They’re gone. And they ain’t coming back.
As the spurious case against Brett Kavanaugh disintegrates, splinters, and re-forms into a cacophony of whiny, irrelevant expostulations, it is instructive to step back and survey the field upon which this battle took place.
The ground is littered with dead and wounded ideals: civility, dead; basic decency, dead; the presumption of innocence, gravely wounded, ditto for the idea of due process. And this disgusting carnage is all on you, O ancient one, Dianne Feinstein, and your self-important, preposterous colleagues. You were desperate to keep Brett Kavanaugh off the Supreme Court so you abandoned any semblance of decency and respect. You travestied the processes of the United States Senate for the sake of a cynical grab at power. I’d say that you should be ashamed of yourselves, but, like the thugs that you are, you have no shame. You believe the acquisition of power is a magical antidote to shame. You are wrong about that, and one can only hope that you will one day reap some portion of the obloquy you have sowed.
At a rally last night, President Trump, speaking about Judge Kavanaugh, said: “A man’s life is in tatters. His wife is shattered.” Musing on the attempted public execution the country just witnessed, the president continued, “They destroy people. They want to destroy people. These are really evil people.”
Yes, they are. But here’s the saving grace. The president, like Brett Kavanaugh, is a fighter. The president’s support has been as unwavering as Judge Kavanaugh’s determination to stay the course. Senator Spartacus (neé Cory Booker, and the accent is not a mistake) says that whether Judge Kavanaugh is “innocent or guilty”the Senate should “move on to another candidate.” Why? Because he’s tainted.
So: Democratic jackals on the Senate Judiciary Committee, aided and abetted by their loyal public relations firms — the mainstream media — and hectoring unpleasant people funded by George Soros, heap mud on Brett Kavanaugh for weeks and then step back and say: “He’s got mud all over him! Let’s move on to a more pristine victim.”
Funny how that works, innit? But seeing as how it’s the nature of who and what we’re dealing with, it therefore behooves us to acknowledge the sorry situation and get on with the necessary if distasteful task of getting in their faces, of punching back twice as hard—and of crushing them so completely that the very thought of ever again attacking us in such a way makes them literally want to vomit from fear and horror. It’s either that, or accept defeat and adjust to our newfound serfdom as best we can. Muir has the right of it:
Indeed. Best we get on with melting their asses right down to bubbling slag, then. It’s the only way to be sure.