Church militant

I like the cut of this preacher’s jib.

Popular internet pastor tells his Church to “take them stupid masks off’ during Easter service
A popular pastor from Tennessee has stirred some controversy after telling some members of his congregation to “take off their stupid masks” during a service this past Sunday during Easter.

The move came despite federal guidance urging the wearing of masks to control the spread of COVID-19. Locke, who leads the Global Vision Bible Church in Tennessee, reportedly mocked some of his congregants for following that advice “like sheep”.  “Unless you’re under a doctor’s orders — and a few of you are — take them stupid masks off when you come to Global Vision! There, I said it on Easter.”

“Take them stupid masks off,” Locke declared during his Holy Week sermon. “Call me crazy? You come, pull up in the parking lot wearing two masks in a car by yourself. Call me crazy? That’s crack-smoking crazy is what that is.“ Locke, made the statement after reportedly referencing Isaiah 53:6, which says:

“All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way;  and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.” “It’s interesting God calls us that [sheep]. Not much has changed, has it? You remember this time last year? This time last year, they were like, ‘Oh my goodness! You cannot have resurrection service; you will kill everybody.’

‘You are gonna kill everybody within 250 miles.’ We ain’t killed nobody yet, by the way,” the pastor said. “And so the media started infusing us with fear tactics. You see, they know this verse, apparently. They know that people that are ignorant of Scripture willfully will obey any ridiculous mandate that the media gives them because it makes them feel better about themselves.”

Locke then praised Churches like this that stayed open for Easter stating:  “Since we’re a year in, I just want to verifiably say, thanks be to God for other churches that opened, that reopened, and thank God for churches that decided that they weren’t gon’ close at all. They saw through it. We’ve never closed yet.

We’ve never closed one single time during all this COVID debacle,” He goes on to say that it would have taken the entire US military to shut down his Church.  “They will roll up in tanks. They will drop down from helicopters. And I promise you, it won’t be a dozen police out there from Wilson County and from Mt. Juliet,” he declared.

“It’s going to take the entire United States military to roll up into this parking lot and tell us, ‘Hey, we can’t worship Jesus, and that we got to shut our church down, and that we can’t preach, and we can’t pray …’ You have lost your mind if you think I’ve given in to that! You have lost your mind if you think I’m giving into that mess! We are staying open forever! Forever!”

PREACH it, Rev.

Our new National Pastime

I liked the old one a lot better.

By moving the all-star game out of Atlanta, the morally narcissistic ignoramuses who run Major League Baseball have inadvertently given us the defining moment in the ultimate decline and fall of the United States of America as we know it.

Forget the actual details of the Georgia voting law they claim to be protesting. Facts are immaterial. The national pastime has joined the ranks of the “woke” virtue signalers.

Virtue signaling itself has become our national pastime.

Everyone, at least that percentage of the country who voted for the current president, practice it on a daily or even hourly basis, like a catechism.

The president himself we could call the Virtue Signaler-in-Chief. He began his “virtuous” journey in law school where he was almost ejected for plagiarism, begged to stay in, and then later told us he graduated at the top of his class. (He actually graduated at the bottom, as would any plagiarist, if they graduated at all.)

And then there were numerous other “virtuous” cases of plagiarism, including from the British politician Neil Kinnock, but no matter. Our great legal scholar president knows the Georgia election law is wrong. Not only is it wrong, it’s racist.

So he led the charge in moving the game out of Atlanta and essentially gave permission to the league executives to make their reactionary move.

The result, baseball is virtually dead from virtual signaling. Call it murder by idiotic ideology.

But baseball is just a game and America is no such thing. It was once the beacon of all humanity when it came to democracy and freedom but that is no more.

Like any good moral narcissist (i. e. he or she who virtue signals) we are no longer liberty and freedom lovers. We are now “woke.”

“Woke,” however, is not an American idea. Neither were, completely, the Declaration of Independence and the Bill of Rights. To some extent they came from Europe, influenced, as many readers know, by John Locke, among others, but they were developed and enhanced in a uniquely American way by Jefferson, Madison, et al. The Federalist Papers were a flower of the Enlightenment.

Not so “woke.” Its antecedents are entirely European and have little to do with democracy and freedom and everything to do with a kind of neo-Marxist, top-down power game of a fascistic nature.

The American idea and ”woke” are, in essence, opposites.

Well, naturally. With the latter waging an all-but-shooting war (for now) in their perennial campaign to eradicate the former, how could it be otherwise?

Another funny thing those corporate Woketards who are calling for the smelling salts over Georgia’s modest stab at cleaner, less-fraudulent elections would prefer you not to think about: those same MLB suits require one to present…wait for it…WAIT FOR IT…photo ID when picking up one’s tickets at the Will Call window. The Delta Airlines CEO who is also all a-dither over same? Yeah, just you TRY to board a Delta flight without that photo ID, boy-o.

Coca Cola? Meh, fuck ’em in the liver with a rusty railroad spike.

Funny, too, how those high-and-holy corporate Righteously Indignants™ have uttered no (0) peeps as of this writing as to the other Georgia ballgames currently on the schedule—all 82 of ’em.

Boycott Georgia? Hell with that; boycott Major League Baseball, Delta, and Coca Cola, sez I. And on that score, I’m keeping pretty good company.

Gun Club Galz redux

Now THAT’S what I’m talking, brah. Courtesy of commenter Redhawk, who so thoughtfully provided the link for us, bless his generous heart. Muchas gracias, señor Red.

GunClubGalz-2.jpg

I love my wife, but OH! You kid! Or, as the immortal Jimmy Durante would opine: Hotchachacha!! And while we’re on the subject of luscious babes-in-arms, feast your eyes on this more contemporary example:

GunClubGalz-3.jpg

Alas, this one’s backstory will make your pulse pound in a far less agreeable way.

Instagram has removed conservative political commentator Kaitlin Bennett’s iconic graduation photo from three years ago for “violence and incitement.”

Meanwhile, the platform has allowed an endless stream of threats against the right-wing firebrand to continue for years.

Apparently, Instagram believes that photos of you peacefully exercising your Second Amendment right are a crime. In their notification to Bennett, they said “we don’t allow content that may lead to a genuine risk to physical harm or direct threat to public safety.”

Instagram has removed conservative political commentator Kaitlin Bennett’s iconic graduation photo from three years ago for “violence and incitement.”

Meanwhile, the platform has allowed an endless stream of threats against the right-wing firebrand to continue for years.

Apparently, Instagram believes that photos of you peacefully exercising your Second Amendment right are a crime. In their notification to Bennett, they said “we don’t allow content that may lead to a genuine risk to physical harm or direct threat to public safety.”

Right on, babe—”come and take it” indeed. Read the rest for a sampling of the ugly Instagram-approved threats of bodily harm hurled from behind a keyboard in Mommy’s dimly-lit basement at the lovely Miss Bennett for committing the hate-crime of aggregated exercise of her Constitutional rights, along with several counts of embracing said rights as if they were a matter of pride rather than proper shame. Kudos to ya, Kaitlin, and forever may you wave. A single one of you will always be worth more than several legions of your sniveling detractors.

Gun Club Galz

My good friend and fellow musical reprobate Jeremy sends one from the Golden Age:

GunClubGalz.jpg

Whether you’re talking about the guns, the girls, the clothes, or the hairstyles, they just don’t make ’em like that anymore. And that’s too bad, in my opinion. We’ve lost a lot along the road to Progtard Utopia, most of which we’d have been better off holding on to.

Blame it on the dog

A likely story.


With a senile, decrepit old wreck like Cadaver Joe in residence, White House staff shouldn’t be in any rush to wag an accusatory finger at the dogs. One of them may very well be the culprit, sure. But I wouldn’t be willing to put any money on it.

Precocious pup

Another one I’ve had sitting in an open tab for quite a while. Trust me, it was worth the wait.

For the last five years or so, the campus of Colombia’s Diversified Technical Education Institute of Monterrey Casanare has been home to a sweet black dog named Negro. There, he serves as a guardian of sorts, keeping watch over things as students go about their studies.

In return, Negro is cared for by the school’s faculty, who provide him with food, water, attention and a safe place with them to pass the night.

But the dog has apparently decided that anything beyond that is up to him.

Early on in Negro’s tenure at the school, he came to be aware of the little store on campus where students gather to buy things on their breaks; sometimes they’d buy him cookies sold there.

This, evidently, is where the dog first learned about commerce — and decided to try it out himself.

“He would go to the store and watch the children give money and receive something in exchange,” teacher Angela Garcia Bernal told The Dodo. “Then one day, spontaneous, he appeared with a leaf in his mouth, wagging his tail and letting it be known that he wanted a cookie.”

As you might expect, after the dog realized his money literally grows on trees, it’s been a regular thing.

“He comes for cookies every day,” Gladys Barreto, a longtime store attendant, told The Dodo. “He always pays with a leaf. It is his daily purchase.”

From what I read elsewhere, apparently this canine supergenius scores his folding money from the same tree every time, the leaves of which more closely approximate Colombian currency in both color and size than those of other foliage types available to him.

Yes, there are pictures. Heck, there’s even video, and it’s awesome. Just stop calling ’em dumb animals, ‘kay? After all, Negro shows much more capacity for higher cognition and reason than “president” Fingerbang, or almost any other shitlib you could name.

Red Air rising

This is one is as fascinating as it is…well, unusual. WELL off the beaten track, let’s say.

As a young Green Beret, I learned to watch the moon. The Apaches and Comanches and the other able fighters always knew the moon. As do the Taliban. I reckon Pashtun fighters are like modern Apaches but with AK-47s.

There is much to learn from Afghan fighters. Old school. Adhering to principles. Such as patience.

They wait for the right conditions. Including the moon. Six months, a year, or more.

Tracking, being tracked. Shadows confer much advantage in tracking. Fighting from the shadows. Avoiding the tremendous winds and sun of daylight fighting that favor those with longer rifles.

Often they attack in broad daylight but they usually consider the continuum of the light-dark cycle. Pashtun may attack by night and literally go straight to field to harvest without so much as going home to change shoes.

When eclipse of Moon or Sun, Afghans will rush outside to fire rifles into the sky to save the Sun or Moon from Satan. This idea is common the world ‘round. Europeans of past did similar. Ringing church bells, clanging pots and pans, blasting fireworks.

When Taliban attacked our massive base, Camp Bastion, destroying Harrier jets and killing our Marine Commander on the ground, I was away from Afghanistan. But I knew immediately there was no Moon. Taliban make such attacks under what we call “Red Air.”

As for Afghanistan, the Moonless attack on Camp Bastion that destroyed our jets on the ground was an epic study in the incompetence of leadership tasked to guard the base.

If they had studied basic tactics, and our incredibly able if illiterate Taliban enemies — American and British Commanders would have realized they were fighting the equivalent of Apaches or Comanches. Those guys kick ass. They may be the enemy, but we must respect or they will destroy our jets on the ground and shoot the Commander dead. And they did.

A Marine intelligence officer on the base contacted me saying my dispatch was amazingly accurate other than a couple small points, which he did not clarify. Given I did that assessment off the cuff — I figured something had to be wrong — but I know how Taliban operate and knew basically how they pulled it off. I had warned many times about such Taliban tactics.

And tonight I see the moon high over Panama. I am in Panama City. The phase is Waxing Gibbous with 98% illumination. Weather tonight over the Southern border of United States is perfect. I checked for El Paso: A cool 62 Fahrenheit, and clear.

The migrants will be storming the border in high numbers during this moon.

Tomorrow the Moon will be full. If no clouds, your body will cast a shadow on the desert. Go there tomorrow, to the border by Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, California — and watch during the full Moon as huge numbers of people cross into America.

Strange stuff in a lot of ways, but read it all anyway. It’s Michael Yon, who is definitely someone I’d be most hesitant to gainsay.

The Daily Donnybrook

Welcome to Ye Olde Colde Furye Blogge’s shiny new open-comments thread, where y’all can have at it as you wish, on any topic you like. Do note that the official CF comments policy remains in effect here, as enumerated in the left sidebar. All new posts will appear below this one. There will be blood…

Vote Big Dan!

Make America Texas again? Sounds like a plan to me.

Dan Rodimer is a former WWE wrestler who is running for Congress in Texas.

In one of his new ads, he takes aim at Nancy Pelosi and Democrats in Washington, DC and refers to them as ‘commies’ who are ruining America.

If he keeps this up, his chances should be pretty good.

Take my word for it, folks: you do NOT want to miss the campaign video. It’s a real humdinger, that’s what.


The DC article GP links to on the guy is all abrim with rich, buttery Rodimer goodness:

“The commies in D.C. are ruining America,” Rodimer continues. “We have a big problem … I know how to handle Nancy Pelosi and stop her bullsh*t.”

As he steps in a pile of manure, Rodimer says that he will “put a boot right in her socialist platform.”

The congressional candidate slams Democrats for “men in women’s bathrooms, boys in girls’ sports, higher taxes,” and “higher gas prices.”

“They’re building a wall around D.C., but they’re not protecting our borders,” Rodimer adds. “They’re laughing at us.”

Rodimer says that he moved his wife and six children to Texas because he wants to raise his kids in a state that is friendly to the Constitution.

“The communists in D.C. want to shut down our churches, close our businesses, indoctrinate our children, communism in our classrooms, make our daughters unsafe in sports and school, destroy American borders and our American history,” Rodimer continues. “We must stop them.”

Indeed we must, while we still can. Personally, I can’t find anything at all objectionable in any of that, taking it for the both-barrels blast of righteous, double-aught Truth right in the face that it is. Nevertheless, there IS a dark side here, one for which Rodimer can in no way be blamed.

Click on the link embedded in the above Tweet and peruse the responses and you’ll quickly feel the smothering miasma of despair settling over you like fog, as it hits you just how very many shitlibs have already descended on the great Republic of Texas like some Biblical plague, with more almost certain to come. Their peurile, doot-brained attacks on Big Dan are straight out of the Shitlib 101 handbook, quite easily dismissible if one is so inclined to waste time and energy on that futile endeavor, which I ain’t. What’s troubling about it is not that the “arguments” are tough to counter—because actually, they aren’t. It’s that they’re there in the first place, evidence of the dangerous infestation of the very heart of one of freedom’s last, best hopes. If these locusts are allowed to swarm Texas and overcome it, there’ll no longer be any refuge left where Real Americans might escape them.

Ironic as it surely is to note that one of the primary weapons the Twatter Libtards try to wield against Big Dan is the “carpetbagger” canard—which bothered them not in the slightest when HILLARY!™ glommed a NY address solely to enable the drunken megalomaniac to slither her way into the legislature—true-blue Texans shouldn’t let any of it dissuade them from supporting Dan Rodimer without reservation come election day. Not only is the future of the Republic at stake, it would also amount to a bodacious middle-finger salute directed at a whole passel of wretched, snotnosed twerps who have most certainly earned one—that, and a whole lot more besides.

Raycissts and homophobes and hate, oh my!

Sooner or later, they’ll get around to something you DO care about.

It’s time to cancel the Village People

Meh—as a diehard disco-hatin’ rock and roller all my life, I thought so a long time ago. But maybe that’s just me.

Discerning cancellation connoisseurs so far have overlooked one of the most problematic boy bands of the 20th century — and it’s time to change that. The American disco group the Village People features a cast of empenised individuals donning costumes that glorify toxically masculine tropes of the time: a police officer, a cowboy, a construction worker, a sailor, a biker and, bizarrely, a Native American (more on that later).

This mono-gendered depiction of the local proletariat is laughably outdated. While some might say the only thing lesbians are actually good at is running nonprofits, today we know that Sappho’s daughters are just as good as men, probably better, at chasing down perps, roping steer and erecting skyscrapers. But let’s look at the music. Have you ever actually listened to the group’s 1979 hit ‘In the Navy’? On that track, it’s one of the band’s black members who shouts repeatedly, ‘I’m afraid of water!’

That raised my eyebrows. A constantly repeated racist stereotype is that black people can’t swim. The slur conjures up painful memories of the racial history of American swimming pools and that heated debate among the wokerati as to whether water itself is, in fact, racist.

Forget the fact that the music video was made with the help of the US Navy. The Village People, despite cashing in on military trappings, have remained silent on the struggle for trans people to serve openly in the military.

Silence is violence. And the name of the group itself is violence against trans womxn of color. Manhattan’s Greenwich Village today is emblematic of cis-het gentrification and a painful reminder of white real-estate terrorism. Take a stroll down Christopher Street on any given Friday night and see for yourself: trans womxn of color banished to basement stairwells and parked cars to perform sex acts for money in the shadows rather than high on a pedestal wearing golden knee pads.

Moreover, what does the ‘C’ stand for in the Village People’s number one hit song ‘Y.M.C.A.’? That’s right, Christian.

Today’s Alphabeteer is blessed with more enlightened sheroes and none involves cisgender men sporting getups that look like something from a plastic bag in the Halloween aisle at Ricky’s. While today’s paragons of LGBTQQAI2S++ liberation still play dress up, it’s usually as large, hairy women and we broadcast them in benevolently corporate media and in ads for Uber Eats.

The uniforms of true LGBTQQAI2S++ warriors aren’t fitted and pressed but more neon and bedraggled, like some highly poisonous, jungle-dwelling amphibian broadcasting to any creature in sight, touch me and die! The struggle for rights has moved well beyond an insular celebration of one’s own community to shock, revolt and intimidate all the others.

If the Village People wish to make a comeback in the age of woke, and pay penance to all the gender non-conforming children they’ve irreparably damaged, they’ll need a radical overhaul. Let’s rename them while we’re at it: the Global Village People. First to go are those caricatures of working class, Trumpian barbarism, to be replaced with more revolutionary-minded archetypes. Imagine the curtain rising on a packed Las Vegas stadium to reveal a college professor, a clipboard-toting community organizer, an app developer, the world’s fattest man, a Syrian war refugee, and Greta Thunberg — belting their new hit songs, ‘Trans in the Navy,’ ‘Go East,’ and everyone’s favorite open-borders ballad, ‘D.A.C.A.’

If that doesn’t sweep the Grammy’s, you’re all a bunch of bigots.

Well, of COURSE we are. The trick is to embrace their every insult and epithet, wear it with utmost pride, and then dare the shitlibs to do something about that. The moment you show even the slightest sign that you might possibly care even a little bit what they think about anything, you lose.

Social media preferences

Gab rules, Parler drools.

Why Parler sucks, and why Gab is superior
I hate social media, but I’ve had accounts on Gab, Parler, and Twitter for about a year, so I’ve used them enough to get a feel for the usability and member engagement.  I’ve been in the software development world in various capacities for almost thirty years, so I have some opinions on how things work in this space and what’s possible.

At this point, sadly, I think Parler is a bad joke.  If someone got me into meeting to hear a pitch for a conservative-friendly platform modeled after Parler, in 2020, I’d throw them out of my office and probably fire the person who set up the meeting.  I’ve been supportive of Brad Parscale, but I have no idea what in the hell he’s thinking here.

I don’t have a dog in this fight, and have nothing against Parler itself.  I would love an alternative to Gab that would give the President another platform he could use to communicate with us, but right now, Gab seems to be the only platform that could accommodate the scale and functionality required by the President to move from Twitter.

As y’all no doubt are aware, I share this guy’s feelings about mainstream SM, so don’t have a dog in this fight myself. In fact, some of you folks might be wondering why I’m bothering with this topic at all, considering my complete disinterest in it. The next ‘graph will help explain.

Twitter is like the once-hard core rocker who used to play heavy-metal music and bang chicks all night, but ten years later is cruising the truck stop looking for a driver to blow to get a ride back to CHAZ. It’s sad to see what they’ve become.

Okay, I damned near busted a gut over that one. My overall apathy towards SM aside, I was casting idly about to find out whether I could replace Trump’s long-since-defunct Twitter feed over in the sidebar with Soopersekret’s Gab one. I had no idea whether it was possible to embed a Gab feed, honestly. And I still don’t, due to being sidetracked by the above post. I know you can’t embed individual Gab posts, so probably not.

Either way, sometime this evening I’ll either replace Trump’s unjustly-extinguished Twitter feed or remove it and leave that space unoccupied. There’s no point in leaving the dead feed up, so it’s gone in any event. I’ll likely have other site news over the next few days as well, some of which I’m pretty dang excited about. It’s been a rockin’ week so far, I must say.

Update! Okay, Trump feed gone, Trump Jr’s embedded. As Bill said when he did the same, Trump The Younger certainly isn’t Trump The Lesser; from what I’ve seen of the kid, he’s more pugnacious and unabashed than Trump is, which is saying something. Junior’s feed might very well, uhhh, Trump his old man’s.

Yeah, naaaaah

I’ve said before that I respect her as one of a miniscule number of relatively sane Democrats, maybe even admire her courageous and honest willingness to push back against the more wild-eyed and bizarre Demonrat proposals. She’s a liberal all right, but she’s also one of a nearly extinct breed that, despite mulishly clinging to many ridiculous and unworkable collectivist ideals, nonetheless remains intellectually supple enough to be at least marginally responsive to archaic and forsaken concepts such as common sense, real-world practicality, and respectful tolerance for dissenting opinion. Practically alone among her Party peers, Gabbard’s integrity and love of country has never been in question, or not that I know of anyway. All in all, I stand behind my assessment of her. For a liberal and a Demonrat, Tulsi is more or less all right with me.

But still.

The political realignment spurred by President Donald Trump’s rise as the undeniable leader of the Republican Party is only just beginning, and it may result in the emergence of a surprising superstar: former U.S. Representative Tulsi Gabbard of Hawaii.

Gabbard first gained national attention as a supporter of Senator Bernie Sanders, (I-Vt.) who refused to participate in a corrupt DNC process that disenfranchised the far-left presidential candidate. Her stand made her a reviled figure among establishment Democrats, who hated her even more when she refused to buy into anti-Russia hysteria and opposed U.S. bombing campaigns in Syria. Her refreshing candor has resulted in an unexpected cult following on the pro-Trump Right.

While Gabbard’s economic policies vary considerably from the Republican orthodoxy, she brings a much-needed breath of fresh air on civil liberties and American foreign intervention. These are issues that appeal to young people, who are the prime demographic for the meat grinder of war and who often find themselves punished by the state for nonviolently enjoying their lives. Gabbard is an asset whose point of view should not be rejected out of hand in Trump’s GOP. Making the Republican Party into a true MAGA coalition will require the building of bridges and the rejection of failed approaches tried in the past.

Gabbard is a politician that the Republican Party needs to rebuild its shattered credibility among the masses. She has built a brand as a maverick who will say what she believes is right on the issues, no matter the political consequences.

Gabbard would also alienate all of the worst actors still festering within the Republican Party. The annoying free marketeers, who gave the cold shoulder to Trump for his economic nationalism, would naturally be up in arms over Gabbard’s lack of reverence for the sacred deity of gross domestic product. The remnants of the neoconservative war party, including former South Carolina Governor Nikki Haley and Representative Liz Cheney of Wyoming, would be the most triggered, and their anguish alone would be worth letting the Gabbardites into the fold. 

Could be, could be. The idea of wooing Tulsi in an attempt at persuading her to cross the partisan Rubicon is certainly audacious, bold, and unconventional—attributes I usually respond to positively, whatever the context. To me, they’re features, not bugs.

But no rebellious Maverick needs to wax all ebullient over this prospect. Sadly, the author slams head-on into a familiar obstacle discussed here numerous times: he’s made the killing mistake of accepting the false premise that tinkering, fine-tuning, or fiddling around under the Uniparty hood is still a useful, worthwhile project. Sorry, son, but it ain’t. The American system is dead as a dodo, with the up-front-fraudulent 2020 election as its death certificate, and there is no hope of reanimating the carcass. She was murdered a-purpose; mourn her loss, fine, but don’t kid yourself: she ain’t coming back. Intellectual pud-pulling to insipid fantasies of “retaking Congress in 2024” and all the other feverish wet-dreams whose climax revolves entirely around attaining a fair victory in an honestly-conducted election is worse than a waste of time.

Speculatively blibbering on about just how the treacherous GOPe could be reformed is a mug’s game, nothing more. At this point it’s tiresome, pathetic—a pointless distraction that will hurt far more than it will ever help. The facts are in; it’s time we all grew up and faced them squarely in an adult fashion.

A few dabs of touch-up paint will never suffice to restore the gloss to the rotted, corruption-stained husk of “American democracy.” To properly bring a lasting shine back up on this tattered, battered old bucket o’ bolts will mean more than some el-cheapo patch-job. She’s gonna need a complete body-off-frame restoration. If properly and meticulously done, by someone who knows how and is passionate about his craft, the results are a thing of beauty, damned close to miraculous. But it’s a long, time-eating process. And you just better believe it ain’t cheap.

Humblest apologies

For I was wrong, so wrong. SteveF, as is his wont, makes a good point.

I’ll tell you the same thing I told Matt Bracken yesterday: I have no problem with the flag going to half mast because of a few dead hookers. The flag goes to half mast when a retired politician dies, and half a dozen hookers were worth more than almost any politician, working or retired.

Can’t argue, won’t try. What I’d really like to see, though, is for “president” Bai-Ding to bring the bodies of those dear departed Hotlanta dollies to lie in state in the Capitol Rotunda. As Steve says, hooers are just as deserving of the honor as any sleazeball politician, and more so than most of ’em.

In fact, contra my earlier gripe about our national unseriousness, perhaps a start at becoming a more serious country would be to start taking official notice of certain realities. Prostitutes provide a genuinely valuable service to people who need it—the universally-familiar witticism describing prostitution as “the world’s oldest profession” ought to be proof enough of the eternal market for that service to deflate any doubts.

Professional politicians, on the other hand, provide nothing whatsoever that anybody wants, let alone needs. They are not producers, but usurpers. They present themselves to those who create, build, manufacture, repair, &c as a blessing instead of an affliction, persuading the productive class of the essential, existential necessity for a Government Class empowered to organize, regulate, moderate, mediate, and protect all those who actually do useful things. Once they’ve conned the serfs into playing along with the swindle, the Governing Class will straightaway begin the process of gradual exsanguination of the host society, like the parasites they actually are.

Our GC boasts of the “advancement” of the very society forced to drag them along as dead weight; of “improving” the things they ruined; of “rebuilding” the things they destroyed; of implementing “solutions” for the problems they created. They puff out their chests and flatter themselves about how vital, how indispensible they are, when the truth is that we’d all be a lot better off without them. If the entire dismal lot of them were sucked bodily off into outer space tonight, society would waste barely a moment tomorrow wondering where they all might have gone.

They boost “efficiency” via imposing a smothering layer of bureacracy, red tape, and intrusion on the now-“streamlined” organization. They hinder while bragging about the many ways in which they’re helping. To hear these swine tell it, the only sensible way to increase the wealth of ordinary individuals is to confiscate at least a third of their income; sift that ill-gotten gain through the government’s waste, administration, and corruption filters; then hand the poor victims a tiny fraction of their own money back to them as “stimulus,” “reparations,” “benefits,” etc—all of which will be taxed also, of course—even as they constantly remind one and all of the selflessness of their big-hearted “benefactors” in government, without whose generosity all would surely be lost.

When the hapless suckers have gotten a bellyful of having their lifeblood sucked out of them, they may become restive. If so, the Government Class will usually begin to round up the disgruntled opposition to be put on trial (maybe, someday) for “treason,” “insurrection,” “disloyalty,” “incitement,” or “hate speech.” Some could be brought up slightly lesser charges for offenses such as “conspiracy,” “uncooperativeness,” “obstruction” or “interfering” with an arrest, investigation, surveillance, a government agent or agency, or any official procedure, function, or activity.

As the slow implosion of the whole farcical system accelerates, the grip of the Government Class will paradoxically tighten—until one fine day it too fails. At which point all hell breaks loose, and the whole circle-jerk begins anew.

So yeah, I think it’s high time we elevated our Ho’ Class and started viewing those noble, courageous heroes from a different vantage. Hey, if the choice is between them and the GC vermin, I can easily tell ya who gets my vote, six days a week and twice on Sunday. Meanwhile, in light of my aformentioned error, I’ll leave you with this.



Enemies on all sides

This one has been sitting in an open tab waiting for me to get around to posting on it for long enough that I’ve completely forgotten where I originally ran across it, so there’ll be no “Via…” link acknowledging credit, unfortunately. No matter, though; the really important thing is that this story gets read, by as many people as can be reached. Yes, it IS that important, and for more reasons than just one.

U.S.A. –-(AmmoLand.com)- In Garland, Texas, on 3 May 2015, Gregory Stevens, a veteran police officer with the Garland Police Department, was working off duty as armed security for the “Draw the Prophet” cartoon contest event.

Pamela Geller organized the Draw the Prophet event as a response to Islamic demands that Western Civilization submits to Islamic censorship.

The infamous attack on the Charlie Hebdo offices in Paris had occurred just five months earlier, by two Islamists with AK-47 type rifles and Tokarev pistols.

Many will remember the Draw Mohammed event, in the Dallas suburb of Garland, which was attacked by two Isis recruits.

Few know the details of how one prepared gunfighter police officer faced two Islamic riflemen armed with semi-automatic rifles, handguns, plenty of ammunition, soft body armor, and the element of surprise. He fought them at close range and prevailed.

What you might also remember is how Gellar was roundly, viciously condemned as a “right-wing extremist” who was actually to blame for the attack. The usual shitlib suspects—joined by a depressing number of weak-tea “conservative” commentators bleating along in a pattern that has become all too familiar nowadays—accused Geller of acting as a provocateur, motivated not by any desire to proactively defend freedom of speech against jihadi violence but solely by “racist” anti-Moslem bigotry.

Officer Stevens was working extra hours as armed, uniformed security for the event. He would turn 60 in a few days. He had a long experience as a traffic officer. He was a gun guy, who preferred a 1911 .45 Auto.

As a concession to modern pistol design, he had been issued a Glock model 21, chambered in .45 Auto. He was carrying his Glock in his standard duty rig, with a 13 round magazine, a round chambered, and two spare magazines, for a total of 40 rounds of Speer Gold Dot 230 grain hollowpoints.

At the scene with Greg Stevens is Bruce Joiner, an unarmed security guard from Garland Independent School District (ISD). They are in charge of the back entrance to the event, the West entrance coming off of Naaman Forest Blvd, the entrance the VIPs, caterers, and security teams use.

To those scouting for an attack, it appears to be a weak point. There are only two guards. Only one of them is armed. The armed guard (Officer Stevens) only has one pistol and is older than average.

There had been numerous death threats issued about the event. A competent security plan had been created. Greg says he was put at the back entrance because it was viewed as the “easy job”. He joked the idea was to “give the old guy the easy job”. He had a list of the people authorized to use the entrance, and codes they were required to know in order to use it. It was a shortlist.

Pam Geller and Gert Wilder had been passed through. A snafu with a caterer had been cleared up. Gert Wilder and his security team had left.

Just before 7 p.m. in the evening, Greg went to the restroom. A pair of roving armed security took his place. He took his duty car. He returned to his post. The roving team left.

About five minutes after he returned, a small black car pulls up, and stops, abruptly, facing away from the entrance.

Greg’s hair starts standing up on the back of his neck. His “police sense” starts going off. Something is not “right”. The car has out-of-state plates, from Arizona. Immediately, both doors to the car open at the same time.

Gripping stuff so far, no? Ahh, just you wait; trust me, the story is only beginning to get good. Suffice it to say that Stevens—a courageous, conscientious, and thoroughly competent cop—very likely saved a lot of lives with his keen professional instincts, quick reflexes, and the cool-calm-and-collected application of a scrupulously-maintained skillset that day. He represents a vanishing breed—the sort of man society will never have enough of, but cannot prosper long without.

The real kicker, though, comes in at the end of the piece. I won’t go into any of that, other than to note that the FBI is involved, making it another of those anomalies that one might find shocking but is unsurprising nonetheless. Happily, I just now remembered where I saw the above article first, a blog which just happens to be run by a fine young feller who is by no means unknown in this neck of the woods. He fleshes the whole thing out with additional details and some quite disturbing observations of his own.

A nation mourns

So just to make sure I’ve got all this straight here: some random psycho walks into an ATL brothel and murders eight whores. The puppetmasters in charge of making pRetend pResident Bai-Ding dance see political hay to be made and have Faux Jaux stagger and stumble his way onto Air Farce Un to sky on down to The City Too Busy To Hate and order the shit-smeared FedGovCo ensign flown at half-staff to honor our national pussy-peddler heroes. Because, y’know, white supremacy ‘n’ Trump ‘n’ schtuff.

Yep, I believe that about covers it.

Biden orders flags flown at half-staff to honor Atlanta shooting victims

Well, it’s definitely a first, I’ll give him that much.

President Biden on Thursday ordered the flags at the White House and all federal buildings be flown at half-staff to honor the victims of the Atlanta-area spa shootings.

“As a mark of respect for the victims of the senseless acts of violence perpetrated on March 16, 2021, in the Atlanta Metropolitan area, by the authority vested in me as President of the United States by the Constitution and the laws of the United States of America, I hereby order that the flag of the United States shall be flown at half-staff … until sunset, March 22, 2021,” the White House said in a statement.

The order is also in effect for US embassies, consular officers and other facilities abroad, including military bases and naval vessels.

On Friday, the president and Vice President Kamala Harris will travel to Atlanta where they will meet with leaders in the Asian-American community.

All this, mind, for a non-event that—in a dozen collapsing urban hellscapes across the Former US—would more typically be referred to as a Mostly Peaceful Sunday afternoon.

Robert Aaron Long, 21, was arrested and charged with murder in the eight killings.

Long blamed the slayings on his sex addiction and claimed his intention was to “eliminate” the temptation.

And with that, it is now official: heretofore generally acknowledged as a deeply unserious nation, the FUSA has now descended into ludicrous self-parody.

A nation of pussies redux

What really gets me is how none of these tremulous wretches seem to feel at all embarrassed about it.

Why we’re scared for the pandemic to end
Public transit makes us sweat. The prospect of crowded restaurants and bars is thrilling but unfamiliar. People thirsting for daily interaction now worry they’ve lost the ease with which they once socialized. For so long we’ve been looking toward a world that gathers and touches, a world where smiles are unobscured and conversations unmuffled, but the longer we’ve been denied it, the more stressful its return has become.

“COVID definitely has shifted our experience, our perception of what’s considered normal,” said Lynn Bufka, senior director of practice transformation and quality at the American Psychological Association.

Which of course was the intent all along, fool.

“We should expect that there’s going to be some period of time when how we respond to the world around us is going to be different, where we’re going to potentially feel like this is…awkward. But what can be helpful is to recognize that everyone likely feels that way to some extent.”

Speak for yourself, Poindexter.

The pandemic has forced us into a massive social experiment. We’ve never been apart quite like this before. Has COVID fundamentally changed our social lives, or simply paused them? Nearly half of Americans say they feel uneasy thinking about in-person interaction once the pandemic ends, according to the American Psychological Association’s 2021 Stress in America report. Adults who received a COVID-19 vaccine were just as likely as those who haven’t been vaccinated to express unease.

I suppose it’s a good thing that we now have a hard number on the percentage of “Americans” who are gutless, mewling pusscakes.

Experts say it’s important to acknowledge your stress during this transition.

Then promptly disregard it as the unwarranted, cowardly neurosis it is.

It’s normal to feel nervous.

No it isn’t. It really, really isn’t.

People shouldn’t judge themselves too harshly for their anxieties.

On the contrary; it isn’t possible for such sissymarys to be judged harshly enough.

Once people accept this, they can begin to take small steps toward re-integration.

I have no desire to be “re-integrated” with any such miserable worms. In fact, I’d prefer not to be associated with them in any way, shape, or form. All I really want is for them to stay as far the hell away from me as can possibly be arranged.

“The worst thing we could do is completely avoid things causing us anxiety, because avoidance can work in the short term but it impairs us in the long run. What it does, in essence, is it reinforces this notion that everything is a threat,” Wright said.

Again: the whole idea. If you aren’t familiar with the FUD principle and its usefulness as a tool of tyrannical government, you might want to rectify that.

When an activity is causing someone anxiety, engaging in it over and over can make the person less anxious. If fear is inhibiting you from engaging in activities the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention deem safe, that could be a sign you need to change your approach.

I do not give a damp fart what the CDC deems “safe.” If—after innumerable retractions, contradictions, exaggerations, and just outright fucking lies from those goobermint asswipes—you still trust a word from them even a little bit, then you have way bigger problems than any piffling “anxiety.”

Most people will easily adjust to a post-pandemic world, experts say. But for others – people with existing mental health disorders, for example, or who experienced trauma during the pandemic – re-entering society could prove more stressful.

Ahh, we finally get to the truth of the matter: those who were already bugfuck nuts anyway will be the ones who have problems.

“I don’t think that we’re going to go back to how things were pre-pandemic just because that’s the way things always were,” Wright said. 
It’s possible some people may grow more selective in their socialization. 

Oh, I can tell you for sure I plan to be myself, based on this article among other things. Way, WAY more selective.

Pedos gonna pedo

Better sit down, everyone, this one is a real shocker for sure.

BREAKING: Former President of Drag Queen Story Hour Foundation and Children’s Court Judge Arrested on Seven Counts of Child Porn

Surprising precisely no one. No one with a lick of sense, at any rate. Hold the phone though, there IS actually one (1) legitimately shocking aspect to this story, which we’ll deal with anon.

A Milwaukee County Children’s Court judge and former president and CEO of the Cream City Foundation, which runs the city’s drag queen story hour program, has been arrested on seven counts of child pornography.

Brett Blomme, 38, was arrested on Tuesday for allegedly uploading 27 images and videos of children being sexually abused on the messaging app Kik.

Blomme was held overnight and released with a signature. He has been ordered to stay off social media and file-sharing services and is not allowed near any children except the two that he adopted with his husband.

Blomme is accused of uploading the images both from his home and from the judge’s chambers.

The alleged pedophile judge was the president and CEO of the Cream City Foundation, which runs the Milwaukee Drag Queen Story Hour for local children. As of early Thursday morning, however, all articles and mentions of him had been scrubbed from their website. The links were still cached by Google’s search engine and his role remained detailed on his LinkedIn page.

The gin-yoo-wine shocker mentioned above I will phrase as a question, to wit: HOW THE FUCKING FUCK DID THIS LOATHSOME KIDDIE-DIDDLING SON OF A BITCH EVER BECOME A FUCKING JUDGE IN THE FIRST FUCKING PLACE?!?

File that one under “Questions that make you wonder where the heck God is with that next Great Flood, anyway?” While you’re all working that mental jawbreaker over, here’s something else to think on and remember:

Someone once asked Slick Willie Sutton, the bank robber, why he robbed banks. The question might have uncovered a tale of injustice and lifelong revenge. Maybe a banker foreclosed on the old homestead, maybe a banker’s daughter spurned Sutton for another.

Sutton looked a little surprised, as if he had been asked “Why does a smoker light a cigarette?”

“I rob banks because that’s where the money is,” he said.

And in accord with that, we now have the Pervert Corollary to Sutton’s Maxim: Kiddie Diddlers will reliably be found where the kiddies are. Which would make DQSH a mighty neat little setup for these monstrous freaks, wouldn’t you say?

Elsewhere, Ace dishes up the snark.

Another David French Blessing of Liberty (TM)!

Weird how it turns out that someone with a keen interest in playing sexualized dress-up games with children turns out to also have sexual interest in children.

Ain’t it, though. Ain’t it just. For those of y’all who may have forgotten, or perhaps were never even aware of the phenomenon under discussion in the first place (as a good friend of mine turned out to be today, which I was indeed shocked by), a representative sampling of what Drag Queen Story Hour looks like:

DQSH-Freak-1.jpg

DQSH-Freak-2.jpg

DQSH-Freak-3.jpg

DQSH-Freak-4.jpg


Yeppers, all perfectly healthy, wholesome, and normal as far as I can tell. Nothing whatsoever depraved or unsettling about any of that, nosireebob. Why, who but a hate-crazed bigot could possibly take issue with normalizing it, thereby encouraging transvestism as nothing more than a viable, sensible alternative for young children to consider exploring? If you have a problem with this, then you ARE the problem, Hitler-boy. In fact, these courageous cross-dressers should all be hailed as true HEROS for putting themselves in the line of fire so nobly—helping to broaden the horizons and open the eyes of children so desperately in need of having the archaic, stifling moral values instilled in them by their narrow-minded, CisHet parents supplanted by more evolved, humane, Progressivist ones.

LOVE WINS!™, you sick, uptight, homophobic oppressors!

Christ on a crutch, but this is one fucked-up dumpster fire of a country. The more I see of daylight barking madness like this, the more I feel like the jihadis might just have had the right idea about us all along.

He’s DEAD, Jim

Hey, anybody remember back last summer when I likened the already disintegrating Zombie Joe to Max Headroom?

WELL.


I strongly advise y’all to watch the vid before dismissing this as some particularly out-there conspiracy theorizing. Cadaver Joe has clearly been digitally airbrushed in, so to speak. And it’s a piss-poor, amateurish job at that. Why, it’s as if the Shadow Government no longer cares in the least whether or not they’re fooling anybody. Kinda puts paid to that whole “they fear us” notion, I’d say. Oh, we might worry them somewhat every now and then. But deeply, seriously fear us? Nope. This ludicrously careless hack-job represents an in-your-face flipping of the bird at the very idea that The Power will ever face repercussions or consequences for its heinous crimes. It reveals quite a bit regarding some momentous matters, Numero Uno among them being our masters’ supreme confidence in their own untouchable impunity.

More, and plenty of it:

Many Twitter pundits are sounding the alarm about a video of Joe Biden briefly speaking to the press before boarding Marine One earlier today. Biden, who appeared flummoxed while briefly answering questions, appears to phase through a microphone when his hands, which are in focus, somehow jut in front of a seemingly out of focus microphone. Additionally, Biden’s hands appear much smaller than the microphone.

In the video, Biden declares he has no plans to visit the southern border amid the largest migrant crisis the country has seen in over a decade. Approximately 8 seconds into the clip, Biden’s in-focus hands somehow cross in front of a much larger microphone that is seemingly held by a member of the media. The microphone appears out of focus in the clip.

Several conservative commentators were flabbergasted by the video, suggesting that it does not seem to physically make sense, unless the microphone was digitally altered to be included in the scene, or Biden was digitally altered to be included in the scene.

As Renegade Dave says, we are now expected to accept rule by a Virtual pResident, while our hidden masters chortle from backstage at our sheeplike docility. Any Real American still clinging to the forlorn hope that elections are of any use whatsoever is nothing but a goddamned fool. A healthy fear definitely does need to be re-instilled in our loathsome ProPol class without delay—a plainspoken and inflexible refresher course on what the long-forgotten term “public servants” really means—and even more so, in the veiled powers behind the show-throne. But America’s rigged elections, alas for us all, aren’t going to do it.

Middle finger update! Darleen backs me up.

So what we have here is either Clown media colluding with Biden’s handlers to create an event where FICUS appears to be a normal, functioning President who can appear in front of the press without some secret service agent throwing himself in front of an unscripted question or…

We have a Clown Media who passes on White House green-screen productions and is laughing at everyone who spots the clumsiness of the editing. This is their big middle finger at the hoi polloi who dare might question who is actually in charge now.

Precious, don’t you think?

Ain’t it just. Maybe getting their asses kicked up between their shoulder blades, in whatever way you’d like to interpret that, would help bring them all back to reality.

The Daily Donnybrook

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