Slices of Life 2

If Trump’s weapons overseas are bombs and missiles, his domestic ones are primarily words.

with gratitude to Linh Dinh at Postcards from the End.

Biggest, Longest and Hottest Wordsmith Ever — Aug 09, 2025.

Michael Snyder’s The Economic Collapse Blog has been around for over a decade. Its gathering of raw statistics is most useful. Snyder has also published seven books on the rapture, including The Beginning of the End (2013), End Times (2022) and Chaos (2023). Having gained a following, Snyder decided to run for congress as a Republican in 2018.

Vung Tau, Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, 11/30/24

The Idaho News on 1/1/18, “Michael Snyder says he is not a politician—but a firebrand, fighter and 100 percent supporter of President Trump.

“‘He restored my faith in America,’ Snyder said.

“[…] If elected, Snyder says he wants to be Trump’s ‘best friend in Congress.’”

In the Republican Primary, Snyder got just 10.3% of the votes, so finished fifth. Not every boy can grow up to be a congressman. As for president, the morally depraved have the best chance, but keep in mind that nearly everyone is already excluded, so stick to your fireman job fantasy, and only fools dream of walking on the moon or Mars.

Of 47 US presidents, only one had German blood. None had French or Spanish. Old World feuds are still being fought. Nearly all POTUSes were Englishmen with roots in the English Colonies. Though Trump and Obama don’t have this pedigree, they can easily be blackmailed. The compromised will wreck his nation to save his sick, corrupt ass.

Chastened by defeat, Snyder has returned to what he does best. On 8/7/25, he wrote, “If everything is going to be just fine, why are thousands of stores closing all over the country? So far this year, the total amount of retail space that has been permanently closed has surpassed 120 million square feet […] Store closings spiked during the early days of the pandemic, but in 2025 stores are being permanently shuttered at an even faster pace.”

Vung Tau, Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, 8/8/25

MAGA diehards would dismiss this as doom porn. It must be fake news that 5,822 stores have closed during the first half of 2025. What about all those newly opened? On 8/8/25, Trump posted at Truth Social, “Stephen Moore: ‘Mr. President, you gained ten times more income for the average family than Joe Biden… Every income group did better under Trump than Biden—by a wide margin…’”

Ten times?! With every income group doing better by a wide margin? Is this like gas at under two bucks and drug prices being reduced by 1,500 percent? Far from that madhouse, I’m appalled and fascinated by this information war. Having kissed Trump’s ass so heartily, Snyder can’t blame his (ex?) idol for the very economic collapse he’s documenting.

As with the Holocaust, Israel’s right to exist, 9/11, Bin Laden’s supposed assassination, Jewjabs, America as beacon of democracy and champion of peace, Arabs as head chopping fanatics and Jews as always persecuted for no reason, narratives matter very much. Words shape reality. With all eyes on him globally, any American president is most powerful, even if he’s just taking orders. With Trump, there’s the added horror of seeing English being degraded most tragically and farcically. There’s no more shame in spewing outrageous lies in the crudest, most cartoonish language. Sickest are those who worship this crass idiot. Again, Trump mirrors America.

Trump’s tariffs raise prices, so people shop less or shoplift, thus bankrupting stores. This generates many more desperately broke blokes who must travel further to stuff cans of tuna if not a whole frozen chicken into their pants. “Why you look so hard at my bulging crotch, man?!” If it doesn’t quite fit, you can unzip to release part of the cold cock.

There’s a new trend of grabbing snacks from Walmart shelves, to be eaten in situ, but this lifestyle revolution can only be practiced if there’s still a Walmart within 30 miles or so of the storage unit you call home. Since all your neighbors are similarly destitute, you can’t even turn tricks to earn gas money. Five must squeeze into a compact, then, to go raiding. Wilding will spread.

Those who don’t have a storage unit or car to sleep in soon go apeshit from being exposed nonstop to the elements and, much worse, fellow humans. There’s always a healthy percentage among them who can’t wait to rob or rape you, even if you’re just a fetid sack well past your expiration date. Since it’s only “best before,” a can of baked beans stamped “31.12.25” can still be consumed a century later. There are good news! If you haven’t been bludgeoned or sodomized at a hundred years old, Trump can now pack you into an insane asylum. If you’re a Hispanic or American Indian, you might even be rewarded with an open ended foreign vacation.

Vung Tau, Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, 8/8/25

Though Trump’s ICE’s targeting of brown people has cheered many whites, it’s only misdirection. He’s screwing whites, too, only differently. Most dangerously, he’s normalizing lawlessness, on top of vulgarity and idiocy. Unleashing mayhem and terror, Trump burps slogans, cliches and lies to an audience lobotomized over decades. If Trump’s weapons overseas are bombs and missiles, his domestic ones are primarily words. Since these still work well on nearly half his country, Trump must be America’s most formidable wordsmith.

Even before it stopped making stuff, America was mostly about branding, misnaming and marketing. The worst bread ever was called Wonderbread, the worst cream was dubbed Miracle Whip. As the US declined, its self promotion became absurdly infantile, to suit its own citizens. Who cares if billions outside are aghast? In the age of selfies, the world is reduced to your face, regurgitated opinions, TV stations, bookmarks, video games, favorite YouTube influencers and the same songs heard over and over.

With American literacy reduced by 1,500 percent, James, Whitman and Pound might as well have written in Chinese. Luckily, America still has Trump.

Vung Tau, Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, 8/9/25

Fart and Run Communication Among the Faceless — Aug 10, 2025.

On 5/12/23, I made a four minute video of the Sacred Heart Church in Pakse, Laos. Since my videos are among the worst on YouTube, I don’t expect likes or comments. In March of 2025, one blanchelobo4420 came on to ask for the time of the English mass on Ash Wednesday. I didn’t even know there was such a mass at Sacred Heart. I answered, “I left Pakse years ago. I don’t know the time of their masses.”

Though blanchelobo4420 was in Pakse, he somehow thought the comment stream of this barely seen video was the best place to get his info. After asking the same question over and over, he snapped, “It is so sad that my several queries regarding the English Mass on Ash Wednesday & what time it is is being ignored. If I don’t get any reply from you, it’ll be on your conscience for preventing me to hear Mass on Ash Wednesday. I plead of you to please reply to my query ASAP. THANK YOU.”

An American Catholic who must attend mass on Ash Wednesday shouldn’t have expected to find any Catholic church in a provincial Lao city, much less one with English services. Almost every Lao is a Buddhist. In Pakse, though, there are Europeans running an Italian restaurant, French bakery and French restaurant, all clustered together downtown. Also, his hotel receptionist must have spoken English, or he wouldn’t have been able to check in. Despite these options, blanchelobo4420 had to harass a Vietnamese who lived 450 miles away.

Vung Tau, Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, 8/8/25

Two weeks ago, I received a message from an admirer of my poetry, particularly my “Brand New Products.” Since Alex was too young to witness my banishment from the US literary scene, he asked me for an explanation. It started with my questioning of 9/11, I replied, then worsened with my straying from polite or correct versions of the Bin Laden “assassination,” Jewjabs and, most damningly, the Holocaust. My collaboration with Iran’s Press TV over several years didn’t help. As my career sank, I felt no regrets. All I cared about was articulating what I really believed to be true.

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” he said. “I definitely don’t agree with the genocide being perpetrated by Israel and the USA right now, but your hate for Jews clouds your literary genius. May one day you be able to escape the chains of hate, for they tie us down rather than empower us. Thank you for the answers to my questions and I hope your weekend is enjoyable.”

So my revulsion over genocides stemming from a genocidal ideology is reduced to my being strapped to “the chains of hate.” I’m sure he has no use for my “Less Than Cockroaches.” Don’t lecture me without reading it.

Days ago, I got a message from Avi Shmoo. “I just listened to your conversation with Kevin Barrett, and I’d love to be in touch with you. Thanks Brother. Have a wonderful, beautiful day.” Sure, let’s talk, I replied. In the warmest tone, Shmoo said he was reading my Wikipedia page and had listened to two of my articles. Decades ago, he also had a Vietnamese friend. Learning that Shmoo was living in Moscow, I immediately suggested we do an interview. I also sent him two I had done with American expats in Russia. Who wouldn’t want to hear about how Shmoo had ended up there? Sure, he said, but, “I try to keep my head down. I stay off the radar. So I wouldn’t want to use the same name (pseudonym) in two places.” No problem, I answered. Below Shmoo’s messages were the flags of Iran, China, Russia, Palestine, not quite Syria or Iraq, and Malaysia. His fake photo was of some fat, clownish white guy in a black wig. Though I had started to formulate questions for this Avi Shmoo, I never heard from him again.

These sketches illustrate how the faceless communicate in 2025. Appearing suddenly, they can just fart then run. With chatbots, it will get even worse, they say. It’s hard to imagine. “Real men” are bad enough.

Tentative titles for this piece were “Tales of Madness,” “Edifying Sketches” and “Madness Buffet,” with the last particularly stupid. The word buffet, though, did make me think of a distant episode. Since insanity is our default state, men were also crazy in the 90’s, but somehow less so, I’d like to think, in my incurable madness.

Around 1990, Korean owned buffets spread across the USA. They didn’t just serve Korean dishes, but Chinese stir-fries, spaghetti, salads, meatloaves, mashed potato and Swedish meatballs, etc. You paid by the pound. It was a winning concept. Walking by one of these in Philly, I noticed its owner standing outside. Puffing a cigarette, his face beamed with a naked pride obvious to every businessman, secretary, construction worker and student strolling by. Starting out in Muju, Asan-myeon or Oksan-ri, this squat man had conquered America, so it was only natural for him so puff out his chest and suck in deeply, so deeply, in fact, that there wasn’t enough oxygen for anyone else within a quarter mile. Suddenly, everyone staggered, gasped and nearly fell down. Seeing this, he felt even more vindicated. I wouldn’t have been surprised had he started crowing like a cock, or pulled his pants down to more fully display his cockiness.

 No less vain, I made a video this dawn that’s even more pointless than usual. It depicts humans and dogs doing not much in silence and darkness. Mrs. Seven can barely be seen scooping some ice, emptying a bucket then making herself an iced coffee. Sơn the security guard is already exhausted before starting his shift. Pretending to give a shit, I hug Mrs. Seven’s two dogs.

zero star lunch chez moi in Vung Tau on 8/11/25

Sadistic Addicts Ready to Convict — Aug 11, 2025.

By the time I could sit down at my first café, it was nearly 4:30PM. Since I would normally be out by 4AM, then have an article done by 9 or 10, I had added 12 more hours to my enormous tally of wasted time. I had woken up with a headache continued from last night.

In Buchner’s Woyzeck, the captain hilariously says, “It’s frightening, how the world turns round in a day. What a waste of time! What does it amount to?” He also tells Woyzeck to slow down his barbering, since the captain has no use for ten extra minutes.

Before drinking my guava juice, I checked on Mo, Cà Phê Cà Pháo’s kitten. He had just returned from the vet, where he spent four days. Counting two days he lay immobile at home without eating, Mo had wasted nearly a week. When not sick, this alert, hyper active animal never squanders a second. You’d never catch him with a cellphone four inches from his face, or playing the same board game with each free moment for an entire lifetime, or watching hundreds if not thousands of sporting contests yearly, with millions of commercial breaks.

Lying half dead at home, I did catch up on some news. A green card holder from South Korea has been jailed for at least a week, after his arrest at San Francisco International Airport. Unlike President Trump, 40-year-old Tea Heung “Will” Kim never murdered or raped anybody. More than a decade ago, Kim was convicted of marijuana possession, for which he did community service. He’s now a doctorate candidate at Texas A&M, researching a vaccine for Lyme disease. Though Kim has been in the US since age 5, he never applied for citizenship, however. Under any other administration, this would not have mattered.

Kim’s attorneys haven’t been allowed to contact him. They don’t even know where he’s being held.

Most revealing are YouTube comments about this case. sheilawilliams2875, “So he had a DRUG charge. Deport him.” karenphu998, “Drug charges? This guy needs to go back to Korea.” georgieboy2432, “Green cards are not a free pass!” JHtx991, “they should also remind everyone you get like 10 yrs in jail for weed in korea [laughing to tears emoji] with a 99.9% conviction rate.” tamelabarr6601, “Blah blah blah blah… he’s not an American citizen.” Most comments are like these. Led by Trump, the US has turned into one hideous society.

How many drugs are Elon Musk on? How many have you tried?

My high school best friend, Brian Robertson, introduced me to weed. Under Trump, Brian became a Senior Policy Advisor and Speechwriter at the State Department and Department of Health and Human Services. He’s also a Policy Director for Republican Senator Sam Brownback. At every junior or senior high school across the USA, anyone could buy weed from a classmate without a problem.

In college, I did weed and lines of coke, once with a professor. This was the era of Cheech and Chong. Not so funny is how the USA will turn nearly everyone into an addict, with self destructive behavior nearly unavoidable. With each waking moment so empty and pointless if not painful, wasting time while dazed, delirious or numb has become the most common solution. Partying means getting fucked up. It’s almost impossible to talk at parties, bars or night clubs. Starved of meaningful conversations, brains dry up, souls shrink and language dies.

Vung Tau, Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, 8/11/25

Now at Cóc Cóc, I’m five yards from a teenaged boy who’s been possessed for nearly two hours by video games. Sickly thin with horrible posture, he wears the uniform of the Vietnam America School, where tuition for the 10th grade is $3,477 a year. This barely Americanized kid isn’t just lost to Vietnam, but anything pungent, tactile or visceral. His eyes are deader than crazed marbles in the dullest color. An aspiring global citizen, he’ll soon have a harem of AI girlfriends to confide and jerk off to. Sex, for him, will be purely visual. Though living next to the ocean, he will likely drown within seconds of being tossed into it.

Before leaving my room, I did make a hybrid dish of San Remo Spaghetti with Cuccina and Armore three cheese sauce, Kikoman Light Soy Sauce, cucumber and roast pork. Though neither Mo nor Mrs. Seven’s two dogs would touch this globalist travesty, it tasted fine to me. To be alive now is to be adrift, or lênh đênh in Vietnamese. That’s almost my name. We’re all Linh Đinh. Culinary miscegenation is perhaps globalism’s greatest contribution.

Sơn the security guard makes around $2,000 a year, so no Vietnam America School for his kids. Fresh again at 7PM, I’ll see this quiet, melancholic man before dawn tomorrow. Impossibly slumped, that 10^th grader’s chin has sunk into his bony chest as his skeletal thumbs dance frantically. Tinny clashes of swords erupt nonstop. Now he’s holding his phone right over his crotch.

About Linh Dinh (@linhdinh):

‘Before being canceled, I was an anthologized poet and fairly prolific author, with my last book Postcards from the End of America. Now, I write about our increasingly sick world for a tiny audience on SubStack. Drifting overly much, I’m in Cambodia.

Born in Saigon, Vietnam in 1963, I lived mostly in the US from 1975 until 2018, but have returned to Vietnam. I’ve also lived in Italy, England and Germany. I’m the author of a non-fiction book, Postcards from the End of America (2017), a novel, Love Like Hate (2010), two books of stories, Fake House (2000) and Blood and Soap (2004), and six collections of poems, with a Collected Poems cancelled by Chax Press from external pressure. I’ve been anthologized in Best American Poetry 2000, 2004, 2007, Great American Prose Poems from Poe to the Present, Postmodern American Poetry: a Norton Anthology (vol. 2) and Flash Fiction International: Very Short Stories From Around the World, etc. I’m also editor of Night, Again: Contemporary Fiction from Vietnam (1996) and The Deluge: New Vietnamese Poetry (2013). My writing has been translated into Japanese, Italian, Spanish, French, Dutch, German, Portuguese, Korean, Arabic, Icelandic, Serbian and Finnish, and I’ve been invited to read in Tokyo, London, Cambridge, Brighton, Paris, Berlin, Leipzig, Halle, Reykjavik, Toronto, Singapore and all over the US. I’ve also published widely in Vietnamese.’

AHH: Please support this wonderful writer on his Substack! Thanks