Greetings from the food court at Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport, where my breakfast burrito has barbecue sauce in it for some reason! I’m midway to our nation’s capital, where I will inflict humiliation on my brother for turning 30 before passing out without considering my own advanced age for even a second.*
Between that crucial endeavor and Micky’s wedding the following weekend, Combat! blog will probably be extremely half-assed for the rest of the month. Fortunately, American culture continues to write itself. Props to Ben al-Fowlkes for the news that Paul Ryan, the man who wants to privatize Social Security and Medicare, paid for college with the Social Security benefits he received after his father’s death. The grandmother he credits with raising him got ’em, too. Of course, Ryan was not yet a rising conservative star who recognized that the nation’s budget crisis was so dire as to require the dismantling of 60 years of public safety nets back then. He was also not yet a college graduate with a dependable stream of income. I will leave it to your discernment whether this news shows that Ryan is an incredibly principled idealist who considers what’s good for the country independently of his own personal experience or if, now that he’s on board, he thinks we should pull up the lifelines so the boat can go faster. I suppose it could be both.
Author: Dan Brooks
Norberto King, American
The image above comes from A. Ron Galbraith’s Facebook feed, through which he gave it to the world with the caption “let’s get real here, autocorrect.” The autocorrect function on the iPhone and similar touchscreen devices works by trying different permutations of the letters nearest the letters you hit. You can map “Norberto king” to its deliberately-struck neighbors nicely, right up until you get to the O. At that point, autocorrect moves from likely mistakes to wishful thinking. For Apple, a company that has built its reputation on cannily assessing how people use their consumer electronics, to assume that Aaron probably wanted to say “Norberto king” rather than the common intensifier he typed perfectly seems, well, naive. Consider their alternative, though, which is to add “motherfucking” to their autocorrect dictionary. While thousands of Americans like myself would find it easier to send text messages about our dentists and burritos, a small number would be upset. Somewhere in Kansas, a woman mourning the death of her beloved friend Norberto would text a fellow church deacon to ask if he was going to the motherfucking funeral, and that would be it. Our phone autocorrects’ willful insistence that we meant to type “what the duck” is a manifestation of the same phenomenon that makes it okay to shoot fifty people in a PG-13 movie, but not okay to show a boob or a cigarette. Most of us have no problem with boobs or smoking, but the few who do are extremely vocal. Thus does the public tolerance of a society move to the level of its least tolerant members. That’s a curious nuisance for most people, and a life-determining problem if you’re, say, a gay dude who wants to get Norberto King married.
“Atlas Shrugged” is awful/amazing depending on whether you are a jerk
httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6W07bFa4TzM
The first exchange of dialogue in the trailer for Atlas Shrugged pretty much captures the problem with Ayn Rand. When the answer to “Who’s asking?” is “someone who knows what it’s like to work for himself and not let others feed off the profits of his energy,” we know that we are in for a particular sort of artistic production. Ayn Rand was an ideological writer with powerful theories about human beings, a species she knew primarily from rumor. The problem of making any of her epic novels of ideas into a movie—Atlas Shrugged is too long, The Fountainhead is too rapey, the other ones are too no one knows what they are—has been an acknowledged fact of Hollywood for decades. Producer John Aglialoro made Atlas Shrugged: The Movie on a tight budget and even tighter schedule, in part because he needed to start shooting before his long-held option expired. The, uh, limited resources available for production show through in the final product, which is currently running at 8% positive reviews on Rotten Tomatoes. And yet the audience rating runs a robust 85%. That discrepancy becomes simultaneously more and less odd when you consider that the film is only playing in a few cities, and that the majority of those audience reviewers have therefore not seen it yet.
Internet has its way with Jon Kyl
If you are a regular viewer of The Daily Show or The Colbert Report, which at this stage of American discourse are types of news, you probably already heard about Jon Kyl’s claims regarding Planned Parenthood. During debate on the Senate floor, Kyl said that abortion is “well over 90% of what Planned Parenthood does.” That number turns out to be off by a mere 2900%; abortion is actually about 3% of what Planned Parenthood does, which puts them well below such organizations as Courtney Love.*
Shortly afterward, a spokesman from Kyl’s office told CNN that the Senator’s remark was “not intended to be a factual statement.” See, Jon Kyl wasn’t lying: he was merely making a statement that he did not consider accurate but his listeners did, as part of a persuasive argument he conducted in his capacity as a United States legislator. The absurdity of this defense has not escaped the internet, and Senator Kyl has consequently achieved the highest grade of infamy possible in contemporary western culture. He has become a meme.
Friday links! You paid for it edition

Presidential candidate Donald Trump demands "the biggest (fudging) pizza you've ever (gol darn) seen, right in my (mouth.)"
I did my taxes yesterday, which went about as smoothly as a freelancer with multiple sources of income and virtually no records could reasonably expect. Between the self-employment tax and my ongoing, catastrophic failure to be married or own a home, I wound up giving back just over 36% of my adjusted gross income. For over a third of my working life in 2010, I worked for Uncle Sam.*
And what did I get for my money? With no children in public school, no realistic hope of enjoying Social Security or Medicare, and little material interest in our decade-long project to educate/explode everyone in Afghanistan, I enjoyed few direct benefits. But it must be noted that the broader American system profited me indirectly. My dividend came in the form of civil liberties, the rule of law, Ke$ha, and all the other wonders our functioning governments make possible. Today is tax day, and it seems as good a moment as any to take a look at the America we bought with our hard-earned dollars. By “we,” I mean “those of us who make too much money to get free food stamps or medical care, but not enough money to induce Congress to give us a tax cut.” We’re the middle class, everyone loves us and is therefore free to treat us badly, and this is the Friday we paid for.



