Tag Archives: Knowgood Carp

Less is More Advice

Being an accomplished white middle aged man in my sixties, it’s my burden to give advice to others especially when they don’t ask for it. They’re the ones who need my advice the most.

I was walking to work after stopping at Breadcraft for my tasty morning pastry and large iced coffee. Ordinarily I don’t see color. Like, seriously, this was the first time I ever saw a brown man on Church Street. He was walking towards me hugging a cardboard box to his chest, as if it held all his worldly possessions. His clothes were wrinkled and dirty and his hair was tussled, but not in a fashionable way like mine.

I always treat people with the respect they deserve so I told him, “Hey, you there, these possessions are weighing you down. You need to jettison them. Be fleet of foot and light of heart. Don’t chain yourself to meaningless things. They just slow you down. Oh, yeah, and get a job, okay?”

When I got to my office of many windows, where I can look down on the street people, I wondered. Do I follow my own advice? Am I weighed down by useless possessions? Of course not, I laughed. I don’t need that mountain house. I haven’t been there in 18 months. I’m perfectly happy with just my high-rise condo and my beach house. I could jettison that mountain home tomorrow. As for my Mercedes, I could get rid of that, no problem. I’d just drive my Range Rover or Lexus. And three girlfriends? I don’t need three. Becca’s a pain in the ass. I could jettison her tomorrow. In fact, let’s get started on that right now.

Knowgood Carp, Owner of all the Hotels on Block Island and Some in Connecticut.

Grease-Dipped Benjamins

Being an important, wealthy, and virile businessman, I frequently find myself in Washington, DC. I bring my banker, Titmouse Beak, and my lawyer, Treacherous Gulp, because I need to accomplish a lot in a short period of time. I also bring suitcases full of grease-dipped Benjamins. You can’t open doors on Capitol Hill without those. I’m joking, of course. No one uses cash anymore; all those transactions are done electronically, but you get my point.

Tuesday morning we were walking by Union Station towards the Capitol. You could smell fried legislative sausage everywhere. Treacherous, Tit, and I are prosperous middle-aged men, so we love watching people fight. We’ll pay fat stacks to see professionals brutalize each other and then bet larger sums on who will limp away and who will go to the hospital. It’s wildly entertaining, and as luck would have it an amateur fight broke out in front of us.

Two men of indeterminate age started screaming at each other. One man was short and worn out. All his worldly possessions were on a blanket next to him. It was a small pile. Another man, tall and emaciated with all his possessions on his back, appeared to have stepped on the blanket. It was difficult to assess if this was an intentional provocation or accidental. Both men were jittery and having trouble standing upright. Nonetheless, the fight was on, and we started placing our bets.

The tall skinny guy should have had an advantage, but he couldn’t throw a punch. He tried slapping the short guy but lost his balance and tumbled to the ground. The short guy went to kick him, but he too lost his balance and collapsed on his tiny pile of possessions. These fighters had no physical stamina, and neither tried to get back up. Needless to say, the fight was disappointing and hilarious, but it reminded me of how, in Washington, DC, you get what you pay for.

Knowgood Carp, Owner of all the Hotels on Block Island and Some in Connecticut

Enlightenment and Joy

Anyone who has read this blog will say it’s mostly pointless. Long ago I proposed changing its name to Masturbating Chimpanzees, because truth matters. A careful reader will note I said mostly pointless, and I did so intentionally because my posts are the only ones worth reading. So congratulations on reading this post. I bring enlightenment and joy.

As you know I’ve been on a campaign to alleviate homelessness in Roanoke. When I walk down Church Avenue, I encounter homeless people. I patiently inform them that they wouldn’t need to live on the street if they would just get jobs. Sometimes I give them a dollar as a jump start to a better life. So far this year, I’ve given away $8.43.

Last February, right before that vicious polar vortex, I encountered one homeless man in particular. I’d seen him before but I’d never had the chance to give him my pep talk. He was messier than most with a raucous grey beard, blank eyes, and ancient clothing. I told him to pull himself up by his bootstraps and gave him a dollar.

I never saw him again. In fact, it’s been nine months since I thought of him, but last night was frigid and he appeared, uninvited, in my mind. That’s when I realized my pep talk and dollar must have saved him. I drove around Roanoke this morning, and he’s nowhere to be found. All because I gave him a second of my time and a scrap of my wisdom. It’s easy to make a difference in the world. All you have to do is care.

Knowgood Carp, Owner of all the Hotels on Block Island and some in Connecticut

Cerebral Thoughts on How to Live a Purpose-Driven Life

When I see or hear someone doing or saying something I find offensive or the least bit disruptive to my sense of propriety, I ask myself a question. Does this idiot’s conduct affect me? If I can come up with some possible way it does, I immediately tell the degenerate to stop, or I will post his picture on Grumblr where me and my fellow like-minded Grumblrs will Grumbl at him.

If the answer is no, this malcontent’s conduct doesn’t affect me in the slightest, I ask another question. Is this pervert finding joy in doing whatever it is she’s doing? If so, I immediately tell her to stop. And if she doesn’t, it’s straight to Grumblr with her.

Knowgood Carp, Owner of all the Hotels on Block Island (and Some in Connecticut)

Planter’s Punch

I’m rich because I don’t like to pay for things – like taxes. And because I’m rich, I don’t have to. Take, for example, vacations. I can afford to pay top dollar and stay at an exclusive resort in a wealthy country. But why would I do that when it is so much cheaper to stay at an exquisite resort in a poor country?

I know what you’re thinking. But, Knowgood, will you be safe? With all the intense pressure you are under everyday as a powerful hotel magnate, how will you relax? We’re worried about you.

Don’t worry. Vacationing in poor countries is remarkably fun and safe. You land at the airport and people are everywhere desperate to help you out for a small fee. It’s as if their lives depend on it. But what’s best is you can haggle. That small fee then becomes paltry.

I hear you. That does sound like fun, Knowgood, but do you ever get a chance to relax?

Sure you do – at the posh resort drinking Planter’s Punch and smoking Cuban cigars while pissing in the colonial blue waters. You can relax because you are perfectly safe. That’s what the men armed with assault weapons make sure of. At least I think they’re men. It’s hard to say because they’re wearing camo with Kevlar vests – and balaclavas, so all you can see is their angry eyes.

It’s impossible not to relax.

Knowgood Carp, Owner of All the Hotels on Block Island (and Some in Connecticut)

Thoughts on the Dangers of Pretending to be a Poet (Part 5)

Delusions of grandeur. Pretend poets think they’re special. Which is ridiculous. Poetry never saved a life. It hasn’t cured cancer. I’m certain it never will considering how much liquor it drinks.

Have you read Lewis Carroll? Pure nonsense.

So this is a message to everyone who pretends to be a poet (and that is every poet living and/or dead): get a real job. You will be happier and so will your family. Poetry has never solved any problem. You know what has? Money and hotels.

If my lazy-ass son had a real job, instead of masturbating all day and calling it a poetry blog, he wouldn’t keep asking me for money. I wouldn’t keep telling him no, and I would love him.

Poetry is easy. I will show you. I literally wrote this off the top of my head three minutes ago.

The Ballad of Knowgood Carp 

I know damn well
when I cast my spell
I will be okay
on the Judgment Day
because I have more money
so I can buy God's honey
and if I want to bone ya'
what I'll do is phone ya'.

Do better than that, B.S. Eliot.  I defy you.

Knowgood Carp, Owner of all the Hotels on Block Island and Some in Connecticut

Annie Ernaux’s Exteriors: The Most Honest Review Ever

Don’t read this book. It’s a fraud.

I don’t normally give book reviews, because I don’t normally read books. They’re a waste of time, and this one sure was.

First, it bills itself as a memoir. Now, when I think of memoir, I think of great men, like myself, doing great things, like own hotels. To my surprise, this memoir was written by a woman. I was immediately suspicious. What has she ever done? The answer is nothing. She rides trains all day and makes observations. I could do that, but I have better things to do. And for this kind of crap someone decided this Annie Ernaux woman should be awarded the 2022 Nobel Prize in Literature. It just confirms why I never had any respect for that award.

Second, Annie Ernaux has no friends. Nor should she. She’s a voyeur who is obsessed with eavesdropping on strangers – as if strangers can tell us anything about ourselves or our world. Yet, she seems to think so. Here’s something stupid she said. “It is other people – anonymous figures glimpsed in the subway or in waiting rooms – who revive our memory and reveal our true selves through the interest, the anger or the shame that they send rippling through us.”

The only time a stranger ripples me is when she’s sexy. Then the hunt is on, and she won’t be a stranger for long.

Knowgood Carp, Owner of all the Hotels on Block Island and some in Connecticut

Maybe We Should Defund the Police

People’s stupidity delights me. It reaffirms my superiority. Just today I was walking down Church Avenue, and there was a pile of clothes blocking the covered entrance to an abandoned building. The clothes evidently belonged to a homeless person. During the day the homeless leave their clothes in front of the vacant buildings where they sleep at night. It’s the equivalent of licking something and saying it’s yours.

It also evinces a cavalier spirit that shakes hands with irresponsibility. Don’t they know anyone could steal their shabby clothes? And this person left a winter coat right on top of the pile. He’s going to need that soon.

Now I believe everyone deserves to be treated with love. Tough love, primarily. So I was thinking – this person would learn a valuable lesson about responsibility if I took that coat. Not for myself. I was going to give it to Goodwill so it could help the needy.

Just as I was reaching for that coat, a police officer came around the corner. She asked me what I was doing. Fortunately, I am a very quick thinker. It’s one of my superpowers. Another is empathy. I told her I was just checking to see if the coat had a pocket, because I was going to leave some money in it. Unfortunately, she waited for me to actually do that. Worse – she stayed there until I walked away. So now this homeless guy probably thinks it’s smart to leave clothes lying around. How will he ever learn anything about responsibility?

Knowgood Carp, Owner of all the Hotels on Block Island and Some in Connecticut

A Tender Heart Prone to Foolishness

If you have been reading my posts (and why wouldn’t you – you seem intelligent), you know I regularly give money to homeless people in downtown Roanoke. This year alone I have handed out a total of $7.00. However, I do much more than give pathetic misfits a dollar. I counsel them, so they can improve their lives. After all, money can’t buy happiness. It can only buy shelter, warmth, food, and medicine.

Today on Church Street, I encountered a filthy homeless man and decided to help. His steel-colored beard was long and wild. His pants and shirt were unfashionable and mismatched. He seemed unable to focus on what I was saying. Regardless, I forged ahead. I told him businesses all over town were hiring. He didn’t need to live like a greasy feral cat. Just as I was getting to the part about picking yourself up by your bootstraps, he turned and got on a rusty bicycle with flat, no-tread tires and rode away as fast as that decrepit thing could carry him.

I smiled at myself in relief. My tender heart is blind and prone to foolishness. I almost gave that charlatan a dollar. As you know, I only give money to homeless people. It’s my motto. Now call me old-fashioned, but I also prefer the homeless to be bikeless. There is just something intrinsically wrong about giving money to someone who has the ways and means of owning a bicycle.

Knowgood Carp, Owner of All the Hotels on Block Island (and Some in Connecticut)

Avoiding Death Through Boredom

I would like to commend the long list of celebrities who have decided to renounce their U.S. citizenship and move to another country because they disagree with recent political developments. They are right to be concerned, but that is not why I want to commend them. They should be commended because none of them actually do it. They get all the benefits of appearing virtuous without any of the burdens. It’s brilliant.

I, too, am rich and famous. It’s awesome. I recommend it to everyone. The United States, quite simply, is the best country in the world – if you are rich and famous.

Being rich and famous allows me the time and luxury of being outraged on behalf of other people – particularly those poor things who have no time or luxury. It allows me to exercise the greatest privilege of all: virtue signaling without any accountability.

So I, too, hereby join the long list of celebrities who say they are renouncing their U.S. citizenship and moving to a more virtuous country. And just like them, I will stay put (in my Greenwich mansion overlooking Long Island Sound where I can do anything I want because I am rich and famous). After all, I’m not stupid. Just try finding a virtuous country that isn’t deadly boring.

Knowgood Carp, Owner of all the Hotels on Block Island (and Some in Connecticut).