Cold Fury

Harshing your mellow since 9/01

Oh, irony!

Totally lost on them, of course.

RUSH: This John Lewis business, Trump… I’m telling you, folks, the guy… They just can’t intimidate him, they can’t scare him, they can’t shut him up. He’s back tweeting about John Lewis. Now, you would think that after the press barrage of the last couple of days their effort to shame Trump for, “How dare you attack this man who was beat up on the Pettus Bridge in Selma 50 years ago? How dare you attack him! How dare you?” Trying to shame Trump. “You attack John Lewis, civil rights icon?” So Trump tweets out, “John Lewis lied. He said mine is the first inauguration he’s not gonna attend.

“He didn’t attend the George W. Bush inauguration. John Lewis lied.” Can you say the media is having a cow? My gosh, “Trump doubled down on it!” And the John Lewis office had put out a statement: Yes, that’s true. Congressman Lewis did boycott the inauguration of George W. Bush because he also didn’t think that election was legitimate. Trump was right. So this is the Trump pattern. Do something, the press has a cow, and Trump doubles down. He doubled down. And then, do you know he had a meeting yesterday with Martin Luther King’s son at Trump Tower?

Martin Luther King’s son entered Trump Tower, got in the elevator, went up, met with Trump. They prayed. And Martin Luther King III came out and talked about how it was very constructive. They prayed, they talked about Martin Luther King Jr. and his great work, and the left is having collective heart attacks. And now Martin Luther King III’s a sellout. “How dare he! In the middle of this John Lewis conversation, how dare he side with Trump against John Lewis?” Who, again, was beat up on the Edmund Pettus Bridge.

Yeah, beat upside the head, 50 years ago on the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, by a bunch of Democrats. Bull Connor. It was Democrats who turned the fire hoses on John Lewis. It was the Democrats that beat John Lewis upside the head. It was Democrats turned the dogs loose on the protesters. It was the Democrats that made up the KKK and still do.

The Democrat Socialists haven’t been this pissed off since a Republican freed the slaves. All of which would go right over the head of a hopeless, barely-sentient dolt like John Lewis, of course.


Holidays officially over

It is with great heaviness of heart and something close to real grief that I take down the good old Scrooge Picard theme every year. It’s one reason I haven’t done much posting the last week; I just couldn’t bear the thought of it. As long as I stayed away from here, Picard would remain up, and the holiday season was still in some small way extant. The long dark night of January and February was knocking at the door, but I just wasn’t into opening the damned thing.

But like it or not, the fun, warmth, and peaceful reflection of the holidays is well and truly over; the wonderful music is off the radio, the cheerily colorful lights and decorations are put away until next year, and now we settle in for the long, grim haul of winter. There’s actually snow on the ground here in the sunny South, and temperatures this week have struggled to break out of the teens, although it’s supposed to be up to 75 this weekend, thank God.

I dunno, I always loved winter best as a young ‘un, but the older I get, the more miserable it seems to me. I was watching a neighborhood kid ride his dirt bike through the fresh snow the other day, just sliding and brodeying and blasting up roostertalls all up and down the street. He was having a ball, and I can remember doing the exact same thing when I was his age, and loving every minute of it. Now, my only thought was, “Lord, that looks AWFUL. I would no more do that shit than…”

Getting old ain’t for pussies. Except when it is. Could be worse, though; I could be in Buffalo.

Or Chicago, heaven forbid. And just like that, I suddenly feel a lot better about things.


Ahh, Finland

I’ve been to Finland a couple or three times, still have friends that I keep in touch with there (including one guy who has all the Playboys CD covers tattooed up and down his arms), and I can tell you that to anyone who knows those wild, crazy, and tough-as-nails Finns, this should come as no surprise at all.


Rock on, Finlandia.


A different take on Pizzagate

I mean, completely different.

Pizzagate represents another, slightly less detectable shift, and frankly, I can’t say that this one displeases me. Indeed, I’ll make a confession: There’s a part of me—the dark, nasty part that I only allow out every now and then and only for the basest of reasons—that is taking a bit of delight in seeing the D.C. leftist elites at the center of this non-scandal having their lives turned upside down because a horde of trolls has decided to misrepresent a bunch of pictures, paintings, and flippant comments in order to spin them as proof of a “pedo” ring.

The cloddish sleuths of Pizzagate have been egged on by the fact that many of the leftist elites who hover in or around Comet Ping Pong (the “epicenter” of the supposed conspiracy) enjoy showing off how “evolved” they are by being cheeky little monkeys when it comes to mixing sexual imagery and children. “Oh, look how very progressive we are. We run a pizza shop for kids, but we book sexually explicit music acts and post violent and lewd pics on our Instagram! Look at my art collection; the sexual images of children prove how fearless I am! A night of ‘spirit cooking’ would frighten those superstitious evangelical throwbacks, but I get the joke, because I’m an impish little centaur who absolutely loves having fun with dark imagery in order to show off how non-demon-haunted my superior mind is.”

Make no mistake—these leftists, these targets of the Pizzagate gumshoes, are indeed misunderstood by their tormentors. Their “cheekiness” regarding kids, sex, Satanism, etc. is not proof of a “pedo ring”; it’s just leftists wallowing in the last remaining sty that has yet to be cleaned out by their own PC morality police. Invoking imagery of children, sex, and the “dark arts” is the only remaining bit of “edginess” they’re allowed, the only time they can playact at being Lenny Bruce. So yes, the “cheeky monkeys” of the left have been misread by a group of conspiracy-minded oafs who have queered the fun by spinning every Comet Ping Pong-related word and image into something diabolical…and I hate myself for saying this, but good. The left has been doing this to the right for years—taking every off-the-cuff comment, every word uttered in the heat of the moment, every successful or failed attempt at humor, on the part of conservatives, and spinning it to “prove” how secretly racist, sexist, and homophobic we are. What the left has done to conservatives, especially in the internet age, is Pizzagate exactly. Everything we do, everything we say, is interpreted in the worst possible way in order to paint us as vile creatures with malicious intent. With Pizzagate, some high-profile leftists are finally getting a taste of what that’s like.

Hopefully, they’ll have many more opportunities over the coming days and years to have their own bullshit crammed down their throats by the shovelful.


Civics lesson, anyone?

SE Cupp whimpers from the typically prone, cheeks-spread Cuckservative position about Trump; Bill reminds her of a little something she seems to be glossing over:

Trump is a political neophyte in every sense. Time and again he has proved he’d need a basic civics lesson before taking the oath of office.

This, from noted Kookservative S.E. Cupp, is typical of the sort of steaming nuggets Kookservative commentators love to litter their prose with.

She is, whether she realizes it or not, actively working to get Hillary Clinton elected president. Since she makes no mention of Clinton needing a “basic civics lesson” before taking the oath of office, one must presume that she doesn’t think Clinton needs one.

On what fucking planet is that, you blart-brained nitwit?

Here’s the “basic civics lesson” HIllary Clinton needs, and most definitely before taking office.

Thirty years to life.

“Restore” conservatism—elect the treasonous felon!

Hey, makes sense to me—for certain values of “sense,” that is. Ace takes it from there:

They talk all day about “Principles,” but discard the most basic principles — such as keeping a proven lawbreaker out of the White House, or just honestly admitting which candidate they’re actually supporting to their readers — as convenience may recommend.

In fact, right now they’re howling about Ted Cruz’ “calculations” in endorsing Trump, while not admitting their own pose of “Being Against Both Equally” is in fact a completely contrived lie they’ve calculated will permit them to agitate for their candidate (Hillary) while not compromising their career prospects within Conservatism, Inc. too much.

How much can I agitate for Hillary while still retaining plausible deniability?

How much can I agitate for Hillary to appease my anti-Trump donors while still keeping enough pro-Trump readers that my anti-Trump donors will feel they’re getting enough eyeballs per dollar of their patronage?

I think I’m out. And I think I’m defecting to the Democrats after this because, if I have a choice between one group of corrupt lying scumbags who think their (much over-vaunted) position gives them special rights in this democracy unavailable to the commoners, then I’ll side with the party where I get the least social grief.

If I’m to get nothing I want from either party — not even the minimum respect of being offered the truth — then I’ll go with the party where I don’t have to make apologies for my political leanings at parties.

If (they’re) both liars and elitist scumbags who think they have Right to Rule, what the fuck do I care which of them is in charge?

Annnnd bingo. Right there it is. I’ve been saying it for years now.


The more you know…

You thought perhaps I was kidding about the Gary Johnson e-mails?

From: Gary Johnson
Subject: 13 Percent!

It’s Happening!

A new Quinnipiac poll shows Gov. Gary Johnson at 13%, within the margin of error of the 15% threshold for the debates.

That’s a full 3 points higher than the last Quinnipiac poll just a few weeks ago.

What we are doing is working!

However, the same poll shows that 53% of voters haven’t heard enough about our campaign to form an opinion.

However, I have, bub. Unfortunately for you. Congratulations on this stunning milestone on your way to…wherever it is you’re going, though.


Won’t somebody help this poor woman?

A different perspective on Sick Hillary.

What the heck is wrong with her daughter, Chelsea, that she is not stepping in and telling her mom, the campaign, and the entire political world that her mother is sick and that she should not be put through all of this? Chelsea’s just a few years younger than me, with children of her own. While our financial and social positions are light years apart, Chelsea and I are in the same boat when it comes to having older parents with clear health problems and finding ourselves in that transition period where we start becoming caregivers to the people in our lives who once gave such good care to us.

Well, except that professional politicians at Sick Hillary’s level, most of whom are driven to spend almost all their time grubbing for power, have to hire it done. So if Chelsea is to become a caregiver to the person that once “gave such good care” to her, she’s going to have to find whatever nanny or attendant or other staff was paid by her biological parents to do it.

I get why all the political operatives aren’t saying anything and are blindly ignoring the ugly truth about Hillary’s collapsing health: it was her turn to be the nominee and the nominee she now is and their finances and futures depend on her staying in this race.

Plus, if they said something and managed somehow to ruin her chance at the ultimate power she’s longed and worked her whole life for in so doing, she’d have them killed.

I get why the media is working overtime to cover up events like this bizarre collapse of hers in New York: ideologically and emotionally most reporters are committed to dragging Hillary across the finish line however they can. I get why all the people who donated to her campaign need her to keep going: they expect a return on their investment, like the nights in the Lincoln Bedroom they had the first time the Clintons lived on Pennsylvania Avenue.

But I don’t get why Chelsea says nothing, watching her mom’s body give out on her in such a spectacularly degrading and demeaning way while cell phone cameras capture it all. That woman in the blue pantsuit losing her shoe in public is not just a presidential candidate or a gravy train for Chelsea: that is HER MOM.

Well. In a manner of speaking.

Where is Chelsea’s compassion and love for her mom? Not her mother’s ambitions. Not her family’s quest to retake the White House they seem to feel belongs to them. Not her political party’s hunger for power. Where is Chelsea Clinton’s basic, primal, human need for her mom to be healthy, safe, and okay? Why isn’t she demanding her mom get the care she so obviously needs?

Ah, but see, there’s where you’re making your mistake: you’re assuming actual human emotion and empathy in people who have none. That would include Chelsea, who’s spent her whole life in the toxic atmosphere of professional politics and likely has as little of those things as her godawful parents do.


Say yes to tacos!

You guys know by now that I’m all in for Trump and all, and support his immigration program completely. But a man with integrity can admit when there are inconsistencies in his beliefs, and carry on despite them with some sort of equanimity. It’s all about the diversity, people—real diversity, not the cheap-grace, hypocritically misnomered pseudo-variety peddled by the Left.

So yes, I am all in with this too.

On Wednesday, the founder of Latinos for Trump took to MSNBC to proclaim that if the immigration system isn’t reformed, “You’re gonna have taco trucks on every corner.” To which one can only respond, “Is that a promise?”

Tacos are delicious and, as anyone who has experienced the joy and wonder that comes only from the mobile kitchens can attest, the best and most excellent tacos on the planet are those that come from taco trucks.

So no matter what nativists like Marco Gutierrez have to say, a booming taco truck market would be good for America in every way possible. From providing jobs and lunch to economic mobility and taco mobility, we need to do everything we can to ensure this vision becomes a reality. Here are but seven reasons we need a chicken in every pot and a taco truck on every corner.

His reasoning is sound, his specification and categorizing of it inarguable. Like I said, all in over here. In fact, a friend of mine has a taco truck, and if he’s working tonight I just might look him up. My favorite of his seven reasons? Tough to narrow it down, but this statement is, umm, delicious: “We all love avocados, except for those of us who are wrong…” Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes.


Severus Cruz? Ted Snape?

Y’all know by now that I’m quite a ways from being a Cruz fan. But since I’m definitely a Harry Potter fan, I just had to throw this out there anyway.

Snape is a fascinating member of the “Harry Potter” cast. We know without a doubt that he’s important; clearly he will play a key role of some kind in the final resolution. J.K. Rowling keeps us constantly guessing, however, about what that role will be. Cruz is very much like this. He’s clearly a major player on the conservative field, still assessing his hand and calculating his moves. But will Cruz emerge in the end as the hero, or the anti-hero? It’s exceedingly difficult to tell.

Both figures have a kind of maddening mystery to them. Snape is imposing, ingenious, calculating, and cloaked. He has tremendous gravitas and enormous discipline, which combine to make him a powerful presence at Hogwarts. Rowling makes him a master of “occlumency,” an art by which a wizard seals his mind against other sorcerers who might wish to read his thoughts. The point is clear enough: Snape is an absolutely closed book.

Cruz, likewise, undeniably affects a kind of greatness. He almost never comes across as peevish or trivial, but like Snape, he is a closed book, ruthlessly disciplined but clearly calculating. Some find his Man of Principle demeanor inspiring, while others find it grating or disturbing. It’s especially problematic when it bleeds over into his political choices—a man who believes he can do no wrong is apt to make mistakes. Even when wrong though, he is clearly a force, and even those who condemn his tactics generally concede he is decidedly not a liberal.

No, probably not. But he’d definitely be right at home in Slytherin House, should he ever decide to give the Sorting Hat a whirl.


“Mic…consider yourself dropped”

It’s not that liberals don’t know anything. It’s that so much of what they know isn’t so.

I did my bit today. I sat with the OR resident leftists- a couple of hearts on their sleeves white folks who keep telling me how horrible Republicans are and why I should agree with them that religious people are the source of every problem in the world, and that American police love to kill black people.

Well, this black man let them have it. I walked them through the history of the Republican party, the speeches and writings of Frederick Douglas…and I was just getting started. I told them who founded the KKK, and which states in the South were for segregation and which party their governments belonged to. I kept going, indices of economy, family stability, education of black people in America and how that has declined since welfare. Some idiot in the corner piped up about how blacks in WW2 were not educated and welfare and the 60’s had changed all that. Well, I happen to have a picture of a Tuskegee P51 Mustang as my laptop wallpaper…

They probably had no clue that the Tuskegee Airmen even existed, much less what a P-51 is.

On a side note, I’m still trying to fight off the worst summer cold in history, so posting will continue to be, shall we say, spotty and inconsistent. In fact, I might lapse into downright incoherence if I finally get desperate enough to take a Benadryl for it. That stuff works great and all, but it does tend to knock me for a loop, I do admit it.

(Via Ed)


Wherein I helpfully solve a problem for Scott Adams

No, it’s not about Trump.

I’ve been trying for several months to buy a Chevy Truck, for a variety of functional and recreational purposes.

It turns out you can’t do that. Yes, I was surprised too.

To be fair, I do see people buying Chevy trucks all the time, but I call them victims, not customers. That’s different than what I’m trying to do. I’m trying to identify the truck I want, then buy it, without being a victim. I’m aiming for more of a “customer” situation.

You think that’s easy?

Try looking at the thousands of options for each truck. Then notice how little you know about each option. The infinite options guarantee that you will feel bad about whatever you pick. Science says people get anxious when they have too many choices. Chevy gives you infinite choices for features, and most of those choices matter, because trucks are tools. So there’s no real way to be happy about buying a truck because you’ll always think you could have done better picking options. And you would be right. No one can pick the right feature set out of a million options. So buyer’s remorse is guaranteed at step one, before you even start.

Well, I can think of one option that would almost certainly eliminate the buyer’s-remorse problem: buy a Ford.

Ahem. Yeah, I know; sorry, Bowtie guys. But you CF lifers already know I’m a dyed-in-the-wool, born-and-bred Ford guy, so there.

On a slightly more serious note, though, I do miss the old days, when a ton of good-natured ribbing went on between devotees of the various American marques. Now, who really cares? One anonymous egg-mobile is pretty much like another. Granted, new cars are superior to the old ones I love so much in pretty much every way, at least in terms of technology, ease of use, handling, gas mileage, etc. But I still say they ain’t got no soul, and I do miss all the back and forth about which rules and which drools between Ford, Chevy, and Mopar. Not to even mention all the snickering we all did about the danged rice-burners.

While we’re at it, somebody ought to bring back the Packard, too.


I mean, come ON, people. Tell me that ain’t slicker’n owl shit.



Because Vagina.

Hillary Clinton is heading into the general election vagina-first, hoping she can surf a foamy lubricated sea of likeminded vaginas straight into the Oval Office. The popular wisdom—which has proved neither popular nor wise over the past year—is that Donald Trump suffers such insurmountable “negatives” among women that all the uneducated meth-smoking trailer-dwelling white male bigots in Flyover Country won’t be able to seal the deal for him.

Since identity politics are for everyone except straight white males these days, Madame Clinton has been traipsing her cottage-cheese buttocks across this great nation pandering to Negroes, Latinos, gays, and, of course, WOMEN.

You may not have realized it, but there’s a War on Women in America these days. Pay no mind that no one quite seems capable of articulating how our society is unfair to women. They keep dredging up the mythical wage gap, but that’s about it. And something about there not being enough free condoms. Otherwise, women live longer, work the safest jobs, and get drastically shorter prison sentences for committing the same crimes as men. And forget that they enjoy the sumptuous luxury of enjoying automatic and nearly universal public and legal sympathy in just about any dispute with men.

One might also say that women enjoy the extreme privilege of being openly pandered to by politicians, whereas any modern male American politician, even reputed “sexist” Donald Trump, would be biting his own dick off if he ever dared to openly and explicitly seek the male vote. Note that Hillary Clinton is openly naming her constituencies, while I’ve never even heard of Trump so much as use the term “white males.”

When it comes to the topic of gender in this election, the deck is stacked to put men on the defensive. This is why a central topic of the campaign is always whether Donald Trump hates women—and never whether Hillary Clinton hates men.

Well, in fairness, it’s a question that really doesn’t need asking. The answer is obvious enough.

My guts tell me that a Hillary Clinton presidency would be far more hostile toward male interests than Donald Trump’s would be toward women. If you think Obama was bad with the “white” thing, wait ‘til you see what Hillary Clinton does with the whole “male” thing. That’s why this November, I encourage all men to vote with their dicks.

Heh. Okay, I promise I will refrain from making any “dangling chad” jokes. No really, I promise.



God bless McDonalds!

You food snobs can kvetch about how “godawful” their food is all you like–which is really just a thinly-veiled tell for a hatred of capitalism and success, usually. But it ain’t necessarily all about the food, anyway.

I had diarrhea in Hamburg, Germany, and I couldn’t find a bathroom. It was 1983. I was 16, touring the city with a friend, and the undercooked eggs and Weisswurst I’d had for breakfast weren’t sitting well. The steins of Krombacher and shots of Korn Schnapps from the night before didn’t help.

I could feel the juices percolating through my abdomen as I walked down the busy street to St. Michael’s, and I knew I was in trouble.

“I need to find a restroom,” I told my German friend, Nicola.

She looked at me with all the compassion of a typical German and told me to hold it.

“But I can’t,” I said. It was the truth. I couldn’t hold it. I had to go. There are just some things in life you can’t control. Beer and egg diarrhea is one of them.

She rolled her eyes and pulled me into a nearby shop. She asked the storekeeper if we could use her restroom. The woman glanced at me, looked me up and down, and shook her head.

“Please … Bitte,” I whined, my eyes watering. Without a hint of mercy, the woman said, “Nein.”

Nicola grabbed me by the arm and pulled me out the door. I followed, barely able to walk as I squeezed my legs together.

“Don’t shops have public bathrooms in this city?” I asked. Nicola shook her head. “Not many.”

That began one of the longest, most painful days of my life. We went from shop to shop looking for a bathroom, only to be turned away. I felt like a poor version of Mary searching for an inn. Okay, irreverent analogy, but you get the picture.

“Don’t you people have public restrooms?” I asked as I tried to keep up with Nicola marching up the street.

“I don’t know,” Nicola said. “There’s a McDonald’s not far. We’ll go there.”

Thank God for the U.S. of A., I thought to myself. When I saw the golden arches on the horizon, it was like seeing the pearly gates of heaven. I ran toward them, pushing through the crowd. Finally, I made it to the bathroom. Angels sang.

Oh, those weren’t angels, honey. Been there, done that, and I assure you most solemnly: not angels.

Read on; McAllister is funny, and she has a larger point to make. For my money it’s a good one.


A look back

From the future.

Looking back 25 years ago to the election of 2016, it is clear that Clinton’s campaign team was badly mistaken when it thought that the vast middle of American politics would blame the Republicans for the violence outside the convention. Every pinko, commie, and socialist freak with a cause and a Soros subsidy descended upon Cleveland, and the ensuing chaos was supposed to show that Donald Trump brought violence and disorder in his wake. The Democrat lovefest to follow was supposed to provide a stark contrast, with Hillary bringing peace and blessed calm. But Americans didn’t see it that way.

Trump took advantage of his own novelty, giving the impression that his campaign was an exciting movement in contrast to the dreary trudge that was Hillary’s. He went hard for Sanders supporters, not getting many but getting a few Hillary could not afford to lose. On campus, a Trump shirt or hat became a powerful middle finger to the social justice warriors most students detested. Singers and actors came out for Trump. “We liked him because he had swagger,” Governor Justin Bieber (R-CA) recalls. Trump became a symbol of rebellion against the whiny nanny state that was America’s culture.

Trump also frustrated Clinton by using black and Hispanic celebrities to reach out to those communities. “Look, if you are a black person, Hillary is very, very bad for you,” Trump said onstage at a rally in Detroit, surrounded by black sports and rap stars. “See what the Democrats have done to this great town? She wants to do a trade deal with China, a very bad deal! Does that bring jobs back to Detroit? Does letting in millions of illegals bring jobs back to Detroit? Sad!” He then added: “Believe me, some of my very best friends are black people!” Trump would win 21% of African-American voters, which would be decisive in several races.

When the Department of Justice shocked no one by refusing to indict Hillary, Trump was on it: “I talked to many, many military people who tell me this is a scandal, a disgrace. If you or I did what Hillary did we’d be in jail so fast…but this is how it works in D.C. If you are connected like Hillary, part of the establishment, you have special rules. Sad!”

Hillary finally agreed to a debate, and it was a disaster. She was prim, prepared, and utterly stiff while Trump was loose, limber, and lacerating. She called him sexist, and he went for the throat: “I love women, not like your husband did, which was very shameful and which you tolerated. And a lot of young people who weren’t around then don’t know about how you covered up when Bill behaved very badly to women but when they learn about it it’s going to be very bad for you because you were very bad to the women. And everyone knows if you weren’t a woman you wouldn’t even be here. Sad!”

The two October ISIS attacks on American shopping malls in Pittsburg and Alexandria pushed Trump ahead 48-43, especially after it was revealed that the machine guns that had killed 25 U.S. citizens had been smuggled in from Tijuana. This undercut Hillary’s immediate pivot to gun control – something her internal polling told her had already been weighing her down in the Rust Belt – and again Trump was at her: “Hillary, who still won’t say the words ‘Islamic terrorism,’ wants to take away your guns and leave you defenseless when these guns come from Mexico. That’s crazy! She won’t build a wall to protect you, and she won’t let you protect yourselves. But she has many, many guards with guns, you know. Instead of registering our guns, how about we register Muslims? Sad!”

The mainstream media hoped this latest gaffe would stop Trump’s momentum; his supporters merely shrugged. “Trump is just being Trump,” one young woman who had previously been for Sanders told a CNN correspondent. “What I care about is not being gunned down shopping at Nordstrom, and I don’t think Hillary will protect us.”

When Pennsylvania was called for Trump, Hillary was on her second bourbon. When Ohio went red, her consultants ran up to Bill’s suite and pulled him off an eager blonde campaign staffer to have him come downstairs and pry the bottle out of Hillary’s clutches. They hoped to keep her from completely embarrassing herself during her concession speech.

T’is a consummation devoutly to be wished. And when even someone who despises Trump as roundly as Kurt does begins to see it coming, I’d say it’s way more likely than not. Although I must say, some of it is not even remotely accurate: Hillary will be way past her second bourbon–or her sixth–when Pennsylvania falls into the Trump column. And nobody would attempt to prize Bill off that campaign staffer; even as raddled and feeble as he now is, it would still be like trying to snatch a steak from a half-starved tiger.

Update! More on how Trump is already trouncing The Shrew:

This is the sort of mistake you never see out of the Trump campaign. The slogan is pure amateur hour. It accomplishes the opposite of its intent, and you can’t fail harder than that.

Now let’s look at the “woman card” issue. Trump took the risky (but strategically solid) approach of taking the fight to Clinton’s strength – her appeal among women voters and among men who think it is time for a woman to be president. Trump branded her as a sexist who is hiding behind political correctness. It was a strong persuasion play and it put Clinton on the defensive.

Clinton responded by embracing and magnifying the accusation. She said that if fighting to make the world better for women is playing the “woman card” then you can “Deal me in!” The response was quick, clever, and catnip for her base.

When asked about the Woman Card issue, Clinton made an enormous error by saying she knows how to deal with men who go “off the reservation.” For starters, it is a racist reference. But the bigger issue is that it opened the door for Trump to say – as he has – that it is offensive to men and a sign that Clinton believes men need to be controlled, and kept on the “reservation” by…women.

Trump flipped the frame on her, as he does so well. The original frame for Clinton’s “reservation” comment was that Trump was the problem and Clinton has a lot of experience dealing with that personality type. Trump reframed the situation as if Clinton were saying that men in general need to be kept in line…by…women.

Historians will someday see Clinton’s “off the reservation” comment as one of the biggest mistakes in American politics. It might not play that way on the 2D level of politics where it seems little more than a bad choice of words. But it is far more.

At some point, expect Trump to remind the country that we have sons, too.

Prediction: On November 8th you will see a record number of men walking “off the reservation” to vote for Trump.

Why on earth would any self-respecting man–as opposed to the Pajama Boy pussybots who are such a big part of the Democrat Socialist base–vote for a vicious, entirely corrupt hag who so clearly hates men?


Voting for spite

I’m all for it. At our current level of degeneracy, it’s all we have left.

When you live in a one party state, voting really is a waste of time. The best you can hope to do is make some trouble. I vote against all of the ballot measures, for example. They tend to fail so I suspect I’m not the only one who does it. In the primary, I’ll vote for the most deranged Democrat on the ballot. Again, this is out of pure spite. As a white man, the Democrat Party has nothing to offer me, but I can throw sand in their gears.

Voting in the ghetto has the added feature of seeing aspects of the underclass you don’t often see. Even in the poorest neighborhoods, there are civic minded people. There’s a nice black woman I see around town who works the polls every year. In the ghetto, the polling places are always run by black women. It makes sense. They are the people responsible for raising the children until they are old enough to go off to prison.

The other aspect of this is they love seeing honkies voting. I walked into the polling place and the nice black ladies lit up like I was a long lost relative. At some level, they sense that the presence of the honky is a good sign. We’re the canary in the coal mine. When the honky leaves, your neighborhood is forever lost. Seeing me in the neighborhood and taking the time to vote means there’s still some hope for the place.

The funny thing I did see at the polling station was a couple of black ladies holding Trump signs. I’ve never seen anyone promoting a Republican in this neighborhood so that was a first. Trump being treated like ghetto trash by the party big shots is not missed by the black ladies. Black people are vastly more in tune with the subtleties of respect than the typical honky. Black people see what’s happening with Trump and they relate.

That does not mean Trump will win many black votes. It just means they have no reason to fear him. That’s why I suspect Hillary is in deep trouble. Blacks will vote for her over an old Jew, but they are not turning out in big numbers for her unless the Republicans run someone scary. Trump does not scare black people. In fact, blacks seem to respect him and appreciate his showmanship. It’s a small thing but politics is a game of small things.

One of the goofier things yesterday is we are now back to paper ballots. The Left has been trying to shake down Diebold and ES&S for years. These are the firms that make the computer voting gear. Since they can’t get these companies to rig the machines in favor of the party, the party has made war on the companies. At least in Maryland, the campaign has worked so we are back to paper ballots. I guess if the paper company is found to be run by a conservative, I’ll be voting with colored rocks next time.

From which one might well assume that, since Progressivism is the dominant ideology and has come to mean the exact opposite of what used to be meant by the word “progress,” we’ll soon graduate to voting by means of guttural grunts and hooting.


STUNNER: the most incredible, very nearly unbelievable story of the last 100 years!

A liberal-fascist politician–a Clinton, no less!–uttered a word that MAY NOT HAVE BEEN A LIE.

Republican frontrunner Donald Trump accused Hillary Clinton of pandering in New York with her comment on Monday that she carries hot sauce with her everywhere she goes.

Trump’s doubts echoed the hosts of The Breakfast Club radio show where she made the admission Monday.

“Now listen, I want you to know that people are going to see this and say ‘She’s pandering to black people,’” host Charlamagne Tha God told her.

Her longstanding affection for the sauce has also been detailed in biographies. “As an adult, she liked jalapeños in her scrambled eggs and traveled with a bottle of Tabasco sauce in her purse,” Karen Blumenthal wrote in Hillary Rodham Clinton: A Woman Living History, which was published in January.

“Aides revealed that she liked spicy foods and hot sauce, and was even known to carry around a little bottle of Tabasco sauce on her person,” Michael Tomasky wrote in Hillary’s Turn, published in 2001.

Uncle Peter, my smelling salts!

Actually, what we may have here is a most egregious form of cultural appropriation. The SEALs have long been known as hot-sauce fans (check out these sample MRE menus from the US Navy Seal Guide To Nutrition; they even have their own brand of the stuff), and carrying hot sauce with them everywhere they went was something of a minor tradition among them long before it became another of those “black things” whites are presumed incapable of understanding, and long before Hillary ever started doing it. The SEALs, of course, are overwhelmingly white. Blacks, therefore, need to lay off Whitey’s hot sauce, lest they be justly accused of bigotry and cultural insensitivity.

I mean, what’s going to be next, blacks sporting Elvis-style rockabilly pompadours? Oh wait

Via Stephen Kruiser, who headlines it aptly: “MSM Finally Curious About Hillary’s Truthfulness, Fact Checks Her Hot Sauce Claim.” And now you can look for the Trump-deranged, both D and R, to start dancing up and down and going into paroxysms of joy over this great “victory” over His Obnoxious Awfulness.



Fred asks the Big Question.

I do not understand the behavioral genetics of sexual selection.

For example, why do women have breasts? They are, as we say, a waste of metabolic resources, unnecessary for nursing young (neither chimps nor dogs have breasts except when nursing), and make running difficult (we have sports bras for a reason). That is, they are both useless and detrimental. Why do they remain in the population?

Well, see, it’s because men like them. This allows well-endowed women to mate with better men, and have more offspring. (The idea that a comparatively planar women can’t get laid suggests that behavioral geneticists need to get out more, but never mind.) Then why in 2500 years have not big hooters become general in the population? Or even common? And of course if they did become general they would lose their selective advantage since all women would have them. They would then constitute a species-wide disadvantage.

As a minor matter, I do not see how the masculine preference for big ones came about. In a population of cave people with flat women, presumably the response to the mutational appearance of biggies would have been, “Geez, Urk Urk, what’s wrong with Sally?” “Beats me, Ralph. Maybe it’s cancer.”

That is, big breasts would only be an advantage in the presence of a preexisting preference for them. But why a preference before there was anything for it to prefer?

A weighty matter indeed, and worthy of close examination.


Takes one to know one

Know what I like best about frothing Trump-haters? They’re never obnoxious, arrogant, or personally insulting.

Except, of course, when they are.

Trump supporters, no one should let you off of that bandwagon now.  You should be handcuffed to that Titanic you volunteered to crew.

Donald Trump didn’t suddenly change in the past few days, weeks or months. He’s the same guy he always was, the same guy that most of us in the conservative movement and GOP have been staunchly opposing for the past year. He didn’t abruptly become reckless, obnoxious, ill-informed, erratic, hot-tempered, pathologically dishonest, narcissistic, crude and catastrophically unqualified for the presidency overnight. He’s always been that guy, and you denied it and ignored it and hand-waved it away and made excuses every step of the way because you were convinced that you were so much smarter than the rest of us. You were so certain that you had received some superior wavelength giving you special insight into the Donald; only you could tell that it was all an act. Only you could grasp that his constant courting of controversy was just to get attention from the media. Only you could instinctively sense that his style would play brilliantly in the general election and win over working-class Democrats. (SPOILER ALERT: It isn’t.) You insisted that you could “coach him.”

You came to those conclusions not because you’re smarter than the rest of us, but because you’re actually more foolish than the rest of us.

Well, I’m certainly persuaded! To whom do I apologize for my rank stupidity, and where’s the line to climb contritely back on the wheezing, sclerotic, go-along-get-along Republican “juggernaut” again?

Technically we’re supposed to welcome previous Trump fans-turned-foes with open arms. But barring some miraculous comeback by Ted Cruz, the Trump campaign will have cost the Republican Party the presidency after eight years of Obama, and perhaps the Senate and even the House – and Scalia’s replacement on the Court as well. Years of effort spent attempting to dispel the accusations of inherent Republican misogyny, xenophobia, hypocrisy, ignorance and blind rage have been undone by Trump’s campaign. And every Trump advocate in front of a camera had a hand in this.

Well, there’s another way to look at all that. All that “effort” spent to “dispel” those accusations accomplished WHAT, exactly? From some places out here beyond the Acela corridor, it all looked a lot more like groveling apologia to us, and none of it worked anyway. The libs are still calling you misogynists, racists, xenophobes, and all the rest–and they’re going to go right on doing it until Old Scratch straps on his ice skates, no matter how many olive branches you pierce those seemingly innumerable other cheeks of yours with.

But hey, we’re all stupid, so what do we know, right?


Ask yourself why they hate him

There’s a reason for it.

The problem, of course, is that all of this comes from the very people who have already pulled off the greatest swindles in the history of mankind. Not since the Garden of Eden have mortals been exposed to such evil and thievery as this government allows, encourages or flat-out perpetrates.

“Look at Trump University!” they squeal. People supposedly went into hock for worthless degrees. Hmmm, sound familiar? Talk to any college grads lately still living with their parents who owe tens of thousands of dollars to a federally accredited university and no job?

Or better yet, consider Social Security. It currently collects about $780 billion a year from workers, disbursing about $850 billion to retirees. It piles up $70 billion in losses each year and the gap keeps widening.

Bernie Madoff’s Ponzi scheme took in about $20 billion from his victims and he ultimately valued his investments at $65 billion. So depending on how you compare the two Ponzi schemes, the Social Security swindle is anywhere from the same size as Madoff’s — every single year — or more than 10 times the size.

The only other big difference between the two Ponzi schemes is who goes to jail — it’s you, if you refuse to pay into the government-run swindle. And these people think “Donald Trump” will somehow corrupt this place?

Let’s not even talk about the criminal bank bailouts after the government-spiked housing crisis.

Then they cry a river over Trump Water, a company they complain does not exist or is not profitable or something. Whatever. I will take a million gallons of Trump Water before I would take a single drop of their Flint water, a toxic brew that only government bureaucrats at every level of every government involved could conjure up.

Ouch. I mean, just…fucking…ouch. If these people had any shame or integrity at all, that smack would smart so bad you could feel their pain from here.

Hurt has plenty more along those lines–PLENTY–and he’s still barely scratching the surface. Trump (and what and who he represents) just might be dangerous, all right–to them, and their precious iron rice bowls and gilt hog troughs. No wonder they’re all flapping and waving their arms, shrieking, and running around in an absolute frenzy. If he never accomplishes another damned thing his whole life, that spectacle alone has made supporting him worthwhile as far as I’m concerned.


Rules of the road redux

I posted some a while back (reachable via the link in the Greatest Hits section above), and now here’s more. The author seems to think he’s writing exclusively about Memphis, but I assure him it just ain’t so. They’re damned near universal.

At any rate, after careful observation, I put together ten rules of Memphis driving, to wit:

  1. Brakes are a sign of weakness. Don’t even consider using them until it’s too late.
  2. All turns should be made from the opposite side of the road. If you know your destination is on the right, stay left until you get there, then have at it.
  3. Turn lanes are for the front of your vehicle only. Hang your rear into oncoming traffic. I don’t know why. It’s just what we do, and we’ve apparently been doing it since Pharaoh held Charlton Heston and the children of Israel captive.
  4. Avoid looking in the direction you are driving. Do some sight-seeing instead.
  5. Courtesy is a sign of weakness.
  6. If yours is the first vehicle in the herd, drive fast enough to cut off and delay the driver who is waiting to turn onto the road. If you are last in line, slow down so the pack behind you can catch up and keep blocking him.
  7. Remember, during hours of darkness at least one vehicle in every quarter-mile must have its headlights and tail lights off in honor of the Patron Saint of Memphis Drivers, Helen Keller.
  8. When possible, bury your foot in the floorboard and double the posted speed limit.
  9. What blinkers?
  10. If unsure, just drive like a cop.

If the local nightly news broadcasts around here are any indication, number 7 is considered absolutely inviolable by illegal aliens from Mexico, especially when they’re driving drunk the wrong way down I-485 at 4 AM.


Suicide box

The science would seem to be settled.

[I]t is impossible to create an identical copy of a quantum state without destroying the original – in fact, you HAVE to destroy the original arrangement in order to extract all the necessary information from it to construct the new, teleported, state. In fact, the relevant theorem in quantum mechanics is called the “no cloning” theorem. Now, we don’t yet know exactly how brains work to create consciousness, but if the quantum states of some electrons somewhere in the brain are critical to perfectly determining — and thus copying — “you”, then a teleporter would necessarily have to obey the rules of quantum teleportation when sending the information about the arrangement of particles that are “you” to the new location, and whatever was left behind would definitively *not* be you.

Well, damn.

(Via CDR M)


It ain’t bragging if you can DO it

Project much, Trump-haters?

Donald Trump is the most famous narcissist in the world. That fact probably seems obvious to you, given Trump’s continuous self-promotion. Mental health experts agree with your assessment. Trump hits most of the checkboxes for the diagnosis.

The biggest tell for narcissism is a belief that you are better than other people. For example, if Trump believed he could run for President – with almost no political experience – and dominate the Republican party in only a few short months, that would be an example of…

Okay, wait. That one doesn’t work. Apparently his self-image was spot-on in that one specific case. It was the rest of us who got that one wrong.

But still, Trump obviously has an inflated self-image. For example, there was the time he thought he could transition from being a real estate developer to being a best-selling author of a book about negotiating, but then…shit. Okay, that example doesn’t work.

Okay, how about this example: Remember when Trump thought he could transition from developing real estate and being a best selling author to becoming a reality TV star and then…okay, forget that one. That sort of worked out for Trump.

Um…okay, I have one. Remember all of the Trump real estate and casino businesses that failed? I think there were a handful of big failures. That’s a terrible track record when you consider Trump’s hundreds of successful projects that…shit. Okay, that example doesn’t work when you put it in context.

But the ego on that guy. For example, Trump thinks models are attracted to him. Models! Ha ha! And they are, but my point is that I forget what my point is. Something about his ego? Yes, that’s it.

It’s Scott Adams, just about the only guy who has been right on the whole Trump phenomenon right out of the gate, so you should definitely read it all.




"America is at that awkward stage. It's too late to work within the system, but too early to shoot the bastards." – Claire Wolfe, 101 Things to Do 'Til the Revolution

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