Y’all no doubt remember my prediction that Kavanaugh would never get a confirmation vote, much less in time to take his rightful place for the next session of the Court. I said then that I’d be delighted to be forced to eat crow if that turned out to be wrong, but I didn’t expect it. Well…ummm…can somebody find me a knife and a fork, maybe?
WASHINGTON DC – Judge Brett Kavanaugh was sworn in as the 114th Supreme Court justice late Saturday, just hours after the Senate voted to confirm him to the nation’s highest court after a rancorous confirmation battle.
Kavanaugh was sworn in by Chief Justice John Roberts in a private ceremony, accompanied by his wife and children. It means that now-Justice Kavanaugh will begin hearing cases before the court on Tuesday.
Bold mine, proving I was dead wrong on both counts. On the even brighter side, a heaping helping of liberal tears ought to help my unexpected meal go down nicely.
Go check out the pics, they’ll do your heart good. Meanwhile, I gotta go look up a decent recipe for crow here.
Unhinged update! More sweet, sweet liberal tears.
I was in the Senate gallery this afternoon when Justice Brett Kavanaugh was confirmed. You would have thought I was at an exorcism in an insane asylum.
Perhaps you were watching on television and heard the disruptions, though you certainly didn’t see them. The attenuated audio probably didn’t catch the frightening, incoherent shrieking – including the lingering screaming and howling as they were being dragged down the hallways outside the gallery.
If there was any doubt that the opposition to Kavanaugh was unhinged, uncivil, disruptive, rude, and borderline nuts, my experience in the gallery made it clear.
The first example came when Senator Cornyn rightfully railed against the mobs who spent the last three weeks assaulting and assailing Kavanaugh supporters.
“Mob rule is necessary,” one shrieking woman shouted before security personnel could settle her down.
At least she was honest. It did not appear that Capitol Police removed her for her crime, unfortunately. That would soon change.
Nothing they were yelling and howling could be heard. It was the sound of all of them, in discordant, rage-fueled, wild fury, that was so unearthly. I have never heard a sound like it before.
Senator Dick Durbin said a few weeks ago in response to the committee that these were the sounds of democracy.
No they weren’t. They were the sounds of a group of people tinkering with madness. They were the sounds of irrational, unhinged, and unmoored lunatics. These were the people who opposed Kavanaugh’s nomination. They were an embarrassment to themselves.
These are not merely insane disruptors. These are people who care nothing for the country’s institutions. Even courtesy in the Senate gallery is an institution these monsters hate.
Trump pounced tonight at a rally in Kansas. “You don’t give power to an angry left-wing mob. The Democrats have become too dangerous and extreme to govern.”
Bold mine, and dead on the money. “The sound of democracy”? Self-serving twaddle; it’s the sound of democracy derided and undermined—of anarchy, chaos, insolence, sedition, and madness. These people are overgrown brats throwing a tantrum of extraordinary, vein-busting vehemence; any parent of a spoiled toddler would recognize it right away. Their every bitter defeat is a bounty and a boon, their anguished caterwaul a delight to the ears of real Americans. I’ve posted this vid before, and it remains evergreen:
She will never be president.
Update! Since I mentioned Fran’s blog, I also ought to mention that he’s been kind enough to extend posting privileges to me over at his joint, for which I am grateful. Haven’t yet had time to take advantage of it yet, but I fully intend to do so, soonest.
Liberals can’t be happy with simply ruining the lives of decent conservatives for cheap political gain. They have to ruin hamburgers, too.
The burger is the ultimate Normal food, and horrible liberal elitists are trying to screw it up with lame alternative burgers because they are terrible.
Let me be clear, to quote an awful ex-president: Nothing I write here is open to debate. I’m turning the epistemic closure thing back on the libs. It is impossible to disagree with my ground beef rantings, and if you do, you are racist, sexist, and a burgerphobic cisdinner hate criminal of hatred.
Let’s clarify something else. Hamburgers are the King of American Casual Food. You can eat it in a bar, you can eat it in a car. Just don’t eat it in some trendy coastal eatery because they’ll screw it all up and you’ll end up dreaming of a Big Mac.
Okay, so far, so good. I’m down with all that. But then this happens:
Sloppy Joes are gross. They are burgers’ ne’er-do-well little brother, 35 and living in the basement nursing emotional damage because mom liked burgers better. And who wouldn’t? Sloppy Joes are orangey muck plopped onto a bun. They provide none of the firm but juicy consistency, or the satisfying interplay of extras and condiments, that make the burger nature’s perfect food. They are mere goo and are unworthy of a proud and free people.
Like hell! Sloppy Joes are messy, sure, but what kid cares about that? And that’s who Sloppy Joes are for: kids. I ate plenty of em as a young ‘un, and I loved them, and have nothing whatsoever against ’em even in my twilight years. Even so, I can forgive Kurt for that unwarranted slur; I’m a generous-hearted, understanding soul like that, possessed of an open mind and great tolerance for diversity of thought. But then he crosses a bright red line:
Hot dogs are likewise terrible – what the hell is a hot dog anyway? With their troubling shape, unnatural smoothness, and nauseating consistency, the hot dog is a mutant entrée, a devolved sausage without flavor or purpose. You have to waste perfectly good chili – chili that should be in a bowl topped with sour cream in a just universe – just to make a hot dog taste like something.
Even the name is unappetizing, unless you are Obama. My kid says hot dogs are really tacos because of the bread V, and he makes a good point. Except tacos are tasty and hot dogs are awful.
DUDE. Seriously? Hot dogs are GREAT, and about as American as it gets. You never heard of the phrase “baseball, hot dogs, apple pie, and…”? Uhh, okay, we’ll leave a certain crap car manufacturer out of it for now.
But, I mean, come ON. You folks in NYC and Chicago will doubtless argue over which city’s version of the blessed tube-steak sandwich is the best, and you’re welcome to do so if you like. Myself, I absolutely love ’em both. For those of you who might not have had one or the other, I’ll give ya a photo of each which will illustrate the amazing variety the hot dog offers:
All in all: Kurt, you know I love ya. But when you diss the ‘dog you put yourself on the fightin’ side of me, boy. This Wikipedia bit ought to be enough to set things straight:
These types of sausages and their sandwiches were culturally imported from Germany and popularized in the United States, where the “hot dog” became a working-class street food sold at hot dog stands and carts. The hot dog became closely associated with baseball and American culture.
Now I ask you, what’s not to like? I think we can all agree on his closer, though:
My upcoming book Militant Normals: How Regular Americans Are Rebelling Against the Elite to Reclaim Our Democracy contains no burger recipes, because normal people don’t need burger recipes. Normals take meat, throw it on a grill, put it on a bun, put some stuff on it, and eat it like the heroes they are.
And liberals? They screw up everything they touch. The arts. Academia. Dinner.
Well said, sir. Well said.
Enter the search term “San Francisco feces map” into Google and it comes back with 1,040,000 results. Yeah, it’s a thing. San Francisco was always grungy – back in the 1980s, I believe it was comic Bobby Slayton who called it “the city that makes its own gravy” – but it has gone from merely unwashed to actively unflushed.
Sure, it’s funny to the rest of us, in a horrifying and disgusting kind of way, just like the fact that the socialist geniuses in Venezuela are forcing the famished locals to gnaw on its zoo’s zebras and gnus for sustenance. You look at these examples of leftism in action and you have to laugh, but what’s not funny is that this is not some sort of aberration. This is the future our liberal elite wants for us, and it’s doing everything it can to make it a reeking reality.
You see, they could stop this nonsense any time. No one has to live with derelicts choking grumpies in public places. Most places don’t have this problem – yet. Hell, public sanitation was one of the great leaps forward that took the world out of the Dark Ages. It’s not hard to stop. You just don’t tolerate it. Drop a deuce, do a month in jail.
Simple. You just have to want to stop it, but our liberal overlords don’t want to stop it. They want this.
Look at what they are doing, so to speak. The commie mayor of New York is undoing the Rudy Giuliani Revolution and ushering in a return to the Big Apple of Serpico and Taxi Driver. The new Democrat DA candidate in Boston wants to stop prosecuting the petty crimes that make urban life unlivable. Here in Los Angeles, hordes of zombie freaks wander the streets, overrunning public spaces and breaking into cars, knowing they have a literal “get out of jail free” card because California rarely puts people in the slam for that sort of thing anymore. Oh, and California is getting rid of cash bail. By the way, a woman in my neighborhood just got raped by one of these creeps.
Oh well. It’s all for justice, you know. Justice for criminals. Justice for dirtbags. Justice for the mangy people who make it so you can’t even let your kids go outside to play.
But what about justice for us?
What about justice for the people who work, who support themselves, who try to raise decent families, who aren’t bipedal cro-mags who drop trou and crack a stink pickle wherever and whenever they feel like?
The fact is that this is the liberal elite’s blueprint for the future. It’s a future where crime goes unpunished, and pathological deviance is allowed to flourish. But not where the elite live and work. Just like none of their kids ever attend any of the pathology factories that are the urban public schools, their kids instead get to go to secure private schools, safe from the chaos their liberal mommies and daddies tolerate for the little minority kids across the freeway.
They want you playing hopscotch with human dung. They want you living in fear; you’re more pliable that way. All this shows you who’s boss.
Okay, I admit it: I don’t really give a shit (ahem) about San Francisco. Nor do I care what the shitlibs (ahem) living in any of a dozen squalid urban cesspools (ahem) choose to put up with in order to nurture their sense of smug, contemptuous superiority over the “drones” and “zombies” living in those godawful, soulless (and clean, and safe, and pretty much cholera-free) suburbs. No, I mainly wanted to excerpt this one because Kurt’s euphemisms for pinching a loaf are so damned funny.
Oh yeah, almost forgot, there was this storm around these parts…
Not a huge problem inland where I live, really, just a bunch of rain and a period of fairly stiff wind late last night/early this morning. Nothing at all like Hugo was, thank God. Hugo was a real bitch.
It still brought out the fear-mongering and hysteria among the local media types, as you would expect. And then there was our governor, the More Or Less Honorable Judge Roy Bean Cooper, who for some reason decided the situation required that he wax poetic:
North Carolina, my message is clear: disaster is at the doorstep, and it’s coming in.
This may be a marathon, not a sprint. This storm threatens life; forecasts show a storm surge higher than many homes…expect this storm to batter our state for days.
The coast will feel the blast first thing in the morning, with damaging, life threatening surge, wind, and rain…
The waves and the wind this storm may bring is nothing like you’ve ever seen. Even if you’ve ridden out storms before, this one is different. This storm is a monster. It’s big and it’s vicious. It is an extremely dangerous, life-threatening, historic hurricane. Don’t bet your life on riding out a monster. This storm is an uninvited brute, who doesn’t want to leave.
Indeed, it is reminiscent, in its terrible lust for human sacrifice and chaos, of the faceless Nyarlathotep, or even the unspeakable Yog-Sothoth Himself. This demonic storm, just as the Old Ones who sent it to afflict and torment us, is possessed of a thirst for human blood that cannot be quenched. It is the stuff of nightmares, untouchable by compassion or love, not amenable to logic or reason. Carolinians cannot hope to conquer or prevail; we can only hope some handful of us will survive, and endure. Somehow.
Okay, I may have embellished a bit with that last paragraph there.
Update! Hurricane Trump: libtards are helpless to the fury of its passing.
Perhaps, in the Headline Hall of Fame, alongside “Headless body in topless bar,” we can add a new entry to display for generations to come. This week a Washington Post editorial declared: “Another hurricane is about to batter our coast. Trump is complicit.”
The point was that hurricanes are caused or intensified by the man-made climate change that we’ve experienced in recent decades, and that Trump ignores that supposedly obvious fact, bringing about destruction. Never mind that, between Wilma in 2005 and Harvey in 2017, no major hurricane (Category 3 or higher) made landfall in the continental United States. That’s the longest such hiatus ever recorded.
Never mind that, according to the National Oceanographic and Atmospheric Administration, 40 major hurricanes hit the United States in the 55-year period between 1906 and 1960. In the following 55 years, during the era of global warming, the number was 26. The number in the worst categories, Categories 4 and 5, fell from 12 to 5.
This week, California Governor Jerry Brown is hosting a conference of people involved in what’s called the Climate Resistance. As noted by the Washington Times, “The massive three-day bash hosted by Mr. Brown will feature top Democrats, liberal megadonors, Obama administration figures, international leaders, green energy, Silicon Valley, Hollywood celebrities, and Al Gore.”
This follows state legislation signed by Brown requiring utilities to get all their electricity from “zero-carbon” sources by 2045. Massive expansions of hydropower and nuclear power are off the table, so that means relying mainly on intermittent sources like wind (which works only when the wind blows) and solar (which works only when the sun shines).
California officials claim the state currently gets about a third of its electricity from “renewable” sources. In June, the price of electricity in California was 65.3 percent higher than the national average. The difference would be greater except for the fact that some 41 other states have their own, smaller scams driving up electricity prices by requiring electricity consumers to buy expensive, unreliable wind and solar power.
Jerry Brown just wants to do to America and the world what he and his fellow environmentalists have already done to California.
Well, naturally. The totalitarian program only works if we’re ALL subject to it.
Always, whether the problem is warming or cooling, the solution is greater control of the economy, and of all human activity, by politicians and bureaucrats. They’re the only ones smart enough to save us.
Today, in the time of the Climate Resistance, “addressing climate change” is a euphemism for denying billions of people access to affordable energy—with victims ranging from working-class Americans to the world’s poorest in sub-Saharan Africa. And while the vulnerable suffer, wealth and power is transferred to the likes of biofuel processors and the bureaucrats of the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) and the European Union.
Real people pay a real price when policies are based on ignorance of history and a half-understanding of science, on irrational fear and sensationalism, and on the latest kookery from the media and political class that stands to benefit when people freak out.
Oh, it isn’t based on any of those things; that’s giving them too much credit for “good intentions.” What it’s really based on is the same old thing it always is with the Left: lust for power.
Few outside their own little circus will argue that the media and politicians aren’t full of shit. Nobody will argue that Donald Trump is the fulfillment of Diogenes’ quest, but he questioned the shit, mocked the shit-peddlers, and presented an alternative to shit gone stale. When he told Clinton during a debate that she belonged in jail, he was saying what many Americans justifiably believed but were never going to hear from the mainstream shit-peddlers. When he said build a wall, he challenged a consensus that welcomed any brand of immigration “reform” as long as it welcomed any brand of illegal immigrant.
His willingness to say things many people believe, but which never make it to the mainstream, more than his positions on the issues, propelled Trump’s candidacy. Trump’s support came not from dispassionate intellectual analysis, but because he appealed to strong emotions, the strongest of which was: stick it to those assholes in the media and government.
Trump won. So much for the power of mainstream narratives; you can’t fool all the people all the time. Neck-deep in their own manure, the shitocracy went into paroxysms of puerile petulance. Their response: shovel more shit.
Once a person recognizes the shitocracy for what it is, there’s no reversal. You don’t say to yourself one day: “The media and the politicians are lying sacks of filth,” and the next day: “I think I’ll go back to believing them.”
Nope. Ain’t no unseeing this shit. The DC septic tank is overflowing; we’re probably gonna need Roto Rooter before all’s said and done.
Francis sends this along:
A dangling participle walks into a bar. Enjoying a cocktail and chatting with the bartender, the evening passes pleasantly.
A bar was walked into by the passive voice.
An oxymoron walked into a bar, and the silence was deafening.
Two quotation marks walk into a “bar.”
A malapropism walks into a bar, looking for all intensive purposes like a wolf in cheap clothing, muttering epitaphs and casting dispersions on his magnificent other, who takes him for granite.
Hyperbole totally rips into this insane bar and absolutely destroys everything.
A question mark walks into a bar?
A non sequitur walks into a bar. In a strong wind, even turkeys can fly.
Papyrus and Comic Sans walk into a bar. The bartender says, “Get out — we don’t serve your type.”
A mixed metaphor walks into a bar, seeing the handwriting on the wall but hoping to nip it in the bud.
A comma splice walks into a bar, it has a drink and then leaves.
Three intransitive verbs walk into a bar. They sit. They converse. They depart.
A synonym strolls into a tavern.
At the end of the day, a cliché walks into a bar — fresh as a daisy, cute as a button, and sharp as a tack.
A run-on sentence walks into a bar it starts flirting. With a cute little sentence fragment.
Falling slowly, softly falling, the chiasmus collapses to the bar floor.
A figure of speech literally walks into a bar and ends up getting figuratively hammered.
An allusion walks into a bar, despite the fact that alcohol is its Achilles heel.
The subjunctive would have walked into a bar, had it only known.
A misplaced modifier walks into a bar owned by a man with a glass eye named Ralph.
The past, present, and future walked into a bar. It was tense.
A dyslexic walks into a bra.
A verb walks into a bar, sees a beautiful noun, and suggests they conjugate. The noun declines.
An Oxford comma walks into a bar, where it spends the evening watching the television getting drunk and smoking cigars.
A simile walks into a bar, as parched as a desert.
A gerund and an infinitive walk into a bar, drinking to forget.
A hyphenated word and a non-hyphenated word walk into a bar and the bartender nearly chokes on the irony.
Fran says: “Found on Facebook. Exceptionally useful, which should make me take back…well, some of the nasty things I’ve said about Facebook.” Ditto, with bells on. I like the “malapropism,” “mixed metaphor,” and “hyperbole” ones best, myself.
I’m assigned to the 52nd Gender Fluid Battalion.
Infighting has occurred whenever hard work needs to be done. When heavy lifting is required many start identifying as female. When cooking is required they identify as male.
— Point E. Elbo (@ElboPoint) July 3, 2018
It’s getting mighty hard to parody them, but Surber just made a damned fine job of it.
Writing newspaper editorials is an exercise in exasperating futility. They have scant impact. 243 newspapers endorsed Hillary. 20 endorsed Donald John Trump. Who won?
To those still laboring at a craft that last had impact in the 19th century, I draw upon my 27 years of experience to offer this generic editorial on whomever President Trump nominates for the Supreme Court.
You may cut and paste it, and your boss will not notice the difference.
The Senate Must Reject This Monster
President Trump — a vain, deranged, and impulsive man elected by Russia and not a majority of Americans — has nominated the worst judicial candidate since Roger Brooke Taney, the chief justice who authored the Dred Scott decision. [Nominee’s name] may be worse. Not only does [he or she] view African-Americans as chattel, but women as second-class citizens!
Most Republicans want to return America to the oppressive and conformist days of the 1950s when everyone had a job instead of welfare!
President Trump has nominated a person who wants to return to the slave days of 1850s!
This would be Armageddon for our Constitution. Women would be forced to seek reproduction freedom from back-alley butchers again. Republicans would bar minorities and millennials from voting. People would be allowed to own as many guns as they like without registering them; vaginas would be more regulated than assault weapons!
They’re so comically predictable by now it pretty much writes itself, in a way. And damned if I didn’t just realize that Surber isn’t in Ye Old Blogrolle, which I remedied with a quickness. I really need to give that thing a good going-over soon.
Dream a little dream update! Elsewhere Surber explores a topic I mentioned here not long ago myself, but in much greater detail than I did.
In addition to being an obscene poison pen writer, Kevin D. Williamson is sloppy. He penned an ode to Harley-Davidson because it is standing up to “The Man” by shipping more production overseas to protest President Trump’s tariffs.
Williamson missed the real story. Harley-Davidson owes its existence to tariffs imposed by President Reagan in 1983. Ingratitude is hard to see when you are a Never Trumper basking in the glow of conservative victories that President Trump earned.
Harley now has plants all over the world. Harley, Williamson and the National Review ignored Reagan’s actions and words. They bet against America. They call it free trade, but given the low wages paid in Thailand, where Harley is building a plant, maybe we should call it slave trade.
Williamson wrote, “unilateral free trade is an idea far too radical for our current timid national mood.”
Unilateral free trade is economic euthanasia.
“Free trade” is a chimera, a unicorn. As long as there are nation-states with governments pursuing competing interests, it will not exist—it cannot exist.
“Why Aren’t Feminists Applauding the Highly Accomplished Women on Trump’s SCOTUS Short List?” Because they aren’t liberals, DUH.
Inspired by how much fun Aesop seems to have with these dang things.
Why is it always the homeliest and dumpiest among ’em who just can’t refrain from getting themselves all nekkid in public, and will find any excuse at all to sound high-minded about indulging their exhibitionist kink?
At my #Cambridge College's end of term supervisor dinner tonight wearing feminist fashion by @theuniformtalks #JennaYoung – with some added marker pen! Cambridge supports #MyBodyMyChoice. Do you? #feminism #liberty #DeedsNotWords pic.twitter.com/JWZuxWQdn6
— Victoria Bateman (@vnbateman) June 12, 2018
Well, okay, I guess for a middle-aged Feminazi college professor, she ain’t all THAT bad, really. Considering the beached-whale gravy boats stripping off at Lefty protest-cum-riots from sea to shining sea in our own nation, we’ve all surely beheld worse. But still: nope, ain’t no unseeing that.
I have to believe that someday, a reasonably cute Lefty chick willing to let ’em breathe in broad daylight will surface, thus negating the endless parade of blubberous, screeching, pink-mohawked tuna schooners and making our long national nightmare worth all the suffering that led up to her welcome emergence. I hereby pledge to do my little all in securing her internet-sensationhood, should that frabjous day arrive while I’m still young enough to give a damn.
Thanks for nuthin’ to Heartiste, who quips: “Forget it, Jake, it’s Vaginatown.“
Aesop kicks a few ideas around.
Starting with the second deportation, the method of repatriation used by ICE in all cases should be by trebuchet.
Then after they’re returned to the land of their forefathers at a few hundred FPS, they’ll probably still have one unshattered femur left to limp back home, and stay there.
I’m not terribly worried about a day without a Mexican; we had a hundred and fifty years without a Mexican, and it was called America. And it would be a lot catchier title if we renamed it Another Day Without Setting $318M Of Your Taxes On Fire, and made it a 24/7/365/forever national celebration.
Frankly, they’re lucky we don’t cut the crap, and simply authorize ICE to substitute land mines for the wall, until it’s built. Then they could just deport everyone missing a leg as presumptively here illegally.
You’ll notice there’s not a lot of Norks running through minefields to get to South Korea. And we’ve got a metric f**kton of the things just sitting in storage, so we might as well put them to some good use.
And while we’re up, let’s do one more thing: announce that henceforth, anyone ever deported for entering the US illegally will be banned for life from ever visiting the US on a visa, or ever emigrating here legally, and refused any amnesty for cause, even if it’s someday offered to those already here. Caught once, banned for life. Caught here a second time: Fly Air Trebuchet home. Easy peasy.
Works for me.
Obviously Aesop is being highly satirical here, but it does draw a line under the depths of absurdity to which this grotesque national hissy-fit has plummetted. It all calls a few thoughts to mind:
None of this, not a single aspect of it, is anything new. It’s a hoary old rerun right down to the last niggling detail: the smug assertion of moral superiority; the overwrought bleats of “Hitler” and “Nazi” and “Holocaust” and “genocide” hurled at normal Americans with legitimate and reasonable concerns; the distortion and/or falsification of the historical record, along with appeals to Constitutional “rights” found nowhere in the Constitution on behalf of non-citizens outside its protection; the inflation of rather mundane events of little import or relevance to most Americans into a national CRISIS!! requiring immediate and drastic action in response; the use of children as props to further a political agenda; the stampede to collusion of milksop Republicans; the brazen deception and manipulative appeals to emotion; the marginalization of mainstream thought and the mainstreaming of radical lunacy; the risible claims of near-universal “bipartisan” agreement; the establishment media’s tireless effort as cheerleaders and propagandists rather than evenhanded reporters of events.
The whole shitfling is very much Swampland business as usual, in hopes of accomplishing some by-now familiar goals: thwarting the agenda Trump was elected specifically to implement, his removal from office by illegitimate means, and a stern reminder for normal Americans of their subordinate, subjugated role as the ones footing the bill for Leftist folly without complaint.
Oh, it’s a fairy tale all right.
Once upon a time, the FBI said some thugs planned to rob a bank in town. Thugs are always looking to rob banks. They try all the time. But at this particular time, the FBI was hyper-focused on potential bank robberies in this particular town.
The best way to prevent the robbery — which is the goal, after all — would be for the FBI to alert all the banks in town. “Be on high alert for suspicious activity,” the FBI could tell the banks. “Report anything suspicious to us. We don’t want you to get robbed.”
Instead, in this fractured fairytale, the FBI followed an oddly less effective, more time-consuming, costlier approach. It focused on just one bank. And, strangely, it picked the bank that was least likely to be robbed because nobody thought it would ever get elected president — excuse me, I mean, because it had almost no cash on hand. (Why would robbers want to rob the bank with no cash?)
Read on; the Last Real Journalist waxes ever more clever with her premise from there, winding up with a closer that makes the rubble bounce.
Sharyl Attkisson has more integrity in one discarded toenail clipping than almost all the rest of her “journalist” colleagues combined. In fact, referring to them as her colleagues feels uncomfortably close to slander, since what they do for a living has little or nothing in common with her work.
CF-regular gadfly Mark Mattis presents one.
North Korea is going to need significant assistance to transition successfully from a military economy to a civil economy. I would like to suggest that to help them, the US should cut all funds to the United Nations, give that money instead to the Salvation Army, and request that they use it to help North Korea make the change. The assistance will need to be distributed across the country, and the North Korean military is well positioned to do that work. Giving current military members something important to do is a critical part of the transition, so this helps in more ways than one. And they would be getting some of the aid as well, so this also makes their lives better in the process.
The Salvation Army command structure is set up well to be able to interface with the North Korean military leadership. In North Korea, Kim should put the Salvation Army leadership at the same level as the heads of his military, reporting directly to him. The Salvation Army leadership would identify what aid was coming, but the tasking to distribute that would be done by the North Korean military. The Salvation Army should embed a small number of people at the final distribution level, but the actual distribution would be done by the Korean soldiers. The embeds would make suggestions, and report up to their leadership as to any problems in the field. Their leadership would have direct access to Kim, who knows how to take care of problems with his employees. I do not expect much graft, fraud, or corruption after the first few cases are dealt with. And the Salvation Army leadership in North Korea would also report directly to Secretary of State Pompeo, who would be able to realign things appropriately if any backsliding occurs. In my not so humble opinion, that would be “Win, Win, Win!”
I’m sure there are probably eight bazillion reasons why it couldn’t work, some of them possibly even sound ones. But man, the way it would frost shitlib nuts makes it worth considering all by itself.
A Schlichter column from earlier in the week explains how to properly defeat liberal arguments.
Let’s look as some of liberals’ favorite cheats, and how you can defeat them.
The Cheat: “Jesusplain Those Rubes!”
When in doubt, play the messiah card! It’s always a pleasure to have some atheist hipster explain to you how Christ was a socialist SJW who was ultra-open-minded about what bathroom people should use and who demands you give the government money so it can hand your cash over to deadbeats. I often wonder if this gambit ever works, if anyone ever thinks, “Gosh, I guess if @ImpeachTrumpHillarysHot says my Savior hates AR15s, then I better disarm myself in the face of liberal-enabled crime and liberal-supported tyranny.”
How to Beat It: You could explain the whole Christianity thing, but it’s easier to just tell the liberals to go pound sand.
The Cheat: “You are [Something Terrible] for thinking that!”
Racist, sexist, homophobic, Nickelback-loving – there’s not a slur or slander you won’t be called for standing up for the principles that made America great. But somewhere along the line, certain conservatives – let’s just say they tend to try to sell you cruises where you can mingle with the who’s who of the Fredocon elite – started trying to please liberals, seeking to prove that, “No, I’m not that horrible thing you just called me!” Big mistake. Of course, that never works. Liberals themselves are all of the things they call you, and they know it, and they don’t care, because their caring and concern and compassion for all the groups they accuse you of oppressing is just a pose. Watch how quickly they go from claiming you hate gay people to accusing you of being gay because calling a conservative gay is an insult that is supposed to blow our button-down bourgeois minds.
How to Beat It: You could deny the charges, but it’s easier to just tell the liberals to go pound sand.
Hmm. I do believe I’m seeing a pattern beginning to develop here. Kurt’s closer is a real gem too.
Only government would force cigarette manufacturers to change their long-standard, easily-understood nomenclature from Regular, Light, Extra Light, and Menthol to Red, Blue, Gold, and Green in the interest of “simplifying” things.
Diplomad ponders the imponderable.
Before I reach the perhaps unjustified conclusion that the “resistance” is just a “tale told by an idiot,” let me ask a few questions, and make some observations about this bold and virtuous resistance.
If Donald Trump is literally Adolf Hitler, why would a member of the “resistance” identify himself/herself/zheself as a member? Strikes me that is a clear violation of the rules of resistance to a repressive regime. Did Max Manus put such a sign in front of his house to shout out his defiance of the Nazis and Vidkun Quisling? Did Anne Frank? Seems an odd thing to do if the Gestapo is out and about.
What does this “resistance” do? I know what the resistance did in Norway and Yugoslavia, but this one? What does it do? I mean, of course, aside from going to notoriously right-wing Starbucks to demand free bathroom usage. What exactly are they resisting? OK, I understand that just like Hitler, Trump is strongly pro-Israel, has a Jewish daughter and son-in-law, and, just like Hitler, used the power of the state to bring back three non-white hostages from North Korea. Yes, I see the similarities, but . . . well, now that I think about it, I guess Trump is actually worse than Hitler because Trump, unlike Hitler, is not a vegetarian!
But, but I still remain puzzled.
It seems odd that many members of the “resistance” want the state to take away all of our guns. The resistance hates Trump so much they want him and his henchmen to have our weapons. I guess the resistance to Hitler did the same thing, no? Maybe I’ve got my history mixed up, I don’t know, perhaps the thunder and lightning are throwing off my aging brain waves.
So to sum it up for the resistance: The anti-semite Trump is the best friend Israel has ever had. The racist Trump has instituted policies that have produced the lowest unemployment figures in decades for black and hispanic Americans. The woman-hating Trump had a woman running his campaign (no, not Mrs. Putin), has a woman as Ambassador at the UN, another as the head of DHS, another as head of Education, yet another as White House spokesman, and now has made a woman the head of the CIA. The oligarch Trump has instituted tax and other policies that are putting more money into more ordinary people’s pockets than has happened in many years.
All just like Hitler did…
There you go again, trying to make sense out of the nonsense spewed by people who have NO sense. I’m gonna just stick with “a tale told by idiots,” myself.
It might not be such a bad idea, really, but I don’t see it happening.
America is being made great again in the wake of Obama’s failed presidency, which in hindsight already appears as nothing more than the absurd climax of affirmative action gone off the rails. Trump has wiped the floor with his legacy while building an incredible one of his own.
Now, I propose, is the perfect time for the American people to seal their own deal: let’s make a campaign ourselves to expire terms such as “Democrat,” “liberal,” “leftist,” and “progressive,” and let’s call it what it is: totalitarianism.
He ain’t entirely wrong, of course. But “totalitarian” is a wee mite unwieldy, shall we say. Not to mention that I doubt most average workaday Joes out there even know what it means, or care.
I’ve opined myself about the near-uselessness nowadays of the old terms like “liberal,” “conservative,” etc. In fact, those two in particular have come to signify pretty much the opposite of their old, long-accepted definitions—a direct result of the Left’s hijacking of the world “liberal” not as a clarification of their intentions, but as camouflage for them. If there’s anything remotely liberal about unending expansion of a bureaucratic central behemoth’s control over each and every one of us, I sure wish someone would explain to me what it might be.
I coined the term “Progressivist” and use it pretty extensively here, because I am confident in my readers’ familiarity with the history of the so-called Progressive movement, its origins, and its sinister agenda. But I expect that my use of “Progressivist” as a sort of shorthand for the Left’s fetishized continuation and extension of the original Progressives’ statist, tyrannical program might not be properly understood by most folks out there. On the other hand, when someone says “liberal” everybody pretty much gets the idea, at least for now. Cohen still makes some pretty good points, though:
Now that Trump is midway through his second year as president, I believe we can now announce without fear of the Post-Orwellian Thought Police: the enemies of President Trump are the enemies of the family, the Constitution, morality, and sanity. They are collectively the enemies of our nation’s future, who actively seek to flood the nation with third-world refugees while disarming the native population. In a word, President Trump’s enemies are barbarians within the gates, and they have gotten this far because they do a good job of weeping when retaliation looms. We now must update our terminology if we are consciously to move ahead: the words “liberal,” “progressive,” “Democrat” are what “National Socialist” are to “Nazi.” They are a lot of misleading verbiage.
Oh, I don’t know how misleading they really are at this point. They were once, and were intended to be. But people are beginning to see through the smokescreen more clearly than they ever have before; the fog is lifting at last as the inevitable failure of Left governance makes itself felt more keenly, leaving behind only the revolting stench of pure corruption. Cohen goes on to reel off this great line:
The liberal agenda exists solely because the people liberals are hell-bent on attacking are too busy living their lives to bother shooting them all.
Heh. For now, I suppose. We’ll see how long that holds up. Cohen’s closing recommendation is right on the money too.
You don’t concede the Left’s premises. Not ever, not even once, not for any reason.
Speaking of silly women inviting snakes into the fold, let’s address a recent essay published by National Review, titled “Conservatives Are Wrong to Dismiss Feminism.” It is written by one Sarah Quinlan, a woman who, we are told is a “front-page contributor to RedState.” This is intended as a credential, when in fact, it is rather more like calling someone a former lead engineer for the Hindenburg. But one supposes it was the best the likes of Ms. Quinlan could do under the circumstances.
One of Quinlan’s unlisted associations, however, is her sometime affiliation with one of the sadder outings in NeverTrump history, the so-called Buckley Club, an infected little pimple of an organization that knew so little of its namesake that it once mistook one of Buckley’s favorite phrases—“immanentizing the eschaton”—for a conspiracy theorist slogan.
Holt goes on to dismantle Quinlan’s convoluted mess of an argument pretty thoroughly, culminating in this stinging closer:
I’m sure she’ll get around to making a mockery of her other conservative principles in time, but we needn’t waste any more exertion waiting on her to do it.
At best, Quinlan’s piece is a vapid extended emotivist wail in search of a shoulder and a pint of vanilla ice cream to dash itself against. At worst, it is a hostile ultimatum that the Right must trade Trump for Teen Vogue, and transform William F. Buckley into William F. Becky-with-the-good-hair so that it can attract the votes of women whose character validates the assumptions of every misogynist who ever lived. Either way, it deserves to be rejected in the strongest possible terms.
And so, I will do just that. Conservatism needs feminism like National Review needed Sarah Quinlan’s byline: only as a tool for suicide. NRO’s brand needs to be hospitalized and any dangerous objects need to be taken away from the editors after this. As for True Conservatism (™), after the publication of this article, it will need a rape kit, which, unlike the thousands that Quinlan complains remain untouched, we have been obliged to process.
Ouch. Better put some ice on that, sweetie.