We shall not see their like again

From Audie Murphy to Pajama Boy.

Growing up with a father, uncles, and cousins who struggled to maintain our California farm during the Depression and then fought in an existential war was a constant immersion in their predominantly tragic view of life. Most were chain smokers, ate and drank too much, drove too fast, avoided doctors, and were often impulsive—as if in their fifties and sixties, they were still prepping for another amphibious assault or day-time run over the Third Reich. Though they viewed human nature with suspicion, they were nonetheless upbeat—their Homeric optimism empowered by an acceptance of a man’s limitations during his brief and often tragic life. Time was short; but heroism was eternal. “Of course you can” was their stock reply to any hint of uncertainty about a decision. The World War II generation had little patience with subtlety, or even the suggestion of indecision—how could it when such things would have gotten them killed at Monte Cassino or stalking a Japanese convoy under the Pacific in a submarine?

One lesson of the war on my father’s generation was that dramatic action was always preferable to incrementalism, even if that meant that the postwar “best and brightest” would sometimes plunge into unwise policies at home or misadventures abroad. Another lesson the World War II generation learned—a lesson now almost forgotten—was that perseverance and its twin courage were the most important of all collective virtues. What was worse than a bad war was losing it. And given their sometimes tragic view of human nature, the Old Breed believed that winning changed a lot of minds, as if the policy itself was not as important as the appreciation that it was working.

In reaction to the stubborn certainty of our fathers, we of the Baby Boomer generation prided ourselves on introspection, questioning authority, and nuance. We certainly saw doubt and uncertainty as virtues rather than vices—but not necessarily because we saw these traits as correctives to the excesses of the GIs. Rather, as one follows the trajectory of my generation, whose members are now in their sixties and seventies, it is difficult not to conclude that we were contemplative and critical mostly because we could be—our mindset being the product of a far safer, more prosperous, and leisured society that did not face the existential challenges of those who bequeathed such bounty to us. Had the veterans of Henry Kaiser’s shipyards been in charge of California’s high-speed rail project, they would have built on time and on budget, rather than endlessly litigating various issues as costs soared in pursuit of a mythical perfection.

The logical conclusion of our cohort’s emphasis on “finding oneself” and discovering an “inner self” is the now iconic ad of a young man in pajamas sipping hot chocolate while contemplating signing up for government health insurance. Such, it seems, is the arrested millennial mindset. The man-child ad is just 70 years removed from the eighteen-year-olds who fought and died on Guadalcanal and above Schweinfurt, but that disconnect now seems like an abyss over centuries. One cannot loiter one’s mornings away when there is a plane to fly or a tank to build. I am not sure that presidents Franklin Roosevelt, Harry Truman, and Dwight Eisenhower were always better men than were presidents Bill Clinton, Barack Obama, and Donald Trump, but they were certainly bigger in the challenges they faced and the spirit in which they met them.

This New Year’s Eve, let us give a toast to the millions who are no longer with us and the thousands who will soon depart this earth. They gave us a world far better than they inherited.

How painfully ironic, then, that their unappreciative heirs should turn out to be the weak, soft, whiny little pissants they are, with each successive generation more contemptible than the one before it.

Crash and burn

Every time I see the “get woke go broke” shibboleth it annoys the living crap out of me, since to my knowledge there hasn’t been a single “woke” corporation that did anything but go right on thriving in the wake of boycotts, protests, and the like. At worst, they may take a temporary bottom-line hit in the early stages of whatever controversy crops up. But as time passes, tempers cool, attention wanes, and people resume their previous shopping habits, the wayward company or organization always seems to bounce back rather quickly.

Fingers and toes crossed for Faux “News” proving to be the exception.

Fox News is taking action to stave off newfound competition from Newsmax TV.

Producers on some Fox programs have been told to monitor Newsmax’s guest bookings and throw some sand in Newsmax’s gears by encouraging guests who appear on both channels to stop saying yes to the upstart.

According to Fox sources, producers were told to avoid some regular guests if they kept showing up on Newsmax after being encouraged to stop. Management’s goal: to remind guests who’s boss in the right-wing media world.

The cautionary note, from Ace.

CNN link. I wouldn’t click. This article is by CNN’s Chief Deplatforming Officer Tater, with additional reporting by their Senior Deplatforming Associate Oliver Darcy. It claims that all of Newsmax’s gains are due to “conspiracy theories,” because, of course.

Anything Tater doesn’t like is a “conspiracy theory.”

Except Russia Collusion, of course!

Fox News denies this. But they’re lying.

Of course they are. Despite the previous “get woke go broke” record of futility, though, there could be real hope for a spectacular augering-in this time around. I mean, think about it: does anybody really NEED another CNNBCBABPBS?

Do not obey illegal edicts

rockwell_thanksgiving-web-2.jpg

You know the long-gathering storm is just about to break when as innocuous and purely American a tradition as Thanksgiving dinner has become an act of defiance and rebellion. Please note also that no one in Rockwell’s classic painting is wearing a face-diaper. Thomas Jefferson wouldn’t have worn one, either.

Update! A last Thanksgiving thought: while listening to the local classical-music station yesterday and today, there were the usual continual references to “giving thanks” and “expressing gratitude” and such-like shopworn homilies. Just par for the course on Thanksgiving weekend, naturally. Then it struck me: the radio personalities all being standard-issue, Mark-1 Mod-0 shitlibs, to Whom exactly might they be so piously urging one and all to “give thanks,” anyway?

I mean, being shitlibs, one can safely assume that they’re all standard-issue, Mark-1 Mod-0 atheists as well, no? A reflexive hostility towards Christianity and/or Orthodox Judaism is one of the identifying traits of their species, bred into the bone for these characters. Radical Islam is okay, of course. Maybe some bizarre, obscure offshoot of Buddhism. A self-righteous nod towards “spirituality,” the more nebulous and unspecific the better, will get you by in some quarters.

Whatevs. Yeah, give thanks, everybody, and for your many blessings be humbly grateful. To, say, your sister’s cat’s grandmother, I suppose. Or your “transgender” LGBTQXZFHMBK “husband,” who is currently great with y’all’s very first (non-binary) child.

The good word from a good cop

Resist unlawful edicts.

I work as a patrol officer in a suburb of a major U.S. metropolitan area, so I know that no good cop is interested in enforcing tyrannical and unending lockdown orders from state and local executives. Some police departments are openly declaring they won’t enforce these orders, and plenty more of this is happening quietly behind the scenes.

In many localities, law enforcement is doing little to enforce often unconstitutional edicts from governors amid the country seemingly hating cops. Yes, the horror stories make the news, and there are too many of these. A woman was arrested at an outdoor event and tased for not wearing a mask—for being outside in the fresh air. A man was forced off a bus in Philadelphia. Two homeless men were arrested for not wearing masks in Nashville.

Yet of course you never hear about cops slowly going to an alleged mask violation so the person can leave. It doesn’t make the news, but I can tell you it happens—a lot.

While typical calls slowed under lockdowns, with governors’ executive orders came an increase in a different type of call: The executive order violation. The pandemic increased the social and police power of the busybody, and executive power now empowered tattletales and nosy people. As cops dealing with more serious issues daily, we knew complaints about people not wearing masks properly were a complete waste of our time and public resources.

I remember going for a call complaining about six people standing on a suburban street corner talking to each other not “social distancing.” I drove by waving and when I came back the culprits were gone.

While typical calls slowed under lockdowns, with governors’ executive orders came an increase in a different type of call: The executive order violation. The pandemic increased the social and police power of the busybody, and executive power now empowered tattletales and nosy people. As cops dealing with more serious issues daily, we knew complaints about people not wearing masks properly were a complete waste of our time and public resources.

Local playgrounds were closed and skate parks were chained and locked. Skateboarders decided to do something about that. The skateboarders presumably cut a hole in the fence and entered the outdoor skate park.

An older gentleman walked over to me, as I was near this skate park at the time. He politely told me there were people in the skate park and the skate park was closed. I had my required face covering on, but he must have seen half the expression on my face. He paused and said, “I guess I’m being a rat, huh?” My reply: “You said it, sir.”

Good on ya, Officer; no matter how many like you there are out there, we’ll never have near enough. Unsurprisingly, given his obvious common sense and humane perspective, the man knows where the bigger problem lies.

Yes, governors, mayors, and executives give orders. The rank and file police officer is the one tasked with enforcing them. What you have to worry about is the police chief and commanders requiring arrests and statistics. You have to worry about the busybody with connections to someone in power.

And we have to worry about the meddlesome bluenoses among the citizenry even more—people eager to drop a dime on their neighbors, just for the shivery thrill of quasi-carnal ecstasy they get from the ability to exert control over their fellows, if at one remove from real authority. Tapeworms like those are the scourge of life in modern America, as far as I’m concerned. Their total disdain for the basic right to simply be left alone defines them as the most un-American of Americans, the very people the Founders warned their posterity about.

Uprising update! More good cops, in the most unexpected of locales.

Sheriffs in five Southern California counties with a total population of 17.25 million people — equivalent to the fifth most populous state — are defying that state’s governor. They will not arrest people for violating the statewide curfew that Governor Gavin Newsom has imposed starting today, apparently on the belief that the virus wakes up and goes out at 10 P.M.

According to Bill Melugin of Fox 11 in LA, EVERY sheriff in their SoCal viewing area except the LA Sheriff’s Dept itself, has officially refused to enforce Newsom’s draconian and illegal edict, and even the LASD says they will not be making any arrests for noncompliance. Nor is it just the sheriffs who are standing upright to do the right thing; Ontario and Laguna Beach city PDs will not “actively enforce” the Imperial decree as well. And the movement is spreading north as well.

Other sheriffs in Northern California, including Sacramento County, where the governor now lives, are also refusing to enforce the curfew.

As well they oughta be. I mean, come on: We’re seriously discussing a fucking MANDATORY CURFEW now? In what’s ostensibly America?!?

God help us.

NYC gets the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree it voted for

Good. And. Hard.


What with the above sorry spectacle, plus THEVIRUSTHEVIRUSTHEVIRUS!!! skulking about to deepen the whole disaster, it adds up to a real haymaker of a holiday punch. I’m afraid there’s only option remaining now.



No Rudolph on the horizon to pull our chestnuts out of the fire this time, sad to say. Hey, better luck next year, kiddies. Not to worry; I’m SURE “president” Biden will be able to put things right for 2021.

Are we not men?

We are Devo.

Somehow, being Cool blew up in America’s face. Cool became cringe, and cringe is everywhere you look.

That goes hand in hand with the Land Of The Free having slowly become the Home Of The Cowed—a sad, sorry transition that had the cherry put on top of it this past summer.

Legend, or CIA-funded propaganda, tells us the exact moment that Nikita Khrushchev knew the USSR was finished. It was 1959, and the Soviet premier was jetting out from LA as the sun dropped into the Pacific. Window-adjacent, thousands of feet up, Niki looked down, and there it was: American superabundance. Villa after villa after villa, each with its backyard swimming pool and its own gleaming Chevrolet Bel Air convertible, rolling into a cavernous garage. Our comrade was flattened — how many five-year plans would it take to have comforts like this? Game over, man.

On the margins of this civilization which Khrushchev envied, a diffuse set of heretics, misfits, pariahs, outcasts and hipsters of all ethnicities invented American Cool. Embryonic in the Jazz Age, clumsily developed by the Beats, accidentally incarnate in Elvis and studiously incarnate in Miles Davis, Cool was everywhere, even official, by the early years of the Sixties. It was an ironic attitude, a nonchalant pose, a controlled pout. Largely but not solely a male attribute, Cool was the armor plate worn by JFK and Steve McQueen, Roy Lichtenstein and Andy Warhol, Sidney Poitier and Saul Bellow. By the end of the decade it was seethingly and suddenly teenaged. Cool went mad. Waiting for a rain of hydrogen bombs to close the human era, terrified by the Draft, the privileged children of that American super-abundance embraced sex, drugs, rock and rebellion.

The baby boomers’ struggle against all received wisdom summoned Godzilla-strength antagonists like John Wayne, William F. Buckley and Allan Bloom, each with his own charisma to burn. Depth, cosmic ambition, danger, juice, rigor — American culture was fulfilling its promise. ‘Let us boldly condemn all imitation,’ Herman Melville wrote in 1850, ‘and foster all originality.’ Well, here it was at last. The whole world, as the radicals of the time liked to say, was watching.

America’s cultural machinery jammed in the late Sixties. In the decades that followed, Cool burned itself out in the Culture Wars. This agonizing and often illusory conflict is many things. Cool is not one of them. Before it sprouted liver spots, the Culture War was at least capable of the odd vital explosion. Witness Town Bloody Hall (1979): witness Norman Mailer (in 1971), fresh from writing an essay on the sex war he described as ‘the most important single intellectual event of the last four years’, as he bluffs, batters, bristles and flirts his way through an electric two-hour debate with hardcore gynocrats Germaine Greer, Diana Trilling, Susan Sontag and Jill Johnston. ‘You are all singularly without wit,’ Mailer snarls, while the libbers hiss. It’s pure theater. The sexual chemistry between Mailer and Greer could have powered USS Gerald R. Ford.

How does the sex war play out today? Agonizingly, like all Culture War battles. Take Cardi B and her porno-rap single ‘WAP’ (the initials stand for ‘Wet-Ass Pussy’). Released in August, it rapidly became the most streamed and most watched single in Billboard 100 history. Miss B, who is shaped like five Hindenburgs stuffed into a fat suit, was the focus of much try-hard celebratory commentary by the femo-hacks who staff so many of our Republic’s prestige publications. Who would defend virtue, propriety and what Roman rapper Cicero called the summum bonum against this delirious filth?

Ben Shapiro, knight-at-arms, that’s who. Seeing the opportunity to start yet another pointless moral fracas, Shapiro devoted a fussy podcast segment to Ms B’s lyrics, which range from the drolly risqué to the uncomfortably gynecological. Shapiro, whose wife is a doctor, suggested that Ms B and her fellow lyricist Megan Thee Stallion bragging about requiring ‘bucket and mop’ for their ‘pussies’ suggested they required urgent medical attention. Ho, ho, ho! Gleefully, thousands upon thousands of Twitter accounts then suggested that Shapiro had never aroused any women, anywhere, poor Mrs Shapiro included.

There was, unfortunately, more. A few weeks later, Ms B, whose entire shtick is boasting about her sexual prowess, was humiliated in turn by the public collapse of her marriage to the rapper Offset. It seemed he’d been bucket-and-mopping behind her back for years. By the end, every participant in this toe-curling saga was diminished, smaller than before. That’s the Culture of Cringe in miniature.

Inexplicably, in a sprawling examination of America’s long-dominant Culture Of Cool and its reduction to nothing but a limp, wispy caricature of its former robust self, the author fails to mention Frank Sinatra even one time. Notwithstanding that bizarre omission, it’s still a pretty interesting read if you’re into that sort of thing. Which, we probably ALL ought to be a lot more “into that sort of thing” than we have been to date, given the demonstration we’re witnessing even now of just how critical the Culture Wars can be when it comes to the overall fate of the nation.

Oath-takers, oath-breakers

Crossing the line.

It was all spelled out in black and white, available for all to see, and had been since before I was born. The future was to be a borderless world in which people, money, goods, and services moved unfettered under the custody of an international class of credentialed technocrats, and the United States was to be its prophet. Globalism wasn’t a conspiracy; it was the consensus. It was institutionalized. It was the ethos of those who shaped and implemented policy, whether they be entrenched in academia, business and finance, or government and its bureaucracy, “and if you didn’t like it, you better learn to love it” as the poet said.

With the 2016 election, I was floored to find a candidate running for office who dared to call it by name. America was being betrayed by corrupt and incompetent leaders and looted by scavengers, and by God, that was gonna change. There was to be an end to open-ended wars abroad with vague objectives. American policy, whether on economics or immigration, would be fashioned to benefit actual Americans rather than the nebulous false god of Humanity at large. Whether he was sincere or if he’d make good or not was almost irrelevant. It was worth voting for him, if for no other reason than to put a shot across the bow of globalists.

The years since then have been a parade of funhouse mirrors with one grotesque caricature or farce after another portrayed to us by a hostile media driven mad with their diminishing loss of control over the proles. The usual suspects trot out their “experts” and act out an almost vaudeville routine to try and seduce the world with what we later discover to be half-truths if not outright lies. 

What has happened with this year’s election, however, is beyond the pale.

In their obsession to oust the orange monster in their minds, the aspiring global managerial class has crossed a line and this demands a response.

When we enter the service, we swear an oath to “defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies both foreign and domestic.” What does that mean though when the majority of those on the other side of that oath see it merely as a means to manipulate your sense of honor or love of country? What does it mean when that constitution no longer describes the way power really works in America now, or fails to address the international networks of patronage that truly dictate policy today? How do concepts like treason even apply when almost the entire political class (and especially those who teach them) ceased to believe in nations long ago and have elected instead to offer up what remains on the altar of a utopia that will never come?

We have been betrayed and it’s time to stop tolerating it.

It still shocks me, although I know it shouldn’t, that the overwhelming majority of national elected officeholders swear the same oath to uphold and defend the Constitution as soldiers and cops do, with no intention whatsoever of upholding it—as if such oaths were without meaning or weight, just an outdated dumbshow undergone before being authorized to wield levels of power that, were they men with integrity enough to honor the solemn oaths they swear to, would not even exist at all.

Thereby proving yet again that the “people” we elect are in truth the very last ones on earth a self-respecting citizenry would want governing them.

Publick Notice

I’m gonna ahead and work on getting good ol’ Scrooge Picard up and running, while I have a free minute here. Expect weirdness, that’s all I’m sayin’, for a little bit anyway.

Yeah, the old boy is visiting us early this year, but what the hell; I like him, and I think we could all use a little Christmas cheer at this stage. Just think of it as my own upraised middle finger in the direction of our goosestepping dimestore dictators and their sick little holiday clampdown attempt.



New merch update

Barry mentioned in comments that he wasn’t all that enamored with black tee’s, which mystifying, irrational bigotry I will never pretend to comprehend. But as well as continuing the work on several other designs, I’m gonna do a version of the “Revolt” image that’s suitable for display on a lighter-colored shirt as well just in case anyone else out there shares Barry’s ugly prejudice. I’ll keep ya posted, natch.

I do so love a woman with spunk

Looks like the theme for tonight’s posting is gonna be “unity.”

Independent journalist Megyn Kelly knocked Democratic presidential candidate Joe Biden and other left-wingers over Biden’s calls for “unity” after “viciously” attacking President Donald Trump and his supporters for four years.

Kelly first mocked a tweet from Biden’s account calling for a nation “united,” “strengthened,” and “healed.”

“Written like a man who’s been in his basement for a year,” Kelly said.

Her quip brought numerous Biden defenders into her replies, criticizing her for mocking Biden’s call to unity. Kelly refused to back down, however, and pointed out that Biden’s message is disingenuous considering the vitriol and hate that has been directed toward Trump every year of his presidency as well as the tens of millions of Americans that voted for him.

“Half of the country has been demonized as awful for four years just for supporting their president who was falsely accused of Russian collaboration, wrongly impeached & attacked relentlessly by the [left] & a dishonest media. And now it’s ‘let’s heal!’ ‘Unity!’ Good luck,” Kelly responded to University of Chicago economist Austan Goolsbee.

Biting as those ripostes were, they’re mild stuff indeed compared to what Megyn had waiting in her bandoleer for them. Don’t know quite what’s going on with that girl of late. But after her early tussle with Trump, bringing on the disastrous personal consequences that typically befall those who have committed a similar miscalculation, she’s surely been in fine form since. She’s demonstrated some serious mettle, skillfully wielded, and I have to say I’m digging the show. So I’ll just offer Ms Kelly a hearty “You GO, girl!” while I sit back in eager anticipation of more.

Silver lining found!

At least the Benedict Arnolds at Faux News are suffering for their treachery.

Internal Fox News Numbers Reveal Catastrophic Viewership Collapse

FOLLOWING FOX NEWS PREMATURELY CALLING THE PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION IN FAVOR OF JOE BIDEN, THE NETWORK’S RATINGS HAVE PLUMMETED TO NEVER BEFORE SEEN LEVELS BELOW CNN AND MSNBC.

Too bad, so sad. Couldn’t happen to a nicer bunch of assholes.

Last Friday’s ratings for the supposedly “conservative” outlet were less than both CNN and MSNBC for the first time in years, according to an internal Fox document containing viewership analytics.

The numbers show that on November 6th, Fox pulled 2,266,000 viewers while CNN saw nearly twice as many at 4,009,000 viewers. Similarly, MSNBC, per Fox’s internal numbers, counted 2,983,000 viewers, beating Fox by over 700,000 viewers.

This, mind, after having been the overwhelming ratings champ for years now. Savor the deliciousness in my boldface below:

The Fox News Channel crashed in ratings on Saturday, coming in a distant third place to leader CNN and second place MSNBC. In the week before Tuesday’s election Fox News averaged more than double the viewership of CNN and MSNBC.

Fox viewers have been in revolt since election night when the cable network called states early for Joe Biden while holding off calling states for President Trump.

Ace twists the knife.

The liberal Murdoch boys and their liberal socialite useless wives have decided to reposition Fox as a leftwing channel.

They think they can keep most of their unfashionable, racist current audience — we’re too stupid and sheeplike to object or change our habits! — while making more money, as they get more advertising revenue from left-leaning megacorporations, and Google starts allowing their articles to appear on the first page of search results.

The plan depends on “keeping most of their unfashionable, racist current audience,” plus picking up some liberals. Liberals who apparently want CNN-style liberalism but with Shrieking Eagle graphics and country music in the bumpers.

In other words: They want to keep the current audience by giving the current audience what it does not want, and attract a Phantom Audience of leftwingers who want their CNN-style leftwing bias with a Fox News branding, for some reason.

The plan depends on whether we’re stupid and sheeplike enough to continue watching them even while they stab us in the back.

Early indicators say: We’re not that stupid and sheeplike.

The self-immolation of Faux News may not feel like all that much of a victory after a long, dreary week of catastrophic defeats. But it IS a victory nonetheless, and I’ll take it.

Thrilla in Ma…Phila?

You gotta love this.

Joe Frazier voted this year in Pennsylvania.

Frazier is a former heavyweight boxing champion.

Joe Frazier has been dead since 2011.

He was registered to vote in New Jersey.

It’s like they’re barely even trying at this point.

“The study of history is a powerful antidote to contemporary arrogance”

I never heard before of the guy who coined my title quote, I must confess. From the sound of it, it appears I’ve been missing out on something wonderful.

Paul Johnson will be 90 on November 2nd. He is one of the most prolific British writers of the last half-century and a superb chronicler of the past. He deserves the honors and plaudits coming his way as he crosses the threshold of his tenth decade.

Johnson’s perspective is often described as “conservative,” but I find his work simply good, factual reporting of history, unvarnished by ideology. He doesn’t cherry-pick the evidence to support a preconception, let alone a misconception. Conventional wisdom (which is to say, “left-leaning”) suggests you’re “mainstream” and “objective” if you claim with the flimsiest of documentation that Franklin Roosevelt saved America from the Great Depression and that you’re a “conservative ideologue” if you just report the facts. Johnson reports the facts, so he gets the label his “progressive” critics hope will deter readers rather than enlighten them.

In his early days, Johnson’s political outlook was, by his own admission, leftist or “progressive.” But this is a man who not only writes history, he learns from it. The more Johnson learned, the less credible the progressive perspective was. By the mid-1970s, he was a cogent critic of the Left and its union allies, who were bringing Britain to its knees. He later became a friend, advisor, and speechwriter to Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher.

Johnson is himself a consummate intellectual, the honest and scholarly kind committed to truth for the sake of it—unlike the charlatans, hypocrites, and monsters he writes about. He proves that you can be an intellectual without falling hopelessly in love with yourself, tossing self-awareness to the wind, or fancying yourself God’s gift to a stupid humanity in need of your wisdom. Of the more delusional ones, he offers a cogent insight:

What conclusions should be drawn? Readers will judge for themselves. But I think I detect today a certain public skepticism when intellectuals stand up to preach to us, a growing tendency among ordinary people to dispute the right of academics, writers and philosophers, eminent though they may be, to tell us how to behave and conduct our affairs. The belief seems to be spreading that intellectuals are no wiser as mentors, or worthier as exemplars, than the witch doctors or priests of old. I share that skepticism. A dozen people picked at random on the street are at least as likely to offer sensible views on moral and political matters as a cross-section of the intelligentsia. But I would go further. One of the principal lessons of our tragic century, which has seen so many millions of innocent lives sacrificed in schemes to improve the lot of humanity, is—beware intellectuals. Not merely should they be kept away from the levers of power, they should also be objects of particular suspicion when they seek to offer collective advice.

Heady stuff for sure. But now we get to the part I most wanted to excerpt.

None of Johnson’s subjects can match Karl Marx for sheer loathsomeness and shameless fakery. He was a virulent racist and anti-Semite with a vicious temper (“Jewish n****r” was one of his favorite epithets). On a good day, he enjoyed threatening those who disagreed with him by blurting, “I will annihilate you!” His personal hygiene was, well, suffice it to say he had none. He was heartlessly cruel to his family and anyone who crossed him. This is the same man who postured as a thinker whose ideas would save humanity.

We learn in (Johnson’s book) Intellectuals that the chef who cooked up communism professed to be “scientific.” In reality, Johnson argues, “there was nothing scientific about him; indeed, in all that matters he was anti-scientific.” His most famous lines—including “religion is the opiate of the masses” and workers “have nothing to lose but their chains”—were flagrantly ripped off from other authors. He “never set foot in a mill, factory, mine or other industrial workplace in the whole of his life,” steadfastly abjured invitations to do so, and denounced fellow revolutionaries who did. He never let a fact or a glimmer of reality stem the flow of poison from his pen. He had no money because he refused to work for it, then cursed those who had it and didn’t share it with him. His own mother said she wished her son “would accumulate some capital instead of just writing about it.”

Johnson’s lancing of the suppurating boil on the ass of humankind that was Karl Marx is appropriately merciless, and, as Reed says, “that’s for starters.” Read all of it. As mentioned in the article, Johnson also has a website which looks to be chock-full of more rich buttery goodness (“from 1971 onwards,” according to the archive page), which I’m definitely bookmarking for further perusal as and when I get the op’ratunity.

(Via Insty)

Texas tale

Ironbear posted this in the comments, and it’s just too dang good a story not to bring it right out front.

Texas Beer Joint Sues Church In Mt. Vernon , Texas
Drummond’s Bar began construction on expansion of their building to increase their business. In response, the local Baptist (church) started a campaign to block the bar from expanding with petitions and prayers. Work progressed right up until the week before the grand reopening when lightning struck the bar and it burned to the ground! 

After the bar burning to the ground by the lightning strike, the church folks were rather smug in their outlook, bragging about the power of prayer, until the bar owner sued the church on the grounds that the church was ultimately responsible for the demise of his building, either through direct or indirect actions or means.

In its reply to the court, the church vehemently denied all responsibility or any connection to the building’s demise.

The judge read through the plaintiff’s complaint and  the defendant’s reply, and at the opening hearing he commented…

“I  don’t know how I’m going to decide this, but it appears from the paperwork that we have a bar owner who  believes in the power of prayer, and an entire church congregation that now does not.” 

As the ‘Bear says, it’s that last line from Da Judge that really makes it sing.

Thanks

An open letter to Trump, from Sundance.

Thank you President Donald Trump, today I voted for you.

Thank you for providing me, us, my friends and family, an opportunity to vote for a person who relentlessly and tirelessly has worked for all of us.

Thank you (for) putting on that bullet-proof vest, working and campaigning on behalf of all Americans.

Thank you to First Lady Melania Trump for giving up the privacy of a very comfortable life to support you, help us, and represent our nation with class and impeccable distinction.

Long ago we accepted the geography of this battle. We knew the campaign and presidency was going to get ugly on many levels. You knew it too – yet, you did it anyway.

You have confronted a body of globalist political elites both at home and abroad. We know there are trillions of dollars at stake, and significant power over world events hanging in the balance. We knew you would be attacked. You knew it too – yet, you did it anyway.

As a nation we are not disconnected from fully comprehending the issues at hand. Most are fully aware of the fraud, scheme, manipulative lying and corrupt propaganda inbound from every entity who holds a vested interest in your elimination.

You knew that too – yet, you stepped-up anyway.

We fully understand the scope of media hatred perpetuating a fraud which is occurring on a grand scale. We are well versed in the machinations and schemes of the interests you have faced. We are aware and clear eyed to the hate expressed by your opposition. You knew that would come too – yet, you did it anyway.

We refined our understanding based on prior years of confrontation; essentially training ourselves amid the various battlefields controlled by the very powers established to see your removal. The swamp is vile. You knew that – yet, you did it anyway.

And should Trump somehow lose this thing, it will establish clearly that not merely an election but America That Was itself is indeed lost. In fact, it’s probably been gone for a good bit longer than some of us may have realized. Not that that realization, painful as it is, calls for a lapse into despair, mind. But it DOES strongly suggest the necessity of a redirection, a course correction, in terms of vision, ambition, and action.

In the end, no matter which way the election goes, it still comes down to the same thing. Really, it probably always will.

trump_inthe_way_meme.jpg

Yep. And apres Trump, le deluge.

Just wondering

SO: any bets on which of the so-called “major” TeeWee networks will call it for Biden around, say, 8 PM or thereabouts—before some polling places are even closed, in other words—as yet another ludicrously transparent tactic aimed at suppressing Republican voter turnout? Or, perhaps, will they ALL do it?

I’ll just use this as my all-purpose election-night thread, and update accordingly as, when, and if I have more to say. Which, I may very well not; unless we get a tremendous Trumpslide, a shellacking of truly historic proportions, I figger there isn’t going to be a final verdict for weeks, if not a couple of months, even. We shall see what we shall we see.

Update the First! Okay, just a personal anecdote for y’all here; doesn’t necessarily mean anything, take it for what it’s worth, ‘kay?

Whilst driving around Belmont/Mt Holly bootlessly trying to make a buck right before sunset yesterday, I noticed a simply unheard-of volume of traffic coming west out of (c)Harlotte. Basically, there are three main arteries providing a direct route into Gaston County from MecklenTurd: I-85, Wilkinson Blvd, and Freedom Drive/Highway 27. I am no way no how kidding about this, people: as bad as traffic heading our way can often be, this was something else altogether. I’ve never seen anything like it, and I’ve seen plenty over the years.

I happened to be on or around all three of those main arteries, and they were all nightmarish. If I had to pick a prize-winner, I’d say Hwy 27 was the champ. Only two lanes most of the way, with a solidly-packed mass of idling vehicles that stretched from Mt Holly-Huntersville Rd (which 27 dead-ends into, on the CLT side of the river just outside of Mt Holly) all the way back well into Paw Creek, a place that’s always been referred to hereabouts as Tank Town (so-called because of the huge fuel tanks at the various gas-and-oil depots located there). Not sure exactly what that stretch of road might amount to mileage-wise—call it, say, eight or ten miles, maybe? Anyways, the line was every bit of three-four times longer than it would normally be, possibly more.

Then it occurred to me: Charlotte was basically emptying out. The urban rats were fleeing their thoroughly-fouled nest for somewhere—ANYWHERE—else, most likely in dread of the predicted election-night rioting and violence to be visited upon kind, loving Biden voters by hordes of white supremacists, Nazis, Kluxers, and those gnarly and ubiquitous Right Wing Militia types. Put-upon Charlotteans, worn down already by the summer-long Black Lies Murder festitivies downtown—however mild those doings had been in comparison to other Democrat-Socialist bastions—were voting with their feet at last, heading for the hills with utmost alacrity.

Naturally, I could very well be all wet with that little guess. Probably am, at that. But I happened to be in and around Charlotte earlier today also, and I tells ya, the place was a fucking ghost town. Traffic was incredibly light everywhere I went, more so than I’ve seen in years and years of making deliveries and driving trucks all over the place. Pedestrian, scooter, and bicycle traffic was simply non-existent. The only things missing from the scene were tumbleweeds blowing by, and a spooky Ennio Morricone soundtrack for what the pros call incidental music.

So I dunno, make of all that what you will. It may well NOT have been a desperate, last-ditch attempt to avoid having some Mostly Peaceful™ violence rained down upon their heads, right enough. Could be any number of unknown explanations for the mass exodus I saw. But whatever the backstory, Charlotteans en masse were damned sure getting the hell out of Dodge yesterday. And as of late this afternoon, they hadn’t come back yet.

Update the Second! Another one of those times when I’m just gonna have to break my No Twitter vow.



They MUST be held accountable for what they’ve done. Because what they’ve done—Enemedia, the Democrat-Socialist Party, the Deep State conspirators, and the whole degenerate-Left freak show—is to wantonly destroy a proud two and a half centuries-long tradition upholding the peaceful transition of power, essentially devolving the US into a third-world nation.

Merchants and other storefronts across the country are boarding up windows in anticipation of a highly polarized Election Day, according to reports.

Reports of businesses taking action have emerged in Boston, Washington DC,  St. Louis, San Francisco and other large cities.

In the Los Angeles area, the city of Beverly Hills has already declared its Rodeo Drive shopping area will be on lockdown for two days starting on Election Day. Reports from various sources say merchants on Sunset Boulevard and La Brea Avenue are also preparing their businesses in anticipation of trouble.

Kruiser notes a puzzling coinkydink:

None of those cities are known for their thriving right-wing militia communities. All are, however, familiar with Black Lives Matter and antifa “peaceful” protests.

Virtually every city named (there were more) in this article is overwhelmingly Democrat and has been run by Democrats for years. Elected Democrats spent the summer falling all over themselves to show solidarity with protests that, despite the mainstream media fable-spinning, usually turned violent. The belated, half-hearted “condemnations” that were issued months into the rioting rang hollow. The miscreants had already been emboldened by their elders.

Fascist violence is always blamed on the Right but perpetrated by the Left, to modify an old phrase.

Update the Fourth! Not to imply that the presidential race isn’t of primary importance or anything, but the Senate outcome could end up mattering every bit as much.

Democrats expect that they can win the U.S. Senate, taking the majority from Republicans. The Senate currently has 53 Republican senators and 45 Democratic senators, with two independents who caucus with Democrats. Thirty-five seats are up for grabs.

And more of those contested seats were held by Repubs than Dems: 23 being defended by the ‘Pubbies, 12 by the Demoscum, with 14 of the total “considered competitive,” according to Bloomberg anyway.

So what, you say? Well, grok ye this, brothers and sisters, and grok it fully: if the Demonrats DO flip the Senate and hold onto the House as well, be assured that impeachment proceedings will begin in the House the moment the final syllable of Trump’s oath of office is uttered. Only this go-round, the Demonrat Senate will have the votes to convict and remove him from office.

Don’t any of you kid yourselves that they wouldn’t dare to make such a raw, outrageous move, however ramshackle a pretext they’d need to cobble together to get the dirty deed done. Just…don’t, awright? Because we all know by now that as soon as they think they can, they most certainly will, and right straight to Hell with trivial considerations like ethics; probity; the faith and trust of the American people in their institutions and leaders; the stability of said institutions; whether such a nakedly obvious power play complies in even the smallest conceivable way with Constitional requirements, and etc.

And while y’all are over there trying to convince yourselves that Democrat scumwads will be restrained by the teeniest, tiniest smidgeon of shame, conscience, or basic decency from actually following through on such heinous effrontery, they’ll be busy having Trump frogmarched out of the Oval Office in irons, and working out a scheme to oust Pence in similar fashion most ricky-tick. Meanwhile, Peelousy will be in her chambers rehearsing the oath of office herself, getting all set for the Coronation. Count on it.

Update the Fifth! As of now, it seems sadly apparent that Trump did NOT get the overwhelming victory required to head off an extended vote-finding, manufacturing, and “counting” process, tainted by shenanigans aplenty and shady maneuvering both overt and covert. No, Biden’s “we’re about to go into a dark winter” doomsday prophecy, although no longer easily dismissable as an off-putting joke, is still not an inevitability just yet. But there’s no denying it: difficult as it is to get one’s head around, this thing is way too close for comfort. And unless something changes radically over the next few hours, I don’t see much chance of avoiding a grim, grey autumn.

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