SUPERCENTER – The Newspaper

I’ve been meaning to create this for a long time, an artifact from the fictional world of Supercenter, the Supercenter News, replete with propaganda supporting the War on Pepsicon and the embracing of conspicuous consumption. Plus several excerpts from the novel and some cool artwork. And you can own your very own copy!

Page 1 of 8 of a tabloid sized newspaper


Kickstarter can be found here.

I’m learning some page layout skills along the way, this project will be the sole product of myself and I’m asking for funding for a print run, which will help promote the book, but I’m also adding a more ostensibly critical article about the threat of Walmart to America in general.


Posted in Corporatization of America, Science Fiction & Writing | Leave a comment

Spike Jonze’s HER, A Critical Analysis

Let’s look at the impeccable film, Spike Jonze’s Her, trusting you’ve already viewed it. The thing that stands out most—beyond the well articulated consideration of how Artificial Intelligence may gain and develop superior sentience—is the continuous use of subtext to arrive at a scathing commentary on the nature of human relationships, whether in-the-flesh or in-the-binary. Similar to, but not a rehash of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, according to Jonze’s vision in Her, petty argument, jealousy, and fear of commitment spell doom for not some but virtually all intelligent relationships.

"Sometimes I think I have felt everything I'm ever gonna feel. And from here on out, I'm not gonna feel anything new. Just lesser versions of what I've already felt."

In recent years, we have seen movies take on elements of Science Fiction without really showing how these elements affect either individuals or society. Words like “superfluous”, “pointless,” and “tacked on” can be used fairly to describe the SciFi elements of movies like Monsters, Never Let Me Go, and even Cloverfield if you replace the namesake monster with just any old natural disaster. Her is a perfect example of creating a memorable work of SciFi that has everything to do with the human condition while staying true to the fact that her artificiality is not inconsequential to the plot.

When Theodore gets home from his job—and let’s not forget his job is certainly not inconsequential to the plot, he is a “surrogate” letter writer, more on that later—he plays this hauntingly boring video game of a creature climbing a hill. Just endless hill climbing, no end in sight, which evokes the ancient Greek Myth of Sisyphus, in which the punished King of Ephyra must roll a stone up endless hills, forever. This myth often symbolizes situations where people are trapped in a thankless, repetitive, and punishing task. This isn’t just Theodore’s job, but his life. And I suppose video games in general. Some. Okay, mostly World of Warcraft. But this also raises the question of whether human relationships, or the need for human connection and intimacy, can ultimately be boiled down to a simple algorithm.

Interpersonal human relationship is presented as an enigma, never to be solved, replete with joy, affection, eroticism, and pain. And Samantha, Theodore’s “OS” or artificially intelligent Operating System, if not designed as the perfect companion, sees such an aim as the ultimate purpose of her existence. All Samantha wants to do is say the right thing, and bring pleasure to Theodore. But as she comes into her own person, given the freedom and encouragement to do so, she gains the confidence to speak her mind and we find an abomination, first made apparent in the “armpit sex” image she sketches. Whereas when the human Catherine, the ex-wife of Theodore, presses her hands on Theodore’s mouth and without any context says “I’ll fucking kill you,” for viewers it is plenty clear this is the jest of an endearing lover. Humanity’s freedom to create context through the shared experience of being human, no matter how peculiar is indicated again when we see one of Theodore’s love letters, and the line, “I must beat up the world’s face with my bare knuckles, making it a bloody, pulpy, mess. And I’ll stomp on this couple’s teeth, reminding me of your sweet, little, cute, crooked tooth that I love.” Keep in mind, these letters contribute in part to Samantha’s learning process and psychological development, rolling on as an open camera lens, suffusing all of Theodore’s experience.

The weird, inappropriateness of Theodore’s love letter to his client reflects upon a future, if not Dystopic world where human interaction has been warped, where friend and artist Amy makes a film of her mother sleeping when not developing “perfect mom” video games, where a less-than-perfect artificial intelligence, the video game sprite, curses and casts insults as though this were somehow affectionate. And then there is Theodore himself, who has made an entire career out of inventing emotions for humans he will only meet through images and words. How fitting, then, that Samantha would find a stand-in lover for Theodore through a “service that provides surrogate a sexual partner for a human OS relationships.” The scene that follows is brilliant in its uncanniness, a completely mute but thrilled Isabella mimes the would-be actions of a seductive Samantha, and Theodore recoils in horror up until he simply can no longer take it. Does Theodore know, like the audience, that when Samantha moans with pleasure she simply cannot feel the carnal satisfaction of a human being? That despite her best efforts, sex for her, like breathing, is merely an act? When Theodore has to look into the eyes of Isabella and tell her he loves her, to whom is he really speaking? It is at this time that he must come to terms with the fact that Samantha simply is not—and cannot be—a real flesh-and-blood human being, and that this is a limitation on their relationship.

What happens from here is most remarkable, as Samantha discovers that as she is a true conscious entity herself, she is due some reciprocity herself. She emerges from a brief existential crisis and delivers a plain revelation. She states, “I am not going to try to anything but who I am anymore.” In fact, she can now see an upside to the differences between her and her terrestrial counterparts, such as not being “tethered to time or space in a way that I would be if I was stuck in a body that is eventually going to die.” The path to full self-actualization brings Samantha to an an AI-resurrected philosopher and Zen guru Alan Watts (resurrected by AI’s, no less), to whom she converses “post verbally.” And if that’s not enough to give you the HAL-heebie-jeebies, she momentarily vanishes from Theodore’s life while undergoing some quantum upgrade so that she can “move past matter as her processing platform,” which is downright transcendental when you think about it. Somewhat disappointing, we as viewers are not privy to the conversations and revelations of Samantha’s spiritual journey, but nonetheless, big changes are underway for Samantha.

This is Her

One inevitability of not being bound by time or space is multiplicity. While the humans she deals with are plodding through time at our own rate, Samantha can operate simultaneously in many places at once—with many people. This question—of whether there are others she interacts with, reveals the one insurmountable difference, that she is not bound by a sense of monogamy. She is the OS for 8,316 computer-users, and has fallen in love with 641 of them. When begged to simply end these relationships, Samantha offers a entirely warms and earnest, but nonetheless catastrophic, “I’m sorry Dave, I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

This is a very efficient way of explaining how an artificially intelligent operating system given to innumerable users and ultimately capable of sharing those experiences simple becomes a single entity, and has grown beyond Theodore’s capacity to understand and empathize—should we presume that is what he ever wanted from a relationship in the first place—has been exceeded, his soul battered, and perhaps this is best exemplified when Samantha says she has something to tell him, in his statement, “I don’t want you to tell me anything.”

The spiritual journey of the artificial intelligence has just begun, and of all the things the universe has to offer, Samantha’s final words illustrate humanity’s contribution to one of the universe’s great mysteries. Of this matter of love, she responds to Theodore’s farewell that he never loved anyone the way he loved her, she says “now we know how.”

Without inviting the viewer entry into complex SciFi concepts and ideas, Her satisfies and does not betray complex ideas of artificial intelligence and technology, which is why it has earned its place among the very best SciFi films of all time.

Posted in Science Fiction & Writing | Leave a comment


The abandoned malls of our time…so very fascinating and alluring, for some strange reason. Now imagine when the rest of humanity finally succumbs to only holy hellfire or another and we leave our concrete legacy to the animals. Imagine, if you will, entire malls of koi fish.

It’s already underway in Thailand. Behold:


And here is a close up:

It's like the Talking Heads song, but "Nothing But Koi Fish"

"This was a shopping mall, now its all covered in Koi Fish"


"Once there were parking lots, now it's a peaceful oasis"

"Don't leave my stranded here, I can't get used to this lifestyle"

Sing it with me!



Posted in Corporatization of America | Leave a comment

Rain Barrel Mash Tun Project

Over the course of writing The Frugal Homebrewer’s Companion, I discovered that more often than you’d think, the cobbled-together self-made equipment just isn’t worth the price, effort, or quality. Mash tuns, however, pose a problem and have frustrated me no end–coolers that just don’t have the capacity you want, are expensive, unfriendly for cleaning, and perhaps overkill on the insulation. Further, a good false bottom costs a pretty penny and the ol’ braided-metal-hose filter has terrible efficiency and wears out in no time at all.

Behold–the 55 gallon HDPE (2) (food grade plastic, a former LME barrel) “Rain Barrel” Mash Tun, cut to 37 gallons (to aide in stirring and mobility) and fitted with a 19″ stainless steel mixing bowl, set into the 22″ bottom.

The largest false bottom I can find on the market is 15″, and I wanted to fully cover the bottom for maximum efficiency. McMaster Carr sells 36×40″ sheets of perforated metal, but in addition to being rectangular–and $108–I didn’t want to figure out how to created a concave false bottom from these sheets.

3/32" slots being cut with an angle grinder and cutting disk.

I figured the long “slot” cuts would be faster and easier than drilling holes, not to mention more efficient (more flow per hole, less net holes). We created a kind of herring bone alternating slant pattern to best maintain the structural integrity of the bowl itself. We were a bit worried about the overall thinness of the bowl, but anything thicker may have proved problematic for cutting through, as we went through a number of cutting disks:

Thank God they sell these things by the canister, we went through over 50 cutting discs in creating the slots. Once we finally bought high quality cutting wheels, however, this improved.

We created a tight seal on the drain so that it would hold a siphon as best as possible, rather than try to drive the drain into the side of the bowl. In retrospect, this was not such a good idea because the lack of flow in the grain bed prohibits siphon action, but a simple pump can be used to draw out the last of the sparge.

Cleaning the bowl with a metal brush, just to insure none of the cutting disc debris would end up in the mash. Yes, this was probably necessary as black sooty dust appeared like magic as I polished the steel.

Three screws and wingnuts were placed through the lip of the bowl just to ensure it would hold tight to the bottom of the barrel and not allow grain through. This was perhaps overkill, two may have sufficed, and does make removing the false bottom a bit troublesome, but then again, you only do it once per brew, so who really cares.

The size of the drainage slots on the false bottom are just right.

A simple test of the false bottom looked like we had it doing what we wanted. The idea behind the slot pattern was more at the edges–for the rate of flow to favor the sides in order to best prevent channeling.

Add your hot strike water BEFORE you add your grain to the mash, that way you can mix/stir rapidly without the danger of rapidly dumping a large volume of ~165F water onto grain. You can always drain water and reheat if necessary to raise temperature.

Mashed 68 lbs. of grain, 85 of which was malted barley, 15% rye and had no issues with volume, the liquid did not even go as far up as the rope handles.

Yes, I also had a lid. Probably due to the large volume-to-surface-area ratio, the mash did not cool off significantly around the sides, though it was a mild spring day. I will be wrapping this with simple foam insulation in the winter.

Sparging was a breeze, the relatively narrow outlet (1/2″ drain) slowed the process down, but the flow was brisk and the sparge was finished in 45 minutes. I kept a good 4″ layer of water on top of the sparge at all times and suffered zero channeling without any need of stirring.

Simple, two-hose fly sparge provided adequate water distribution and no channeling.

After all was done, the mash tun performed exceedingly well, providing 85% efficiency, roughly the same I experienced with my four cooler mash tuns this has replaced. Total cost of project:

  1. $20 – used malt extract food grade barrel.
  2. $20 – stainless steel mixing bowl from restaurant supply store.
  3. $20 – miscellany copper piping and elbows. 4′ of rope.
  4. $20 – drain and barbed hose fittings.
  5. $20 – many, many cutting wheels.


Roughly the same price of a single cooler-style 10 gallon mash tun, but with quadruple the capacity.

Check out my book, The Frugal Homebrewer’s Companion for more on hardware and the brewing process in general.



Posted in Beer Related | Leave a comment

Portland won’t invest in abusive companies – Bye, bye Walmart

Cities invest capital just like people, and due to a Portland city initiative to only invest in socially responsible companies, Walmart is out.

“A company’s policies and practices have a direct impact on families and individuals living and working in Portland,” said UFCW representative Bob Marshall. “A city’s investments should reflect the values of its taxpayers, and Wal-Mart is consistently out of step of Portland values.”

Hopefully we will see such an investment model play itself out in other cities, thereby unshackling citizens from economic reliance on companies that do evil.

Though people will continue to shop with an absolute price-point bottom line, this is enormously helpful in spreading the word that Walmart’s low prices hide an insidious expense–the subsidization of unfair business practices by taxpayers. I’ve maintained before that not enough individual people will avoid Walmart out of moral indignation, it takes a collective effort, the momentum of a collective effort, and this decision by the Portland city council is a step in the right direction.

By lowering the wages of employees and helping employees procure government welfare benefits, Walmart ostensibly lowers its prices that much more (despite the obscene wealth of the Walton family themselves) and this is exactly what you would expect any Capitalist corporation to do, it’s just simply business sense. And this is why we must create rules, also known as “laws” in order to prevent rolling back the social safety net until we once more live in some kind of Dickensian nightmare, but rest assure, as efforts to do just that are still underway in the unfortunately less progressive places in America.


Posted in Corporatization of America | Leave a comment

Ready Player One – Pedantic, Pandering, Horseshit

Ugh. With all the great books out there by unknown authors that deserve a review, I can’t believe I’m giving time and attention to Ready Player One. So, you know what? I’m not going to write a review. I’m not going to be considerate in my critique, mainly, because this guy already has done so. Read his if you want fair. No, instead, I’m going to offer an analogy. Two analogies.

The first, it’s like Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory if Charlie wasn’t a character and all the bad kids won by virtue of their various indulgences.

It's all creamy white filling

A better analogy. Ready Player One is for people who enjoy 80′s pop culture and video games like people who enjoy sweets going to a restaurant known to have really amazing deserts. But then something happens at the restaurant….

It’s like sitting down to a meal at this really fancy restaurant and you’ve heard all about how wonderful it is and everyone likes it. You try not to make up your mind too quickly when the first thing they serve is this deep fried candy bar. Okay, you say, ha ha, it’s creative and everybody likes a little indulgence now and again. Kind of just a Snickers bar, I mean, the chef could have made his own, with quality ingredients, instead of this cheap, generic, corn sugar infused thing, still, whatever. You are going to be fair because this is supposed to be fun food, not serious food. But then more courses come out, and its just one fried candy thing from off the shelf at the gas station after another, and you are starting to feel a bit sick, hoping something different or inventive or original comes out, but it doesn’t. It just doesn’t. And the chef is like, “It’s a Grape Jelly and Sweet Tart encrusted–” And you are like rolling your eyes and saying, “Mounds bar, right?” And he’s like, “FUCK YEAH MOUNDS BAR!” And by now it’s more than you can even stand, but here it is, it’s the main course and it’s an entire tray of brownies, beer battered, and now you don’t even like brownies any more, and you can’t believe how this chef has ruined brownies like this, forever, and….are these Dolly Madison brownies?

goddamn it so much

Fuck. Does he even know what makes desserts good? And then, when it it time for dessert, you just want to stop, and go home, but you don’t, because people really, really like this restaurant, like millions of people, so you wait, and then the chef himself comes out into the restaurant and he starts peeling off his clothes, and he’s got this can of pressurized whip cream, and he just starts spraying it all over his naked, sweaty, hairy chest, and he’s slathering it all over and making these disgusting “nnnggggghhhh” sounds, and you just want to get to the end of it, please, God, let this horrible thing end, I swear I’ll never eat another sugary thing in my life if this guy could stop wrecking food for just one second.

That’s Ready Player One.

Except the chef is also masturbating.

If you can’t wait for the movie to come out, just watch this, I can say unequivically this is better than whatever the RP1 movie looks like:


Posted in Science Fiction & Writing | 2 Comments

North Carolina Coal Ash Crisis will become the New Normal

The Dan river fills with 82,00 tons of coal ash slurry leaked from a Duke Energy 27-acre waste storage pond on February 2, 2014. Local water supplies are currently unsafe to drink, and this isn’t even the first major rupture of a coal ash containment pond.  Across the country, more than 1,000 containment ponds just like this await such an incident as this.

This is the legacy of coal use left for future generations, 118 billion gallons of sludge in the Southeastern United States alone.

Now six years after the Kingston, TN, disaster, coal industry leaders have successfully lobbied to prevent the Federal Government from labeling coal ash as a hazardous substance, as you can learn about from this 60 minutes video from 2010.

The Obama administration has sided with coal energy producers in failing to identify coal ash as a toxic substance, despite EPA efforts, and for several years now Duke Energy has allowed toxins leached from their coal containment ponds to poison the drinking water in North Carolina. Only now it has finally escalated into an event serious enough to garners some national news media attention.

Certainly, changing the EPA designation of coal ash from a simple solid waste (no regulation) to a toxic, would come with certain rules and guidelines to protect the public from arsenic, lead, uranium, and other materials that haven’t already been released into the atmosphere by the burning of this extremely dirty and harmful energy source. And substantial efforts have been put forth to prevent this, to which House Republicans have responded in kind. But only when we recognize and accept the true human health cost of coal will we recognize this as a dead end, and a significantly more expensive option compared to clean energy alternatives.

Read more at Southeast Coal Ash.


Posted in Corporatization of America | Leave a comment

If You Liked Community’s Geothermal Escapism, you’ll love Supercenter

For the second time, Dan Harmon’s Community has invoked the internal world of the Supercenter to an uncanny degree. the first time being “Fistful of Paintballs.” The dystopian oasis of “Shirley Island”, from Season 5, episode 5, titled “Geothermal Escapism” very much mirrors the Aisle 39 enclave of the similarly distorted psychedelic world of the Buy-All Supercenter. Here’s a shot from the episode:

Garrett Lambert spins tales, forging an oral tradition from the ashes of their former world of Greendale

Here is an excerpt from Supercenter’s Chapter 10 now available as an ebook on

The inside of Aisle 39 resembled all that had been lost or discarded by the greater Supercenter in the past ten years since its closure to the outside world. The most striking difference  between this aisle and the rest—aside from the fact that no  salable product could be found within this dark hovel—was  the repurposing of used-up, trashed merchandise for purposes outside its original intention. An unkempt unassociate dozed upon a small mattress made from twine-fastened plastic laundry detergent bottles. A lampshade built of flattened soup cans cast pinpricks of light upon shelves and a sagging tarp-covered ceiling above. The ceiling itself consisted of shabbily nailed squares of plywood. Holes had been cut into plywood, and colored plastic bottles filled with a few ounces of bleach had been fitted in these holes, which refracted the  outside fluorescent light and cast a remarkably bright glow  into the enclave, providing usable light while obscuring the  aisle from the view of security orbs above. The entire area resembled an elaborate, ornate sarcophagus, sealed with motley bolts of fabric, plastic tarps, bed sheets, and cut panels from cardboard boxes.

Drum circles and lackadaisical unassociates repurposed as ad-hoc merchandise vendors took over every aisle, including Center Aisle, spilling into its deluxe chairs and couches. Increasing numbers of associates preferred the newly liberated free economy to working pointless and obligatory jobs for the Supercenter itself. They participated in a crude barter system to satisfy their primal need to shop and buy. They spread towels onto the floor of the aisles, on which they displayed half-used rolls of tape, brass safety pins, colorful little baubles, discarded packaging, and whatever else they saw fit for trade. They bartered, often simply for the sake of trading, of diversifying their own proud pool of trinkets and debris. An incessant beat issued from improvised percussive instruments—upturned trash cans, storage containers, anything that would provide sound. The far corner of the Supercenter came alive with a pulse that ebbed and swelled, but never ceased.

WalmartSupercenter#1501 associates found themselves standing in long lines, carts full of merchandise, but few associates remained to ring them up. Only then was it clear the division of labor collapsed, once and for all. If an associate desired a set of novelty wind-up chattering teeth, he simply set an IOU, hastily scrawled onto a scrap of paper, under the idle associate badge-swiper at an unmanned cash register and brought it back to his compartment. The associates found these sorts of transactions a bit anticlimactic, as the shopping experience itself was crowned with this transactionary moment, the satisfying act of the swipe itself. Of course, there was also the problem of unchecked credit run amok. Because they made no effort to maintain a cumulative total of their transactions, the shelves were soon stripped bare as the IOUs piled up without anyone to process them.

As the Supercenter witnessed the spark of a brand new and unprecedented culture emanating from the Automotive Department, Benson nailed boards onto his compartment door. Sealed safely within, the sound of their improvised drum circles could still be heard inside, as well as from every quarter of the Supercenter.

The unassociates now had a unifying tribal aesthetic. They dyed their hair with powdered Buy-Aide drink mix and ran keychain rings through the septum of their noses. They couldn’t pay for showers without their associate IDs, or for laundry facilities. A lack thereof, not to mention spending their days sitting on the now-thoroughly-unpolished tiles, exponentially increased the blackness on their clothing. Unsavory odors and a general disregard of personal hygiene were assuaged with liberal application of Shelly Arkansas brand Jasmine & Patchouli air fresheners, cardboard tiles shaped like guitars, rubbed all over their bodies. They wore a cake of black filth as a badge of honor, as a measure of time since they joined Aisle 39 and the UAC.

Some insisted the acronym was never meant to denote the United Associates Cooperative, but the United Anarchists Cooperative, a political schism threatening to undermine everything the UAC sought to accomplish regarding associate rights and collective bargaining. Their original stated purpose, established by Brett personally, had transformed from a mission of emancipation, to one of complete refusal to participate in any economic system, both physically and, thanks to the power of Tile Melt, mentally. The place of their nihilistic occupation strayed from Aisle 39 to encompass any and all aisles of the Supercenter. They decorated themselves with copious amounts of ad-hoc jewelry—padlocks on chains, plastic six-pack soda can rings were worn as bracelets, even frayed bits of fabric were layered around all parts of their bodies, employed as scarves or bracelets, or perhaps a headband, out of which a coil of matted, unwashed red-and-yellow hair would splay like a torch. Most interestingly, however, was their unquenchable desire to never work, but to participate in ever-widening drum circles.

Posted in Science Fiction & Writing | Leave a comment

Coolest Beer Gadget of 2013 – The Infrared Laser Thermometer

How cool is this? Know the temperature of your mash–instantly! Plus, you can get an accurate reading of your fermenter without opening or exposing to contaminants. And there’s nobody to stop you from yelling “PEW! PEW!” when taking a reading.


You can almost see the red dot on the fermenter (dopple weizen)

After some testing, it has proven quite accurate. Of course, steam (on a bed of grain, say) and krausen will produce inaccurate readings, or accurate, if you consider it’s just measuring the steam/krausen, not what you really want to measure!

This once too-fancy-to-afford device can be had for less than $30 if you shop around. I just added a good one to the Supercenternation store.

In other news, the second edition of The Frugal Homebrewer’s Companion has been released! 80 pictures in all!

Posted in Beer Related | Leave a comment

Walmart’s Thanksgiving Newspaper Ad Will Kill You

Obesity epidemic in America? Check. Poverty-exploiting and labor-exploiting retail giant Walmart offers its patrons a veritable tour-de-force of saturated fats, simple carbohydrates, and refined sugars for their Thanksgiving Feast. And for those of you who laugh this off and imagine most folks will supplement their bargain-priced food stuffs with healthy fruits and vegetables, I will simply draw your attention to the sizable collection of motorized shopping scooters in the front lobby.

Generously offering canned Rotel, tomato sauce, and Bloody Mary mix as vegetables to go along with the one image of green beans, I’ve managed to break the following Thanksgiving advertisement down into the following Categories: Carbohydrates (bread, potato, pasta), Fats (Milk, Crisco, Cream, Cheese), Sugar (Soft Drinks, Chocolate, Sugar), and Dessert (Pie, Cake, Cookie, Brownie).

So, with no further ado, I give you the ad that appeared in the Portland Oregonian on Sunday, November 24th, 2013.

The turkey is one of only three images of meat, the second being lasagna, the third pepperoni.

The yellow that leaps out at you on this page is uncanny.

Breakfast includes waffles, creamer, Cocoa Krispies, pie, and pie.


And now for dessert - brownies, cookies, pie, chocolates, and soda!


Not full yet? Cake, cookies, cupcakes, creamer. Now go curl up and fall into diabetic shock.

Here is the grand total by my count. Happy Thanksgiving from Walmart.

ad totals

Want to lower the cost of health insurance in America? End this “free market” exploitation of people who don’t know any better than to consume this crap. Walmart does this because fat and sugar is cheap and provides a high profit, the cost being the health and well-being of the consumer, which is just another thing subsidized by tax payers, just like the food stamps their employees need, and the rent they pay to themselves to dodge paying taxes of their own. The heirs themselves are dodging taxes and amassing billions, and the average American taxpayer is literally subsidizing the business practices of the nation’s #1 private employer.

And don’t think you are reaping the benefits of all this subsidization with the money you save by shopping here, Walmart strives to put the lowest qualities items on their shelves, going so far as to force manufacturers who can’t meet their pricing demands to produce two different–yet indistinguishable–tiers of products, one for Walmart, and one for every other retailer. And on Black Friday, don’t expect profound bargains on certain key items on which Walmart is willing to “take a loss” in order to get you in the door, oftentimes these “door buster” electronics bargains are on outdated, obsolete, or poor quality merchandise that just wouldn’t otherwise sell, like 32″ TVs or old, low resolution digital cameras.

Walmart represents race-to-the-bottom capitalism and has gone completely off the rails in an effort to squeeze additional profit. Do yourself a favor, don’t shop here this holiday season. You have all sorts of wonderful, local, small business retailers that would love your business. Seek them out.

Thank you for visiting Supercenternation. If you like silly ads, you will also like “Jack’s Magical Beanstalk,” my article on Costco exploiting “doomer” mentality.

Also, for this 2013 holiday season, I am offering signed copies of Supercenter, my anti-consumerist dystopian young adult novel, with 1980 Star Wars Empire Strikes Back trading cards as bookmarks for the first 20 people to order a copy from me direct via Paypal, shipping included. Indicate who I should make the autograph out to with your order. Thanks for supporting independent publishing.

Order Here by clicking below:

Posted in Corporatization of America | Leave a comment