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Rock-bottom prices

If you live in Wisconsin, you probably shop at Woodman's. It's a regional chain of huge grocery stores where it's half a mile from baked goods and frozen foods, and there's a block's walk of frozen pizza choices. They sell just about every brand of just about every product you need, and the prices are seriously low.

Seattle has nothing like Woodman's. In almost two months here, I still haven't found a supermarket that doesn't suck donkey pimples.

Twenty blocks in any direction from anywhere, you'll find yet another Safeway. They're everywhere, and all identical, with not much selection (just three brands of bathsoap?) and consistently high prices unless you sign up for a loyalty card, in which case the prices are still high. Also, the manager of a Safeway store treated me quite rudely in a dream, so I'm never going back there.

There's Albertson's, which was a reasonably priced regional chain when I grew up around here, but they're a giant conglomerate now. They own Safeway and a dozen other chains, all overpriced, with loyalty cards and minimal selection. They should offer a disloyalty card.

There's Grocery Outlet, which specializes in one-time purchases of overstocked or discontinued items, sold at sometimes ridiculously low prices. You can score unexpected good deals on an off brand of canned teriyaki, sure, but good luck finding what you came for, like just plain mustard or a can of cat food.

There's a huge, cheap store, kinda like Woodman's, called WinCo, but all their locations are in the hinterlands. Before I basically stopped driving, I went to their Kent location one afternoon, bought a few things and didn't feel price-gouged. Kent, though, is twenty miles from Seattle, and the WinCo seems to be another five miles from Kent — the store's neighbors are the woods. That's their location nearest to Seattle, but I ain't driving to the woods outside Kent for groceries every week.

So where do I buy mustard and cat food and other necessities? Usually I go to Saar's Super Saver, a Seattle-area chain, not because it's any good, but because it's soooo awful.

Saar's is dusty and run-down, and feels like a second-hand store that sells food. Everything is haphazard and sloppy, the layout makes little sense, and the Saar's I go to used to be an Albertson's — they haven't even painted over where the lettering on the wall used to spell Albertson's, although the Saar's Super Saver sign outside looks like it's been there for decades.

What's hilarious, though, is all their signs in the store, in the parking lot, on every shelf and above every aisle, boasting of "rock-bottom prices." Guess what? Saar's prices are sometimes a few pennies less than Safeway, but rarely low. They sell the most expensive jar of peanut butter I've ever seen — $10.99 for a big jar of the name brand, that would cost half that at Woodman's. And my inspiration for this entire entry is that Saar's is currently selling three-packs of ordinary dish sponges — 99¢ at Woodman's, $1.49 or maybe $1.99 at most stores — for $4.49, in a big display case, with signs claiming that's a "rock-bottom price."

For shoppers' amusement, the employees are usually talking or yelling at each other across the aisles, there's an in-store butcher hired straight from a horror movie, and while I'll confess buying their deli discount fried chicken ($4.49 for ten fresh-cooked drumsticks actually is a rock-bottom price) there's always something in the deli section that worries me.

And then Saar's has the stupidest checkout system I've ever seen. Each lethargic cashier handles two lines of customers at two separate cash registers, alternating between them, so when you think you're third in line you're actually sixth in line. Even when they're not busy, it's a guaranteed ten minute wait to be rung up.

I gotta buy groceries somewhere, and there's no good grocery store, so I shop at Saar's Super Saver because the place bewilders and entertains me every time.

Ah, but same as in San Francisco or any big city, the best prices on fruits and vegetables, and better fruits and vegetables, are at the bodegas. I've found one that I like, and that's where I buy everything except frozen food, mustard, cat food, and a few other assorted sundries the bodega doesn't carry.

Yeah, gotta tell you about that bodega. Some other morning.

5/19/2022  

itsdougholland.com
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The news on TV

Visiting with an old friend, we ended up watching a stupid newscast on TV. That's the only kind of newscast on TV, of course, and in watching for half an hour, the news was nowhere to be found.

This is not a rant about how shallow and stupid television is. I already wrote that rant. This is a (slightly) different rant, about how shallow and stupid the news on TV is.

TV news is only about what the Mayor said, what the Governor said, what the President said, and about traffic jams, house fires, murders, about disasters if there's good footage, with no mention of disasters if there's not, and now here's Chip with Sports, and Sandy with the weather. Mostly, TV news is about selling commercials.

You want to know the news? Read a decent newspaper (there still are a few). If you can't find time for a newspaper, or your local paper sucks, listen to Democracy Now, or there are other options, but cripes, don't watch TV news and imagine you're watching the news.

I've said this before, but it's been a few months so I'll say it again:

News is (or ought to be) the coverage of events that affect the lives of lots of people. News ought to be skeptical, ought to understand that what politicians say is usually bullshit, and that the rich and powerful are (almost?) invariably corrupt. News ought to be about digging for evidence to expose and punish the bullshit and corruption, but if that's news, then the news on TV was canceled a long time ago. Change the channel or click it off.

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And another thing: 

If you're watching or listening to a newscast that includes a daily stock report (you know, "The S&P 500 settled at 4,175.48, gaining 20.10 points or 0.48 percent, while the Nasdaq moved up 27.74 points or 0.22 percent to 12,563.76"), that's a newscast that's not intended for you. It's intended for, shall we say, the investor class, and everything on that 'news' show is slanted toward them, not you.

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And one last thing. 

What the hell is this?

"Some viewers may find the following imagery/video/story disturbing."

What does a warning like that mean, really, when it precedes a news report? It means the show's producers try very hard to make sure the news is never disturbing, but just this once, they're letting some actual news pass through.

Bubba, if it's not disturbing, then you're not watching the news. If you're following the news but don't want to be disturbed by the news, give up and watch a sit-com.

5/19/2022  

itsdougholland.com
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The toaster, the microwave, and the smoke alarm

#148
Wednesday,
May 18, 2022

You can walk around in a lovely little park a few blocks from my house, but you can't safely walk to the park. There's no sidewalk on that side of the street, and it's a busy street. There's no walkway into the park, either. You're supposed to drive to the park. If you're on foot, the only way to enter the park is to walk on the asphalt, where cars drive in, and then walk across the parking lot until you get to the grass.

It's car-brained community planning. The idiot who designed the park drives to work every day, drives everywhere, and it never occurred to that idiot, or to his idiot boss, or to any idiot in the whole process, that people might want to walk to the park.


Found but definitely not purchased at the hardware store: An LED Ice Scraper, with batteries included, for $6.99. Who the hell needs or wants an LED light inside an ice scraper?


As mentioned previously, the smoke alarm in our house is far too delicate, and goes off sometimes when people make toast. I've dialed the brownness down, and eat my toast a little less toasted than I'd prefer, because if the toast is browner the alarm goes off, it's loud like an auto wrecking yard, it takes 90 seconds to stop blaring, and it wakes not just my three flatmates but the four more flatmates who live downstairs. Also, it frightens the cat.

Dean, though, turns the toaster to a browner setting when he makes toast, which usually sets off the alarm. And here's the crazy part: He doesn't believe it.

He's right there when it happens, and Robert and I have told him that the toaster sets off the smoke alarm, but maybe Dean's hard of hearing or just hard of thinking — he insists that it's the microwave.

The toaster sits on top of the microwave, and in unenthusiastic defense of Dean, I'll say that he's not usually an imbecile, and the microwave's beeps are quite loud, and about the same pitch as the fire alarm. Seems fairly stupid, though, to suspect the microwave if the smoke alarm goes off while nobody's using the microwave.

And yet, every time the toaster sets off the smoke alarm, Dean responds by pushing random buttons on the microwave. "It must be a short in the wiring," he says. And this is a guy who spent 40 years working in restaurant kitchens?

I didn't come out, didn't want to have the same conversation with Dean again, so I didn't see this morning's episode, only heard it:

The smoke alarm went off, and between its blarings you could hear the beeps of Dean pushing buttons on the microwave. After about 90 seconds, the smoke alarm stopped, the button-pushing on the microwave stopped, and I heard Dean say to himself, "We gotta get this microwave fixed. I'm gonna call the landlord."

And now, the news you need, whether you know it or not…    

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Here's how Facebook killed news feed fixes over fear of conservative backlash 

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There are no "Holy Lands" 

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Some top 100,000 websites collect everything you type—before you hit submit 

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Engineering students create edible adhesive tape to keep your burrito wrapped tightly 

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Oklahoma gov tells Native American tribes to think twice before setting up abortion clinics on tribal land, they’ll be super sorry 

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Real Biden Wisconsin 2020 electors sue fake Trump electors 

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Supreme Court greenlights corruption 

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It's hard, I know, but please avoid having sex with monkeys 

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Icelandic architect proposes building cities with molten lava 

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One-word newscast, because it's the same news every time...
climateclimate
copscopscopscopscopscopscopscops
Republicans
Republicans 

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The End
Donald Baechler
Edward J Bronson
Susan Jacks

5/18/2022 
 
Cranky Old Fart is annoyed and complains and very occasionally offers a kindness, along with anything off the internet that's made me smile or snarl. All opinions fresh from my ass. Top illustration by Jeff Meyer. Click any image to enlarge. Comments & conversations invited.
 
Tip 'o the hat to All Hat No Cattle, Linden Arden, ye olde AVA, BoingBoing, Breakfast at Ralf's, Captain Hampockets, CaptCreate's Log, John the Basket, LiarTownUSA, Meme City, National Zero, Ran Prieur, Voenix Rising, and anyone else whose work I've stolen without saying thanks.
 
Extra special thanks to Becky Jo, Name Withheld, Dave S, Wynn Bruce, and always Stephanie...

"Out out out, please."

"Hey, put that crap away. No smoking fentanyl on the bus." The driver was a black man, with very sparse gray hair, and very little patience for drug abuse.

We were on a southbound A, and everything the driver said was through his microphone, broadcast on speakers all along the ceiling of the bus. Good speakers, too. You couldn't miss a syllable. And you couldn't shut it off.

"I mean it," he said like he meant it. "Please put that crap away."

The bus was half-full, and I was halfway back. If you're wondering, no, I hadn't been smoking fentanyl. Also hadn't seen anyone smoking anything between me and the front of the bus, so it must've been someone sitting somewhere behind me. It's a very long, bending bus, though, and I didn't care enough to crane my head toward the back. Turn around on the bus and your neck might hurt all day, especially at my age.

"No smoking anything on the bus," the driver explained into his microphone, "but especially no smoking fentanyl. That stuff just rots your mind."

He watching the rear-view mirror more than traffic. That mirror is huge, and gives the driver a view of the passengers, more than of anything behind the bus.

"Put it out," he said again, over the bus's speakers. "Put it out now, please, or get off the bus." We waited at a stop light, and everyone watched the driver watching everyone his oversized rear-view mirror.

"Please put it out," he said again, but he drove the bus another block. Still staring into his rear-view, he then announced, "That's it. Off the bus, Mr Fentanyl." At all times, this driver was polite. He never raised his voice. Didn't have to. The PA system made his voice unavoidable.

And he never left his seat. He pulled the bus to the curb, across an intersection from the next bus stop, leaving us directly in front of a public school. And then, still seated in the driver's chair, he pushed whatever button opens the doors, looked in the mirror again, and announced over the PA, "Out out out, please."

We waited, and the bus driver said again, "Out out out, please." He paused a few seconds and said it again. We waited perhaps two minutes in front of that school, kids watching from the sidewalk, as ten times the driver announced, "Out out out, please."

I never turned to see, but apparently whoever was smoking fentanyl was very leisurely gathering his possessions. Finally Mr Fentanyl stepped off the bus, at the front doors to Federal Way High School. He was a white man, maybe twenty or 25, scruffy and wearing no shirt and flipping the driver the bird. I would've liked a picture of that, with the kids laughing behind him, but I didn't have my phone.

Whoosh, the bus doors closed, and we rolled away.

Through the power of scolding, a microphone, and his rear-view mirror, that driver had saved fifty passengers from the scourge of drugs, all without leaving his seat.

He wasn't finished with his monologue into the microphone, though. As the bus rolled on in heavy traffic, he informed all the passengers again, "That stuff just rots your mind," and, "Why anyone would smoke fentanyl is beyond me."

After a moment of relative silence: "You know, this is my third run, and he's the second passenger I've ejected for fentanyl, just today, and it's not even 8:00 in the morning. There were two yesterday, too..."

At another light, he said nothing, but when the light turned green he began again. "It's just evil stuff. It ought to be illegal," he announced to everyone on the bus.

"It is illegal," someone behind me shouted, and in the rear-view I saw the driver chuckle.

"Not illegal enough," he replied over the PA system. "You only have one brain, one life, why would anyone waste it away with that crap?"

The driver continued his anti-drugs and specifically anti-fentanyl remarks for several minutes, and eventually some passengers began giggling. A few seats in front of me, at half-volume like she was talking to a friend or perhaps to herself, an old white lady said, "No, this is not normal bus driver behavior."

Someone behind me said, "Maybe he's on fentanyl," and I joined the smattering of laughter that followed. For the last few blocks of my ride the driver allowed longer and longer moments of silence, which were appreciated by all. Then I got off at HMart to stock up on cheap vegetables and weird packaged Korean foodstuffs.

Some people are afraid of taking the bus, so I should mention that the ride back was uneventful. Most rides on transit are just rides, but I don't write about the ordinary bus trips — all the times everyone simply looks out the window, and the bus takes us where we're going, and nothing happens on the way.

5/18/2022  

itsdougholland.com
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Nakano Spy School, and six more movies

Lots of good stuff here, and a couple of stinkers, but the one you really don't want to miss is Nakano Spy School.

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The Chase (1946) 

The Neverending
Film Festival
#41

A good Samaritan (Robert Cummings) goes out of his way to return the wallet lost by a brutal and cruel crime lord. Amused by the man's honesty, the baddie offers him a job as his chauffeur. It's based on The Black Path of Fear by Cornell Woolrich, and I've never read it, but the author's name is usually attached to better material than this.

The problem is that the movie is focused way too much on the good guy, and he's boring as a glass of warm milk. Even as he's succumbing to temptation (Michele Morgan), there's nothing going on inside his head. Meanwhile, there's a frightful but fabulous bad guy (Steve Cochran) and Peter frickin' Lorre as his henchman, but they're both gone from the entire middle third of the movie. Probably they came back before the end, but I was asleep by then. Warm milk has that effect on me.

Verdict: NO.

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Fallguy (1962)

"This time, make sure they're all dead before you leave."

I've been watching a lot of 1940s and '50s noir lately, but soon as this movie opened you could tell we'd moved into the 1960s. The women have a couple inches more cleavage, the teenyboppers are dancing to primitive rock'n'roll, and even the clock on the wall says things have changed.

There's been a botched gangland killing, and the man who was supposed to be dead instead walks away, bloodied and looking for vengeance. The doctor he runs to is mob-connected, and kills him, so now the bad guys need to find an innocent man they can frame for the crime, or maybe an innocent teenager with a hot rod.

Yeah, this one has it all — crooked cops, a catfight between PG-rated hookers, xylophone jazz, a big bald psychotic killer, an electric razor you start with a pull-chain, and a bittersweet ending that made me say "Wow."

Verdict: YES.

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Genesis II (1973)

After the original Star Trek was canceled, its creator, Gene Roddenberry, spent several years trying to get other sci-fi shows off the ground. He made four pilots that didn't sell, and a fifth that morphed into Star Trek: The Motion Picture. This is one of the unsold pilots, and it sucks.

No, it's not a sequel. The title is never explained. My guess is that it refers to Earthers starting over again, but when it's actually time to start over again, cripes, even Republicans could do better than this.

It's about some 1970s scientist who accidentally gets hibernated, and roused from his sleep 154 years later. Things have changed. We finally nuked the planet while he was snoring, and also unexplained space invaders took over, and enslaved the surviving humans.

The story is stupid, the leading man seems like molded plastic with a mustache, the whole thing looks cheap even for its era, and all through it nobody says anything remotely clever or lifelike. If you woke up tomorrow and it was 154 years from now, wouldn't you have some questions or comments or some human response, especially if everyone you met was as robotic as this cast?

Mariette Hartley is a featured player, and I always liked her way back when, because hubba hubba. Given such cardboard dialogue, though, even wearing a Star Trek-style skimpy outfit, she's as dull as everyone else in this mess.

I've long heard rumors that Roddenberry wasn't really the driving force behind Star Trek. He's credited as writer and producer for this, which makes those rumors seem plausible.

Verdict: BIG NO.

♦ ♦ ♦

Nakano Spy School (1966)
a/k/a School of Spies

This is a drama of espionage, but not like you've seen in other spy movies. Japan has just emerged as a world power, it's at war with China, and World War II looms in the near future. One low-ranking officer in the Japanese military believes that his nation's spies are not as well-trained as the world's other spies, and with unofficial backing he's established Japan's first training program for cloak-and-dagger.

"My destiny changed forever upon meeting this strange lieutenant colonel from the Army General Staff."

Most of the film is about training the first recruits for Japan's spy program, with almost zen-like class sessions, working the students into a frenzy of loyalty, to their country, to the school, and to their professor.

"You will abandon your real names and adopt aliases immediately. You must break all contact with the outside world."

They're taught suave dancing and foreign languages, women's erogenous zones, and techniques of subterfuge and deception. To teach assassinations, a chemist lectures the class on how arsenic, mercury chloride, strychnine, and cyanide work. To teach safe-cracking, they bring a criminal on day-leave from prison. To teach torture techniques, of course, they call on the Chief of Police.

Before their training is completed, three of these recruits are given their first assignment, to somehow steal a codebook from the British embassy. Meanwhile, having not heard from him for months because of the enforced seclusion, one rookie spy's fiancée is determined to find out where he is.

"Real espionage does not require knowledge or technical acumen, but the courage, reflexes, and ingenuity to overcome each and every obstacle!"

The truth or provenance of the story is unknown to me — maybe it's fiction, or maybe it's genuine Japanese history, but either way it's a grabber. The sweep and strength of this film is undeniable, the widescreen black-and-white photography is stunning, and the English subtitles are impeccable, at least in the version I saw, .

I don't think it was the moviemakers' intent, but in addition to the riveting story on the surface, it's also terrifying to see the power of patriotism and indoctrination, and how little a government values the lives of its people.

Verdict: BIG YES. Hell of a flick, and well worth watching.

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Parallels (2015)

Dad's gone missing, but before vanishing he left odd cryptic phone messages for both of his kids. In the trunk of his car they find a high-tech device that looks suspiciously like a croquet ball, wrapped in an old newspaper with a headline that never happened. Well, that's peculiar.

Dad's message mentioned a building downtown, so our three main characters — brother, sister, and annoying neighbor — decide to drive downtown and see what's at that address. And they shouldn't have done that. When they find the building, they enter it, and soon it's revealed that the building is a portal to parallel worlds. Whether there's a way back is uncertain, but in one of several other Earths they meet a gorgeous dame who knows the rules of traveling between the myriad random Earths she's been to.

I made the mistake of watching this in the evening, because it sounded like shit and I'd never heard of it, so I assumed it would be low-rent sci-fi and lull me to sleep. And I shouldn't have done that. Now the movie's over, it's almost midnight, and I'm wide awake. It moves along so fast that you might not notice the plot holes, but it ends with a twist I didn't understand, and the main mystery isn't solved.

Instead, our central characters seem poised to have further adventures on more and more parallel Earths, and then the credits roll, including "teleplay by Christopher Leone."

Nothing against Mr Leone (never heard of him) but — teleplay? Aw, crap. It was pretty good for a TV movie, but Googling confirms my suspicions: Parallels was the pilot for a TV series that was never made, so it intentionally leaves its mysteries unsolved.

Verdict: Still, MAYBE, damn it.

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Phantom Lady (1944)

A dapper gent (Franchot Tone) picks up a dour doll (Fay Helm) in a seedy bar, and she'll only go out with him if they don't reveal their names to each other. He says sure, and takes this anonymous dame to an old-style nightclub, and then she walks away into the night.

During their no-name date, though, dapper gent's wife is murdered, and of course he's the prime suspect. The anonymous woman would be his alibi and save his neck — gosh, if only he knew who she was.

Dapper is really no good at names; he calls his secretary 'Kansas' (Ella Raines) because she's from Wichita. Of course, Kansas is in love with him and knows he couldn't be a killer, so she starts investigating the case in her spare time.

All of this seems ever-so-slightly improbable, but wait, there's more — a cop who cares about evidence? Elisha Cook Jr as a frenzied drummer in a jazz band? What's most unbelievable, though, is that this flick is always watchable, bizarre but never boring. Directed by Richard Siodmak, of course. Dude could film my life and somehow make it interesting.

Verdict: YES.

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The World Gone Mad (1933)

Early talkies have tinny sound, and this one — at least this copy — also has an annoying crackle through most of the soundtrack, so it's hard to tell whether The World Gone Mad is good or merely unusual.

Without the sound issues it might be a crackling crime drama. It's pre-code, so some of the dialogue is more frank than you'd expect, and there's a long scene where two stoned characters smoke marijuana. Even more startling, there's a scene with a big-shot executive on the phone switching suppliers, not because one manufacturer beat a competitor's prices, but because the product is of superior quality.

What's most unusual is that the criminals we're going after are in the executive suite at a major corporation. And it's the local District Attorney who's going after them, which is something that never happens in real life, does it? In the so-rare-it's-basically-never case where there's prosecution of corporate execs, it's always the feds, never your local law enforcement, pressing charges.

Verdict: YES, especially if you can find a copy with a clean soundtrack.

— — —

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5/17/2022 
 
Top illustration by Jeff Meyer. No talking once the lights dim. Real butter, not that fake crap, on the popcorn. Piracy is not a victimless crime. Click any image to enlarge. Comments & conversations invited.