a yearning, plaintive vocal).  Thus, it is up to the fishing fleet to intervene when the naval fleet cannot.  Rachel Maddow had some good coverage of this potential confrontation:

 

Besides disrupting the lives of marine animals, the very resource the fishermen depend on, the Russian Navy has been implicated in sabotaging undersea cables.  At any rate, they seem to be up to no good, and the anglers aren't taking this lying down.  

These are valiant people, the sort of people who brave the North Atlantic's perilous waters on a daily basis to earn their living.  The inhabitants of Ireland's west coast have always been an anti-authoritarian lot- they are worthy successors to Granuaile, who would be proud of their resistance to a foreign oppressor.

A Tome to Treasure

Last night, I headed over to have dinner with some old friends, brothers that I have known since high school.  Both of them have relocated to California, and I hadn't seen the two of them under the same roof in years.  I often say that there's no trip like the nostalgia trip, and last night was no exception- I couldn't shake the feeling of being nineteen again, and being dans la maison with the buds.

There was a slight tinge of melancholy to the proceedings- they were both in town to help their mom, a lovely and hospitable woman, clean out the house so she could move out to California after the death of the paterfamilias, and be closer to her children and grandchildren.  They were throwing out old papers and going through the books, deciding which ones to keep and which to discard.  Dad, who had succumbed to COVID in 2020 at the age of 85, was a professor of Slavic languages at New York University and, being a multilingual public intellectual, had a plethora of books in every room of the house,  As a funny aside, he had a series of books by a poet who used to write him a Christmas card, with an enclosed poem every year, but the missus noted that she never really saw him reading poetry, that she believed he had these books to foster the writings of a countryman.  

Hearing this, I joked, "He may not have had a love for poetry, but he had a love for poets."

Among the books was one glorious tome, a gorgeously illustrated facsimile of a codex written in Church Slavonic, an epic history of the campaigns of Prince Dmitry, accompanied by translations into modern Russian and English.  Inscribed in the title page of the book was a dedication from the woman who had given him this beautiful book, a grad student from Korea.  After thanking the Good Professor for his mentorship, she apologized for the presumptuousness of a student giving a book to a teacher, perhaps implying that the learner was now the master.  I imagine the Professor, a kindly, avuncular man, got a good chuckle at the idea that he could ever be offended by this sweet gesture.

It was an emotional moment, hearing this dedication to a man who I considered a friend, a generous host, and a low-key-yet-important role model.  My relationship to the Professor was quite different from this student's relationship to him, but I know we valued him equally.

Techbro Tax? No, Just Value Vanishing

I have to confess that I have a bit of a fascination with cryptocurrencies, though I view them with revulsion... a good friend of mine got involved in Bitcoin soon after it was formulated, and made a bundle.  Here's where I note that individuals who get in early on a pyramid scheme tend to do very well- the late adopters, not so well.

Last week, I posted about the current cryptocurrency crash, today I will address the travails of a couple of individuals foolish enough to jump on the cryptocurrency bandwagon this late in the game.  The first cautionary tale about someone who puts their trust in the full faith and credit of anonymous Randian techbros is NYC's new mayor Eric Adams, who elected to take his first three paychecks in Bitcoin- with the crash, he lost just about ten percent of the value of his first paycheck due to the crash.

The second cautionary tale here involves professional football player Odell Beckham, Jr, who also decided to receive his financial remuneration in cryptocurrency.  This is sheer insanity:

The amount of people applauding players changing their salary into Bitcoin as if they were heroes has been comical.

Rams WR Odell Beckham Jr., at least in the moment, provides a cautionary tale. pic.twitter.com/uW0QDdJrYy

— Darren Rovell (@darrenrovell) January 23, 2022

At least he isn't beholden to the fiat currency backed by corrupt, well-established institutions such as governments and financial institutions.

Again, I note that early adopters of cryptocurrencies will do well, they are at the top of the pyramid.  These tyros, jumping on the bandwagon, are left holding the bag- it's as if they paid a techbro tax for their naïveté, but unlike tax payments, the value simply disappeared, to the benefit of nobody.