THE
SHITHOLE
GARAGE
a book of arbitrage
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While we do work here at The Shithole Garage, most of it is highly-skilled work: computer programming, systems administration, and to a lesser extent, automotive diagnostics.
The thing is that to get venture capital funding in the West in this day and age, highly-skilled work isn't what gets companies funded. What gets companies funded is the prospect of creating places in employment for useless, incompetent, obnoxious white trash from historically agripeasant gene pools who do what little work they do every day badly, while the Federal Reserve Bank does the real work of aggressively pretending the money supply is a lot smaller than it actually is in order to maintain extortionate foreign exchange rates. Marketing, logistics, operations, finance, accounting, sales, management, human resources - once you're hired at The Shithole Garage, you can pick your own title. We don't even care what it is. Just be careful about what title you pick: if you pick logistics we might make you go get the mail sometimes, for example. You'll have an office to go to and be incoherent and conniving and passive-aggressive to everyone at, and that's what's been identified as important to Western agripeasants-turned-office workers by top consulting firms over and over again. Some of our Wiggerists will never need to even come into the office, ever, so powerful is their Wiggerism. Either way, we need Wiggerists, and we need them now. At the same time, we also don't care what color your skin actually is, nor do we care what sort of genitals are between your legs or whether you've decided to have them cut off or even stitched back on again. You can be Black, or Hispanic, or Asian, or...or...whatever...and still work as a Wiggerist at The Shithole Garage, in fact, we think we'd rather enjoy that. You can even express your Wiggerism ironically if you have to, as long as you make an effort to be consistent. We also don't care if your sexual preferences imply you might marry a man, or a woman, or a child, because all of those things are legal in the United States under the Full Faith and Credit clause of the Constitution, which stipulates that Full Faith and Credit shall be given in each State to the public Acts, Records, and judicial Proceedings of every other State. Want to be a Wiggerist at The Shithole Garage? Talk to us now: callforwiggers@shitholegarage.com
Our culture is super cool. There are three rules. One rule - no callouts of anyone who works at The Shithole Garage over anything. We don't care what you think about anyone or anything, we just pretend we do sometimes, again, because best practices identified by top consulting firms say that we should pretend to earnestly listen to the opinions of people who historically haven't even been literate until about 1930 or so because it keeps them from rioting. Another rule - don't talk to the clients. Ever. James does that, because our business essentially sells expertise but you don't really know anything. Final rule - no racism. None whatsoever. Not tolerated. America's White Anglo Field Peasant demographic is a worthless dump with an offensively absurd culture, but we're asking them for money, and the old maxim of "Don't bite the hand that feeds you" is how we deal with that.
We're also hiring for a Global CWO - a Chief Wiggerism Officer. The CWO will be responsible for securing funding so that we can build out our Wiggerism Apparatus and pay our Wiggerists while simultaneously also paying James and the programmers doing the work. If you're really good at living, doing, being, and most importantly, scaling useless incoherent white trash all the time and can get money for it, we want to talk to you, and we'll even give you a 50 percent stake in the company if you secure our first venture capital round: callforwiggers@shitholegarage.com
An inevitable conclusion one can arrive at, after some time of being well-educated and well-travelled, is that most large regional city centers are rather packed with suspiciously wealthy, yet surprisingly dull men and women, with surprisingly wild variations in mood and temperament that only rarely appear to be event-driven. So goes Gaia; so go the mid-level executives of middle America and the men and women in and around their lives, unconsciously responding to the vibrations and undulations of the animal moods of the planet whilst simultaneously choking it slowly to death with their carbon emissions. Therein lies the need for Wiggerist Work: in a country of revolutionist peasants predisposed to violence, there must surely be an alternative to imprisonment, that typically being considered inhumane for those who in a psychiatric sense merely lack the capacity to self-regulate.
Boca Raton, hometown of our founder James, is perhaps the most significant historical global epicenter of Wiggerist Work, the birthplace of the most profoundly ridiculous personal computer architecture ever proposed throughout the entirety of the 1970s and 1980s, the deformed and nearly-stillborn brainchild of Don Estridge and great-grandfather of the "Wintel" PCs on desktops the world over today. Don Estridge, as James once retold an houseguest at his rented Bromont, Québec farmhouse next to a graveyard the night of 25th January 2020, suspiciously died in a fireball above Irving, Texas at a critical fork in the road for IBM's desktop hardware roadmap and commercial strategy - a fork that took the IBM PC away from the RISC processors that IBM built itself nearby in Bromont, digging its common hole with Intel even deeper instead. As the wine ran out, the clock struck midnight, and as the conversation came to a close, a massive crowd of cats - perhaps 30 or more - began to assemble in the backyard. As their howling came to an incomprhensible crescendo, their midnight convocation approaching a decibel range at which one would ordinarily call in police on comparable human activities, James and his houseguest parted ways for the evening and went to sleep in their respective rooms, the guest looking forward to a full day of skiing in Bromont, and James planning to rise early for work.
The next morning the news of Kobe Bryant's tragic death in an helicopter accident rocked the airwaves. As millions shared their outpouring of grief across the globe in response to the loss of this incredible American athlete, James felt the weight of an incredible lesson of nature repeated for him yet again: just as Kobe Bryant and his entourage had lived out the previous evening's retelling of an influential corporate executive's untimely demise decades prior, performed for an audience of a British Columbian skiier and a crowd of cats next to a 19th century Québec graveyard, this was certainly not the first time he had witnessed this powerful phenomenon of wild-tempered animals of all kinds living out stories already written.
Indeed Boca Raton provides powerful fodder in evidence of this phenomenon - that of wild-tempered peasants inexplicably following scripts of which they demonstrate no awareness whatsoever. One particularly notable such incidence is an infamous He Who Shall Not Be Named of Boca Raton cult celebrity, the son of a local restauranteur at whose restaurant James' mother was once a regular in the wild '90s - a man who allegorically lived a 1967 Soviet horror movie, Vij, repetitively for decades, even strongly resembling its male lead, while the female lead also resembles another cult celebrity from the same region of south Florida who shall neither be named nor linked, despite the fact that The Shithole Garage was actually inspired by a bizarre and totally unsubstantiated extortion attempt against James by one of her relatives. Such is life in South Florida.
(We host "Vij" above, just for shits and giggles, but if you want to watch it with English subtitles, click here.)
Something must be done to free these natural-born Wiggerists, these poor, impulsive little souls, from their spiritual torment. Religion does little good in this day and age: it is too abstract, notions of exorcisms and the like too strange and occult. Better they had something useful to do; an office to be shut up in; invisible demons to fight that actually exist - those used over radio waves by manufacturers and the National Security Agency to torment owners of Bush-era BMWs, for example. At The Shithole Garage, we daresay we'll bring the grand olde days of Wiggerist Boca Raton Technology roaring back. You name it, and make sure you pay a lot for it, and we'll build it, and it'll be every bit as authentically shit as the original IBM PC and everything else Don Estridge's people ever built was. Why? We don't know. James doesn't even live in America anymore. But we'll even rent out the old IBM building in Boca, we guess, because at The Shithole Garage, we go where the Wiggerists are, and, well, it's mostly empty anyway.
As Tolstoy once wrote, in extrapolating upon human perceptions of the motion of a train engine, "A locomotive is moving. Someone asks: “What moves it?” A peasant says Satan moves it. Another says the locomotive moves because its wheels rotate. A third asserts that the way it moves is somehow connected with its smoke, as it is carried away by the wind."
Prescience about future jet-propelled trains aside, Tolstoy then goes further: "The peasant is irrefutable. He has devised a complete explanation. To refute him someone would have to prove to him that there is no devil, or another peasant would have to explain to him that it is not the devil but a German, who moves the locomotive. Only then, as a result of the contradiction, will they see that they are both wrong. But whomever says that the movement of the wheels is the cause simply refutes himself: having begun the analytical process, he ought to continue on and explain further why the wheels go round; and until he has reached the ultimate cause of the movement of the locomotive, the pressure of steam in the boiler, he has no right to stop in his investigation to determine the cause. The one who explains the movement of the locomotive by the smoke that is carried back has noticed that the wheels do not supply an explanation and has taken the first sign that occurs to him and, in turn, has offered that as an explanation. But the only interpretation that can explain the movement of the locomotive is that of a force commensurate with the movement observed. The only interpretation that can explain the movement of the peoples is that of an understanding of the force commensurate with the whole movement of the peoples."
