theapacheviking210

[theapacheviking210]

On tomorrow's #video, I will share my #essay where I share my #thoughts about the current state of our #society, as well as what we need to do as a #species to reach a more #compassionate and #mature #future for #mankind. Don't forget to #like, #share and #subscribe. You can #supportme on #CashApp, #PayPal and #Venmo at #rockinrobsa210 or join my #Patreon at #210x2Productions. The full video will air June 25th, 2025 at 3:30pm CST. #ThanksForWatching. #SeeYouNextTime.

[theapacheviking210]

Exponential Growth 2: The Resource Boogaloo

You know what’s great about being the douchebag? I’m usually right about things. You know what sucks about it? I’m usually right about things that are bad. Case in point, in my previous video, I talked about the report from MIT scientists that was eventually turned into a book entitled Limits to Growth, by Dr. Donella H. Meadows. Now in my last video, I mentioned that the predictions that were made in the original report from 1972 were being overly generous. Remember that? Remember how I said that it was probably going to be a lot worse than that?? Yeah, that’s why I hate being right about things. And a lot like the expected outcomes for most of my current dating prospects, it’s most likely not going to be good. 

Case in point, the original Limits to Growth report was updated in 2023, and a lot like scientists in the movie that try to warn us of an impending catastrophe and go completely ignored, the scientific community slapped us with one big fat “I fucking told you so.” Imagine a night at the neighborhood cantina and after too many shots of tequila, you get into your car so you can go play a game of chicken parallel to a fast moving train on its tracks. You manage to weave in front of it a couple of times, with a few thrilling but dangerously close calls. However, by the third attempt, that’s when you underestimate and the train plows right into your vehicle, slicing your car in half and killing everyone inside! So basically in this scenario, the human race is the drunk driver playing chicken with the train of our own consequences. 

So it turns out that in the 1972 report, it was expected that we would overshoot our ability to carry our population's capacity by the mid to late 21st century. But in the revised 2023 report, it seems like we have overshot our capacity already. So like a restaurant that’s over crowded, with a bunch of hungry and angry customers demanding more drinks and food. Except there aren't even plates or silverware now, never mind drinks or food to eat. Well now the restaurant has over 8.1 billion of us and the owner is ready to collect on the tab. We’ve overrun our credit limit and it’s not going to be a lot of fun when the bill collector comes to take it out on all of our collective kneecaps. We fucked up folks. Yep, we sure did.

One of the most glaring pieces of information in this revised 2023 report is our hopeless addiction to fossil fuels. We knew for a long time now that it wasn’t sustainable. But like the kid that didn’t study for the test, the day of the final exam is here and we didn’t fucking study at all. And a lot like parents who neglect their children by sticking a tablet in their face so that they can watch Skibidi toilet, brain rot content, we collectively said to ourselves "well we tried not changing anything, but that didn’t work.” And once again, the scientific community collectively shook their heads and said, “nice going, you dumb bastards.”

But in words of the late TV infomercial salesman Billy Maze when he read about the deaths of Michael Jackson and Farrah Faucet, “but wait, there’s more!” There is hope in this report as well. It’s only a flicker, but hope nonetheless. We can still switch to renewable energy technologies. However, the updated 2023 report also says that we need to stop suckling at the golden tit of perpetual economic growth. We’re like a reality star of My 600-lb Life on a diet of lard straight out of the bucket and chugging pure high fructose corn syrup, then complaining why our diabetes insulin isn’t fixing the problem and our knees are literally buckling under our gargantuan weight. I guess we just don’t learn, do we folks?? 

The 2023 updated report doesn’t hesitate to throw some pretty hard punches right into our collective kidneys. We’ve been collectively in a state of both denial and procrastination. It’s like we, collectively as a species, broke into the zoo late at night, snuck into the bear exhibit, jammed our fingers right into a sleeping grizzly bear's butthole, only to act surprised that we’re about to get brutally mauled. The report is practically begging us as a species on bended knees to get our shit straight. To urge us to embrace sustainability and actually start acting like intelligent human fucking beings. I know it’s asking a lot, folks. But let’s consider the consequences if we don’t. 

But douchebag, you dialectic describer of despair inducing, impending doom, you now say. What is the takeaway from this report? What can we do about all this? Is it still possible to repair the damage we have done or is it already too late? Well my fellow foolish, fossil fuel, fart sniffer friends, the takeaway is a punch in the stomach, a kick in the teeth, and a wakeup call that needs to be taken seriously and fast. To say that we need to fix this would be a moot point. We needed to fix it almost fifty years ago, and time is running out. 

The 2023 updated report to our finite resources and exponential growth is a very, very fucking grim reminder that we need to grow up and we needed to do it quite a while ago. Mother nature is holding up a mirror, and we’re not liking what we are seeing. Instead of a human face, there is a snarling, insatiable ghoul that wants nothing but to selfishly feast upon fossil fuels and it’s the reason that almost everything out there is getting more and more expensive by the day. It’s the reason that jobs pay less, and basic needs cost more. It’s the reason it’s getting hotter. The reason we're getting sick more often. The reason we’re dying younger. The time to act is not only now, but has been the case for quite a goddamned while now. Because if we don’t… we’re not going to make it.

[theapacheviking210]

Finite Resources and The Exponential Growth Problem

So some time in the 1970s, a group of scientists from MIT got together and asked themselves a couple of very important questions, “say guys, what is going to happen if we keep fucking like rabbits while we also continue to treat our finite resources like a junkie trying to score a fix?” Well despite my normally sunny disposition, I think it’d be safe to say that a lot like a dog that chases cars and finally catches one, the situation doesn’t end well for the fucking dog. But in this hypothetical situation, our finite resources are the car and humanity is the dog.

So these D&D nerds used computer models to predict what would happen if we kept up our current lifestyle. The variables in question were five key things: population, industrialization, pollution, food production, and resource depletion. Basically, all the shit were not paying attention to because we’re far too distracted by trivialities like who Taylor Swift is fucking. And a lot like my chances of getting Schwifty with Miss Swifty, the outlook wasn’t exactly good.

In most scenarios, the prediction models estimated we would run out of resources by at best the late 21st century, but that was being overly generous. Their more reasonable predictions estimated we would be running dangerously low by the early to mid 2030s. And a lot like when you feel your ballsack nearing the bandsaw, that unwelcome breeze from the forthcoming spinning blade by one's nether regions is more than enough to fill anyone with a sense of overwhelming dread. So think of Mad Max, but more starvation and less action sequences and cool cars.

To understand why these predictions are almost as grim as my recent credit report, you have to understand exponential growth. Have you ever heard the Persian tale of the king who paid for a chessboard with grains of rice? The deal was to pay one grain for the first square, two for the second, four for the third, and so on. Doesn't sound like much, does it? That is until it turns from a tiny snowball to a fucking avalanche. When he got to the 15th square, the king owed him 32,768 grains of rice. By the 20th square he owed the man 1,048,576 grains of rice. The 25th square, 33,554,432 grains of rice.

By the time they finally got to the 64th fucking square, the king owed more rice than existed in the entire kingdom. Which is this number shown here. (Show on the screen). 2(⁶⁴)= 18,446,744,073,709,551,616. That is eighteen quintillion, four hundred and forty six quadrillion, seven hundred and forty four trillion, seventy three billion, seven hundred and nine million, five hundred and fifty one thousand, six hundred and sixteen god damn grains of mother fucking rice!! That’s exponential growth for you – it starts slow, but then it goes off the rails faster than me after too many shots of tequila at the neighborhood cantina. Let the unwelcome and drunken ass grabbing begin!

One of these scenarios these MIT scientists ran showed that if we continue to treat things as business as usual, it would be a lot like a drunk driver distracted by his cell phone. Basically we’re careening for a head on collision with the wall that is our own consequences. Population overshoot, resource depletion, and pollution are creeping up on us worse than an ex-significant other who keeps ignoring restraining orders and shitting in your mailbox. Which reminds me, I need to renew that restraining order against Helga, The Hungarian Hooker who I paid to slam my junk in the toilet seat. Don't stick your dick in crazy guys, fun as it may be. From one who knows.

Now don't get me wrong. I’m not a total doomer type. The scientists suggested that if we had made serious changes, we could still possibly stabilize things. Like switching to renewable energy, cutting down on unnecessary waste and not treating our planet both like a pantry and a fucking toilet. Spoiler alert, we did absolutely none of that shit. But hey, we want our iPhone 53 that tickles our taints with a feather and distracts our insufferable curtain clutchers with Skibidi toilet, brain rot content. We want it. We want it right now, and we don’t care if we destroy the entire fucking planet in order to get it!!

But douchebag, you gallant, giftful gabber of the last gasps of a global goonery gone wrong, you now say. How did people in the 70s react to this information? Wasn't this the wake up call we all needed? Why didn't they take these dire warnings more seriously? Well my dearest viewers and gullible gobblers of finite foolishness, the general reaction was, ‘meh… no big deal. It comes out of the ground, and nothing that comes out of the ground ever runs out. Get a job, you lazy, pot smoking, tree hugging hippies!’

So like the natives of Easter island on a global scale, we will continue to reproduce exponentially and consume resources until all of them run out completely. We never want to apply the breaks until we’re already seconds away from plummeting off the cliff. We lack the ability to see long term results due to our innate inability to comprehend exponential growth. We are only able to see no more than just an inch or so past our own smug and stupid faces. I will now close with an old Cree Nation proverb, “Only when the last tree has been cut down, the last fish been caught, and the last stream poisoned, will we finally realize… we cannot eat money.”

[theapacheviking210]

Blind Leading The Blind

So there's an old expression that we are all too familiar with. One that comes from the bible. In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is King. Now I'm the last person on Earth that wants to toot his own horn, despite how I refer to myself as the douchebag in jest. I do consider myself to be above average intelligence, but I am far from anyone you could describe to be a genius. Don't take my word for it, ask anyone of my exes.

Speaking of which, many of my friends and exes have expressed a common sentiment, telling me they think I'm a smart person. I've always struggled with such a sentiment. The reason for that is not necessarily because I don't think that I'm smart, rather the lack of willingness for not so smart people to be willing to listen to what I have to say.

Some of them have even referenced that direct quote about how in the land of the blind the one-eyed man is King. But another expression goes, heavy is the head that wears the crown. Far be it from me to consider myself a genius or a king, but that latter expression does have some truth to it.

The issue I take with the former of the two quotes is its implication that the one-eyed man will be greeted with open arms. That his unique insights will shed light in a world of darkness. This couldn't be further from the truth. While the one-eyed man has both vision and clarity, he is certainly not treated like his sight is a virtue. Rather, it is greeted with hostility and contempt.

The one-eyed man is not considered an asset, but rather a detriment. A threat to the comfort that the blind and befuddled masses cling to so comfortably. The insight the one-eyed man offers exposes the flaws in the perceptions of the blind and huddled masses.

To remain blind for many is a great comfort. There's far too many people who take solace in the idea of remaining in the dark. Now while the one-eyed man can see what they cannot, they do not like what he can see. It forces the blind to confront their own ignorance. It forces them to acknowledge the possibility that they are wrong and puts those false notions in the light. It dismays me and disappoints me how many people in the world are more comfortable fumbling around in the dark.

The time and age we find ourselves in does not like having its dynamics challenged. A great many people do not trust scientists, journalists, educators or whistleblowers. They are often met with hostility. The kind one would expect from a person who has been confronted with physical violence. In some extreme cases, arguably some more than others, literal violence can be the response to their discomfort.

Facts are regarded as opinions, and personal dogmas are regarded as sanctimonious and beyond reproach. Evidence is dismissed outright and conspiratorial narratives are embraced with zero sense of self scrutiny. Those who dare to challenge such narratives are preemptively character assassinated. The huddled and befuddled masses do not see blindness as a detriment, but rather a virtue.

Insisting that the one-eyed man is blind and that they can see with clarity. True, it may be easier to curse the dark than it is to light a candle. But let me ask you this, what good is the candle if people consider the darkness to be light? So the question becomes, is the one-eyed man in the Kingdom of the blind truly King? Or is the blind leading the blind?

Another expression I heard is that it is common for people to fear what they do not understand. To face uncomfortable truths requires confronting limitations. To admit to personal flaws and failures alike. It is a painful process and humbling too. But we also live in a culture that has an almost molecular aversion to any kind of pain or discomfort.

Even in circumstances where confronting the pain would result in personal growth. So the blind continue to lead the blind. Growing in numbers exponentially. Marching confidently and steadily in their almost compulsive desire to avoid pain and discomfort. Like lemmings towards a cliff.

Unfortunately, because I would rather confront difficult truths, in comparison to embracing comforting lies, it often leaves me feeling really lonely. Even in rooms full of people. People that at one point I would have described as friends, but nowadays many of those friendships ring quite hollow to me. Day after day, year after year, as I desired to grow and accumulate knowledge, many of these people I once knew only sought to bury themselves in ignorance.

They did not want their narratives challenged. I eventually found myself feeling like I was despised for speaking out against their presuppositions. Eventually, any form of disagreement was inevitably interpreted as a personal attack. So I had to stop associating with most of those people, as it made me feel quite lonely. Despite being in rooms full of people I once thought were my friends.

The story of the one-eyed man is a brilliant metaphor of a fundamental aspect of human nature. People are often quite cynical towards disagreement. They are resistant to change and will attack anyone who challenges the emotional narratives they cling to so dearly. They are resistant to information that tells them that they are wrong.

But you don't have to take my word for it, ask any recovering addict. I wish to use my insight to provide clarity in a world of darkness, but that assumes people want to acknowledge that they're just sitting in the dark. However it must be a foregone conclusion that the darkness is comforting. As Frank Zappa one said, if ignorance is bliss, why are so many people unhappy?

I once considered myself to be quite altruistic. Now, I find myself rather pragmatic and even cynical. And as George Carlin once said, or as I like to refer to him, Saint George the bullshit slayer, “if you scratch a cynic, you will find a disappointed idealist.”

I openly admit to the fact that my youthful optimism is all but extinguished as I have entered middle age. As much as I wish I could continue to be idealistic, I have to confront reality. No matter how uncomfortable that reality might be. I admit openly that although I am no longer optimistic, I have not given up hope entirely.

The starkist reality that I have to confront currently is the fact that most people don't want to hear what I have to say if it makes them feel uncomfortable. Most people do not want their preconceived notions challenged in any way whatsoever. They're looking for a person who is not a true friend, but is rather the average Joe's equivalent of a Yes Man.

This is something I'm not willing to do and it's something they're not willing to tolerate. It's better to be alone than surrounded by people that make you feel lonely. So as I find myself at an impasse, the best thing I can do is walk away. The blind are leading the blind, and petty disagreement justifies an eye for an eye. They say in the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is King. But what good is it to be the one-eyed man, if the blind wants his head on a pike?

[theapacheviking210]

The Adolescence of Humanity

In the grand scheme of things, our adolescence is a defining period of the remainder of our lives for each of us. All human beings go through such a transition. It’s a tumultuous time in which our innocence is shattered and the cruelty and indifferent nature of the world seems to weigh most heavily upon us. The meaninglessness of life and the lack of perception of fairness in a cold and unfair world is often something that can be at the very least daunting, if not overwhelming. This grim epiphany is often something that solidifies how we feel about the world at large, as well as how we will approach the trajectory of the remainder of our lives.

The way people decide to cope with the hammer revelation of the utter meaninglessness and indifference of the universe can be both unsettling and even terrifying. Like being afloat in deep space without so much as a tether to the mothership. As many of us have to learn during this time, life is not a simple series of checkmarks, but rather a path that is fraught with both uncertainty and peril. The warm and comfortable embrace of childhood is gone and the cold, harsh truth of objective reality hits us like a bucket of chilly ice water to the face. The universe is both uncaring and indifferent. Our suffering is meaningless and our pain eventually amounts to nothing. Once we die, we are gone and the world goes on without us. The Earth will spin with no deference to our troubles or our concerns. We are shuffling off this mortal coil with each passing breath and that prospect is terrifying.

This revelation often can shape a person's choices in life. Some turn to the comfort of religion, finding solace in the narrative of an immaculate, divine creator who loves and cares for them. Some eternal fatherly figure who has a plan for them in life, and also, after their inevitable death. Others will turn to family or civic duty. Some find it in the creation of art or at least the indulgence of it. Some also find themselves unable to cope, and spiral closer and closer to the void that is their inevitable demise. They might drown their sorrows out in substances, either prescription, or illicit. The old saying from Friedrich Nietzsche is true, that if you stare too long into the void, eventually… the void will stare back.

I think it’s safe to say that in the past few years, or at the most, the last decade or so, the collective mood within society is borderlining on what one might be inclined to describe as complete volatility. The tensions amongst most people are nearing a boiling point and emotions are running extremely high. This collective sense of hopelessness and existential dread was once confided to the barely legible scribblings of teenage journal entries, but now seems to either spew from the mouths of corrupt proletariat politicians, the sewer that is the social media landscape, and even erupting into the mass pandemonium we’re on the news. We’re seeing more and more images like these in cities across the nation and even around the world. Images of riots in the streets, cars being flipped, buildings set ablaze and utter bedlam exploding across our screens.

A lot like a teenager who lashes out in angsty anger at the perceived unfairness of the world, we as a species now have to collectively figure out how we are going to deal with the brutality of living in a world where the comfortable lies of old are clearly not working anymore. We can no longer find meaning in our political structures that are metasticed with corruption. Nor are we statiated by the lie of the family unit, cultural norms, or the ideas of nationalism or zenophobic rhetoric. We might still stodgily cling to these ideals, but we know deep down it’s all just more bullshit we tell ourselves. The comforting lie of the social contract is shattered day after day when we see more and more examples of corrupt political demagogues and ultra wealthy business criminals get away with murder without so much as a slap on the wrist, while the underlings forced to do their bidding face a twenty year prison sentence for stealing from the local Mal-Wart just to make sure their children have something to eat.

As I mentioned before, many during these teenage years of existential dread will turn to the comfort of religion. Many of which with strong words of condemnation spilling from their tongues. Words they typically love to apply to everybody else, but never to themselves. It often gives people a rigid, divine purpose in their lives and will study with great detail the scriptures of their faith. Yet, much like a belief in Santa Claus, the tooth fairy or any other series of lies told to us in childhood to keep us in line, it’s just that. A lie. After all, you can spell the word belief without using the word lie. More and more, people are beginning to figure out just that. Even those who may profess a belief in such stories and scripture based narratives, they often will admit privately that they greatly struggle with their ability to believe that any of it is actually true. Which isn’t too hard for any honest thinking person to see why.

So as our species enters a period of collective adolescence, we are forced to come to terms with the very real and brutal truth that these bronze age era lies are merely superstitious remnants leftover from the times of humanities childhood. Much like when people held beliefs that the Earth was flat, diseases were caused by Miasma (contaminated air), or that black magic could bestow soothsayers with evil cosmic powers, religion too is falling to the wayside. There is no celestial puppeteer pulling the strings of the universe, no divine daddy to come and fix it all, or all-seeing all-father to greet us in an afterlife that more than likely doesn’t even exist. And that prospect… is terrifying.

Religion was famously once described by Karl Marx as the opium of the people. It can be enchanting and intoxicating. Some may argue against what the harm is. That it makes people feel good and get through the day. But guess what? So do opiates like heroin. So does that mean we should let people use that too, just to get through the day? Or perhaps it is finally time to cut the bullshit and rip the collective band-aid called God off of a society that has been intoxicated by this lie that has diluted us for far too long. True, the comedown and withdrawal will be difficult, but the dangers of an overdose for all of us is a path too fraught with peril. And most likely, our extinction. The threat of eternal damnation or promise of divine rewards has always been excused as a way to keep people in line. But look at the results of that. It clearly isn’t working. As a matter of fact, it’s doing the exact opposite. It’s making people behave like they're too intoxicated to see the world for what it is. And that is a lot more destructive than the average apologist is honest enough to admit.

We are in an age that I have described as the adolescence of humanity. And much like adolescence, there are clearly some growing pains. We have to figure out an effective way to deal with such pains. It’s not going to be easy, rather, it’s going to be very hard. It’s a difficult time where we will have to make the choices to be grown up enough to shed comfortable lies, deceiving delusions and step into the the role of a more compassionate, even tempered and patient adulthood for mankind. Unfortunately, the alternative is not a good one. Going back into the childish ways of old is not the answer. It’s a hard choice, but a choice that we have to face nonetheless. Either a forward momentum of compassion and maturity, or the regressive ennui of childish comforts of the past. This prospect is terrifying, and we don’t quite know how to deal with that yet. But the time of our adolescence is nearing an end, and the consequences of our collective immaturity are weighing heavily upon us. The weight of our inactions are too heavy to bear for much longer, and a choice has to be made… right now.

[theapacheviking210]

An Ode to Optimism (A Rant in C flat)

Fuck everything. Fuck everyone. Fuck everything under the sun. Fuck your mother. Fuck your father. And fuck your neighbors just for fun. Fuck your kids. Fuck your wife. Fuck your face and fuck your shoes. Fuck your job. Fuck your coworkers and fuck your monkeys uncle too. Fuck everything. Fuck everyone. Fuck me and fuck you too.

Fuck the north. Fuck the south. Fuck east and fuck the west. Fuck the locals. Fuck the tourists. Fuck the worst and fuck the best. Fuck your car. Fuck bicycle. Fuck your segways and fuck your motorcycle too. Fuck your bills. Fuck your chores. Fuck your hopes and fuck dreams too. Fuck everything. Fuck everyone. Fuck me and fuck you too.

Fuck the right. Fuck the left. Fuck the moderates and the rest. Fuck the goose steppers. Fuck the extremeists. Fuck the nationalists and fuck the passivists. Fuck the politicians. Fuck the cabinet. Fuck the president and the electorate. Fuck the religious. Fuck the atheists. Fuck the fundamentalists and fuck the fence riders too. Fuck everything. Fuck everyone. Fuck me and fuck you too.

Fuck the lovers. Fuck the haters. Fuck the monosyllablic boobs. Fuck the articulate. Fuck the incoherent. Fuck the geniuses and fuck the morons too. Fuck the warriors. Fuck the cowards. Fuck the instigators and saber rattling tools. Fuck the salesmen. Fuck the tax man. Fuck the government and fuck the infrastructure too. Fuck everything. Fuck everyone. Fuck me and fuck you too.

Fuck this poem. Fuck this writing. Fuck this shit and fuck breaking the forth wall. Fuck your pain. Fuck your pleasure. Fuck your problems and fuck it all. Fuck the sensitive. Fuck the stoic. Fuck the self helpers and fuck philosophers too. Fuck the talkers. Fuck quiet types. Fuck the critics and fuck the defenders too. Some of you may laugh. Some of you may scoff. But that will be quite of you for now. So kindly piss off!!

[theapacheviking210]

The Walking Dead Needs To Die (Or Why I Learned Not To Worry & Stop Watching Established Franchises)

To start, I feel the need to address the naysayers. Yes, I am aware that the main series we know as The Walking Dead is already done. Despite the fact many people that were surveyed still believe that the flagship Walking Dead series is still activity making episodes. But by my estimation, the mainstay series of the same name is not truly over. How many of these awful spinoffs are there? Daryl Dixon? Dead City? The Ones Who Live, (aka The Rick and Michonne mini-series spinoff)? There's already discussion online of doing not only rebooting ‘The Ones Who Live’ to its own recurring tv series, but there is also talk of other potential spin offs as well. 

It really seems like the soulless ghouls that work at AMC keep shuffling out the lifeless, zombified husk that is The Walking Dead. In all fairness, it’s hard not to see why. After all, it is by and large their biggest earning franchise since AMC started making their own original television shows. Yet, as disgusting and rotten as this series of TV shows has become, it's hard to believe that at one point, this was my favorite series not only on TV at the time it originally came out, but my favorite show of all time.

When I first learned about the original Walking Dead TV show, I was an O.G. George A Romero zombie fan and could not be more excited. I absolutely loved the original Dead Trilogy, as fans refer to it as. In particular, the 1985 film “Day of the Dead”, although many fans usually tout one of the first two films to be their favorite. But hey, what do you want from me? I’m a child of the 80’s. Give me a break. Despite the fact the original main series premiere aired almost 15 years ago, I remember that long past Halloween night in 2010 as though it was yesterday. This was an exciting time for entertainment. My friends and I literally gathered around the TV and it was almost like a party because it was that exciting to everyone involved. We had never seen anything like that. 

The first scene is of a Sheriff’s Deputy named Rick Grimes, played by actor Andrew Lincoln, pulling up to an abandoned encampment in his police cruiser with gas tanks in hand. No background music, no other people around and the hum of cicadas. Amongst this abandoned makeshift encampment there were clear signs of violent struggle. A ramshackle mess of abandoned belongings, as well as vehicles converted into makeshift tents scattered about. Not to mention the remains of lifeless, rotting bodies decaying in the heat of the Georgia sun. The scene is both stark and startling. The absence of a background score really adds to the suspense, and at the time, was a bold creative decision. 

Despite hoping to find what he needs, Rick only finds a lone little girl in a filth coated bathrobe and slippers, who slowly picks up a teddy bear. The little girl’s face is out of the shot, obscured by one of those aforementioned abandoned vehicles. Rick calls out to the little girl, identifying himself as a policeman. Yet, she stiffly turns around and the shocking reveal is made. This little girl was in fact dead and had reanimated as a zombie. Her blonde hair is matted down in patches and caked with blood. Her eyes are milky and discolored, mouth fixed in a gritty position, baring snarling teeth, as well as a good chunk from her right cheek that is torn away from what we presume is a bite that was the cause of her current infected state. 

Sheriff’s Deputy Rick Grimes is shocked and aghast at this startling sight, as well as the audience. The zombified girl’s free hand reached out for her prey, with the other hand still grasping the teddy bear in the other and snarling like a rabid animal through gnashing teeth. This gruesome sight caused Rick to shuffle back in panic when he realized she was in fact a walking corpse. He drew his colt python .45 magnum pistol from his holster, then shot her directly in the forehead. The undead little girl’s lifeless corpse crashed directly onto the pavement, still clutching the teddy bear, no less. Blowback splatted around the concrete where her lifeless body fell. Blood trickled from the entrance wound from her forehead. Roll opening credits. 

We were absolutely stunned by this cold open (if you’ll excuse the bad pun) and it’s hard not to see why. It’s arguably one of the best and most shocking opening scenes in a TV series of all time. Never mind what happened in the rest of the episode. Up to that point, the idea of a zombie apocalypse TV series was completely unheard of. I remember vividly how it was considered at one point a true cultural phenomenon. Keep it mind, this was at a point in time where cable TV was still a mainstay of entertainment. 

Breaking Bad was in its prime and Game of Thrones came out around this time period as well. Streaming wasn't a regular thing for people quite yet. It was there in the same way that the earliest smartphones were when they first became available, but not as prevalent as they are today. Now streaming movies and shows is a given expectation just as everyone having smartphones capable of running those streaming services are inside of their pockets.

In the earliest years that The Walking Dead was on the air, I was almost obsessed with it. I watched every episode, downloaded them when they became available online and it was something everyone was discussing at work the following week. I felt like the lead character from Fight Club. That following Monday, all that was on my mind was the next episode that would air that upcoming Sunday night. It was all I could think about. 

I had read the graphic novel of the same name and compared similarities and differences in the show. I went onto websites that gave glowing reviews of that week's episode. We had a group viewing amongst my friends of the following week's episode, engaging in speculative discussions about the next possible plot outcomes and waiting with bated breath to see what was going to happen next. Unfortunately, this period of enthusiasm would not last for either myself or society at large. 

Fast forward about another five to six years. This is the moment I myself, as well as many others feel like the anchor series officially jumped the shark. This was a tv series fuck up for the record books. At the end of season six, we were introduced to one of the most compelling and vile characters in the Walking Dead series lore. The barbed wire wrapped, baseball bat welding, overly enthusiastic antagonist named Negan. 

His presence was built up throughout the entire story arc of season six, due to his infamy as a character that was directly from the graphic novel as well. The series six finale was a scene that is now infamous in Walking Dead lore, but not for the reasons the series creators had hoped for. Which would have been a pretty cool idea on paper. But in execution, it was done quite terribly. 

Negan and his gang of fanatical henchmen had ambushed the group of survivors led by the main character Rick Grimes. Negan basically explains that because Rick's group had killed several of his group members, that they ‘had to be punished.’ So he uses his barbed wire coated bat, which he named ‘Lucille’ to beat one of the members of Rick's group to death. After a very tense game of eeny-meeny-miny-moe, Negan selects his victim that he will beat to death with his bat Lucille. Yet, at the last possible second, the otherwise well executed and suspenseful scene cuts a way to a first person perspective shot of the faceless victim looking up at the villain Negan. He then proceeded to beat the person with his bat, blood trickled down upon the screen for further effect. Before the final blow, the scene had abruptly cut to black. 

What… the… fuck… AMC!? Now try to keep in mind that since season two of the series, the show was divided up into two parts. With the first half of the season airing just in time to wrap up before the holidays, followed by the mid season premiere airing about three months later. With about another six month wait between when the season finale initially aired and the premiere of the following season airing later in the fall. So this cliffhanger ending that had been teased as ‘an important character death that was going to be part of the season finale’, didn’t actually happen because it ended rather on a teaser cliffhanger. 

So now, the fans had to wait almost a whole six months to see who was actually supposed to die at the end of season six!! Again, AMC, what the actual fuck!? Needless to say, this was an idea that went over pretty poorly with The Walking Dead’s otherwise hardcore fanbase. Now keep in mind, this wasn’t the first crack in the series, but it was the moment that the slow but steady descent of quality on what used to be my most favorite tv show of all time, quickly turned into a full blown freefall. 

As early as season four, I saw cracks in the show. Including what I heard referred to as ‘boomerang storytelling.’ Which is basically a story arc that revolves around a single character, that typically ends on a predictable cliffhanger, and the story arc doesn’t get resolved until anywhere from two to four episodes later. Typically in a rather underwhelming manner that served no purpose, from a storytelling standpoint. 

Not to mention more and more wildly inconsistent character decisions and cringeworthy speeches that became so infamous amongst the fanbase, it would be referred to as ‘Gimple-speak.’ Referring to the lead showrunner and head writer at the time, Scott Gimple. For those of you who are creative writers like me, or at the very least, aspiring writers, for the love of sweet baby Jesus and his ten tiny toes, never ever fucking write something that doesn’t make sense under the premise of ‘because this moves the plot forward.’ If you take anything else away from this long winded rant, it should be that. I would compare it to an offering of rotten, spoiled meat when you would otherwise expect a fresh serving of filet mignon for dinner. And yes, there will be plenty more zombie puns throughout this long winded screed. 

It wouldn’t be until the season premiere of season seven we would learn who was going to actually be killed by Negan, the baseball bat wielding antagonist. We would learn that he would actually kill two different people, as a way to divert the expectations of those who had already read the graphic novel version of events. The first of two people in this episode to die would be the character of Abraham. A redheaded, handlebar mustachio sporting, military veteran. Who got a pretty decent departing line in his final moments by telling Negan, before bashing his head in with his barbed wire wrapped bat named Lucielle, to ‘suck my nuts.’ 

Yet, this was only meant to serve as a diversion. The real reason they had teased the death in the season six finale would become apparent as the events in this episode would (de)evolve. After an initial outburst of aggressive protest from members within Rick’s group, Negan had warned the other survivors in Rick’s group that he would allow them a pass for said outburst, but if it were to happen again, he would ‘shut that shit down, no exceptions.’ Yet, despite the fact Negan had already beaten Abraham to death in front of this captive group, despite the fact they were hopelessly outnumbered, one of the mainstays of the show, Daryl Dixon decided to let his short tempered attitude he was already so well known for get the better of him. To which Daryl would clock Negan in the face with a (not so) well delivered left hook. 

This was a dumb move, both on Daryl’s part, but also from a writing standpoint. It’s a classic example of a character taking a wildly inconsistent action to justify moving the plot forward. Negan took great exception to this transgression. He decided to use this as justification to kill yet another member of Rick’s group. A fan favorite, no less. The character of Glenn Rhee, who had been a series regular since the second episode of season one. This scene pulls no punches at all. Which was as shocking as it was graphic. Negan delivered the first swing, mortally wounding Glenn. 

Glenn’s wife, Maggie, who was also a regular character on the show, screamed out in lament at what was the imminent demise of her husband, Glenn. Blood streamed down his face, his left eye was bulging out from the socket. It’s a brutal and gory scene that really served to demonstrate the depths of depravity that Negan was willing to go to. Negan even took time to revel in this blatant act of cruelty. He taunted and teased Glenn, by describing his eye bulging out of the socket, calling it ‘gross as shit.’ After a pause, Negan considered if he should spare poor Glenn, but after a moment of silent contemplation, he then repeated his earlier refrain of ‘no exceptions,’ then battered Glenn’s skull to a pulp. His lifeless, twitching body laid on the ground. Safe to say, Glenn wasn’t going to walk that one off.

Now, at a glance, this could have been an amazing scene. However, what didn’t make it work was when the scene took place from within the series. This was the opening scene of season seven. When the scene would have worked a lot better if it had been the finale of season six like the showrunners had teased the fans for over the entire sixth season to begin with!! I remember telling a friend about it, describing it at the time as ‘blowing their load’ within the first episode of season seven. And boy was I right. That was the first time in the series I recall this show that I had once regarded as my favorite tv show ever became a real chore to tune into every week. 

Gone were the days when The Walking Dead was the talk around the water cooler every Monday. The times when my friends and I would all gather together to watch the show, speculate about the upcoming events, as well as reading the once glowing reviews on fan websites we long gone. Instead, if it was ever brought up to begin with, the show was described at work with disgust. The scoffs at the water cooler were blatant as they were apparent. Reviews online were by and large about the show's stark decline in quality. I stuck in as long as I could throughout that sad seventh season. But the joy compared to the earliest seasons which had long since died, had then mutated into an abysmal chore that seasons eight and nine would become. And boy was it a fucking chore at that point.

By the premiere of season ten of The Walking Dead, I couldn’t even bring myself to watch it anymore. I watched about twenty minutes of the first episode of season ten, and said to myself, out loud no less, ‘Fuck it, I give up!! I give up!! I tap!! I fucking tap!!’ It was then I turned the show off for the last time in utter disgust. It felt like a betrayal from an otherwise close friend. I had been tuning in over the last couple of seasons, saying to myself that I had invested so much time in this once favorite show of mine. Lying to myself and buying into this sunk cost excuse for as long as I could. 

It was truly a soul crushing experience for me. In fairness, I hung in there a lot longer than most. Most of the fans tapped out around that aforementioned premiere of season seven. In some cases, even earlier than that. A part of me hung in there for as long as I could in the hope that somehow the showrunners could turn things around, in terms of quality. But that first twenty minutes of the tenth season was the final nail in the coffin for me. The show had become such a chore that it was not fun to watch at all anymore. After investing about a decade of my life into this show, I couldn’t even fucking stand it anymore after just a scant twenty minutes of viewing for that first episode of season ten. 

Now what is it that I am trying to say? Within a rant that even surprised me in how this very long winded it became at this point, I have literally sunk several hours of time into writing? Well, quite simply, The Walking Dead needs to die. As if the title of this essay didn’t already give that away. Trust me, it’s been a long time coming too. And also, it’s not just The Walking Dead either, it’s a lot of other establishment franchises that have long since outstayed their welcomes. Marvel, DC, Star Wars, Indiana Jones, Terminator, Aliens, Back to the Future, Predator, Fast and Furious, the live action Disney movie remakes and even shows like The Simpsons are many, yet only a few of the most glaring examples that come to mind. 

These movies and TV shows are just a few examples of the creatively bankrupt, unwelcome series of franchises that should have taken a fucking hint quite some time ago. Factory churned out, CGI smattered dogshit that people couldn’t make more clear are not mother-fucking wanted by their now aging fanbases. Dressing up a five dollar script in multi million dollars worth of CGI that looks like something from the era of Playstation 3 graphics doth not a great franchise make. We’re not interested anymore, we haven’t been interested in quite some time, and for the love of God, please stop condescending the audience. 

You’re like the friend that long since outstayed their welcome, and no matter how many times that friend has been told that it’s getting late and it’s time to go, they’re just not taking the hint. No matter how many times we’ve tried to show you to the fucking door, you just won’t take a fucking hike. You treat your fanbase like they’re stupid, they’re going to pick up on it pretty goddamn quick. Stop gaslighting the fan bases of these long standing movies and TV shows. Calling the fanbase ‘toxic’ because you made an absolutely abysmal product, doesn’t distract anyone from the fact you are churning out absolute dogshit!! You can polish a turd until it shines like gold, but it will never be a fucking brownie!! 

Now don’t get me wrong, I understand from a business standpoint why some of these franchises keep churning out these IPs. Hollywood is a business. Disney is a business. Fox is a business. AMC is a fucking business. That’s fair to say. Yet, how many of these established properties do you need to run completely into the ground until these companies learn that people are not fucking interested anymore?? Perhaps that is what needs to happen in order to bring it to a stop. Maybe more people need to vote with their dollar and their feet before the corporate entertainment industry will finally figure that the shit they keep recycling and churning out is just that… It is just plain shit. And I for one, as well as I am sure a rising group of viewers and fans alike, are ready to let all these establishment franchises die a well deserved death. Hence the expression, “good riddance to bad rubbish.”

[theapacheviking210]

What Is Love? (Baby Don’t Scam Me No More)

So this seems like a question that is pretty obvious to most people. What is love? Its most literal definition is an intense feeling of deep affection. A great interest or pleasure in something. Or also defined as a great interest or passion in a pursuit that one does. Upon a cursory examination, it seems like a pretty obvious question. But maybe like most things, unlike the textbook definition, there's a little more to it than that. Love is an idea that we are sold throughout our entire lives. That love is the greatest intense feeling, interest, pleasure or passion one can pursue. But maybe like most societal expectations, perhaps it is a bit of a load of bullshit?? Let’s dive into what I believe is the greatest scam ever sold. 

What is love? What does a smug, cynical, self described douchebag have to say about it? Why should you care about it? “What??? Are you serious?!? Shame on you, you misanthropic son of a bitch!! How else are we going to support the prophylactic and erectile dysfunction medication industry?? How else are we going to encourage more breeding stock to support an already beleaguered and inhumane workforce?? How else do we expect to maintain a society that seeks to grind people down to a nub, forcing them to spend their entire lives with the wheels spinning in the mud, only to die (ironically enough), from a literally broken heart??” Well like most of the societal lies we are sold in order to support the corporate exploitative class, we are sold love as though it’s the most sacred of all pursuits. 

We are told that love is the most wonderful thing of all. That you’re going to be walking around on Cloud 9, right next door to seventh fucking heaven and your feet are literally hovering above the ground. Love is portrayed as though God himself gave you the ability to levitate. But as one of the true sages of our time and age, Rich Sanchez of Rick and Morty fame once accurately pointed out, “the thing that we call love is just a chemical reaction that compels animals to breed. It hits hard, then it slowly fades. Leaving you stranded in a failing marriage.” How else are we supposed to sell overpriced candy and bullshit cards on Valentine's Day?? Why make objective observations when we could just turn our brains off to keep lining the pockets of the corporate industries that are literally the only reason that Valentine's Day exists as we know it today in the first place?? And I have the ghal to wonder why I'm still single.

So what is love? The most common example I would cite when I was younger are my grandparents. Sadly my grandfather who passed away recently at the ripe old age of 94 years, is a textbook example of what I would point to when I was a young man. Not to say that I didn’t see something similar with my own parents, who are still together to this day, but hear me out. My grandparents stayed together for over 70 whole years. My grandparents were married longer than most people will be alive. However, my poor grandmother is also close to shuffling off of this mortal coil as well. Now arguably, she is a similar age, so it seems pretty obvious that someone in their 90s wouldn’t have much more laps around the proverbial track. 

Yet, as is often the case, when people who stay together for a long time, it’s pretty much well known by most people, that when a couple who is together for as long as they were, typically the case is when one passes away, the other will inevitably follow. And that is what love really is, it’s not being able to live without that person you have felt such a deep and intense sense of affection for. It makes you, but it more often than not, totally breaks you. It can be something that can define your life in a good way. Yet, as is so often the case, it can also be something that can define your life in an incredibly bad way as well. I don’t think love is inherently a bad thing, but I think the scam of love being sold to us the way it has been, is definitely not a good thing. 

Take marriage for instance. Throughout most of human history, marriage wasn't much more than a pragmatic obligation. A chess game that served as a form of societal hypergamy. Usually something that happened for royalty to transfer power and land ownership. Love very seldom had anything to do with it. The idea of love being part of that contractual agreement is a more recent notion. Particularly in the last couple of centuries or so. Up until female empowerment and the feminist movement during the late 60s and the 70s, women got married for pragmatic reasons as well. It was typically because women were not able to enter the workforce or own property. So the only way to secure those things was through the unholy abomination (read- sacred institution), we call marriage. 

Fast forward into the 2010s and onward, one in every three marriages are consistent of couples that met online. Yet, not ten years prior, if you told you met your significant other online, you were considered a stalker or sex pervert. By the way, if marriage is such a sacred institution, why do over half of those marriages end in divorce? Why do one in six divorces mention social media platforms, such as facebook, somewhere in the verbiage of said divorce proceedings paperwork? Well, a lot of people who are the ardent defenders of the idea of love as it has been sold to us, will say it’s the decay of traditional values. Or the attack of the family unit. But yet again, it’s just another lie that society sells to us. The brokenhearted and rejected, they are the majority more often than not. 

Speaking of dating apps and social media, these platforms are only making the issues of rejection and heartbreak even worse. As I mentioned earlier, one in three marriages happen because the couple met through either a dating app or on social media. People are so terrified of rejection that they have avoided the more traditional, in person method of meeting new people. They’re shitting their pants in fear of something that should be so simple as approaching someone at a coffee shop or a bar, only to be simply told, “No thanks, I’m not really interested.” Why risk the abject terror of an otherwise minor inconvenience of being told, “I’m not really interested,” when instead you could be swiping away to find the mirror image of yourself? Someone who speaks, thinks, earns, believes, votes, dresses, acts, and fucks just like you want to? Who needs to find a partner when you could find the romantic equivalent of a sycophant? 

Now I can understand why some of the observations that I have made come off as dismissive and cynical, but as frequently I have evoked his most holy name George Carlin, or as I refer to him, Saint George the Bullshit Slayer, he was rightful to say that ‘when you scratch a cynic, you will discover a disappointed idealist.’ I admit openly to my cynicism. But, that doesn’t make any of the things I have said throughout this long winded screed any less true, cynical as it may be. But don't take my word for it. Look at the way our society blatantly hypocritical viewpoints regarding how we look at love. We seldom bat an eye when a rich, hideous troll marries a woman who is 30 years as Junior. Yet, we scoff as a society at the idea of a woman being married to a man who's just as hideous, broke as a joke but has a heart of gold. 

So what is love? What am I trying to say here? My point, in its most simple form is this; love is just another product that is sold to us. It’s a cellophane wrapped, prepackaged product that is mass produced and peddled to us, ad nauseum. It is yet another product that so many people are selling, not because of what it offers, but selling instead to you, the consumer, the fear of what your life is going to be like without it. So if you want to avoid being stranded in a failing marriage, or dying of a broken heart, might I suggest asking yourself a very poignant, and critical question. Is this a product that you actually need? Or is it just another load of bullshit because the way fear is used like a club to beat you over the head in order to keep you thinking for yourself? I’m all for open mindedness. I'm not against the idea of falling in love. I'm simply saying that the way love is sold to us is making the rare exception made to sound like the rule of thumb. But I will close my myopic rant with a quote from Carl Sagan, “it’s important to have an open mind, but not so wide open that your brains fall out.”

[theapacheviking210]

The mask we wear (the myth of polite society)

From a young age, I’ve been aware of this weird divide in reality that often goes overlooked. It’s like I had this internal compass guiding me between the pruned garden of polite society and the wild thicket of what people really think and do. I remember walking down the playground, watching how kids behaved. Those sweet smiles on the surface masked a whole lot of chaos. You could hear the whispers about the “weird kid” or see the way friendships could shift on a dime, showcasing a level of cruelty that seemed too advanced for their years. Life felt like a stage, but I realized more and more that everyone was just reading from a script, often not even the same one.

As I grew older, this sharp contrast only became clearer. I’d absorb the assumptions adults shared, like how you should “play nice” or “always be polite.” But behind closed doors, the complaints, the gossip, and the little betrayals painted a far different picture. Witnessing the disparity between how adults presented themselves in polite company and how they truly felt about each other was eye-opening. It felt as if the world was festooned in a bright façade crafted from flattery and social niceties, yet peeking behind it revealed a darker, no-holds-barred reality.

This truth was most tangible in social situations where everyone was on their best behavior, think family gatherings or office parties. People would go to great lengths to maintain that polished image. You’d see half-hearted laughter, forced smiles, all while underneath it, resentment bubbled. The polite nods and comforting words seemed so detached from the actual sentiment. It made me wonder why we bother with this charade when the underlying tensions are so obvious.

I recall a family reunion where everyone put on their best face. Ostracized Aunt Karen, whom everyone whispered about, tried to engage in small talk, only to meet veiled criticism disguised as concern. While she attempted to share stories, the undercurrent of judgment and disdain was palpable. It struck me then how society dictates this polite behavior, yet underneath lurked disdain, jealousy, or even disgust. The division was stark—a performance everyone was bound to play, regardless of their true feelings.

School became a microcosm of this reality too. The hallways echoed with laughter, and kids would put on these charming facades, trying to fit in or stay under the radar. An outsider like me could see the cracks forming in friendships, the betrayal whispered in shadows. This constant push and pull, where everyone needed to craft their identity to fit in, was fascinating. It wasn’t just about rejection of the oddball. It was about maintaining a hierarchy of what's “acceptable” while the real relationships festered quietly, often with no regard for the scripted niceties we had been taught.

Then there were the moments people stepped out of the shadows, shedding their polite exteriors. A petty squabble would erupt, and suddenly the masks would slip. Within seconds, the true colors came out, a torrent of insults, accusations, and all the ugly truths we tried to bury under the surface. It was in those moments that the polite words meant nothing, revealing the raw emotions that usually lay concealed. Watching someone’s mask slip was both alarming and illuminating, highlighting how fragile that civility really was.

Growing up, I learned to navigate these waters, to distinguish between the polite gestures and genuine intentions. I often found myself in conversations where people revealed their more authentic selves, sometimes in the unlikeliest of places—like a dirty bar late at night, or during a random deep chat with a friend. That raw and unfiltered honesty felt like freedom. It was refreshing to hear thoughts unembellished by the need to conform, conversations stripped down to the core of what it truly meant to be human—flawed, imperfect, and, quite frankly, a bit messy.

However, I couldn’t ignore the discomfort around me. People are generally hung up on what society expects, and the pressure can be overwhelming. Even those who plan to break free often find themselves slipping back into that polished routine, afraid to rock the boat. It’s understandable, honestly. When you step into harsh realities, it can be daunting. Yet, wouldn’t it be more liberating to embrace the ugly parts of ourselves? Is living behind a veil of politeness worth the energy it takes to maintain?

I sometimes ponder what it would be like if everyone dropped their masks and told the truth—no sugar-coating, no pretentious small talk. Conversations would be raw and fraught with discomfort, but they could also bring forth much more meaningful connections. Imagine walking into a room and discussing not just the weather but the annoyances of life, the heartbreaks, the struggles that felt burdensome. That kind of rawness fosters a different kind of understanding, one where we’re participating in life’s messiness together rather than pretending we’ve all got it figured out.

Of course, there’s an inherent need for a balance. Politeness has its place; it helps smooth over social interactions and keeps the wheels turning. But maybe we’ve leaned too heavily on the artifact of nicety, burying our true selves underneath layers of expectations. What if we focused more on authenticity? The ability to express our thoughts without fear of judgment could build better relationships, creating a space where we could all feel seen and heard.

Reflecting on all this, I can’t help but wonder what the future holds for the next generation. Will they continue abiding by the outdated norms of decorum, or will they carve out a space where authenticity is celebrated? As we move through the societal landscape, it’s essential to nurture those honest connections while recognizing the polite facades for what they are: a crutch that sometimes keeps us from truly knowing one another. If we embrace our genuine selves, despite the chaos, perhaps we can spark a change, leading to a environment where the polite version of reality serves as a stepping stone toward something much richer and more profound.