— A USSA Visit Update

Lead off with the best (only?) good thing?

Attempting to engage in substantive blogging while visiting the so-called United Soviet States of America seems rather futile. However, I can at least provide some updates. It’s early Sunday morning; I’ve been here since early Friday, and naturally, spending time with family remains the most crucial and enjoyable aspect, regardless of location.

I’ll touch on the other best part. I’ve already shared the highlight: acquiring quality beef and grilling it to perfection. While Thailand does offer good beef, the price point is similar in real cost. Yet, in Thailand, you can indulge in excellent pork, chicken, and an array of seafood at a fraction of the cost, which makes one question the rationale behind buying much beef there. When my brother inquired about my meal preference, I requested ribeye steaks, about 500 grams each. Suffice it to say, I was quite stuffed afterward, and I’ll include photos of my plate and other snapshots below.

… I can imagine some may grow weary, irritated, or bored with my constant comparisons, as if I’m gloating about living in Thailand. It’s not about that. Rather, coming to America fills me with profound sadness. I’m old enough to remember what it used to be and have enough experience to know what it ought to be. I do not hesitate to judge it harshly, placing the blame squarely on conservatives, evangelical Christians, and what I dub the 2nders (the wankers who complained about their gun shows being cancelled as their churches were being shuttered). Since the 1970s, Republicans have been all talk and no action—it’s time to stick a fork in it; it’s done.

From my perspective, this place is far from a free country. It lacks even 10% of the personal autonomy one experiences elsewhere. Everything is so damn punitive. As many know, I quit drinking 17 months ago, but haven’t yet tackled smoking. I’m not a heavy smoker, but upon returning, I sought out my American Spirit Yellows, which are unavailable in Thailand. The tobacco is tightly packed, and I rarely smoke one entirely in one go.

When my father and I stopped for gas on the way to the homestead around zero-dark-thirty Friday morning, I decided to buy a pack. Four years ago when I departed the USSA, they were already exorbitantly priced at around five or six bucks. Having no cash yet and tapping my debit card, I was shocked to see the price had skyrocketed to $18.50—nearly a dollar per cigarette. Some might say this is good for me, but it’s not—and fuck you—it’s part of a punitive society. American culture now seems obsessed with punishing those who do not conform to certain lifestyles, and the worst proponents of this are Christian conservative Republicans. They seek to bind you, demanding allegiance to their imaginary friend. This is the root cause…original Puritanical curtailment, commandment, and punishment in American culture. The left makes good work of it toward their own ends.

We’re now faced with the worst of both worlds: the fucktarded-woke frailty of the left playing out as the punitive ‘he’s a sinner’ primitivity of the right. Topped with a layer of fascism that prioritizes corporate interests, America is fucked.

It’s cold outside and inside—a stark analogous contrast to my acclimation to heat and humidity. This is an apt metaphor for Americans living in a dystopian decline, a population exhibiting mass Stockholm syndrome—self-deluded yet arrogant.

They’ve acclimated.

Now, for a few specifics directed at the membership…

I’ll tell you what, nicotine is damn tough to kick because it’s so enjoyable, especially in combination with morning caffeine. But I have a vape with me, so it takes the edge off. Still, it’s just not the same level of enjoyment for me. So there I was, up at 3:30 AM—yes, 0330 this morning—and I made a couple of coffees from my brother’s Nespresso machine, which is just fucking awesome. I had one of the first models, but they have come a long way. It just makes incredible coffee drinks. So I had a couple of those, and with my vape in hand, I’m thinking, “This will not do.”

By then, it’s a little after 4 in the morning. Everyone’s asleep, and I don’t want to disturb anyone. My brother’s homestead is situated up in a hilly area with a one-lane road leading to it. A lot of people around here leave their keys in the car. So I go out to see if there are any keys left in the car, and sure enough, my brother had left his keys.

I fire up the car, and then I’m like, “Damn, the windshield’s all frosted up.” So I have to sit there and wait for it to defrost. Then I sneak my way out, careful not to disturb anyone since the cars are all over the place. The worst thing I could do is hit something because the windows are partially obscured by frost. But, I make it out unscathed and head down the hill.

I drive around until I find a 24-hour convenience mart attached to a gas station. I go in and pay my 18 bucks for another pack of American Spirits. That brings me to $37 in just three days here. But it’s not just the cigarettes; on my drive back from the mart, the roads are icy from yesterday’s slush. It hadn’t really snowed; it had slushed, and that’s what’s coating the roads, now frozen solid.

And if that’s not enough, on my way back, there are three deer in the road, including one fawn. I have to slam on the brakes. It’s slippery, but good luck—or should I say, good fortune—that the car had antilock brakes, which were promptly put to use. Thankfully, no animals were harmed in the making of a story this blog post.

…I’ll have other things to talk about later. For now, here’s the remainder of the dinner photos.

Yes, I did indeed put butter on my baked potato.

So shoot me, Puritans.