Cold Fury

Harshing your mellow since 9/01

Just another embarrasment

So at long last, here we all are.

Ivanka Trump likes to dance with her young sons to blow off steam when she gets home from work, a cute video she shared on Instagram Thursday suggests.

The video, which has already racked up more than half a million views, shows the always elegant Ivanka, still in her coat, busting a move with three-year-old Joseph while baby Theodore looks on from his high chair. Ivanka captioned the video, “Little moments matter, especially for working moms!! #TBT to an after-work dance party with my boys.” She plugged her new book by linking to a Working Mother magazine article about Women Who Work.

A minor firestorm erupted on the left Wednesday when the State Department retweeted Ivanka’s post promoting the book, in possible violation of a federal ethics rule that bars the use of public office for private gain.

This is possibly the most corrupt thing anyone in government has ever done, according to some of the comments.

And you should read them; the apoplectic, hysterical foaming at the mouth is truly epic.

Know what the truly heartwarming thing is, though—the thing that can’t help but bring a smile to your face regardless of the unhinged lunacy behind it all? Just this: how unhappy must these hapless earwigs be that they could spend even a moment letting themselves be upset by such nonsense? How miserable must someone’s life be—to what depths of intractable unhappiness must they have descended—to reach the point where they could even pretend that something like this could ever matter to anyone, anywhere?

And how much must it gnaw at them that most of us not only will never even hear of this ludicrous “controversy,” but would not give a perceptible damn about it if we did?

Yeah, yeah, I know: it’s all part of their strategy of throwing any and everything they can at Trump hoping something will stick eventually; their “outrage” is phony, their “concern” ginned up, their regard for any sort of “ethics violation” is thimble deep. But if this is the level of desperation they’ve reached, well, I don’t think there’s any possible argument to be made that they’re winning here. As Debra concludes:

So much hateful gnashing of teeth at the sight of a lovely mommy enjoying some quality time with her little boys. It’s pretty pathetic.

Well, sure, it is that, I guess. But it’s also funny as hell.



Okay, I confess to being not entirely sure what to make of this.

If you’re any student of politics, you saw Steve Bannon on the cover of Time magazine in early February — “The Great Manipulator,” it called him — and knew to start the countdown then.

Dead strategist walking.

He’d crossed the line that a politician’s advisers mustn’t, to a place and prominence where only the most foolish of them tread. Or at best he’d failed to prevent the media from tugging him there.

He was fine so long as he was a whisperer. On the campaign trail and on the Potomac, you can whisper all you want.

He was damned the moment he was cast as a puppeteer. That means there’s a puppet in the equation, and no politician is going to accept that designation, least of all one who stamps his name in gold on anything that stands still long enough to be stamped. Or whose debate performance included the repartee: “No puppet, no puppet. You’re the puppet.”

“I’m my own strategist,” the president told The New York Post early last week, and the message to Bannon couldn’t have been louder and clearer if it included a four-letter word.

Trump went so far as to suggest that he was barely acquainted with Bannon before August 2016, when Bannon joined his presidential campaign. Wrong. Trump had been a guest on the radio show that Bannon used to host nine times. But his rewrite of history was telling. Bannon needed to be erased because he was taking up too much space on the page.

Politics is a tricky business, Washington is a treacherous place and Trumplandia is downright brutal. In all three realms, you have to strike the right balance of self-promotion and self-effacement. The media’s no help: We love few archetypes better than that of the brilliant mastermind who’s the real power behind the throne. But the savviest operators find ways to resist that assignment, deflecting as much credit as they claim.

So you guys feel free to correct me if I’m getting this wrong and all, but: the NYT is now reduced to attacking Trump by…defending Steve Bannon? Really? REALLY?

Wow. I have to admit, I’m slackjawed flabbergasted over this one. Trump has them so completely discombobulated I’m gonna have to come up with some new categories here to cope with the contradictory madness emanating from them daily. Like, say, “Shit Or Go Blind,” or something along those lines. I repeat: WOW.

Via Breitbart, whose headline take makes way more sense of this than I’m able to: “NYT: The Media Manipulated Steve Bannon’s Image to Drive a Wedge Between Him and Trump.” Well, yeah, sure. But now they’re gonna openly admit to that? I repeat: slackjawed. Flabbergasted. They continue to have no clue at all as to how to approach destroying Trump. Nothing they’ve tried so far has worked; in fact, each new attempt has blown up in their faces and made their plight worse. They just can’t seem to grasp that we don’t believe or trust them anymore, and no longer care what they may say about anything.

May they remain forever clueless.


Delenda est

The Proggies’ argument isn’t with us. It’s with reality.

Reality is a formidable opponent. It never loses. Sometimes the victory is immediate; in the political, cultural, and economic domains, it may take a while longer. In any human confrontation with the intractable facts of life, physical or historical, the outcome is never in doubt. Ignorance is a serious liability in any transaction with the real world. Denial is ultimately lethal.

It is much easier, of course, to reject or dismiss facts or truths where the damage is not immediate, to conflate “things which are not” with things that “are,” if the harm is deferred to a later date. One can deny sexual dimorphism, for example, and posit 32 different genders or gender identities along with a welter of ludicrous pronouns before the result of such folly becomes evident in cultural degeneration and social collapse. One can refute the fecund marriage of a man and a woman – that is, the family, as the historically validated foundation of a robust, viable, and productive society before social and cultural disintegration inevitably set in. One can suppress the provable fact of differential climate change over the eons and replace it with fashionable and scientifically untenable theories such as man-made global warming before the inevitable economic effects reduce a nation to increasing financial hardship.

This is why the cultural deformities beloved and fostered by the political left are doomed to failure despite their reigning prevalence in the social agency and intellectual discourse of our time. Political correctness; so-called climate change; wide-ranging policies favoring the “religion of peace,” which is actually the religion of perpetual war; the distortions of radical feminism; the celebration of transgenderism; redistributive economics; open borders; no-fault crime; the dilution of educational rigor to promote the canard of “social justice”; the rejection of medical reason; the rampant slaughter of the unborn; the belief in human equality in the realm of talents, merit, and cultivation; the dogged quest for an egalitarian utopia; and many other such perversions – all such convictions and practices fly in the face of reality and will inexorably lead, sooner or later, to civilizational disaster. This too is a fact.

But since culture is a human phenomenon, it is prone to disabling complications, misguided objectives, and various forms of dysfunction. No political movement, philosophy, or culture ever succeeds in mapping the world in which it finds itself. Obviously, some do better than others, judging by the benchmarks of life span, health, general prosperity, and personal freedom. But leftism in any of its apparitions – juvenile Acadianism, eschatological fantasy, welfare statism, neo-Marxism, hardcore communism – is an ideological construction that mistakes the map for the world. Moreover, the map upon which it relies to chart its course is topographically skewed and does not coincide with the world as it is and always will be.

Which is why they’re so completely, utterly, and continuously lost—reality is going to defeat them every time, as of course it must. But see, that’s a good thing; either they lose, or everybody does, us and them.


She’s baaack!

Bill summarizes Hillary!™ (no, not THAT Bill).

She was the wife of a governor and a president who, on her own, totally screwed up her husband’s efforts to impose socialized medicine on America. Afterwards, in a triumph of political nepotism, she became a bootlegging do-nothing Senator from New York, and was then appointed to the position of Secretary of State by Barack Obama as a sop for getting her ass kicked by Obama himself. In that office she distinguished herself with treachery, treason, corruption, and pathological dishonesty.

“Vastly experienced?”

At what?

Why, at being the most perfectly representative example of Democrat-Socialist competence, intellect, veracity, and integrity since Barrack Hussein Obama…or her husband.


A foolish inconsistency

The hobgoblin of little liberal minds.

So they hate Trump but what are these protestors and their media enablers for?

As far as I can tell they are for children but also for killing unborn ones with no restriction, no apology, and no need for a fee. They are for LBGT and women’s “rights,” but ally themselves with Muslims who practice FGM, oppose abortion, treat women like cattle, and promote and engage in honor killings, and advocate death for LBGT people. They are for women’s rights, but want men who think they are women to use women’s washrooms. They are for free speech, but shut down anybody who disagrees with them, and, of course, ally themselves with Muslims who oppose freedom of speech and thought as part of their core dogma. They are against racism but try to stir up old racial animosities and conflicts that had long been resolved, buried, and forgotten. They are for poor working people, but oppose the tax and the regulatory structures that create jobs. They are for poor working people but favor unrestricted immigration that drives down wages, crowds out jobs, and absorbs the funds of public welfare schemes. They want free education for all, but oppose letting poor and middle class people have the right to choose their schools, unlike the rich people who do. They shout “Love Trumps Hate!” as they bash opponents with bricks and poles. They have spent decades denouncing the military, the CIA, the NSA, and the FBI as oppressors of the people, but now want those agencies to sabotage an elected president. The wealthy ones denounce gun ownership and walls but live behind protective shields of men with guns and walls around their exclusive properties. Hollywood stars who made millions living in the land of make-believe denounce non-existent Trumpian “brownshirts” and bravely proclaim their resistance! They are for the environment and prove it by flying to environmental rallies in their private jets. They, well . . . you can go on with this sad litany.

I think when all is said and done we have to conclude that there is a large element of mental disturbance.

Well, of course. You can’t cope with that much cognitive dissonance without being either stupid, crazy, or both.


Teach your children

This seditious, murderous freak is doing just that, apparently. Which oughta scare the hell out of you.

During an anti-Trump protest in Seattle this weekend, an activist associated with the Black Lives Matter (BLM) movement took to the megaphone to voice her support for, among other things, “killing people,” and “killing the White House.”

While she said that, another protester can be heard saying, “Burn it!”

She also says, “White people, give your fucking money, your fucking house, your fucking property, we need it fucking all,” as another protester responds “reparations!”

“Fuck white supremacy, fuck the U.S. empire, fuck your imperialist ass lives. That shit gotta go.”

No, bitch, it’s you who’s gotta go. And go you will. President Trump, with ironclad support from the rest of us, will see to it.

At 1:50 in the video clip, she goes, “And we need to start killing people. First off, we need to start killing the White House. The White House must die. The White House, your fucking White House, your fucking Presidents, they must go! Fuck the White House.”

“Pay the fuck up, pay the fuck up. It ain’t just your fucking time, its your fucking money, and now your fucking life is devoted to social change,” she said.

Oh, that last is certainly right enough. But it ain’t gonna be any kind of “social change” this brain-dead piece of shit will enjoy. Here’s the real payoff, though:

According to the channel that uploaded the clip to YouTube, the activist saying these things is a teacher.

But of course. Per Jim Hoft, she’s a preschool teacher at that. She ought to be immediately fired, stripped of any credentials or licenses she may have so that she may never come within a thousand yards of any schoolhouse environment again, and righteously shunned in any other way decent people can conceive of. She’s unfit for adult society, much less that of young children.

But by all means, keep running that fat yap, Progtard. Let all the world see what you really are, once the micro-thin layer of civilization is scraped off of your filthy, cowardly ass—you, and all the others like you. Your anti-American, totalitarian political party won’t even be able to field a candidate within the next ten years, much less hope to win an election of any sort.

(Via Bill and PJVid)



Wait for it. Wait for it. Trust me.

I am a happily married, young white man. I grew up in a happy, Conservative household. I’ve spent my entire life – save the last four months – as a progressive liberal. All of my friends are very liberal or left-leaning centrists. I have always voted Liberal Democrat or Green. I voted remain in the referendum. The thought of racism in any form has always been abhorrent to me. When leave won, I was devastated.

I was curious as to the motives of leave voters. Surely they were not all racist, bigoted or hateful? I watched some debates on YouTube. Obvious points of concern about terrorism were brought up. A leaver cited Sam Harris as a source. I looked him up: this “intellectual, free-thinker” was very critical of Islam. Naturally my liberal kneejerk reaction was to be shocked, but I listened to his concerns and some of his debates.

This, I think, is where YouTube’s “suggested videos” can lead you down a rabbit hole. Moving on from Harris, I unlocked the Pandora’s box of “It’s not racist to criticise Islam!” content. Eventually I was introduced, by YouTube algorithms, to Milo Yiannopoulos and various “anti-SJW” videos (SJW, or social justice warrior, is a pejorative directed at progressives). They were shocking at first, but always presented as innocuous criticism from people claiming to be liberals themselves, or centrists, sometimes “just a regular conservative” – but never, ever identifying as the dreaded “alt-right”.

About a week before the US election, I heard one of these YouTubers use the phrase “red-pilled” – a term from the film The Matrix – in reference to people being awakened to the truth about the world and SJWs. Suddenly I thought: “This is exactly like a cult. What am I doing? I’m turning into an arsehole.”

It hit me like a ton of bricks. Online radicalisation of young white men. It’s here, it’s serious, and I was lucky to be able to snap out of it when I did. And if it can get somebody like me to swallow it – a lifelong liberal – I can’t imagine the damage it is doing overall.

It seemed so subtle – at no point did I think my casual and growing Islamophobia was genuine racism.

And it isn’t, actually: “Muslim” is not a race. But he knows that already.

The punchline here is the identity of the apparently pathetic, drooling nutjob who could pen such a hot, steaming pile of handwringing asswipery; go check Vox’s post out for the hilarious reveal. Hint: WRONGSKIN!!

Troll level: God-like. Well played, Godfrey, well played. And a humble doff of the ol’ CF chapeau to ye.

Know what the great thing about Leftards is? They just can’t help making it so damned easy for sane people to spoof them like this. They’re worse than poor old Elmer Fudd that way: they set their own traps and then blunder right into them every damned time, spluttering and whining every step of the way. But at least Elmer meant well. The Left, on the other hand, assuredly doesn’t.


To all the screaming garbage babies

You lost. Get over it.

A few days after Trump’s victory, an actress friend of mine received an angry email from a semi-famous filmmaker with whom she’d worked. The filmmaker told her that she was now dead to him; they’d never work together again. His reason? “You liked a Facebook comment telling people to get over protesting the outcome of the election.” I emailed the filmmaker, curious to understand why he would ban an actress with whom he’d enjoyed a mutually profitable relationship, all because she “liked” a Facebook comment that wasn’t even really pro-Trump. His reply?

I’m really in a dark place right now. I actually feel like throwing up. I normally do not get affected by politics but this man, I think because his base represent the vilest people in the country, has gotten to me. Women and Gays rights are friends of mine, my heart goes out to them, I am actually crushed by their hurt and fear and it’s made it hard for me to even do my job. I am regrouping and have de-friended half the people I know.

Oh, get the fuck over yourself. No one cares. Stop making it all about you (a lesson I myself had to learn last week).

Indeed, one of the most satisfying things about the election’s outcome is the fact that the single most self-absorbed, self-important, and self-indulgent group of ninnies in American society—Hollywood celebrities—discovered that their endorsements were as ineffective as the Hitler slur. If you think I received a splash of cold water in the face on election night, imagine being Kanye, Beyoncé, Lena Dunham, Amy Schumer, and the rest of the preening dolts who learned that even with all their money and fame, they were completely impotent against Trump. These cretins are only as happy as their egos are satisfied, so the humiliating loss they encountered is probably hitting them harder than anyone else. And such misery couldn’t be visited upon a worse group of people.

Everyone who tried to make the election about themselves, be they leftists whose lives are centered around identity politics, Hollywood celebrities who somehow think they matter, or me and my self-righteous bitterness, ended up surprised by the outcome. And it’s obvious why. We were blindsided because we were blind to the larger issues, and to the concerns of Americans who don’t exist in our neat little echo chambers. Speaking of that, I’ll cop to one more thing: I really didn’t think the old girl still had it in her. I didn’t think America could surprise me like that. I couldn’t bring myself to believe that the electorate still had enough gumption to flip off the “legitimate” press, the Dem and GOP party establishments, the actors, the singers, the comedians, the professional pundits, the pollsters, the race hustlers, the guilt-trippers, the labor unions, and the “international community.” I thought voters were no longer capable of demonstrating that level of independence.

I was surprised, and happily so.

A lot of people were, happily or otherwise. Sadly, a huge percentage of those who are unhappy about it have proved themselves to be so mentally deficient and unstable as to be pathologically unable to cope. Perhaps they should all be put into some kind of home, as Wodehouse used to say.


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.


I CAN’T be the only one who thinks this…

A lot of chatter out there the last couple days about Cankles’s Resting Loony Face, that phony, over-enthusiastic, gaping-mouthed smile she’s been plastering on her mug on command for a good while now to display false enthusiasm and great joy, which she’d only be capable of feeling if she actually, literally had, say, an NRA member on the rack sticking knitting needles in his eyeballs. Or, say, pulling the wings off helpless flies or something. Ann Althouse called it “…that wide-open-mouth/insane-elation thing with her face,” which is fairly well representative, with most of the commentary I’ve seen focusing on the gaping maw.

But it’s the eyes I find the creepiest and most revealing: wide, rolling, and wild, darting around like pinballs, seemingly not entirely under her conscious control. It reminds me more than anything else of Charles Manson’s famous glare, the glazed-over, wild-eyed expression of a dangerous lunatic. Thomas Lifson piles on:

The specific reference here is standing next to Obama, who is well liked at a personal level by a majority of Americans. But remember that ever since she graduated from law school, she has been standing next to her husband, who is even more than Obama a charming fellow – so charismatic that he was able to charm even Newt Gingrich right after the GOP won control of Congress in 1994. From Hillary’s perspective, her adult life has been one long lesson in being the unlikable one in a very prominent couple.

There has to be a lot of resentment. The stories of screaming matches, thrown lamps, and the rest are credible to me because Hillary has endured a level of private humiliation at her husband’s hands, in ways overt as in all the extracurricular sex, but also in ways completely unintended, the product of her negative charisma.

The result of all this is a burning desire to surpass Bill, to occupy the Oval Office, and get revenge for his casual ease at being liked.

Combine that with the megalomania, the powerlust, and the overwhelming sense of entitlement to rule, and it’s pathology all the way down with this one. But the most perfect comparison for her would be to a fairly advanced robot, and this animation really brings it home:


This horror is entitled “massive_hillary_firmware_malfunction.gif,” and that is EXACTLY what it looks like. Did you ever see anything so false in all your life? A poorly-constructed marionette in a third-rate elementary school puppet show would be more true to life; certainly it would be possessed of an honesty and directness Hillary! will never come within a hundred miles of. Who on earth could possibly be either so stupid, so desperate, or so ideologically fanatical as to buy into schtick this obvious and incompetent?

Never mind; don’t answer that. A high school acting class would probably do The Shrew more good in her quest for power and aggrandizement than just about anything. But it’s way too late for that now, and she seems to have no real talent for it anyway.


College: what happened?

Fred spells it out:

That is how things were. Then came what are roughly called the Sixties, actually the late Sixties and early Seventies.

They changed everything.

The first and worst change was the philosophy that everybody, or much closer to everybody, should go to college. Disaster followed. There descended on the schools huge numbers of adolescents without the brains, preparation, or interest needed for college. They had little notion of what college was for. The very idea of cultivation seemed undemocratic to them, as of course it was. They set out to avoid it. And did.

Since they were not ready, and for the most part could not be made ready, colleges dumbed down courses. Remedial classes proliferated. These worked poorly.  When a graduate of high school can barely read, there is usually an underlying reason why he will never be able to read.

Colleges, which had not been focused on money, realized that these swarms of the intellectually bedraggled paid tuition. Schooling became a business. Tuition rose sharply, much in excess of inflation. Banks, seeing a vast new market, began making student loans and soon learned to tie these loans to the parents’ houses. This kept  the student from escaping by filing for bankruptcy. It was a gold mine.

The universities, become businesses, acted like businesses. They cut costs by using adjunct professors, often of low quality, as academic migrant workers instead of far higher-paid tenured staff. Academic quality dropped further.

Students became customers buying diplomas.  On the principle that the customer is always right, colleges gave them whatever they wanted. One thing they wanted was grades. Grade inflation boomed.

What the students didn’t want was an education, to the extent that they knew what the word meant. They wanted courses that were easy and fun. Soon there were things like “What if Harry Potter were Real?” and “The Comic Book in the Struggle for Gender Equality.” These were vacuous, but the students didn’t know and wouldn’t have cared. They were in a USP—a university-shaped place—that had the form of schooling, such as numbered courses with solemn-sounding titles, credit hours, and buildings with blackboards. They  thought they were in college. They weren’t really, but didn’t really want to be.

College, once a passage into adulthood, became a way of avoiding it. Immaturity and narcissism flourished well into the students’ twenties. This was perhaps because they had never had the experience of having to do things, such as work in a gas station or manage a paper route.  They confused universities with their parents and worked to outrage them. With the righteousness of the still-pubescent, they demanded justice for everything and, having no experience of rational argument, or of thought of any kind, called for the abolition of anything that didn’t suit them. To their delight, they discovered that administrations would cave. Expelling them would have been  a wiser course. They became the prissiest of prissy moralists.

Many professors were products of the Sixties and saw the role of universities to be the pursuit of social change. Students with little desire for learning were content with this. Black students were a particular problem, as they were usually even less prepared than the white. Largely to hide their deficiencies, universities began to abandon the SATs which made unpreparedness obvious. This was said to foster “inclusiveness.”

Universities recruited blacks competitively as evidence of social rightness.  These trophies lacked roots in European civilization, literature, history, sciences and mathematics. They demanded, and got, departments of Black Studies, academic ghettos lowering standards yet further.

Meanwhile the federal government had taken control, almost unnoticed.

And then things got REALLY bad.


Western civ has gone insane

It’s official. And undeniable.

It’s easy to laugh at a grown man in a rubber dog suit chewing on a squeaky toy. Maybe too easy, in fact, because to laugh is to dismiss it, denigrate it – ignore the fact that many of us have found comfort and joy in pretending to be animals at some point in our lives.

To dismiss or denigrate it as pathetic, lunatic absurdity rooted in an excess of juvenile self-indulgence, however, is merely to speak the simple truth.

Although hey, I’m good with laughing at them, too.

Secret Life of the Human Pups is a sympathetic look at the world of pup play, a movement that grew out of the BDSM community and has exploded in the last 15 years as the internet made it easier to reach out to likeminded people. While the pup community is a broad church, human pups tend to be male, gay, have an interest in dressing in leather, wear dog-like hoods, enjoy tactile interactions like stomach rubbing or ear tickling, play with toys, eat out of bowls and are often in a relationship with their human “handlers”.

Kaz, another pup, argues that for some, being a puppy isn’t just a fun mask to try on – it’s how they identify; it’s who they are. “Even when I worked in PC World I would sometimes walk up to people and nip at their shirt,” he says, laughing. “I got in trouble once; someone walked into the PC repair centre and I had part of their dad’s computer in my mouth. But the other staff knew I was like that to everyone. They didn’t find it weird.”

Wanna bet, freak?

Then, of course, there is the sex.

Oh, of course. Somehow, there’s always that. They spend the first part of the article telling us how it isn’t about sex. Until finally, suddenly—UNEXPECTEDLY!—it is. AP says:

When President Clinton orders public schools to install fire hydrants in all bathrooms, only then will true equality be achieved.

And just like that, nobody should be laughing any more. Because the “human-pup rights movement” is coming just as surely as this morning’s sunrise. And since they’ll see it as another great way to destroy the oppressive bourgeois Western values of sanity, normalcy, and healthy human relationships while simultaneously rubbing Duh Patriarchy’s nose in diseased depravity, the Left will be all over it, shrieking and protesting until they finally get their way. Again. You wait and see if they don’t.

Click on through to that first article to enjoy the ridiculousness of the accompanying pics. The look on the face of one pup’s “former fiancee” in the very first one says more than any number of words from me ever could.

Whether we see it as a kink, an identity, a reaction to an early experience, a form of escapism or a fetish, the main thing, says Tom, is that we see it at all; that we know it’s there and accept it. “It feels like you can be gay, straight, bisexual, trans and be accepted,” he says. “All I want is for the pup community to be accepted in the same way. We’re not trying to cause grief to the public, or cause grief to relationships. We’re just the same as any other person on the high street.”

No. No, you most certainly are not. You’re a sicko, a pervert, and a freak. You’re mentally ill, and should be pitied for it. You have serious problems and you need serious help. I myself don’t give a damn what you have to do to get your jollies, but asking me to deny reality and the common meaning of standard English words by accepting you as perfectly “normal” is simply asking more than I’m willing to grant you.

And if you really are “just the same as any other person on the high street,” society is in way more trouble than we previously thought.

Gonna be getting a lot of use out of my new “Freaks” category, I’m afraid.



Inmates, running the asylum.

It was an epochal moment for the military and perhaps for all of society. Screwing up her courage, Air Force First Lieutenant Kara-Ann McBee walked into her commander’s office on the D-Ring of the Pentagon and announced that she was a giant squid.

Kara was slender and tomboyish, with an upturned nose, freckles, and an attractive brush-cut hairdo. She could have been Tom Sawyer’s sister. She did not appear to be a giant squid.

“But I am, sir,” she said, rigidly at attention and clearly nervous. “I’ve known it since I was a little girl. I…sir, I am a squid trapped in a woman’s body. I’m trans-phylum, sir.”

The commander, Colonel R. Boyd Gittim, was stunned. He was a compact, graying man in his mid-fifties, a combat flier who had slipped through the screening process to high position in what insiders called the Five-Sided Wind Tunnel. He was not well suited to the complex personnel issues of the modern military.

Colonel Gittim sighed. He knew of course about LGBT, which he thought of as Lettuce, Bacon, and Tomato, and he knew there existed crucial military questions about whether boys could use the girls room. Squids were too much.

It wasn’t his Air Force any longer, he thought grayly. Wars were fought by remotely-controlled drones now, and the best pilots were probably fifteen-year-old gamers with no social life. They could do it from home by internet. He decided to retire and drink himself to death.

Dacowits needed something to do. Things were slow in the trenches of discrimination. Most victories had been won. A woman commanded the SEALs, who had been disarmed to prevent violence. The new main battle tanks had changing tables, and urinals had been outlawed throughout the services or converted to flower pots to preclude uncomfortable spaces. The warriors of social justice needed a Cause.

Virtual squids were just the thing.

An unenlightened Marine general said “the whole business is crazier than three monkeys in a bag. What is this freak show coming to?” The Washington Post ran an editorial comparing him to Hitler and saying that his attitude would lead to a second Holocaust. Of course, the Post thought that everything would lead to a second Holocaust.

In his last days in office, President Obama ordered that all federal buildings be equipped with litter boxes, saying, “A country as great as America was–is–that all the world wants to be like, and wishes it was, cannot seem to penalize citizens who think they are animals, even if they aren’t–though of course they are. Who are we to decide what kind of animals other people are? Praise Allah.”

This clarion call to probity and fairness echoed around the world and was adjudged to embody the clarity and internal coherence characteristic of Obama’s speeches.

Which, actually, it does.


Peak stupid

Reached it, we has.

Mickey Fearn, the National Park Service Deputy Director for Communications and Community Assistance, made headlines when he claimed that black people don’t visit national parks because they associate them with slaves being lynched by their masters.

Yellowstone, the first national park, was created in 1872 in Wyoming. Slavery was over by then and no one had ever been lynching slaves around Old Faithful anyway. But false claims die very hard.

Now Alcee Hastings, an impeached judge, and a coalition of minority groups is demanding increased “inclusiveness” at national parks. High on their list is the claim that, “African-Americans have felt unwelcome and even fearful in federal parklands during our nation’s history because of the horrors of lynching.” What do national parks have to do with lynchings? Many national parks have trees. People were hung from trees. It’s guilt by arboreal association.

The origin of the bizarre racist lynching theory of national parks appears to be Carolyn Finney. Finney was an actress noted for, apparently, little more than an appearance in The Nutt House. Then she became a cause célèbre for race activists when she was denied tenure by Berkeley’s Department of Environmental Science, Policy, and Management because her work didn’t meet academic standards.

Her supporters blamed racism, rather than her academic shortcomings, and protested vocally.

These days she’s a diversity advisor to the U.S. National Parks Advisory Board. What wasn’t good enough for UC Berkeley is good enough for national parks. She is also the author of Black Faces, White Spaces. In it she claims that “oppression and violence against black people in forests and other green spaces can translate into contemporary understandings that constrain African-American environmental understandings.”

Finney cites the work of Joy DeGruy Leary who invented a Post Traumatic Slave Syndrome that she claims black people suffer from. Affected by PTSS, black people experience “fear and mistrust of forests and other green spaces.” According to Finney, the tree is a racist symbol to black people.

“Black people also wanted to go out in the woods and eat apples from the trees,” Finney explains.” But black people were lynched on the trees. The tree became a big symbol.” Black people are triggered by trees and suffer Post Traumatic Slave Syndrome flashbacks. You can’t expect them to go to on a hike.

What shall we do about the racist trees?

Well, if we’re to follow the example set by the whole transgender-freak bathroom precedent of upending an entire society due to the whims of a tiny handful of mentally-unbalanced people, we’d better get busy bulldozing every last one of them. Before some precious, delicate little flower’s Safe Space has been wantonly violated, don’tchaknow.

This would all be truly hilarious if these lunatics had remained relegated to the role of amusing anomalies like they are in saner societies, rather than putting them in charge like we have.


A failure of vision

They’ve never been right yet. About anything.

To celebrate Earth Day, let’s review predictions made around the time of the first Earth Day celebration in 1970:

  1. Harvard biologist George Wald estimated that “civilization will end within 15 or 30 years unless immediate action is taken against problems facing mankind.”
  2. “We are in an environmental crisis which threatens the survival of this nation, and of the world as a suitable place of human habitation,” wrote Washington University biologist Barry Commoner in the Earth Day issue of the scholarly journal Environment.
  3. The day after the first Earth Day, the New York Times editorial page warned, “Man must stop pollution and conserve his resources, not merely to enhance existence but to save the race from intolerable deterioration and possible extinction.”
  4. “Population will inevitably and completely outstrip whatever small increases in food supplies we make,” Paul Ehrlich confidently declared in the April 1970 Mademoiselle. “The death rate will increase until at least 100-200 million people per year will be starving to death during the next ten years.”
  5. “Most of the people who are going to die in the greatest cataclysm in the history of man have already been born,” wrote Paul Ehrlich in a 1969 essay titled “Eco-Catastrophe! “By…1975 some experts feel that food shortages will have escalated the present level of world hunger and starvation into famines of unbelievable proportions. Other experts, more optimistic, think the ultimate food-population collision will not occur until the decade of the 1980s.”

Always the same hysteria, always the same contrived sense of urgency (“It is already too late to avoid mass starvation,” from number 7 in the list), always the same “solution”: more government, less freedom; more socialism, less capitalism. Funny how that works, innit? Lots more here–and even this is only a drop in the bucket from the bottomless well of lies these transparent tools have drawn from to stampede us ever Leftward.

(Via Maet)


It’s going to get worse

Told ya it was coming. But just wait till some random nut tries to act on it. As they will, again and again.

A new viral rap song that encourages the assassination of Donald Trump and calls for riots if he wins the presidency is being celebrated by the music media.

Entitled ‘F**k Donald Trump’, the track was performed live in front of 20,000 people at the Coachella music festival this past weekend by hip-hop artists YG and Nipsey Hussle.

The lyrics for the song openly invoke death threats against Trump and vow to stage violence if he takes the Oval Office.

A sample:

All the niggas in the hood wanna fight you
Surprised El Chapo ain’t tried to snipe you
Surprised the Nation of Islam ain’t tried to find you

Have a rally out in L.A., we gon fuck it up
Home of the Rodney King riot, we don’t give a fuck

You built walls? We gong prolly dig holes
And if your ass do win, you gong prolly get smoked
F**k nigga, f**k you!

When me and Nip link, that’s Bloods and Crips
Where your L.A. rally? We gon crash your shit

Violent, illiterate, moronic thugs threatening to assassinate a duly-elected president–openly, brazenly, with full-bore Moron Pride and gangsta swagger and no fear of repercussion, from the Secret Service or anyone else. Ladies and gents, I give you your modern Democrat Socialist Party, in the very flesh.

One wonders what the reaction would have been if a group of hillbillies from Alabama had made a music video for a song in which they threatened to kill Hillary Clinton.

No, one doesn’t; one wouldn’t waste one’s presumably valuable time, because one already knows quite well, thanks. And one doesn’t even bother speculating what would have resulted had the KKK done likewise for President Jugears.

You guys know I’ve said many times that nobody should really want another civil war, for all sorts of reasons. But I never claimed there would be NO positive aspects to one. Open season on parasitic criminal-minded leeches like this, with no bag limits, would have to be one of them.

(Via Nemo)


Not a…uhhh, prayer

Cruz has NO chance of being elected president. None.

Kevin Swanson: Yes, Romans Chapter 1 verse 32 the Apostle Paul does says that homosexuals are worthy of death. His words not mine! And I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Jesus Christ! And I am not ashamed of the truth of the word of God. And I am willing to go to jail…

…Now my friends let me introduce to you the next candidate for the office of President of the United States, folks please make welcome Senator Ted Cruz.

That seems a bit extreme. No?

Denunciation of Cruz from NRO and other TDS sources for pandering to and inciting frothing murderous haters for political purposes in 5…4…3…2…never. But wait, it gets even better:

A right wing pastor in the U.S. has blamed parents for allowing their children to read ‘homosexual’ Harry Potter books.

Kevin Swanson, a pastor at the Reformation Church of Elizabeth in Colorado attacked the series by JK Rowling as well as the recent animated children’s film How to Train Your Dragon.

He was speaking at the National Religious Liberties Conference, when he launched into a rant at the fact Harry Potter’s mentor Dumbledore was homosexual.

‘Repent that Dumbledore emerged as a homosexual mentor for Harry Potter.

‘Children are raised to be stumbled by the Dumbledores and Hiccups on How to Train Your Dragon.

‘My friends, America needs to repent.

‘For tens of millions of parents it would be better that a millstone be hung around their neck and they be drowned at the bottom of the sea.’

However, it is not the first time that Swanson has ranted against films and books aimed at children.

Last year he denounced Disney’s Frozen as a brainwashing tool for ‘indoctrinating children into the clutches of homosexuality.’

Good lord, man.

But yeah, go on and tell yourselves that a majority of Americans are going to vote for somebody who embraces this screaming whackadoodle. And that the Democrat Socialists would never, ever DREAM of running ads hanging him around Cruz’s neck like a, shall we say, millstone.

(First jawdropping link via Bill)


Woman (with a schlong) of the year!

More Caitlin Jenner.

It was all fun and games—except when it wasn’t—when Jenner announced he was going to begin playacting a woman for the foreseeable future. As if that wasn’t enough, the transgender lobby prodded their ideal posterboy further Left. Next, ESPN awarded him with its Arthur Ashe Courage Award, and he secured his own reality show, “I Am Cait.”

Enough is enough. Glamour goes too far. Jenner cannot be woman of the year because—kids, close your eyes—he has a penis. Jenner might feel like he is a woman, he might want to be a woman, he might be living as a woman, but thoughts do not generate biology or reality. (I’d like to think I’m a millionaire and living in Turks and Caicos year-round, but that doesn’t make it so.)

The fact that Glamour is even passing this off as some kind of convoluted, uber-progressive fact is absolutely mind-bending. It’s as if we’ve taken the blue pill a long time ago and Neo is actually Trinity. When “The Matrix” is the only working analogy, we have a problem.

By choosing Jenner as woman of the year, Glamour endorses the idea that men are better at being women than we are. Glamour is sending a clear message about a new kind of feminist-driven patriarch, who pushes women out of our spaces and expects submissiveness of their feminist enablers. Transgender women tend to be hyper-aggressive. Remember when Zoey Tur told Ben Shapiro he’s going out in an ambulance? Martine Rothblatt, a transgender woman, graced the cover of New York Magazine as highest-paid female CEO in the nation. Apparently real women can’t cut it, so we’ve got to import men into our ranks to win awards.

Perhaps this just shows a split among liberal feminist types, but doesn’t it seem odd after hearing them rail for years about men setting standards (even for things like heart attack symptoms) that we’re now supposed to be hailing someone who’s lived all his life as a man as an exemplar of all that is good among women? Now women don’t even get to decide for ourselves what marks the best and most impressive qualities of our own sex? That feels ideologically oppressive.

If anything, Jenner should win man of the year for winning woman of the year. Usurping a women’s award is pretty much the most male thing ever, is it not?

Aside from getting to make a little light sport of the fucked-up freak and the twits who bend reality to wallow in a big stinking pile of PC Smug supporting him once again, the main reason I’m posting this is that the idea of turning a couple of their own memes around and using them to tweak Progressivist noses–Jenner as patriarchal oppressor, y’all!–is not one that had ever occurred to me. I like it, I really like it. The Matrix analogy works for me, too–with the Jenner flap, we’re definitely seeing how deep the rabbit hole goes. Nice one, Nicole.


Behead all those who say Islam is violent!

Birds of a feather.

People who say Communism is the most oppressive form of government ever should be drugged and shoved out of planes over the Atlantic Ocean.

Or, y’know, thrown into a gulag or something. THAT will teach those H8TRZ!! all about what’s really oppressive, eh?

Of course, you expect plenty of blank, self-contradictory stupidity from Lefty idiots like this, and you never, ever fail to get it. But in this case, it gets worse, as Rob diligently describes at the link. Really, really worse. Looks like there’s no pustulent belief system too repellent for oozing Left chancres to attach themselves to.

Update! Related, I guess. Tangentially. Which, hey, I really just wanted to use that word, since you don’t get all that many opportunities.

“I wasn’t hurting anyone and I didn’t want to feel segregated out. I didn’t want to be in the gender neutral bathroom. I am (a) girl, I shouldn’t be pushed off to another bathroom,” said Perry.

No, what you are is a sad, confused, mentally ill young boy in a dress who is in desperate need of some competent, un-PC professional help. Sorry, but that’s the way it is; your argument is not with me, but with your chromosomes, hence with reality itself. Deal; it’s a tough old world out there. I really don’t have any interest in seeing you hurt, but hey, it happens sometimes. Life is like that.


Fare thee well, and good riddance Part the Second

Not much reason for any sane person to give much of a damn about Sullivan’s announced retirement from blogging, really. Well, except for the lost amusement at the rhetorical gyrations of a crazed hysteric.

Sullivan, who has worn dozens of hats in his lifetime, is truly unique. He stands astride the worlds of politics, journalism, theology, foreign policy, and applied obstetrics like the Colossus of Rhodes. A former editor for The New Republic — a publication that benefited from his razor-sharp insights on, among other things, the early masterpieces of Stephen Glass — columnist-about-town for Time, the Atlantic, and various Fleet Street rags; a Ph.D in the works of Michael Oakeshott, recognized by true conservatives everywhere as the only conservative thinker of the last four hundred years; and an itinerant blogger whose once-eponymous site has migrated to Time and now the Atlantic, Sullivan is one of those Washington fixtures that fit unusually well on the late-night talk show circuit, as he himself likes to demonstrate. Like a real-life, hyper-garrulous Forrest Gump, Sullivan has been present for, or at least has shared his thoughts — stray, organized, rational, and delusional — on most of the major events of the last twenty five years, at a rate that has only increased since he began blogging (before it was cool) and taking long vacations after pledge drives (which has been cool forever). More impressive than his output is his utter lack of fear of self-contradiction, flights of laughter-inducing hyperbole, public obsessiveness, repeated self-contradiction, betrayals of utter ignorance, and failed attempts to mimic the Bard by coining bizarre neologisms to match his wandering moods.

Few among us have the raw intellectual firepower to go where he has. Fortunately, the internet tubes allow us to track his movements over time – an otherwise dizzying effort made more vertiginous by Sullivan’s kaleidoscopic mind. As with all things Sullivan, the best place to start is with human genitalia.

To say that Sullivan has focused his laser-like mind on human reproductive organs is to engage in an understatement worthy of the master himself. We could simply look at Sullivan’s relentless, years-long focus on circumcision (a relentlessness not well-captured by the internet tubes, as Sullivan’s archives traditionally become difficult to search when he moves from site to site), an unusual genre for a man who will never have children and who is not Jewish or Muslim, though perhaps not so unusual given his general interest in the member in question. One could focus on his decision to start calling a 4,000 year old religious tradition “male genital mutilation,” thus cleverly calling untold generations of Jews child abusers and torturers, a decision that marks the sort of intellectual territory into which only a man bravely unwilling to live in Israel can tread.

But to spend too much time on mere ponderings on the presence or absence of foreskin is to do Sullivan an injustice.

Behold Andrew Sullivan, a man who contains infinite contradictions: A believer in privacy, except a woman’s medical records, who never seemed upset that his preferred horse in the race released nothing besides a one-page “All clear!” note from his doctor; an opponent of the objectification of homosexuals, who objectified at least one, and arguably two, children; a professional journalist with a boundless understanding of not only applied medicine, but also hospital protocol and the art of diagnosis by news clipping and photograph.

Can such a man be constrained by the mere tedium of human physiology? No, such a mind can — must — be drawn to questions of the divine. Such a man, with a mind before whom John Chrysostom, Augustine, Aquinas, Teresa of Avila, Maimonides, Wojtyla, and Ratzinger must bow, has a greater calling before him: Define dogmatically the Catholic Church, as none have before. Do what the Magisterium is unable and unwilling to do, and explain how abortion and homosexuality fit squarely into a faith that has opposed these things for two thousand years.

But we’re not cynics here. Instead, we are devotees trying to track our way through Sullivan’s mental progression, disciples whose only hope lies in understanding how so great a man could so completely whipsaw from a critical view of a man he’d once supported to a sycophantic lay worshiper of another, equally obvious politician.

Some attribute this to President Obama’s pretty face. That’s demeaning. Some attribute it to George W. Bush’s stance on gay marriage – but that would be ridiculous, not merely because it would suggest that Sullivan is a one-dimensional writer obsessed with sex, but also because it would make Sullivan seem like an utter nutter for hating former Vice President Dick Cheney (a proponent of gay marriage and federalism) with the intensity of a thousand suns. (It would also raise questions about the man’s sanity in another way: Candidate Obama was clear that he opposed gay marriage, and occasionally likes to have a good laugh about angry, protesting gays. Yet Sullivan’s admiration continues.)

No. These are too prosaic, too common, too easy to destroy. What could drive a man from admiration and defense for a governor from Texas who hewed to Sullivan’s then-preferred doctrine of subsidiarity to calling him a war criminal? What could so completely rearrange a man’s entire view of the world – other, of course, than some terrible disease afflicting his mind?

The answer is obvious: The Jews.

Ain’t it always?

Full disclosure: Sullivan, along with Glenn Reynolds, was probably the biggest inspiration for my own foray into blogging lo, these many years ago. We even exchanged a few e-mails here and there over those early years, and he was unfailingly polite, kind, encouraging, and just…well, decent. His writing in the aftermath of 9/11, his defense of Western civilization and his condemnation of the barbarians absolutely determined to destroy it, was extraordinarily passionate and perceptive. Sad indeed that he eventually drifted off into what can only be called a mild form of dementia–his perception warped, his focus degenerated into obsession, his passion lapsed into a stereotypically effeminate hysteria.

I don’t even begin to know what to make of his ongoing, pitifully Quixotic insistence that he remains the Lone True Conservative in a world gone mad–akin, one suspects, to his similar assertions about his pick-and-choose brand of Catholicism, amusingly tossed into the mix by Badeaux as “…the man who once rationalized away his faithful-to-some-future-form-of-Catholicism as a bar to supporting legalized abortion in the name of privacy (explaining) that Sarah Palin’s vagina was an open target.”

Here’s my theory: Sullivan was one of many liberals who were bounced temporarily into a shaky, rootless, and ultimately untenable form of neoconservatism as the result of being absolutely terrified witless by the 9/11 attacks. They realized that the multiculti Progressivist center could not hold against wild-eyed, vicious fanatics–that the Democrat Socialists, having been usurped long ago by the America-hating Left, were absolutely useless when it came to national defense–and they feared the consequences of another such attack, which back then seemed imminent. Living as most of them did in DC, NYC, and other obvious urban targets, there was a pretty damned good chance of those consequences being quite personal for them. As an openly, even militantly gay man at least intelligent enough to recognize that in the Muslim world, the debate isn’t over whether to allow gays to pretend to be married but over the best way to wipe them out completely, the consequences for Sullivan himself would have been even more dire.

As years went by without further dreadful mass-casualty attacks (though not for want of trying, and not overseas) and the threat seemed to recede somewhat, though, most of those libtards sheepishly slinked back to the confines of their own ideological comfort zone; think Charles Johnson of LGF, if you need an example. And think Sullivan, whose “conservatism” would be unrecognizable as such to any of his professed ideological mentors, and was always pretty much restricted to matters of national defense only. The utter, risible absurdity of attempting to argue for Kerry or Obama as the “truly conservative candidate” in the ’04 and ’08 elections pretty much speaks for itself there, I think.

I haven’t bothered reading him for years now; his descent into lunatic irrelevance became complete when he put his site behind a paywall, and his once-strong voice had long been replaced by other stronger, clearer, more lucid ones anyway. I wish I could say he’ll be missed, but the truth is, the Sullivan I got so much inspiration and enjoyment out of was gone a long time ago.

(Via Ace)


Chicken Gutz

Lileks deconstructs a deranged idiot.

You don’t want to criticize anyone who gets emotionally distraught by the sight of scrambled eggs. It would seem to be its own punishment. It you are compelled to interrupt strangers’ meals and cry literally over spilled milk, life is hard in a way most of us will never understand. Misery and evil are everywhere, and it’s all you can do to keep from chaining yourself to the cooler where the eggs are stored and hissing “How would you like it if someone ate your eggs?” at every woman who tried to get a dozen jumbos. You could say the speaker has father issues, but only if her dad was Foghorn Leghorn.

She also identifies the chicken known now as “Snow” as “her little girl,” which suggests that she does not have (a) perspective and (b) an actual little girl. If she does, and the actual little girl has grown up hearing a chicken referred to as “your feather sister,” spare some sympathy for her as well.

If someone wants to move the culture toward more humane treatment of chickens, they need to know a few things.

1. Yelling at strangers that their egg-salad sandwich is the moral equivalent of supporting Third World underage sex slavery might not be as persuasive as you think. What’s more, if egg consumption is the equivalent of infanticide, people might wonder why you just sorta leaped over the whole actual infanticide part of modern society and went straight to weeping conspicuously over unborn birds.

3. One of the Direct Action Everywhere videos tells the tale of a rescued chicken named Peanut Butter. Note: Peanut Butter is delicious.

5. When you show pictures of cute pigs to Chipotle diners, you are not blowing the minds of people who think the pork carnitas came from a plant pollinated by pink bees with curly tails. Everyone knows where pork comes from. Everyone knows piglets are cute. But you are up against a culture that will watch cute-pig videos while drinking bacon-flavored vodka and define the experience as “the Circle of Life.”

7. Another video describes how you “shut down” a Chipotle because your protests showed they have something to hide. Yes, that’s how it works. Some people come in the store and start yelling, and the manager phones the home office: “They’re on to us! Chickens are the moral equivalent of human children! What do I do?” Actually, you just made pests of yourselves on private property, confident the manager would not come out from behind the grill with a sock filled with BBs and start swinging. This is also the reason you do not go to a Texas BBQ festival and start kicking over smokers. You are counting on the basic decency of people you believe are murderers of Chicken Girls.

As I said in a previous post: they ought not to be able to count on that forbearance any longer. They ought instead to get that sock full of BBs right in their fat yaps, hard enough to make their eyes rattle around in their empty heads like pinballs. At the very least, they ought to be grabbed up by the hair, vigorously hustled out of the restaurant with their arms bent back up between their shoulder blades, and tossed face-first onto the sidewalk out front. Anything less only encourages them.

Oh, and if any of you youngsters are wondering about my title: explanation here.


Cower in place

Howzabout just shooting them several times instead, eh? No?

On September 8, NBC’s Today Show featured “Rossen Reports: How to prevent, survive home invasion” (see accompanying video). NBC being what it is, none should be surprised that a firearm within quick reach was not among the recommendations for protecting one’s family, life and home from predatory criminals. In fact, that option was not even mentioned.

Instead, the show’s guest, Wallace Zeins, a former NYPD detective and hostage negotiator, suggested entrusting your life (and your children’s lives) to…bug spray:

Buy a can of wasp/hornet spray in the hardware store or in the supermarket, because this is so potent. It’s more powerful than police mace. The great part is that if you spray it, it will go 20 to 25 feet.

Wonderful . . . but a .45, or a 12 gauge, will go considerably farther than that, and you won’t have to specifically target the invader’s eyes to get useful results.

“Investigative correspondent” Jeff Rossen, perhaps realizing on some level that a 250 lb., methamphetamine-fueled sociopath might be a bit harder to stop than an annoyed wasp, decided to address the worst case scenario: that your attacker, rather than being persuaded to stop when sprayed with insect poison, merely becomes unhappy, and has you in his power. What should you do then, he asks Zeins:

Rossen: They’re holding you guys downstairs on a couch like this, saying, “Where’s the money? Where’s the jewelry?” Do you tell them?

Zeins: Absolutely. You want to treat them like royalty.

Oh, I absolutely, positively assure you I want to do no such thing. Quite the opposite, in fact: I want to treat them like the thieving, violent, amoral scum they are. I want to hurt them badly, if not kill them outright, and I want to make sure they’re prevented from committing any further heinous atrocity against anyone else if I can possibly do it.

Home invasion–any robbery, really, but especially home invasion–is by definition a crime of violence, even if it doesn’t devolve into direct physical assault causing bodily injury in a particular instance. By its very nature it evinces a complete disregard for the life and well-being of the victim, and of his right to be secure in both property and person. The “submit and let them have what they want” mentality is wholly moronic not least because it puts said victim in the position of gambling his very life on the decency and good will of someone who has already demonstrated he possesses neither. As such, it is worse than merely moronic; it is cowardly, despicable, and immoral.

No mention of the efficacy of peeing yourself in terror as a response, a la the preferred “liberal” method of dealing with rape. But maybe they just ran out of time and didn’t get around to it.


Opens mouth, removes all doubt

Lest you think what I’ll be referring to from now on as Obama’s half-a-war was ever going to be anything but exactly that.

America is not going to “war,” per say, according to Secretary of State John Kerry and White House Press Sec. Josh Earnest. No, what they envision is merely another counter-terror operation. Just like the supposedly model operations ongoing in nearly imploding Yemen, or in Somalia, which has become synonymous for ‘basket case failed state.’

While traveling in the Middle East to shore up support for what everyone sure thought was going to be a war to “degrade and destroy” ISIS, America’s chief diplomat took the opportunity to clarify the president’s thinking.

“What we are doing is engaging in a very significant counter-terrorism operation,” Kerry said. “If somebody wants to think about it as being a war with ISIL they can do so, but the fact is it’s a major counter-terrorism operation.”

“I don’t think people need to get into a war fever on this,” the secretary of state added.

You guys begin to see, no doubt, what I meant when I said a nation like this one–skipping merrily hand in hand straight into Third Rate Power status, led from behind by purblind fools like these–has no business even dreaming of thinking about considering waging war against IS, or anyone else excepting perhaps the smallest rural Boy Scout troop (hey, they’re abominable homophobes, they deserve it!), right? But wait: it gets even more ludicrous, as more regime flacks don the fright wigs and big red noses, shitting in their oversized hats:

The White House’s insistence that the present campaign is merely a continuation of George W. Bush’s War on Terror is unlikely to quiet the increasingly loud voices in Congress demanding a vote on a new authorization.

Okay, well, even if we’re playing legal games with the word “war” and are trying to avoid the politics of getting the people’s representatives to sanction military action abroad, at least there is a plan for victory, right?

“What does victory look like here?” Earnest was asked on Thursday. “What does destroy mean?”

“I didn’t bring my Webster’s dictionary,” Earnest replied.

…How droll.

Droll indeed–yet unfunny at the same time. Because the truth is, he really, really doesn’t have any idea how to answer the question, and neither does his jug-eared boss, nor a single other one of the faculty-lounge bozos piling out of the regime Klown Kar and tripping over their big floppy shoes. Ace says:

Allah Pundit has made a great point in the past: The New Class has given Obama a pass on all of his warmaking largely because — well, apart from the animal pack mentality aspect of just supporting him because he’s Of Their Tribe — Obama claims to be morally conflicted about Blowin’ Shit Up, whereas Bush the Cowboy Blew Shit Up but then declared to the nation that Blowin’ Shit Up was required for the purposes of Justice.

Now, if you notice — which the New Class seems to not have — Shit is gettin’ blowed up in either case, whether the President gives speeches like Henry the Fifth or whether he gives them like Hamlet.

So apparently the New Class’ objection to Bush really wasn’t about Blowing Shit Up — they applaud (reluctantly) when Obama Blows Shit Up — but just about the words and tone used to communicate the facts that Shit Will Be Blowed Up.

Kerry is claiming this isn’t a war for two reasons. For one thing, he is running a Pretend War, where he pretends we’re not at war so as not to cause his passionately stupid Democrat base to deal with the shock of Orwellian doublethink doubling upon itself too much and then breaking from the weight of it all.

But the other thing he’s doing is saying, “Unlike those other Barbarians, when we bomb people and kill people and shoot drones on people’s heads, and introduce American soldiers into harm’s way, we’re kind of meh about it. Yeah we’re doing it, but we’re not like Totally Into It, and that should make all the difference.”

Does it?

To Progressivists, yes; yes, it does. In fact, for the to-seem-rather-than-to-be Dreamers, it’s everything. And suddenly, the fear and loathing of clowns some children have seems a lot more sensible.

This regime–in fact, the whole country now–is based on nothing but illusion and fantasy. Think of it: the economic information released by them–particularly the unemployment stats–are pure fiction, with no connection at all to the actual numbers on unemployment, productivity, or inflation, simply leaving out great swaths of unpleasant truth to paint us all a pretty, reassuring picture. Our military is being slowly eviscerated, leaving a mere sad ghost of its former self in place to rattle its high-tech chains and moan unpleasantly at enemies as ruthless, deadly, and determined as any civilization has ever faced. The regime is spending money like drunken sailors in an Olongapo whorehouse, further ballooning a national debt already so grotesque that all the money on Earth–literally–couldn’t pay it off.

The annual State of the Union address has become the State of the Union show, consisting entirely of lies and fabrications liberally salted with utter fantasy: declarations of the success of programs that didn’t work; lists of initiatives that will never be taken; exhortations to a greatness we long ago pissed over and abandoned; catalogs of failure and defeat followed by backslapping and congratulations for a success and a victory that never was, and never will be.

Our–well, yours, maybe, not mine–“president” routinely and quite knowingly stages debates with straw men, setting them up and then rhetorically knocking the stuffing out of them again and again. He struts about like the roughest, toughest banty in the chickenhouse, his frail, sunken chest puffed out and his ragged coxcomb high, bloviating and talking tough about “destroying” enemies he doesn’t wish to fight and has no intention of or plan for actually defeating. He swings around Big Balls he doesn’t actually have, literally or figuratively, and his drooling subjects clap and bark like trained seals as they pretend to delight in the silent sound of them clanking.

We’re Walter Mitty, governed by Chance the Gardner. Who, by the way, is naked.

We’ve constructed the biggest, almightiest house of cards in human history, and now wish to go right on living in it even as a mighty wind slowly begins to curl up and gather force and fury all around us. And I ain’t just talking about the wind emanating from the flapping cake holes of despicable morons like Kerry, either. As Jack Nicholson says in one of the most underrated movies ever: I understand about dreams. I understand about waking up, too.

Sometimes, you don’t wake up from a nightmare; you wake up into one.


Let’s see now, how does one usually deal with a mad dog?

He’s clearly around the bend now: verifiably, clinically insane. Which makes him the perfect Senatorial representative of Leftist “thinking.”

Update! Jeff:

Uh, Harry? It’s called “climate disruption” now. “Climate change” wasn’t polling well.

Seriously, dude. If you’re going to be the mouthpiece for the leftist Executive and surrender the Senate’s separation of powers, at least read the fucking emails your handlers are sending you. Or are they going to have to bring in some other wizened, spittle-dripping geezer to read their releases for them…?

And if they did, would anyone notice? For that matter, how could anyone tell?




"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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