Elongate!!!

So of course the shitlibs are now trying desperately to gin up some kind of sex scandal they can use to lay Elon Musk low, the cheeky iconoclast having proven to be completely impervious to everything else they’ve tried so far to bring him to heel and put him back in his proper place. To wit:


Bless his heart, he doesn’t seem to give a fart in a whirlwind about any of that horseshit, either:


Between Musk, DeSantis, Tucker, Trump, and a handful of others, we’re living in what could fairly be thought of as a Golden Age for smacking libtards around and making the whiny douchenozzles cry, and I for one am loving it. As Glenn quips: When you’re targeted by a clown show, the only proper response is to point and laugh. Most satisfying of all is the way they react when they get their noses tweaked like this, losing it completely in paroxysms of spluttering, stammering rage. Being aggressively taunted, disregarded, and openly made sport of—especially when it’s coming from the kind of people whose habitual passivity, obsequiousness, and reflexive assumption of the defensive crouch they’d long since come to take for granted—is such an alien sensation for them they simply can’t help but blow their stacks every time it happens to them anew.

6

OOOOOOPS!

Quite possibly the most hilarious Freudian slip in all of recorded history.


More:

On Wednesday, former President George W. Bush made an unfortunate slip up during a speech condemning Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. Bush was discussing democracy’s importance and the threats it faces in the U.S. and abroad when he made a gaffe that has since captured a significant amount of attention.

“In contrast, Russia elections are rigged,” said Bush. “Political opponents are imprisoned or otherwise eliminated from participating in the electoral process. The result is an absence of checks and balances in Russia and the decision of one man to launch a wholly unjustified and brutal invasion of Iraq – I mean, of Ukraine.”

Bush then laughed it off, shrugging as he said “Iraq, too” under his breath.

“Anyway– 75,” said Bush, making a joke about his age.

By way of useful comparison, please note that the current illegitimate White House occupant has been attached like a remora to the Deep State teat for half a century, is three years older than Bush is, and beclowns himself far more severely than Bush’s little brain fart above multiple times every day.

5

Origins of Empire

It’s a Progressivist thing.

It may prove in this momentous decade that the American Empire falls. But take heart, because the fall of the empire — aren’t all empires finally a bundle of conceits destined to collapse? — may lead to the revival of the American Republic.

The visions of empire and republic are as starkly different as George Washington and the founders were from Teddy Roosevelt and Woodrow Wilson. Much of what constitutes the “American Empire” is a product of progressive doctrine. It was about domestic imperialism perhaps far more than American global dominance. Restoring the republic should be welcomed by citizens dedicated to our nation’s founding principles.

We’re reaching a culmination. The left’s decades-long march through America’s institutions succeeded. They control government, corporations, health care, sciences, media, arts and entertainment, education, nonprofits, sports…right down to the Boy and Girl Scouts. They seek to consolidate their control in a handful of larger institutions (government and corporations, principally). An American “reset” is a precursor to a global reset, per the lunatic vision of Klaus Schwab and his acolytes.

(As an aside, pray tell, what is it with Germany that it periodically spawns apocalyptic and/or messianic figures like Marx, Nietzsche, Hitler, and now this dangerous utopian, Klaus Schwab?)

If you’re feeling surrounded, don’t. There are many more of us than them. The unbelievable major serial failures of the Biden administration (who bats zero?) are waking up a broader slice of the public — waking them up through mounting costs (inflation and energy), uncertainties (crime and the border), and flagrant attempts in schools to sexually debauch our kids (Biden’s handlers support this effort), among other wanton offenses.

The progressive worldview, as translated through governance and cultural dictates, is collapsing. Progressivism is daily revealing itself as, yes, power-hungry, incompetent, ineffective, but also dark. The end of empire isn’t likely to finish with a whimper. It’ll be calamitous, confrontational, and just plain nasty. The elites won’t go gentle into that good night. They’ve far too much riding on outcomes.

No one should expect any different from them, either. All animals are most dangerous when they’re wounded.

6

A conversation with Sarah Palin

Salena Zito checks in with a REAL maverick, as opposed to the phony-ass John McCain variety.

Sarah Palin Dishes on Trump, Her Congress Run, and Love With Ron Duguay
She declared her run for Congress on April 1—just weeks after visiting New York City to pursue a defamation suit against the New York Times.

“When I announced, I said, ‘Alaskans, if you hire me, I would love to work for you. I will go to Washington, D.C., and I’ll represent you,’ not really considering all the politics involved because as the days go on, you realize, ‘Oh my gosh. OK, here comes the political machine,’” she said of the reactions to her announcement.

Since her resignation as governor in 2009, Palin has become a powerful force in the conservative populist movement—first dubbed the Tea Party during the 2010 midterm elections. She has since served as a Fox News contributor, hosted several outdoor lifestyle shows on the Sportsman Channel, and written the memoir Going Rogue: An American Life, which spent six weeks on the New York Times bestseller list in 2009. She also endorsed former President Donald Trump’s run in 2016 before the first caucus primary votes were even cast.

Besides her son Trig, Palin said the rest of her children are now living all over the place. Eldest son Track, 32, is a father of three who still resides in Alaska. Bristol, 31, is now a mother of three and owns a real estate company in Texas. Willow, 28, and her husband, Ricky, are the parents of twins and welcomed their third child on March 30; they also recently moved to Texas. Piper, 21, is in college in Arizona. Palin herself lives in a home not far from her father, Chuck, in the suburbs of Wasilla, the fourth-largest city in Alaska, about 40 miles from Anchorage.

Meanwhile, Palin and her husband of more than 30 years, Todd, 57, quietly divorced in the spring of 2020. Palin said she found out in 2019 that her high school sweetheart—with whom she eloped in 1988—wanted out of the marriage via an email from an attorney.

The pain and shock of the divorce are still evident. “It was the most earth-shattering, bizarre thing I could have ever imagined and it kind of remains so,” she told me.

While they share custody of Trig, she said it’s the only connection remaining between them. “He spends his time with his girlfriend whom he’s had for some time now..,” she says as her voice trails off, adding, “She lives down in the lower 48, so he spends a lot of time down in the lower 48.”

Since the divorce, Palin said, she hadn’t even thought about dating again until this winter, when she went to New York for the defamation case she filed against the New York Times for falsely claiming in a 2017 op-ed that her political rhetoric led to a mass shooting.

She called up a longtime friend, retired New York Rangers star Ron Duguay, because she figured he knew New York well enough to be her Gotham fixer—and a romance suddenly took off.

She lights up when she talks about Duguay, who played with the Rangers from 1977 to 1983, saying she finds the relationship “safe and comfortable.”

“Ron is the first person that I’ve ever even talked to about a lot of this personal stuff. So, it’s been helpful and refreshing to have Ron to talk to about not just politics, because he’s got more common sense in his little finger than the collective in D.C., but just about life,” she said.

Good for her. I’ve liked Palin ever since I first heard of her during her days as governor, and I still do. In fact, she’s got a lot in common with Trump when you think about it: a populist, an outsider, as fanatically, rabidly hated by the GOPer/NeverTrumpTard ilk as she is by the Demonrat Left, and for some of the exact same reasons. Palin is about the only contemporary American politician I can think of offhand who’s been as relentlessly hounded, investigated, slandered, and just generally pecked-at by the hellhounds of Old Media as Trump himself has, another thing they have in common. Only that one, they both probably wish they didn’t.

As for Sarah’s fake-Right detractors, far from harming McCain in his doomed-from-the-start ’08 Prexy run against shitlib dreamboat Barry-Bob Hussein Obloobaloobo as they so like to whine, the only point at which McCain even so much as managed to pull even with Jugeared Jesus in the pre-election polling was right after Palin was announced as the Veep pick. The brief boost with which she gifted the universally-disliked asshole McMaverick lasted a few days, maybe a week or so, after which the sleazy RINO prick’s lizardly snout quickly sank right back beneath the surface of the Swamp muck, never to come anywhere near parity with Obongo again.

One thing that makes seeing the pseudo-Right reminded of that reality such a pleasure is that it’s so easy to see how much it annoys ’em. They, like the insufferable McCain, have never stopped blaming Palin for McStain’s inevitable defeat, a comforting lie which McLame clung to desperately until the frabjous day he finally joined the Choir Invisible. Blame Sarah! was an endlessly-running loop of bitter pissing and moaning which only served to underscore several of the many reasons Juanny Mav been so widely disliked for so many decades: his piss-poor character; his unrestrained egotism; his complete lack of any sense of loyalty to anyone or anything but himself and his own selfish interests.

So yeah, you go, Sarah. Nothing but the best to you from here, ol’ girl.

9

Call to arms

Kevin Downey has had it.

The Left Wants Us Dead. Stop Praying for Them, Start Buying Ammo for Self-Defense.
How can we beat a domestic enemy with hugs? We can’t. They want us dead, yet many conservatives and Republicans would rather turn the other cheek than curl up their fists and punch back.

When Chicago Mayor Lori Lightfoot isn’t busy ignoring the daily “festival of lead” that slaughters mostly black people in her city, she is calling for gay people to grab their guns.

The problem isn’t that the left likes to attack conservatives. We KNOW that. What we need to realize is that we can’t pray our way out of this violence, and apparently Antifa is too stupid to learn any lessons from Kyle Rittenhouse.

That’s because there was no follow-through in the wake of Rittenhouse’s heroic deeds, so why would the violent Left worry? To the eternal discredit of Our Side, their self-assurance has so far been eminently justified.

Now is a good time to tell you (and the FBI) that, unlike Mayor Lightfoot, I am NOT suggesting you shoot people. What I AM saying is we need a new plan, and that plan MIGHT involve punching a purple-haired freakshow in the face. We are dealing with toilet humans who have never been held responsible for their actions. Defend yourselves.

Any plan that does NOT involve “punching a purple-haired freakshow in the face” as an absolutely minimal opening gambit, escalation to follow forthwith, is a waste of fucking time. They’ve been allowed to get away with far more than they should’ve already; keep on with the self-restraint and forebearance and things will only get worse.

Though I am a “weapons guy,” I am not paid to say this. I’ve never even held a non-lethal Hero 2020 gun—though I hear it shoots exploding pepper balls at a rate of 100 mph. Ouch, that’s gotta smart. I can’t imagine how much that peppery goodness hurts the eyes and noses of genderless Antifa gals who believe kicking you into a coma is his/her/its RIGHT.

Nor can I. But it sure is a lot of fun to try, ain’t it? Okay, no more snide parenthetical asides from here on out, so’s y’all can take in the full impact of what he’s saying.

It’s time to scrape the communist barnacles off of our nation. We live in a country where leftist failures like Lightfoot can call for violence and not get punished. Hundreds of liberals are allowed to illegally protest outside of the homes of SCOTUS justices, but YOU will end up on an FBI domestic terrorist list if you dare attend a school board meeting and question the Marxists who are indoctrinating your kids.

For the last two years, we’ve seen BLM and Antifa pull innocent people from cars and pummel them in the name of blatant racism George Floyd and get away with it. We watched Kyle Rittenhouse go on trial for clearly defending himself against the brownshirts. Things are going to get worse before they get better.

I can’t be the only person who is sick of watching peaceful, patriotic Americans getting their heads smashed by the Democrats’ personal brownshirts, even though Biden claims they are a “myth.”

If you decide to carry a weapon to defend yourself, make sure it is legal where you live. The left is eager to send us to prison for as long as they can for any reason. Ask the peaceful J6 protestors who are rotting in federal jail.

And don’t count on the police to help you ward off Biden’s bolshies. Almost half of Antifa/BLM had their charges dropped after they violently gutted Portland. Some got arrested and returned to riot the same day.

The commie push is on. I just want the good guys to be ready. Defend yourselves. They want you dead.

That they do. They’ve certainly told us so enough times, explicitly and unequivocally. In fact, they’ve done a lot more than just that—they’ve already murdered scores of us, maybe hundreds, since 2020’s Summer O’ State-Sanctioned Leftist Violence got the whole shitshow underway. High time we started taking them at their word, I think, and give ’em some of their own back whenever they decide to dash out into the streets and start acting all frisky.

Kev’s pepper-spray-gun recommendation is a fine one, I think. I myself hugely enjoy the edifying thought of those purple-haired, nose-ringed, gender-befuddled rage junkies clawing furiously at their eyeballs, desperately trying to tear them from the sockets so as to make the ouchee go away. Weeping copiously; great ropey threads of snot, tears, and drool cascading over their double chins, down their necks, and up under their black 6X-Lg T-shirts. Blubbering and gibbering incoherently at what for most of them will be a completely new experience: being on the receiving end of some actual, meaningful, in-your-fucking-face resistance for once. All that good stuff, y’know?

So yeah, let the games begin, I say. Until it’s time for the shooting to commence, which I don’t think it is just yet although it’s almost here, let’s arm up with something non-lethal but still agony-inducing and get this party started, yo! None of us ought to be standing around with our thumb up our flue waiting for some semi-sentient commie pudhead to get the first lick in, either. I urge one and all to keep your nonlethal weapon of choice IN YOUR HAND, not tucked away in a pocket, at all times when in the presence of The Enemy, and to put said nonlethal weapon of choice to good use at the first intimation of aggression presented by your swinish foe.

As is Downey, I am beyond sick and tired of seeing yet another one of Ours hitting the ground in a fetal ball, helpless as a newborn kitten under a brutal gang-boot party instead of baring his fangs, standing his ground, and lighting into the Fascist filthbags with every potential instrument of mayhem he can lay hands on, giving Biden’s Brownshirts a serious dose of what-fer with blatant intent to inflict grievous bodily injury in full effect. All others of us in the vicinity who aren’t already similarly engaged themselves will be expected to wade in and lend a hand as well. The mere thought of standing idly by while a brother has his ribcage stove in for him by a pack of urban jackals cringing behind black bandanas and hoodies ought to damned well be anathema to us from now on, a shameful thing that just isn’t done.

The Hells Angels have a bylaw that’s as old as the M/C itself, which requires one hundred percent participation of all members present in any kind of fracas, brouhaha, or dustup in which a fellow Red & White is involved. The H/As ain’t known for losing very many of these all-out brawls, either, being wise in the ways of close-quarters physical combat. Our Side must emulate this thrice-worthy example.

When you think about it, it wasn’t all that long ago when providing assistance to someone being unfairly set upon by clearly dishonorable attackers was part of a Code of Manly Honor reverenced by every self-respecting specimen of true American manhood. That code is still a perfectly good one; it wasn’t because of anything wrong with the Code that it was cast aside by a more effete and pussified generation of “American” “men.” No, the flaw wasn’t in the Code, but in us.

We’d all be much the better off for it, both our individual selves and the society at large, by reinstating that Code now and striving to uphold it each and every day, teaching our sons to hew to it themselves when they come of age. Just doing that will bring us a long way towards restoring this disintegrating society—turning it from the dangerous, festering cesspool the Left has made of it back into the kind of place where decent, upstanding folk would be proud to live once more.

5

Dennis Hopper, American icon

Just so’s you know, I freely admit that I’m running this as an excuse to repost this most awesome Nicholson/Hopper duet from Easy Rider at the end.

I’ve always loved Dennis Hopper and found him to be a kindred spirit. He embodies American consciousness without a shred of sentimentality. We see in him a mixture of rebelliousness, sorrow, loss, and even grace. But more than anything, we see American restlessness. Although he is most known for his films, both as a director and actor, Hopper’s talent was also visible in his photography. After his career had a bit of a downturn in the 1960s, Hopper’s then-wife, Brooke Hayward, gave him a Nikon camera for his 25th birthday. 

Hopper’s photography oeuvre covers only the years 1961-1967, which is short chronologically speaking, but the creations that came out of restlessness transcend time. Hopper himself didn’t want to have anything to do with the pictures and put them away in a vault. “I was trying to forget…,” he said, “the photographs represented failure to me. A painful parting from [daughter] Marin and Brooke, my art collection, the house that I lived in and the life that I had known for those eight years.” Still, the photographs continue to live as artifacts of America’s past, separated from Hopper, the man, but bound to Hopper, the artist. His own view of their existence and status as photographs is almost irrelevant because of our gaze into the world he has recorded.

Hopper’s photographs, particularly in this collection, In Dreams, are a window into the soul of America during the 1960s. We see street scenes of Los Angeles: people frozen in time, sitting, standing up, looking into the distance of their own lives, or just staring at the passing dog. We see a close up of hands writing; jazz musicians in a smokey club; streets in rearview mirrors offering both a reality and an illusion of our strange world; George Segal and Sandy Dennis in 1965, a year before the release of Mike Nichols’ adaptation of Edward Albee’s 1962 play, “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?,” standing among the broken nude statues, embodying innocence not unlike their characters, Nick and Honey, in Nichols’ film.

We see Brooke Hayward in a grocery store, pushing a cart somewhat sadly, lost in her secret thoughts; a couple in a kissing booth; a girl in a rearview mirror driving to God knows where (a job? Seeing a friend? Or is she running away?); a cocktail party where a kiss between a man and woman appears seemingly from nowhere (Are they strangers? Friends? Lovers?).

We see the filming of Henry Hathaway’s 1965 western, “The Sons of Katie Elder.” Hopper does not discriminate and sees everyone as a human being, not in their respective societal or film roles. Hathaway and John Wayne are in the middle of a scene with Wayne pointing at something out of frame. There is a calmness, steadiness, and stability, but also the bubbling of creativity. I am drawn to these images precisely because they point to a time and a place when even the possibility of steadiness and masculinity was present in the culture. Things are getting done and life keeps moving forward.

In the collection, there are even self-portraits, in which we see Hopper’s need to be seen, a rebellious streak, and over the top self-importance. But there is also a certain sensitivity that only comes from someone who has the soul of an artist. They are the most dreamy of all. Is this how Hopper saw himself at the time? He is hovering like a ghost of America past and present. 

On one occasion, Hopper’s daughter Marin, reflected: “My father, Dennis Hopper, believed that being on the road in search of something was very American. You had to keep moving forward no matter what. Ride into town, gunfight at high noon, then off into the sunset.” Hopper represented—and even in his death, represents—not simply the one American dream, whatever it may have been or whatever shred of it is present now. Rather, he represents American dreams—lives lived on the photographic paper, on the celluloid, and in the American desert of desires. 

Okay, I take it back; the article is good enough to serve as its own justification, no excuses required for running it. Same-same with the vid, actually.



Update! So the whole Hopper trip got me to rooting around here and there, which eventually landed me on this incredible site covering all things Easy Rider. Captain America and Billy’s route to Mardi Gras is mapped out, literally; the entire movie is posted; there are then-and-now pics of some of the locations where scenes from the movie were shot, among other way-cool stuff. No foolin’, gang, this is one hella-awesome website for any Easy Rider fan.

2

Another idea whose time has surely come

Retroactive abortion.

My guess: we’re nearing the end of America’s Christian patience for being snookered, gaslit, lied-to, bamboozled, and mind-fucked, especially as our nation gets gang-raped by the Party of Chaos. Perhaps the solution is to go a little further down the Roe v Wade path and make abortion fully retroactive, a new and innovative way to “cancel” lives whose obnoxious presence in the world is a menace to the human project. Declare the likes of AlMay and NiJank retroactively “unborn,” erasing their privilege to appointed office. The wire coat-hanger probably will not avail in this procedure.

Oh, that’s all right, a decently-zeroed .308 caliber rifle damned sure will.

Meanwhile, several Supreme Court justices are under siege in direct contravention of 18 U.S. Code § 115 — influencing, impeding, or retaliating against a federal official by threatening or injuring a family member. The authorities are permitting angry mobs to moil freely outside the Justices’ houses, while many January Sixth “insurrectionists” rot in the DC jail into a second-year on misdemeanor charges that the authorities refuse to adjudicate — meaning that there is no authority in Washington, DC, only a nameless, lawless simulacrum of it as conceived, say, in the spirit of Franz Kafka.

Hope abides that the November elections might set up a correction to much of this madness. The release on Saturday of Dinesh D’Souza’s documentary 2000 Mules does not provide a whole lot of encouragement about that. The Party of Chaos still has its apparatus of ballot fraud in place all over the country and nobody seems to know what to do about it (though the remedy is pretty simple and straightforward: in-person voting with voter ID).

Please permit me to commend the aforementioned .308 caliber rifle to your attention as a most excellent alternative.

The evidence of drop-box video and smart-phone tracking of the 2020 ballot-stuffers in several states is right there and nobody in American life appears to be equipped to do something about it. The necessary equipment consists of two plum-sized glands generally assigned at birth to persons of the male persuasion. Perhaps, along with refrigerator condensers, the supply line for that is broken.

But first, of course, before the scheduled midterm elections there are roughly six months of nice weather to get through, meaning conditions that are favorable for action in the street, starring the shock troops of Progressive Wokery. Depending on where you live, maybe that’s another reason to feel those old heebie-jeebies creeping in on little spiders’ feet.

Speak for yourself, Bill. What I’m sensing is more of a steadily-increasing disinclination among Real Americans to just sit passively back and put up with such arrant nonsense this go-round, watching helplessly as American cities burn and the police sit on their hands and do nothing. I’m thinking this might possibly be where that good ol’ standby, the .308 caliber rifle, might just be brought into play. We have no effective way to predict when the point will be reached, but sooner or later enough becomes enough, all patience has been exhausted, and sleeping giants will be awakened and rise up in wrath.

1

BREAKING: DeSantis right again!!!

No news there, really; he almost always is.

Ron DeSantis: Requiring Permits for Concealed Carry is ‘Subcontracting Your Rights’
Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis (R) is warning that requiring a permit for concealed carry subcontracts out constitutional rights to the whims of the person approving permit applications.

News4Jax noted that DeSantis described the concealed permitting process on Tuesday as a “licensing scheme” run by people who can take away your license if they so choose. The Governor made clear he wants to replace the permitting system with a constitutional carry framework.

Precisely so. As I always say: any time you must apply to the government for official permission and a license to exercise something you’ve deceived yourself into thinking of as a “right,” what you actually have is by definition not a right, but a privilege.

Agriculture Commissioner Nikki Fried is the individual who oversees concealed permitting in Florida. She is also a Democrat candidate for governor in the state. Fried responded to DeSantis by calling the push for constitutional carry “absurd political pandering from the governor of a state that has experienced some of the worst mass shootings in our country’s history.”

DeSantis also spoke about concealed permitting over the weekend, alluding to “the official in charge of these permits” but not calling out Fried by name.

The NRA quoted DeSantis saying “the official in charge of these permits doesn’t support Second Amendment rights.”

Right again, Ron, and it’s high time somebody found the intestinal fortitude to point it out, obvious as it is to some of us. The truth is, NO Demonrat supports the private ownership of firearms, contra whatever brazen lies they feel they must puke up during “election” season. Reflexive opposition to what the plainspoken, easily-understood language of the 2A says is a core prerequisite for acceptance as a Democrat Party candidate for elective office, any breach of which is grounds for immediate and summary expulsion.

2

The New New Right

Bret Stephens—stale, stuffy, irrelevant, and insufferable as is typical of his type—asks (and answers) the most meaningless question I can think of right offhand.

What is conservative?” columnist Bret Stephens asked in Tuesday’s New York Times.

Who the fuck cares? Also: who the fuck thinks there could ever be a worthwhile answer to be found in, of all places, the NYT, ferchrissakes?

“It is,” he posits, “above all, the conviction that abrupt and profound changes to established laws and common expectations are utterly destructive to respect for the law and the institutions established to uphold it — especially when those changes are instigatedgggggzzzzzzxxxsknxxxxzzzz…”

Night-night, sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs etc.

Stephens was responding to the broad conservative and Christian excitement that America’s extreme abortion regime might finally be struck down by the Supreme Court; but Stephens might as well have been writing about J.D. Vance’s hard-fought Tuesday night victory in Ohio’s Republican primary. Or Blake Master’s primary race to represent Arizona. Or Tucker Carlson’s intellectual ascendancy. Or the rise of a young and invigorated American New Right.

Stephens is wrong, of course. Conservatism isn’t remotely about process: It’s about traditional wisdom and values; it’s about conserving things of generational, transcendent value.

It means understanding that man is fallen, and society must protect families, workers, traditions, and, yes, the unborn from being wiped aside; oppressed from above.

It means conserving the truth — the truth about men and women, the truth about the unborn, the truth about human equality, and the necessary limits on government power.

That’s not to say there isn’t still an important place for process: In a civilization governed by prudent and benevolent institutions that buttress and strengthen traditional wisdom and values, process protects those cherished things from rapid change.

In a world governed by imprudent and vindictive institutions, however, that claw, gnash, and tear at traditional wisdom — that usurp traditional values — the “process” merely fools us into believing that what these institutions are doing is normal, when in reality it is profoundly abnormal.

I can’t honestly say I care all that deeply about “conservatism” anymore, if I ever truly did. What I DO care about is America as the Founders envisioned it. I care about the values codified in their Constitution, which I do believe remains far and away the most brilliant, visionary, and timeless document on what does and does not constitute a legitimate government of, by, and for a free people, along with the Declaration, the Federalist Papers, and the correspondence shared between several of the key figures most responsible for creating them.

I care about the fact that those men, those precious and incomparable documents, and the government they bequeathed to us have all for many decades been under relentless assault by vermin unfit to clean the privy stall of giants among men like, say, Washington, Jefferson or Adams with their own tongues. I care that these vermin have succeeded so wildly at besmirching so much that was good in the world, bringing Virtue to Her knees in the muck and mire. I care about stopping these vermin. I care about ridding this land of them, as near to permanently as may be. I care about punishing them, by the harshest and most extreme measures imaginable, pour encourager les autres.

I like JD Vance, and I do not give a tinker’s damn whether Bret Stephens and the rest of his ivory-tower ilk thinks he’s a “conservative” or not.

He’s a man who doesn’t “care if Google is a private company, because they have too much power; and if you want to have a country where people can live their lives freely, you have to be concerned about power — whether it’s concentrated in the government or concentrated in big corporations.”

He thinks our corporate overlords would happily satiate us with whirling gizmos and gadgets while capturing our culture and selling us out to China. This places him directly at odds with tired, established Republicanism, which would prefer to slander the ghost of Ronald Reagan while they simp for corporations that work to undermine our national economy, our traditions, our families, and even our children’s sexuality.

Vance is also a man who doesn’t “really care what happens to Ukraine one way or another,” and thinks “it’s ridiculous that we are focused on” their border over our own.

Far more than Ukraine, he cares “about the fact that in [his] community right now, the leading cause of death among 18- to 45-year-olds is Mexican fentanyl.” This places him directly at odds with all of established Washington, where $5 billion for our country’s border security is too much to ask, but politicians crow about sending six times that amount to defend the sacred territorial integrity of another’s.

Vance is a man who thinks, “If any of us want to do the things that we want to do for our country and for the people who live in it, we have to honestly and aggressively attack the universities in this country.”

“So much of what we want to accomplish,” he recognizes, is “…fundamentally dependent on going through a set of very hostile institutions, specifically the universities, which control the knowledge in our society, which control what we call truth and what we call falsity, that provides research that gives credibility to some of the most ridiculous ideas that exist in our country.”

This once again places him directly at odds with Washington, which every years sends billions in federal aid to colleges and universities, with nary a whimper of a fight.

More broadly, “Vance,” Harpers editor James Pogue writes, “believes that a well-educated and culturally liberal American elite has greatly benefited from globalization, the financialization of our economy, and the growing power of big tech.”

“This,” he continues, “has led an Ivy League intellectual and management class…to adopt a set of economic and cultural interests that directly oppose those of people in places like Middletown, Ohio, where he grew up.”

In other words, Vance knows what time it is.

It’s an excellent piece; you’ll want to read all of it, I assure you.

2

Electric bricks

We used to have a fine old term for this that got used quite a bit back in the 70s: planned obsolescence.

None of these are old cars. In fact, the oldest Spark is younger than the average non-electric car currently in service as a daily driver, which is about twelve years old. Most of these with many more years of useful service left, because they don’t have battery packs that cost more than the car is worth (by then) to replace.

Which is a built-in problem for all electric cars. Some may recall the case of the irate Finnish man who TNT’d his not-very-old Tesla Model S when he found out that replacing its dead battery pack would cost him on the order of $20,000.

But at least a replacement battery was still available.

Without that, you’ve got nothing – no matter how much you’re willing to pay for it. And unlike non-electric cars, there is very little you can do about it – other than eat the loss and move on to the next one. This is because an EV’s dead battery pack is not like a non-electric car’s failed transmission or engine – or even both, together. In the case of the latter, it is almost always possible to swap in a used or remanufactured/rebuilt transmission or engine – and drive on. It is not possible with electric cars for which there aren’t any replacements available, new or used.

And even if the original manufacturer no longer makes new replacement engines/transmissions for a given IC car, these can usually both be rebuilt at a price that’s worth the doing. Electric car battery packs, once dead, are throw-aways – just like the dead battery that no longer powers your sail fawn. At which point, you throw away the sail fawn.

The electric car, too.

The difference being you probably paid a lot more for the electric car.

Interestingly, there has been little-to-no coverage in the general or even the automotive press about this business. It’s interesting – because you can imagine the uproar that would arise if any other barely ten-year-old car was no longer supported by its manufacturer – and had a built-in design feature that assured it would be rendered useless years before it reached the age of the average non-electric car currently in service.

Of course, the reason for the absence of such coverage is because it might call attention to the shorter useful lifespan of electric cars, due to the shorter useful life of their battery packs relative to the useful life of an IC car’s engine or transmission. These are expected to last at least 12-15 years – and most last longer. If they fail sooner, the car – and its maker – gets a well-deserved reputation for shoddiness and most people will avoid buying a car made by that maker.

It is discharge-recharge cycling that ages a battery. Especially “fast” charging. You can limit the damage by not “fast” charging – and not discharging – the EV battery. But then the EV isn’t much use, is it?

No such issue exists with non-electric cars in that driving down to fumes in the tank has no effect at all on the useful service life of the vehicle. A non-electric car that’s 15 or 20 years old holds as much gas in its tank – and travels just as far – as it did when it was new. An electric car’s battery pack is unlikely to be capable of holding the same charge it could when new when it is ten years old – and maybe sooner.

And if there’s no replacement battery available – or it costs more than it’s worth to replace it – the car is useless.

Many people will find out about this after they bought an EV. It probably explains another interesting thing about EVs that the general press (and the automotive press) haven’t covered much, which is that a large percentage of first-time EV buyers didn’t buy a second one.

Yeah, well, you know what they say about “fool me once, fool me twice.” Guess that smug, superior feeling an EV owner gets from knowing he’s being a good, obedient little shitlib and Doing His Part to help save Gaia only goes so far when, after being a full-time pain in the ass the whole time he’s had it, his little toy strugglebuggy shits the bed for good at the exact same time his neighbor’s Focus or Elantra is only just beginning to hit its stride.

2

UNPOSSIBLE!

I have been assured by all the best people that this never happens. It’s all a damnable lie, spread by reich-wing Christian Nazi white suoremacist extremist MAGA insurrectionists who hope to destroy the lives of gay people, and ruin our sacred democracy also.

New York group busts TV news anchor allegedly trying to meet underage boy for sex
When confronted by the filming crew, Wheeler initially attempts to deny the accusations

Can’t blame the filthy pedo for that subhed, it’s exactly what I’d do myself. Hell, who wouldn’t?

A New York group that exposes child-sex predators online busted what appears to be a local TV anchor who was allegedly at the scene to meet with what he thought was a 15-year-old boy.

The group, which goes by 607 Predator Hunters, posted a video to YouTube that appears to show Zach Wheeler, an anchor at NBC affiliate WETM-TV, at a store in an attempt to meet with the underaged boy.

This fine organization is truly doing the Lord’s work. May He watch over and protect them all for their courage, their righteousness, and their willingness to take direct, effective action on their own, rather than sitting back, eyes wide shut, and assuming the cops will take care of predators like this depraved freak. HINT TO THE GORMLESS: They won’t.

When confronted by the filming crew, Wheeler initially attempts to deny that he was at the location to meet or have sex with the teenager, instead insisting multiple times he was only there to “talk” to the kid and warn him to get “off of these apps.”

But when the group doesn’t appear to buy Wheeler’s excuse, he pivots to a more combative tone.

“Why do you guys do this to gay and lesbian people,” he asks, with the group insisting they attempt to catch all pedophiles.


They do NOT “do this” to inoffensive gays and/or lesbians who have done nothing wrong or illegal. Only mentally disturbed, repulsive crawly things like, say, yourself. Get yourself and your abnormal sexual obssession under control; stop arranging play dates with pliable, perpetually horny jailbait who are disturbed enough themselves to be susceptible to the manipulations and self-serving wheedling of sick pedo fucks.

Bottom line: any individual who is so immature and dysfunctional he’s been left incapable of—perhaps even entirely uninterested in—sustaining a healthy, enriching romantic relationship with another likewise mentally-stable adult, homo or hetero, who can offer the properly-informed consent to said relationship, has a moral obligation not just to himself and his partner but to society itself to just stay the hell home and watch Netflix. If that sounds too harsh and uncaring to some of you, well, hey, I don’t give a fuck. Sorry, not sorry. I am bereft of fucks. I have precisely ZERO fucks to give, as can be readily discerned from my GAF-ometer.

In the negative

One more look at a non-analog, more modern-type indicator just to make sure.

Modern alternative

And there we have it. To no one’s surprise, our whining kinkster continues his woebegone attempts to defend the indefensible.

“Are you guys here to ruin people’s lives,” Wheeler asks at another point, noting that the group was going to “ruin my whole entire life” and he is “going to lose my job and everything.” At another point, Wheeler argues that the group is engaging in “cancel culture” because of his job.

Funny as that is, better get ready to laugh yourself sick over this feculent worm’s final desperate try at wriggling off the hook.

The group then confronts him with the chat logs of his conversation with the boy, which at times contain sexually explicit messages.

Wheeler then asks the group if they “need money” and also offers to help them get their organization on TV.

Niiice. Final score? This Wheeler bitch has taken us from ludicrously implausible claims that he’d arrived at the hookup location without hinky intentions; to the completely preposterous contention that his TRUE objective was to warn his underaged boy-toy about the dire perils of the same apps that this instant mentor had installed on his own phone and had recently used to arrange the day’s tryst; to theatrical outrage and self-righteous accusations of anti-gay bigotry; all the way to fumbling attempts at naked bribery—first in the traditional cash-money-up-front fashion, then, when even that ad-libbed gambit had flopped like all the others before it had, we get an exhausted, vanity-based promise that he would use his negligible celebrity to cut a little tit-for-tat deal, if only the Predator Hunters would forget all about what he’d done.

Surely the practically nonexistent possibility that the humiliation and terror of being caught with his whistle in his hand might compel the onanistic fool to abandon his wicked, wicked ways, which delusional bargain must then earn for itself the right to be thought of as a fair and eminently satisfactory exchange for the gift of a fleeting moment of fame and glory? In the words of his brothers-in-sleaze back in Hollywood’s infamous casting-couch days, “I’ll make you a star!”

Of course, forgetting Chubbsy-Ubbsie’s thwarted attempt at a private round of the beloved Where’s The Pickle? game wouldn’t be the only thing the Hunters would have to forget. There’s also trivial items such as their core values; their integrity; their self-respect; their committment to an honorable and needful mission they’d sworn themselves to; their estimation of their own personal worth—all this and more still to be scoured from all recollection. Of course, having erased all such silly, stifling notions from his own memory long ago, it would have to be difficult if not impossible for the fat toad Wheeler to comprehend any unwillingness on the part of his tormentors to just do the same for him now so as to justify letting him slide unmolested, shall we say—a soul-blighting favor they have no desire whatever to grant to a malefactor they don’t know, admire, or like. A twisted creature to whom they owe not the first iota of pity, charity, compassion, or forebearance. A favor that will haunt them for the rest of their lives.

The overdue exposure of this pitiful pudhead’s dirt-cheap depredations, in concert with the steadily-escalating clownish efforts to escape from the hole this dumbass had dug for himself—efforts which only planted him even deeper—is abolutely hilarious to me. It’s become a rare and wonderful thing these days to see an irredeemable filthbag like our Loser Lothario here finally get his just deserts. You can be sure I’ll be watching carefully for the conclusion of this sordid tale. The wheels of justice are already turning: the TV station has quietly suspended him, and removed his bio from the “Meet The Team” section of the WETM website.

Many kudos and congrats to the intrepid 607 Predator Hunters crew on this smashing success. You guys have rolled up your Civvy-Street sleeves and taken up a dirty, difficult, but extremely critical mission, a job nobody else would accept—not even the local police department, who are the ones officially charged with it as an integral part of their job description. 5-0 preferred instead to shirk their clear duty, to their everlasting disgrace—an ignoble act of cowardice and treachery they should all be fired for. In welcome contrast to those lousy bums, you Hunters are doing what so badly needed to be done, manfully taking upon yourselves the burden of some very real risk for the benefit of your families, your neighbors, and your communities.

You are exactly the kind of no-bullshit, stout-hearted, git ‘er done individuals this battered and bruised nation will always and forever need more of. Yours is the heart of the lion, the stubborn tenacity of the wolfpack, and the proud soul of the Minuteman. The true warrior spirit lives on within your breast, never to be quenched, weakened, or tainted by dishonor or corruption. May God continue to bless your noble efforts, and may the number of your fellow Americans who will draw encouragement, inspiration, and motivation from the shining example you’ve set for them be both enormous and continually rising.

10

NASA beclowns humanity

Remember, these are America’s greatest minds we’re talking about here.

NASA to launch naked pictures of humans to space in hope of ‘attracting aliens’

DUDE! Have you seen what humans look like these days? Most of us have devolved into doughy, flubberous tubs of jigglesome goo at this point, barely hardy enough to peel themselves off the dangerously over-stressed sofa and lumber over to the fridge for another desperately-needed snack. The remainder of us hoo-mans are, quite literally, starving—horrifying, dead-eyed skels who more closely resemble Auschwitz survivors about ten minutes after being liberated by Allied forces than anything else.

Not for nothing, folks, but I’m thinking “attract” might not exactly be the mot juste here.

NASA scientists plan to launch pictures of naked humans into space in the hope of luring aliens to us.

The depictions will also include an invitation to respond should an intelligent alien race find the space nudes.

Fortunately, the hypothetical aliens shouldn’t be too shocked by the unsolicited nudes.

The pictures aren’t graphic photographs of naked humans but a drawing of a naked man and a woman next to a depiction of DNA.

The article includes this space smut, which is…well, let’s be charitable and call the pre-K level drawing “good enough for government work” and just leave it at that, shall we?

The main aim of the BITG project is to send a message to any alien civilizations that could be out there.

Scientists think the pixelated illustration of a naked man and woman waving hello could help us finally make contact with extraterrestrials.

Oh, sure. Either that, or guarantee that they will never, ever permit such contact, preferring to make a mad dash for galaxy’s edge instead. NASA’s ridiculous and inartful scribblings are more likely to instill in Marvin the Martian a frantic desire to put as much distance between himself and humanity as he possible can, seems to me. The next passage glosses over something important.

Scientists think a binary-coded message is most likely to be understood by aliens.

The scientists explain in their study: “Though the concept of mathematics in human terms is potentially unrecognizable to extra-terrestrial intelligence, binary is likely universal across all intelligence.”

Across all HUMAN-type intelligence, you mean—intelligence itself being strictly definable in terms comprehensible to HUMANS. Me, you, NASA, everybody—none of us have any clue as to alien physiognomy. We don’t know if they even HAVE brains, never mind how those brains work or how advanced their cognitive function might be. IF they have brains at all. Alien perception of basic physical reality might well diverge so radically from our own as to disallow any possibility of communication between our two species. Such an unbridgeable chasm renders NASA’s fanciful speculation that “binary”—an exclusively HUMAN construct, mind, never independently present in Earth’s planetary bioforms, geology, or atmosphere—is “likely universal across all intelligence” the callow daydream that it most definitely is.

This is where we must pay our respects to an irony so deep, so powerful, so profound it almost has a discernible aroma about it: only our most brilliant scientists and thinkers could be arrogant enough to blithely skate past the abundantly obvious possibility that alien life forms are likely to be so wildly at variance with us in every imaginable way—not to mention the UNimaginable ones, which would of necessity be beyond counting—that the very idea of ANY commonality between us physically, intellectually, or emotionally is patently absurd.

Not so for the good-enough-for-government-work Superbrains of NASA, however. These impeccably well-educated and competent “experts” seem to think it squarely within the expansive ken of such Übermenschen as themselves to make certain assumptions without squandering a second of their priceless time and energy pondering whether or not those assumptions are valid. Funny, innit, that one of the bedrock prequisites which help to not only identify true intelligence but also elevate it from mere gauzy potentiality into a genuinely useful thing—from the nebulous stuff of idle fantasy into real-world practicality—would turn out to be plain, familiar old humility.

Funnier still that arrogance should be the easiest, most natural-feeling attitude for most humans to adopt, the very first resort of both the egotistical but otherwise well-intentioned chowderhead and the conniving scalawag whenever forced to confront his own insufficiency of knowledge, his unwarranted overconfidence, his fallibility—while humility is by far the most awkward, toilsome, and wholly alien-seeming and oblique character trait to summon, much less to maintain. The demands humility imposes are numerous, non-trivial, and painful. But the rewards it bestows are rich beyond belief, a fulsome bounty reinforced and multiplied every time we choose it as our response to challenge or adversity.

Arrogance always makes one look like a goddamned jackass in the end. Worse still, most who succumb to its empty blandishments never even know what utter fools arrogance has made of them, their heads being crammed too far up their own asses to see the light of day. Those capable of inculcating and bolstering a proper sense of humility, on the other hand, will find themselves widely admired and respected for the very trait that did so much to ensure their success, whatever their chosen field of endeavor may be.

They added: “The proposed message includes basic mathematical and physical concepts to establish a universal means of communication followed by information on the biochemical composition of life on Earth, the Solar System’s time-stamped position in the Milky Way relative to known globular clusters, as well as digitized depictions of the Solar System, and Earth’s surface.”

“A universal means of communication.” Do these people even hear their words? Across, what, about 2-300,000 fucking years of the existence of what we think of as “modern” man, no “universal means of communication” has ever been developed. EVER. Dios mio, mankind has never created a universal language in all that time, nor is there the slightest prospect of such a thing on the horizon. But hey, that can’t stop the bright boys at NASA, and why should it? They’ve been sooooo incredibly successful since the halcyon days of the 1960s and 70s, right?

The concept of sending depictions of naked humans to space isn’t new.

The Pioneer plaques sent to space on the 1972 Pioneer 10 and 1973 Pioneer 11 missions, also featured drawings of naked humans.

The plaques are attached to the antennas on the crafts.

They’re still sailing away from Earth to this day.

With nary a peep heard from any of our prospective alien friends from that day to this. Those NASA folks might be smart, but they don’t seem to have learned a whole lot. But hey, I’m probably just too dumb to understand such heady stuff; it’s all probably WAY over my head. So shamed am I by my intellectual inadequacy, I’d never even DREAM of asking the NASA brain trust to explain—in detail and with extensive confirmatory references in the footnotes—exactly what all that taxpayer money bought for us.

Hope those brainiacs will remember to request access to the FBI “evidence” locker so’s they can glom some kiddie-porn to slap onto that phallic launch vehicle of theirs. Celebrating the entire spectrum of human sexual “diversity” is what the modern American “space program” is all about, don’tchaknow.

Oh, and Mooselimbs too. Gotta throw a few Korans in there, maybe a nice set of those checkered kitchen drapes they like to wear on their heads.

1

Tender mercies

Greatest. Auto. Review. EVAR.

‘Suffice to say the A110 absolutely crushes expectations, and your berry hanger’
The absolutely brilliant Alpine A110 is anything but sterile to drive
You’ll have heard how the Alpine A110’s combination of lightness and rightness has earned the admiration of evo’s tillermen. And that’s all well and good, but what’s it like if you’ve just had a vasectomy? To find out, I went to a central London clinic and invited a large, medically qualified man to have a good rummage amongst my underparts, then realised with dismay that I had booked to borrow a low-slung French sports coupe almost immediately afterwards.

The first thing to cross your mind upon seeing the A110 is just how little it is and also how much your balls hurt. You can immediately sense that this is a car from which all excess has been banished, and this impression is reinforced by opening the featherweight aluminium door, which is so lacking in mass that it puts no strain whatsoever on your mangled knacker sack, unlike its low-slung driving position, which is absolute agony.

Once in, you can take a moment to admire the bespoke seats with their one-piece backs and upsettingly unpillowy cushions. You might be interested to learn that these chairs weigh just 13.1kg each, despite fine detailing including quilted leather and a grippy central section that expertly rides your jeans up into the tenderest parts of your plum pouch.

The rest of the interior is, perhaps, a little less successful, featuring a smattering of Renault parts bin components, including remote audio controls seemingly taken from the Renault 19, and the flat keyless entry card from the Laguna, though wrapped in a smart leather case that makes it both more attractive to look at and better equipped to shift awkwardly across your pocket and nudge stoutly into your tenderised clacker hammock.

Okay, that there is some truly inspired stuff. Hats off to Richard Porter for his dedication to his craft, taking one for the team and putting his boy beans in harm’s way to bring us this truly stellar article. Well done, young feller, well done.

“Clacker hammock.” I swear, I just can’t stop laughing at that one.

1

Fun with factz

America’s Governor responds forcefully to calumny most vile.

Florida Governor Ron DeSantis blasted the corporate media on Monday, following reports that he attended the White House Correspondents Dinner in Washington D.C., Saturday night. The event included many of the big names in politics and the media, and was hosted by the White House Correspondents’ Association (WHCA), an organization of journalists who cover the White House.

“I would never attend that. I have no interest in that,” he said when asked about the event during an unrelated news conference in Jacksonville.  “I did not watch it. I don’t care what they do. But for them to advertise me when that invitation was rejected by my office. That is a lie,” DeSantis said, adding later that the reason the corporate media is “so reviled” is because of its habit of perpetuating provable lies.

The confusion came after the host of the event, comedian Trevor Noah, falsely claimed during his routine that DeSantis was in the audience, pointing and waving at someone in the audience as if he were the governor.

“One of my favorites, Ron DeSantis is here. Oh man, I’m actually surprised that he found the time,” Noah said. “You know he has been so busy trying to outmaneuver Trump for 2024. I see you, Ron. I see you, player. I see what you been doing!” the comedian added, pointing toward someone in the audience.

The rest of the twerpy shitlib’s little skit didn’t improve from there, to no one’s surprise, being a tired regurgitation of the same old tired Lefty one-liners flogging the same old tired Lefty hobbyhorses in the same old tired way. If you’re one of those people who thinks watching a no-talent Leftard C-lister reassuring a funnybone-bereft Leftard audience that yes, we really ARE the Smart Ones, oh yes we are!! amounts to a swell way to spend your evening, well hey, have at it, and all the best to ya.

If, on the other hand, you’re the kind of guy who knows a small auditorium’s worth of tightassed, smarmy flatworms, not one of whom would recognize funny if it knocked them down, tore off their skinny jeans, raunched them up the fudge tunnel, and left them a sore-assed heap on the sidewalk tearfully pleading for you to CALL ME! when you see one…well, here, have yourself a little more really funny stuff.

“Why are people saying Governor DeSantis is at the White House Correspondents Dinner!? Because DC Democrats and media (but I repeat myself) can’t stop talking about him even during their nerd prom?” DeSantis spokeswoman Christina Pushaw tweeted on Sunday. “This is wishful thinking/obsession.”

DeSantis expressed his disgust with the media on Monday for getting yet another story wrong while pretending to be “paragons of truth.”

“And so here they are saying how important they are that they’re somehow these paragons of truth, and yet there they are lying about something that is readily verifiable,” he said. “And so the idea that I was there is false the idea that I would have ever gone is false, and why they would want to try to perpetuate a lie about that I don’t know. But I think it just shows you why that cabal of people in DC [and] New York, are so reviled by so many Americans. I think it’s a reputation that’s been well deserved.”

Deserved is right, and many times over.

It’s starting to seem kinda pitiful, don’tchathink, how Leftards carry on trying to poke and prod and irritate people who have clearly moved on, and no longer give a fiddler’s fuck about what they might think, say, or feel about anything. Yet still they persist. Now, that’s bad enough for them, absolutely. But now, with this latest feeble Hail-Mary lunge trying to trip up DeSantis—claiming he was at Nerd Prom when he provably wasn’t, ferchrissakes—all they managed in the end was to look like fools lost in Loserville, mired up to their clavicles with no chance of finding their way out again.

Meanwhile, DeSantis is floating like a butterfly and stinging like a bee, leaving droolcase Proggy canvasbacks baffled, bemused, and punchdrunk, searching frantically about for a neutral corner to go collapse in. If Reagan was the Teflon President, well, I do believe Ron DeSantis is rapidly earning himself a similar nom de guerre. The shitlibs just can’t seem to lay a glove on him no matter how hard they try, and it’s a total gas to watch, as good as 1980’s Hearns/Sugar Ray Leonard classic donnybrook.

One of the bigger reasons I’m such a big fan of Da Gov is that he’s one of a very, very few Righty public figures who are beginning to see the value in the approach I’ve been urging for so long: stop already with the expressions of stunned horror over each day’s fresh new example of hypocrisy, unfairness, double standards, and wheeled goalposts from the Left, as if their reliably bad behavior could be anything more than mere routine by now—just standard, dull fare, not really worth taking note of anymore, if it ever was.

Anyone still genuinely surprised by the Left’s endlessly obnoxious monkeyshines after all this time probably shouldn’t be allowed to leave the house without close adult supervision, lest they fall down a well or some such thing. Their guardian, keeper, or warden needs to remove all sharp objects from the vicinity posthaste, put a large cork on the tines of his fork at dinnertime, and clip a leash around his neck whose other end is attached to the clothesline in the backyard, like my Grandma used to do to my dad when he was a young ‘un so as to keep him from wandering far enough off to get himself in trouble.

Probably the most useful thing any Real American can do whilst we all wait around for the ball to drop and hostilities to commence is to separate and segregate ourselves from Leftists to the greatest extent possible. When forced into any sort of contact or congress with them, we should igjore them when we can, treat them with undisguised contempt when we can’t. Under NO circumstances should we give the least indication that we take them seriously; that their views are in any way worthy of serious consideration; that we respect or like them personally. We should instead think of them as the witless pancrustacean hexapod invertebrates they truly are, worthy only of being stomped on and crushed into noisome goo under our boots.

“What would you Democrats do if a Republican said that?” “Dems won’t like it much when the Republicans treat them the exact same way once we get back in charge again!” “We must not sink to their level! That’s not who we are!” “Oh look, the Leftard protesters trashed the park, but WE always clean up after ourselves!” And perhaps my all-time favorite: “They put 23 of us into the hospital today, but at our rally last week none of them were injured!”

Folks, if you’re talking like this, you are NOT winning, you are LOSING. It’s time and past time to retire all follow-through-free rhetoric, no matter how thunderous. All those with a fucking lick of sense know The Enemy top to bottom, stem to stern, and forwards and backwards by now. Any who DON’T know, or are pretending they don’t, should be put out to pasture and forgotten right along with the aforementioned empty rhetoric. It’s time to start waging this war as if we mean to win the goddamned thing. Note ye well: no war was ever won by talking one’s enemy to death. You have to KILL THEM. You must BREAK THEIR SHIT.

One last Sunshine State-style bitchslap for y’all to groove on. It would seem that when DeSantis The Barbarian hired the endlessly entertaining Chris Pushaw as his press secretary, he accomplished something Trump talked about throughout the 2016 election campaign but, inexplicably, never even came close to actually doing: HIRING THE BEST PEOPLE.


Ouch! That one stung all the way over here. Go get ’em, Christina. Another good ‘un, wherein Pushaw gives Minnesota dunderhead Amy Klobuchar a good pantsing.

Amy Klobuchar @amyklobuchar
Health care decisions should be between a woman and her doctor, not Ted Cruz.

Christina Pushaw @ChristinaPushaw
Replying to @amyklobuchar
So nice to see Democrats taking a stand against vaccine mandates and using the word “woman” instead of “birthing person.”

Oof. So what next, then? Pushaw and DeSantis have effectively thrown down the gauntlet, serving notice to one and all: from here on out, Our Side will be flying the Black Flag as our battlefield standard. No rules, no remorse, no mercy, no prisoners—it’s kill or be killed, and none but the victorious shall survive.


It’s funny ’cause it’s true

Swiped from one of Glenn’s commenters, via WRSA.

CovidAbortion.jpg

If Leftwits couldn’t contradict themselves eighteen to twenty times before lunch every day, they wouldn’t know what to do with themselves. For them, inconsistency isn’t an aberration, a simple error, or an intellectual shortcoming or oversight; it’s a lifestyle.

The sweet, sweet nectar of Progtard tears

Arthur on what the Musk/Twitter brouhaha really means for us.

It is glorious. There hasn’t been this much overwrought reeeeing on social media since the 2016 election and he hasn’t even done anything yet.

Let’s be clear. Elon Musk is not one of us, he is not /ourguy/. Mostly he seems like he is a bit crazy. What he is should be enough though, he is an agent of chaos in many ways like Trump: a goofy billionaire who has enough resources to do crazy crap like becoming President or buying a social media company for $44 billion.

I don’t know if he will make the moderators allow free speech or not. I doubt you will be able to tweet “nigger” on Twitter even with Musk in charge. Maybe old suspended accounts will be reinstated, that would nice so I could have my original account with my real name back although I don’t know what I would do with the other half dozen old suspended accounts. At a minimum I expect to see the Babylon Bee reinstated and hopefully Project Veritas and others on the dissident right who have been suspended like Jared Taylor.

It is a little win for /ourside/ not because Elon is /ourguy/ but because this makes the Left so angry and exposes once again how hypocritical they are. I will bask in the tears, sweet and salty tears, for a day or so but the real fight won’t be won on social media.

Bingo. Musk is an ally of convenience, most likely a very temporary one at that. I can’t say I’ve paid a great deal of attention to the guy until this most recent dustup, and I definitely don’t give a damp fart about Twatter. I do seem to recall that Musk is, or was at least, pretty gung-ho on the Climate Change (formerly Global Warming, formerly Global Cooling, formerly “the weather”) scam, one of the leading indicators of latent shitlibbery.

But after watching Musk dangle the Left entire from his finger like the world’s whiniest yo-yo for the last couple of weeks, Mr Musk is all right with me. As I always say: any time Leftists are upset, Americans are winning. No matter how fleeting the victory is, how insubstantial it seems to be, we should still celebrate each win to the fullest. If nothing else, our revelry is sure to make the agony of Le Progtarde last longer and hurt more. Time for this old CF favorite once again, I do believe.



4
1

Can’t hide this decline

More Blibberin’ Biden.

Something is wrong with President Joe Biden, and everyone knows it.

Last week, Biden was asked if his administration will consider delaying the end of Title 42, a pandemic immigration restriction that allows for fast deportation of migrants illegally crossing our border in the name of stopping the circulation of COVID-19.

Biden started rambling. “No. What I’m considering is continuing to hear from my — my — First of all, there’s gonna be an appeal by the Justice Department. Because as a matter of principle, we want to be able to be in a position where if, in fact, it is strongly concluded by the scientists that we need Title 42 that we’d be able to do that. But there has been no decision on extending Title 42.”

It turned out he was talking about mask mandates on airplanes and other forms of transportation. That raises the issue of consistency: If the administration will continue to push masks on planes because COVID is still a threat, isn’t Title 42 protecting against that same threat?

But it would at least be nice if the president knew what he was talking about.

Who would seriously expect any such thing from a lifelong ProPol marionette like Howdy Doody Biden? Moreover, WHY would they? It’s not as if Gropey ever DID know what he was talking about, even back in the days before the Alzheimers had taken him completely off his chump and he’d started angrily hooting and cawing at lawn statuary out of the clear blue sky, or attempting to engage parked cars, restaurant awnings, and manhole covers in casual conversation.

This isn’t simply misspeaking. He seems fully out of it, and we’re all watching quietly.

So? What’s anybody supposed to do about it, anyway? Vote for Romney or something?

On Friday, Biden tried to comment on Florida’s new Parental Rights in Education law and came out with this word salad: “There’s nothing conservative about deciding you’re going to throw Disney out of its present posture because Mickey Mouse? In fact, do you think we should be not be able to say, you know, ‘gay’? I mean, what’s going on here?”

Yeah, like you’d have the vaguest clue about that.

On Easter Monday, a reporter at the White House asked Biden about Afghanistan. As he started answering the question, a staffer in an Easter bunny costume appeared, waving her arms in front of Biden’s face and ushering him along to a different part of the event.

It’s funny, sure, but it’s also kind of scary.

But mostly funny. It’s only scary to the kind of nebbish thumbsucker who still thinks the President has anything much to do with actually running the country.

Who is really running the show at the White House? The president often makes comments about what he’s “allowed” to say, how many press questions he’s permitted to take and which specific reporters he can call on. Who is making these decisions? Is Joe Biden the president or not?

Sure he is, for the time being at least. But he’s exactly the kind of “President” The Power always wanted for itself, and finally has: a shambling, stumbling, biddable meat-puppet who goes where he’s told to go, does what he’s told to do, and says what he’s told to say. He knows his part in this theater production and is content to play it, leaving him no reason to offer the Men Behind The Curtain any resistance or grief about it except maybe when he’s having one of his “episodes,” or coming out from under the reanimation drugs.

A half-century spent assiduously licking Deep State ass; learning every twist and turn in the Swamp there is; and enlisting his entire family in building one of the most brazen and barefaced influence-peddling, baksheesh, logrolling, and out and out bribery operations the world has ever seen prepared one Joe Robinette Biden, hack of all hacks, to do the bang-up job of pretending to govern the nation while lining his pockets, rewarding his friends, and punishing his enemies we’re now witnessing. The soulless, witless empty suit is certainly no statesman. He isn’t admirable, honorable, nor particularly personable, at least from what I’ve seen and read of him. What he IS, though, is infinitely malleable, unimpeded by any of the usual traits that would tend to cause a normal person to hesitate, hold back, or stay his hand: ethics, empathy, dignity, basic human decency.

Is Joe Biden the President? Of course he is; as a senescent figurehead guiding a senescent country gently into That Good Night, he’s one of the very best fits for the job there could possibly be in America’s twilight years. It’s just that some of us old dogs need to let go of the archaic notions concerning what a President is supposed to be and to do which we had hammered into us all these years and get ourselves right with contemporary reality, that’s all.

4

Just another American “election”

You knew this was coming.

Musk’s Twitter Purchase Fails After 138,000 Board Votes Found Overnight
SAN FRANCISCO, CA—Elon Musk’s bid to purchase Twitter came up short after 138,000 board votes were found at 2 a.m., a company spokesman confirmed Tuesday. Musk had been in talks to purchase the company for $44 billion. 

“We really thought Musk was going to pull this one out,” said Twitter CEO Parag Agrawal. “The yes votes had a strong lead when I went to bed last night, but that was before we counted all the mail-in votes that one of our employees found in locker 142 at the bus terminal.” 

When the final votes were tallied, the takeover bid failed by a final tally of 10 votes for, 138,000 votes against. While the final result came as a shock to most observers, Agrawal said the election was fair. “Twitter takes election integrity very seriously,” he noted. “I can confidently say this was the most secure election in American history.”

Musk, after losing fair and square, went on to level baseless charges of fraud, ballot rigging, and other tampering—wantonly undermining our sacred democracy in so doing—before announcing there would be a violent, seditious protest cum riot cum insurrection held on May 6 in front of Twitter HQ, with the FBI providing hors d’ouevres, party favors, and the Bouncy Castle. Twitter immediately suspended the treasonous Musk’s account for questioning the integrity of what was inarguably an honest, clean, totally above-board election. Now let’s all talk about something else, shall we?

Update! Can’t help but append another sweet Bee-bopper riff.

Eccentric Billionaire Accomplishes More For Free Speech In One Afternoon Than Republicans Have In Decades

Hrm. Better check this one out; I thought it was fanciful satire from the Babylon Bee, but it appears it may be an article from the scalawags over at Not The Bee, being factual and all.

WORLD—According to sources, an eccentric immigrant entrepreneur from South Africa just accomplished more for free speech than Republicans have in decades of controlling the government, wielding Federal power, and spending trillions of dollars.

Experts concur that Twitter being purchased by a private entity instead of publicly owned by shadowy corporate interests and foreign governments will help secure Twitter’s place as a free speech platform. Other changes, such as an open-source algorithm, clear and fairly enforced rules, and a commitment to the free exchange of ideas are expected to accomplish more for freedom and human advancement than anything Republican congressmen have ever done in their entire careers.

“Man, why didn’t I think of doing something like that?” said the Republican Senator. “If you vote for me, I’ll form a committee after the election season to explore the reasons we didn’t think of that!”

To save face, Republicans have promised to cook up something extra special for voters next year in the form of a strong resolution saying free speech is good.

In fairness to Vichy GOPers, though, it really isn’t as if they give much more of a shit about free speech than the Demonrats do. Plus, talking a big game and then spinning their wheels until everyone quits watching and ambles on off to the hot dog stand is sorta their thing, y’know? So it would be only natural for them to react that way this time too; by now, it’s a conditoned response.

Just when you think Florida can’t look any better…

Dammit, I have GOT to move.

Florida Sheriff Urges Homeowners to Shoot Invaders to ‘Save the Taxpayers Money’
A Florida sheriff said that he’s urging homeowners to get gun safety training while encouraging them to shoot home invaders to “save the taxpayers money.”

“If somebody’s breaking into your house, you’re more than welcome to shoot them in Santa Rosa County. We prefer that you do actually,” Santa Rosa County Sheriff Bob Johnson told a news conference several days ago.

Responding to an incident in Santa Rosa County where a homeowner reportedly shot at a repeat offender who attempted to break into their home, Johnson recommended the gun owner take a shooting and gun safety class. The alleged burglar, Brandon Joseph Harris, reportedly had 17 prior arrests on his record.

“If you take that, you’ll shoot a lot better and hopefully you’ll save the taxpayer’s money,” Johnson remarked.

“You’re not in trouble,” he said of the unnamed homeowner. “Come see us. We have a gun safety class we put on every other Saturday.”

Harris wasn’t injured in the incident, Johnson remarked, adding that he “didn’t get hit, and now we have to pay for him,” local media reported. “Some people don’t learn,” the sheriff added. “For us, he is job security. I mean, we deal with him all the time.”

The man has a record stretching back to when he was 13, Johnson said. He had spent more than six years in prison, and he’s now being held on a $157,500 bond, and faces multiple charges, records show.

Looks like DeSantis is not necessarily the only sturdy, sane public official in the Sunshine State. It pains me something awful to reflect on how once widely-accepted attitudes like Sherriff Bob’s perfectly common-sensical approach to eliminating worthless, predatory oxygen thieves from the gene pool have, over time, come to seem radical, even bizarre, to so many of us today.

Freedom of speech: Yer doin’ it wrong

Just in case there was still a shred of doubt left: free and unfettered speech, open debate, and respect for dissenting opinion are NOT the essential cornerstones of Leftist ideology. Quite the oposite, actually; they are to the Left what garlic is to vampires.

Human Rights Watch, ACLU, Amnesty International Clutch Their Pearls in Horror At Elon Musk’s Purchase of Twitter
There has been one salutary effect of the weeks-long efforts of Elon Musk to gain control of Twitter, and the debate over the freedom of speech that ensued: now the Left’s foremost individuals and institutions are out in the open about their hatred for the freedom of speech.

What, they weren’t before? My God, how much more “out in the open” could they have possibly been? Why, next, you’ll be telling me that their affinity for naked tyranny, Red in tooth and claw, is no longer a closely-held secret or sumpin’.

The authoritarian heart of the Left has been exposed, as has their war against the foundational principle of any free society: the right to express oneself even if one’s opinions don’t coincide with those of the powerful and/or moneyed elites. Barack and Hillary hate the freedom of speech and want you to think it’s a dangerous toy, too dangerous for you to play with. And now three pillars of the unctuous and hypocritical Leftist “human rights” establishment, Human Rights Watch (HRW), Amnesty International, and the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU), have come out against it as well.

Reuters, adopting the solemn, even funereal tone it reserves for significant Leftist setbacks, noted Monday that Musk has described himself as a “free speech absolutist” and has called the freedom of expression the “bedrock of a functioning democracy.” That’s exactly what it is, and that’s why Leftists are enraged that someone who believes such things has gained control of one of the foremost means of mass communication in our age. They had become complacent in their control of such outlets, as confident of the rightness of their power as much as any medieval king was in his divine election; but now their hegemony has been severely challenged, and so it’s time to try to shape public opinion by calling out the self-appointed and reliably Leftist “defenders of human rights” to explain to us why this is so very, very wrong.

Deborah Brown, whom Reuters describes as a “digital rights researcher and advocate” at Human Rights Watch, asserted: “Regardless of who owns Twitter, the company has human rights responsibilities to respect the rights of people around the world who rely on the platform. Changes to its policies, features, and algorithms, big and small, can have disproportionate and sometimes devastating impacts, including offline violence. Freedom of expression is not an absolute right, which is why Twitter needs to invest in efforts to keep its most vulnerable users safe on the platform.”

See, it’s all about preventing violence. As the Left relentlessly insists, conservative speech not only leads to violence, but in itself amounts to violence. If Twitter allows freedom of speech, people are going to get hurt.

So fucking what? I’m A-okay with hurting them, and I ain’t just talkin’ superficial wounds neither. You shitlibs wanna kvetch, cavil, and snot all over yourselves about how “conservative speech is viiiiolence!” before crawling off to your Safe Space for a good cry, well, I gots one thing and one thing only to say to that:



Yep, I freely admit it: if being willing to stoop to any excuse at all as justification for running another clip from Tombstone—especially one featuring Val Kilmer’s matchless portrayal of Doc Holliday—I am guilty as charged, and can only throw myself on the mercy of this court. Onwards.

This argument would have a great deal more force if Human Rights Watch had ever called out Antifa or Black Lives Matter violence, or if the “white supremacists” that Biden and Merrick Garland and other Leftists keep insisting are the biggest terror threat the nation faces today actually showed themselves, or if HRW had ever shown concern about Leftist violence against those who dissent from its agenda. But HRW is not remotely consistent; it has never shown any concern for the violence that might arise from Leftist speech.

Au contraire, good sir; HRW, ACLU, SPLC, and all the rest of the letters in the shitlib pressure-group alphabet soup are consistency itself. The way they shamelessly flaunt their rank hypocrisy and self-serving double standards is the very heart and soul of the word. You could set your watch by the boneless little twerps; they’re more reliable than Old Faithful itself.

Update! Sarcasm so caustic it burns the skin.


Not so terribly weird, really. They’re afraid to say a fucking word to the Saudis, or any Muzzrat; they don’t dare, lest the outraged Muzzie(s) start hacking limbs off them, blowing them up in shopping malls, or toppling buildings onto their chowder-filled heads. Musk, not so much. They may hate his guts for being such a rock-ribbed advocate for freedom of speech, and they do, frantically, frothingly so. But they aren’t afraid of him, any more than they are of us.

(Via Stephen)

Libertad update! Sara Gonzales is having way too much fun with the newly Muskified Twitter.


Whereupon girlfriend does indeed get wild up in there, bless her heart. Scroll down and read ’em all, then weep for the agonizing trauma old-line Twatterers are suffering after being forcibly exposed to unfamiliar points of view, fresh new concepts, and opinions that aren’t necessarily congruent with their own.

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