Spud media

Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen! Spud Underground is a weekly curation of my favorite news stories. Last week’s economics issue was a little dark, and nobody wrote in to refute my claims, so I guess it’s all true. America is on the outs. Throwing a fit about it won’t do any good, so we may as have some fun. It’s the Decline Show, starring everyone in the world, with a live studio audience: you and me.

I mean, just look at the people behind the whole thing. The politicians are all losers, but it’s really the masses who do and believe exactly as they’re told that are making this circus happen. There is no shortage of those guys. They are wrong about everything, all the time, and proudly jump from one wrong thing to the next. They never learn and they never apologize, because they don’t care how wrong they are. They are shameless sock puppets with no brains and no morals. You have every right to point at them and laugh. If you were smart, that’s exactly what you would do.

If you were even smarter than that, you’d capitalize on the decline. Precious metals and crypto are very accessible to illiterate serfs like you and me. Bet against the dollar. Enjoy it, make money from it, and when your guts hurt from laughing, pack up and leave if you so choose. That’s a hell of a lot better than becoming a paranoid drunk with no friends, like me.

If you like this newsletter, you can support it by buying my wonderful literary masterwork Viperhawk: Witness Protection on Amazon. If you already read it and liked it, consider leaving a review. As always, feel free to subscribe in the big yellow box below and watch Spud Underground materialize magically in your email every Wednesday night.

Stay Dangerous, My Friends

-RJ

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FOOLS ON FIRE

Suicide can be noble. If you’ve got some years on you, you’ve used your life to contribute positively to the world, you’ve had kids and raised another generation, and then the doctor tells you to get ready for an excruciating death by cancer- you know what? Go ahead. Spare your loved ones the pain of watching you wither and die. Hunter Thompson and Robin Williams are examples of this. If you must, do it with honor and reverence like a samurai. Certainly don’t celebrate it.

Ignoble suicide is done for attention. It’s one desperate attempt to get all eyes on YOU. It’s pure narcissism to think that your problems warrant that kind of attention, or that you are so special that you don’t have face the music like the rest of us. Nobody’s life is that great, but we live it anyway, because that’s the human adventure. Even more ignoble is to kill yourself in the name of a stupid cause. Most ignoble of all is to celebrate any of this. Can we treat death with some goddamn dignity, please?

Aaron Bushnell was an Air Force serviceman who burned himself to death in front of the Israeli Embassy in Washington, D.C., as a protest against Israel’s war in Gaza. The Israelis didn’t care. The Palestinians didn’t care. The only people who cared were his grieving mother and a bunch of internet-dwelling dorks. Bushnell, aged 25, could have gotten a good 50 more years of doing something useful and inspiring. Instead, he stir-fried himself for fifteen minutes of fame. His name is already fading from memory. As soon as the next “current thing” hits the news, every TikToker who lauded him will forget that the whole stupid genocide even happened.

I’m drudging up this annoying story because somebody did it again. Max Azzarello roasted himself outside of Donald Trump’s hush money trial in New York City last week. He died in the hospital on April 19th. He was a self-described “investigative researcher,” who had been seen outside the trial the day before holding this insightful sign:

He published a manifesto before the “extreme act of protest,” and it’s pretty bad. It reads like the insane ramblings you could expect from something like this, full of logical dead-ends and broad claims that surely sounded a lot cooler on Adderall. My favorite passage is:

“Lastly, we string these major discoveries together: Cryptocurrency is an economic doomsday device; our government is a secret kleptocracy; The Simpsons exists to brainwash us. From there, the only research we need is critical thinking and we’re able to piece together the true story of our circumstances.”

If you’re aspiring to be an “investigative researcher,” good news! A spot just opened up, and it doesn’t sound that hard.

If you really believe in something, wouldn’t it be better to lead the charge… alive? Wouldn’t you be more useful to the cause if you could actually participate? Instead of trying to make a real difference, these people are just killing themselves and patting themselves on the back for it. Imagine a war where your enemy charges at you and then shoots himself in the head. That’s like a victory by forfeit.

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WOMEN’S SPORTS IS A DICK MEASURING CONTEST

Lia Thomas made headlines when she won the national NCAA women’s swim title for Penn State back in 2022, despite the hydrodynamic handicap of a cock and balls. Thomas swam on the men’s team for three years where he won nothing. Then he became a chick and starting breaking records left and right. He’s back in the news, because he just got his butt kicked by a girl. Except this girl is a boy. You heard me.

My favorite part about reading articles like this is navigating the labyrinth of pronouns. To make it easy for you- our fair lady Lia has a schlong. The handsome gentleman who beat her is Iszac Henig, who has a cooter. Henig’s victory over Thomas is a tremendous win for women. Except it isn’t, because she’s a dude. Maybe it was a win for transgender athletes? Except the loser was also a trans. Oh, forget it. Let’s just look at how fucking stupid these two look when put side by side:

I have a proposal for women’s sports that makes it all equal. At the beginning of every game, the referee whacks each player in the groin with a yardstick. Everyone starts the game a little sore, but the women with balls are at a much greater disadvantage. I would tune in early to see trannies get hit in the nuts.

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HOT CHICK OF THE WEEK: ROSE HART

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ALBUM OF THE WEEK: ANOTHER PERFECT DAY BY MOTÖRHEAD

Another Perfect Day is the first Motörhead album not to feature Fast Eddie on guitar. He parted ways to start another band called Fastway, leaving Lemmy lamenting a legend lost. Motörhead, never known for slowing down, hired Thin Lizzy stand-in Brian Robertson for a one-off recording session that took the band in a slightly different direction. It’s more psychedelic than Overkill or Ace of Spades, with longer songs and a glittery sheen, but it’s still Motörhead through and through. ■