Cold Fury

Harshing your mellow since 9/01

Hey, TeeWee, leave them kids alone!

All in all, it’s just another brick in Lefty’s wall.

Just because adult sitcoms like Modern Family imply that one of the men in a same-sex relationship merely replaces the mother role in the public mind, that does not make it true. In fact, it is an idea that manages to be insulting to both women and homosexual men. Throughout the years of the sitcom, the audience was supposed to pretend that a real daughter being raised by two men would never quietly pine for the absent mother. The audience was supposed to ignore a primal wound. Children know that a man, no matter how nurturing, is not a mother. And since when did women allow their irreplaceable role to be so dismissed and caricatured?

I would add that children know that a woman, no matter how “masculine,” is not a father. But since the father role has already been pummeled by Western society in recent decades, the removal of the father image in lesbian “marriage” causes few to bat an eye.

And please spare me the trope about “infertile couples can’t be a mom and dad, and they’re still married.” A man and woman who cannot have children are still the image of “mom” and “dad” in the minds of little children. Two men or two women can never be so.

There are solutions to the relentless LGBT push on young children. PBS, public schools, and public libraries are taxpayer-funded. Demand that taxpayer money not go to such efforts, and stand your ground when the inevitable slings and arrows fly. The media will not have your back. Conservativism, Inc. will definitely not have your back. And the Left already hates you with a hot passion. Speak and fight for your children’s right to innocence and healthy development anyway.

The many forces arrayed against your efforts — corporate, social, and political — will vilify you as a bigot and a homophobe. So what? They label so many who disagree with them that Americans are numb to it at this point.

True, most likely, and a big part of the problem. Too many of us are numb, when what we really ought to be is goddamn pissed off. Real damage is being done to our kids, intentionally and for malign purposes. And lest any of you folks think that righteous anger over that is rooted mainly in simple bigotry or a desire to be cruel to LGBTQWERTY types:

We need to speak clearly and plainly. Romantic attraction between adults of the same sex is a purely erotic concept, not an ontological one (i.e., not rooted in a child’s being). Two men pretending to be married on a kids’ show, books about two mommies in public school kindergarten classrooms, and the general LGBT push on young children are controversial not because of “religious differences” or “intolerance.” All of this is controversial because it is wrong to push adult sexual agendas on children, period.

Annnnd bingo. Kinda difficult to comprehend how anyone could argue with that perfectly reasonable assertion, ain’t it?

But the sexualization of children—one of the most crucial core tenets of Marxist ideology right from the start, explicitly spelled out as such in The Communist Manifesto—is one of the more grotesque fronts in the Left’s ongoing war on the traditional family and the values that once upheld it, nothing more nor less. The sudden ubiquity of such sick tropes all over children’s programming is no accident. One only has to observe the near-total success of the Left’s campaign to promote and normalize miscegenation to be concerned about where this latest onslaught might end up going.

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Milkshaking

Now the Left is even ruining milkshakes by politicizing them.

In the grand tradition of primates tossing feces at perceived rivals, leftists in the UK have lately taken to throwing milkshakes at right-leaning figures they hyperbolically refer to as fascists. And as with the multifarious nasty things that they do, they justify it in the name of some “greater good” that they are comically incapable of quantifying or even articulating.

Once again we see the absurd and grating tendency of leftists to justify physical assault based on the warped notion that certain ideas inevitably lead to…well…physical assault.

The trend apparently began early in May when Danyal Mahmud, a 23-year-old Muslim living in England, threw a milkshake in the face of anti-Islamist agitator Tommy Robinson, who was born Stephen Yaxley-Lennon. By Mahmud’s own admission, he had joined a group of leftist protesters in taunting Robinson by chanting that he was “scum”—again, leftists see nothing wrong with dehumanizing others based on the premise that the people they are dehumanizing deserve it because they, um, dehumanize others—before Robinson and some cohorts came over to have a little chat about the prevalence of Muslim grooming gangs in England. Mahmud apparently couldn’t handle the discussion and dumped his shake on Robinson’s head, which immediately led to Mahmud receiving a beating.

Just like a woman who hits her partner and then claims victimhood when he hits back, the man who called Robinson “scum” and assaulted him with a milkshake is now whining that he feels under threat:

I’m a low-key person, I didn’t anticipate this publicity and I don’t want it—I’m getting death threats on social media and I am worried about me and my family being targeted.

Well, good. I’m happy to hear it. Somebody oughta doxx his ass for good measure, pour encourager les autres.

Well, maybe you shouldn’t have targeted him by calling him “scum” and pouring a milkshake over his head, no? (I realize the question is an exercise in futility, because by definition, ideologues are blind to their own hypocrisy.)

Typical mewling, pussified Lefty scum: commit violent assault, then whine like a little bitch when some splashes back on ’em—in this case, literally.

Unless you count the scene in the 1971 film Billy Jack where the local rednecks pour flour over a Native American girl’s head to make her white, I can’t recall the last time an alleged “right-winger” decided to throw food on someone as an act of political protest. And in the film, the rednecks get their brains beaten out by Billy Jack—and it’s considered a perfectly righteous thing to do. And, mind you, this was a movie.

Yet for most of my life I’ve witnessed leftists throw eggs and glitter and pies and shoes at people they consider unacceptably “right-wing.” One thing the leftist press neglected to mention about all those “peaceful anti-racist protesters” in Charlottesville is that they threw urine-and-feces-filled balloons at their perceived ideological opponents and justified it because that’s just what you do to “Nazis.” And though these types would likely cheer the scene where Billy Jack stomps the rednecks into the ground, it never seems to occur to them that they might be begging for a similar ass-whipping.

And if we ever hope to check their ever-escalating violence against us, they need to get those ass-whuppin’s, too. Otherwise, this:

Milkshaking apologists have also scoffed at the idea that this is a slippery slope and that if we justify tossing milkshakes, soon we’ll justify throwing bricks. Sorry, but this has already happened: Muslim activists recently threw bricks at supporters of Tommy Robinson, while an English woman said that Nigel Farage should have acid lobbed in his face. And just as Burger King appeared to suggest that they supported milkshaking, a British beer manufacturer recently said that its clients shouldn’t waste their beer on “fascists” and should instead clobber them with bricks.

And the modern left is so predictable, we all know that even after 100,000 milkshakings, if one intrepid “right-winger” were to respond by knocking out someone’s teeth, this would be all the evidence the left would need to “prove” that the right wing is violent and needs to be exterminated.

Meh, let ’em bawl. They’re becoming more and more up-front about wishing to exterminate us anyway, and like every Leftist regime in history has, they’ll do it if this crap isn’t nipped in the bud sharpish. Like it or not, those teeth need to be knocked out—and more than just a single instance of it, too—simply as a matter of self-preservation. In fact, I’d say preemptively breaking the jaw of any Leftist who gets within twenty feet of you with a milkshake in his hand is no more than sensible. Better make it thirty if Proggie is toting a brick. Better safe than sorry, right?

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Hit ’em high, hit ’em low, hit ’em hard

LOL get fucked.

Poor people have a right to migrate to the United States, and migrants should not be stopped by force, according to a letter from Mexico’s president to U.S. President Donald Trump.

President López Obrador’s May 30 letter, provided by the Wall Street Journal, claimed a migrant’s “right for justice,” saying:

President Trump. Social problems are not resolved by taxes or coercive measures. How do you transform the country of fraternity for the world’s migrants into a ghetto, a closed space, where migrants are stigmatized, mistreated, persecuted, expelled and the right for justice is canceled to those who tirelessly seek to live free of misery?

The letter also suggested that poor Mexicans have a right to migrate into the United States: “It is worth remembering that, within a short period of time, Mexicans will not need to migrate into the United States and that migration will become optional, not compulsory.”

Alternatively, if we marched down to your shithole country in force, kicked your Beaner asses up between your shoulderblades, and took over management of the dump lock, stock, and barrel a la 1847-8, THAT would pretty much settle the question entirely, wouldn’t it now? On the other hand, the problem with Mexico is that it’s full of Mexicans, as ZMan so sagely said. And who wants to tackle the job of trying to govern the demonstrably ungovernable?

Obrador’s letter did not formally reject or accept Trump’s demand that Mexico block the huge Central American migration into the United States, nor did it directly denounce Trump’s threat to impose rising tariffs on Mexico.

Instead, it repeatedly claimed poor people have a right to move into the United States.

Fine and dandy, bub. We’ll see you that one, and raise you OUR right to start summarily gunning the illegal hordes down exactly one micromillisecond after the very next wetback foot sets itself on the sacred soil of Texas, may almighty God forever preserve and protect it. Like Bill says: “You have your ways, and we have our ways.” So go ahead and bluster away to your heart’s content about what you want and expect from us. As the old jet-jock slogan has it: kick the tires, light the fires, first one up’s the winner.

Sadly, I don’t expect any of that to transpire, and neither should you. But seriously, though: have we really been reduced to such a pathetically ineffectual state that runty pipsqueaks with more balls than brains like this toad can openly defy and mock us with total impunity? This is where we’re at now?

REALLY?!?

Never mind, don’t answer that one. On grounds that it may infuriate me.

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School daze

Edjumacashun in da hood, with readin’, writin’, and ‘rithmatic nowhere in sight.

In the Atlanta area in the late ’80s, there was an oversupply of teachers competing for positions in the metro area, especially in the “better” school systems. People with advanced degrees were competing with tenured teachers for the best positions available, which left me to choose from whatever was available.

I finally got an interview with Atlanta Public Schools, which had its headquarters downtown. The interviewer seemed very pleased to have a young, white Emory applicant in her office, so the interview was just a formality. She explained apologetically that there were currently no positions in the “posh” Buckhead schools (the only schools with any measurable white population), but she assured me she would place me in a “good” school.

In the end, I taught a total of two-and-a-half years in two different schools before I walked out in the middle of my third year, giving up on the “tenure” that would have been mine had I finished the year.

I couldn’t make it. Not even another day. In fact, the day after I quit, I went to spend a nice, restful week in one of Atlanta’s premier facilities: the psych ward at Peachford Hospital.

What put me there, you ask?

Spending nearly three years trying in vain to educate (or even control) uncivilized, unintelligent, impulsive, violent, illiterate five- to ten-year-olds, all the while being told that “Every Child CAN Learn,” and that any failure to do so is the fault of incompetent teachers.

During this time, I had suffered through several “evaluations” by my principals, where every little detail of my lessons were critiqued, and every disruptive or off-task act by my students counted as a “lost point” on my overall score.

If I objected, the principal would point to the new teacher next door and say, “Well, Mrs. Hudson is new, and she can control her class.”

Of course, I couldn’t point out that Mrs. Hudson is a 40-year-old, six-foot-tall, three-hundred pound black woman who terrifies me, let alone her students. That would be “racist.” So I persisted in my Sisyphean efforts for months and months, until my psyche just gave out.

The last straw was the day a kindergartner in the class next door brought crack cocaine to school for show-and-tell. He said he found it “under daddy’s mattress.” His teacher poked her head into my class and asked me to keep an eye on her children while she ran the boy up to the office. They called the father and told him to take his child home for the day; no one called child services or the police, for fear the man would get in trouble.

Leaving public school was probably the best thing I ever did, because cognitive dissonance will eventually resolve itself into either all-out psychosis, or an awakening into reality. I emerged a race realist.

Lest you think Atlanta is some sort of special case, back in the 80s my brother’s wife did her fresh-out-of-college nugget tour in the Charlotte-Mecklenburg school system. Less than a year later she emerged shellshocked and wild-eyed, with the exact same kind of horror-stories to tell as the above author. She damned near gave up on teaching altogether, in fact, despite it having been her sole ambition for most of her life.

Read all of this one, if you can bear to. The origins of almost all our present-day problems can be traced right to the government schools and the mess the Left has been allowed to make of them. If we hope to get a handle on those problems, the solution can only begin with taking them back. As Mrs Jennings concludes: “At this point, only politically incorrect solutions can save our country.” Pretty much, yeah. But then that’s only logical, since it was political correctness that wrecked it in the first place.

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He just can’t help himself

No go, Joe.

Democratic presidential candidate Joe Biden stirred ire on social media on Tuesday after he touched a young girl at a campaign rally despite pledging last month to be “much more mindful” about not invading people’s personal space without their permission.

The New York Times reported that the interaction between Biden and the 10-year-old girl happened after she asked him a question about political division in the country.

Washington Post national political reporter Felicia Sonmez also documented the incident, tweeting: “In a somewhat odd moment at tonight’s AFT town hall, Biden tells a 10-year-old girl, ‘I’ll bet you’re as bright as you are good-looking.’ He takes her over to the assembled reporters, then stands behind her and puts his hands on her shoulders while he’s talking.”

“Recall that Biden filmed a video last month in which he vowed to respect women’s personal space,” Sonmez added. “Seems he hasn’t quite gotten the message.”

Far-left activist Sean King tweeted: “What the hell? Please escort this man out of politics. He doesn’t get it. This is so damn creepy. This may be a tipping point, honestly.”

Telling a 10-year-old she’s “good-looking”? REALLY? Guess the New Biden is not quite ready for prime-time just yet. Somebody better throw a bucket of cold water on Gropey Joe and lock him back in the basement for a while pronto, before some irate dad or husband punches his lights out.

What a complete cad.

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Doubling down

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

A new Gillette commercial was released on social media Thursday, showing a father teaching his transgender son how to shave with a Gillette razor.

The advertisement features transgender Toronto artist, Samson Bonkeabantu Brown, as he learns how to shave from his father, following his transition from female to male, according to Fox News.

“Growing up I was always trying to figure out what man I wanted to become and I’m still trying to find out what kind of man I want to become,” Brown says as the ad begins.

The ad shows Brown in front of a sink attempting to shave for the first time as his father coaches him through it.

“Now, don’t be scared, don’t be scared. Shaving is about being confident,” Brown’s father advises.

“I’m at the point in my manhood where I’m actually happy. It’s not just myself transitioning, it’s everybody around me transitioning,” Brown explains as the ad comes to a close. 

So, according to Gillette, grotesquely obese beached whales are the new standard of female “beauty,” and the measure of a “man” is how much of a woman he once was. Got it. I think.

Hey, anybody remember back when Gillette was in the business of selling razors, rather than promulgating politically-correct “teachable moments” so as to enlighten all us ign’ernt troglodytes? Nah, me neither.

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Peeping Tom politics

Rogue, wrong, out of control.

Obama Judges Kill Americans’ Privacy to Help Democratic House Harass Trump
Two Obama appointees just greenlit two of the most invasive Congressional subpoenas for private financial information in American history. Their orders eviscerate and endanger privacy for all Americans.

Gee, imagine my surprise. Note ye well that this balls-out-illegal outrage is for records from a period when Trump A) was NOT President; B) was not RUNNING for President; C) was NOT under suspicion of phony “Russian collusion,” a specious connivance that has now been exposed as such.

Supreme Court precedent “makes it plain that the mere semblance of legislative purpose would not justify an inquiry in the face of the Bill of Rights.” Watkins v. United States, 354 U.S. 178, 198 (1957). Congress cannot “unjustifiably encroach upon an individual’s right to privacy nor abridge his liberty of speech, press, religion or assembly.” Watkins v. United States, 354 U.S. 178, 198 (1957). The Supreme Court warned “there is no congressional power to expose for the sake of exposure.” Watkins v. United States, 354 U.S. 178, 200 (1957). The sole and whole goal must be “collecting information for a legislative purpose” which is limited to “obtaining facts upon which the full legislature can act.” Watkins v. United States, 354 U.S. 178, 200 (1957). This imposes “a jurisdictional concept of pertinency” that constricts inquiries to factual issues needed for legislation. Watkins v. United States, 354 U.S. 178, 206 (1957). This “scope of inquiry” must be “defined with sufficiently unambiguous clarity to safeguard a witness from the hazards of vagueness.” Watkins v. United States, 354 U.S. 178, 217(1957).

“There is no general authority to expose the private affairs of individuals without justification in terms of the functions of the Congress…Nor is the Congress a law enforcement or trial agency. Those are functions of the executive and judicial departments of government. No inquiry is an end in itself; it must be related to, and in furtherance of, a legitimate task of the Congress. Investigations conducted solely for the personal aggrandizement of the investigators or to punish those investigated are indefensible.” Watkins v. United States, 354 U.S. 178, 186 (1957).

Not ONE of which conditions apply here. What this is is yet another completely illegitimate Democrat-Socialist fishing expedition, hoping to unearth something—anything, anything at all—that can then be inflated into a justification for impeachment. It is Constitutionally insupportable; legally without basis; ethically repellent; destructive to whatever tattered shreds remain of national comity; and despicable in every way. It is a low, frankly dangerous abuse of powers the Congress not only does not have, but has been explicitly denied them by the Supreme Court. It is political and personal harrassment, perpetrated by a party running scared and desperate, terrified that all the skeletons lurking in their closet might now rattle into public view. Here’s the telling, and infuriating, part:

The judges’ mutual refusal to stay their judgment pending appeal further reflects the partisan motivation behind their conduct. Anyone think they would have approved Congressional subpoenas into Obama’s still-sealed educational records? Anyone think they would have approved Senatorial subpoenas into Biden’s family finances that concern the large sums of money foreign countries and their agents paid his family during his Vice Presidency under Obama? Anyone think they would have approved wide-scale subpoenas into the activities of the Clinton Foundation during Hillary Clinton’s tenure as Secretary of State?

This judgment presents a risk far beyond the politics and personality of Trump, though it is the premise for the courts’ conduct; these court orders open Pandora’s box for any snooping, stalking, surveilling politician to pry open the most intimate private aspects of any person’s life at any time for any reason as they long as they write a memo to themselves that says: we need this for legislation someday, maybe, kinda.

Does anyone think these peeping Tom politicians will limit their window shopping to Trump Tower?

The legal and political left continues to attack the first freedoms of the Constitutional republic in ways even Orwell thought too implausible to foresee. The failure to protect privacy for those related to Trump is the failure to protect privacy for everyone. Let us hope SCOTUS steps in before 2024 becomes Orwell’s 1984.

Umm, hate to say it, but that ship has already sailed. No matter, though. The Democrat-Socialists are stepping heedlessly onto explosive ground here, still thinking themselves immune to any possible harm. They MUST be stopped, by whatever means necessary to do so, before it’s too late.

Trump needs to resist this indecent assault on his and his family’s privacy, vigorously and uncompromisingly; not only for his own sake, but even more for ours. For our part, we need to support him in that, unambiguously and without reservation. I know, I know, he hasn’t done this, he’s failed at that, he’s only halfheartedly attempted the other. He’s a boob, a blowhard, a deceitful fraud. Doesn’t matter now; he remains our very last chance to stem the Progtard tide politically, without an actual bloody, catastrophic shooting war. I am HIGHLY doubtful that such can be done, even more so with each successive shitlib shitfit. But we gotta try as hard as we can.

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SICK!

Looks like when Trump OUTRAGED!™ the goofball Left by saying Mexico wasn’t sending their “best and brightest” across our ersatz Southern “border,” he just might’ve been onto something.

An illegal alien convicted of raping a dog to death was released by the sanctuary state of Oregon after being sentenced to just 60 days in prison.

As Breitbart News reported, illegal alien Fidel Lopez, 52-years-old, was convicted last month and sentenced to 60 days in prison after raping his girlfriend’s small Lhasa Apso which led to the dog’s death. The judge in the case said he would have given the illegal alien more prison time but that 60 days is the maximum sentence allowed in Oregon.

Because of course it is.

Following his sentence, Lopez was immediately released because he had already served 60 days while waiting to stand trial. Despite his illegal alien status, Multnomah County, Oregon officials released Lopez back into the community.

The Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agency had requested that the illegal alien be turned over to them for deportation should he be released from prison. The sanctuary state officials ignored the ICE request and released the illegal alien into the public.

This subhuman fiend is now back in ICE custody, according to the article, and awaiting deportation. We’ll see how things shake out, I guess. But in any event, Portland will deserve whatever it gets from this guy. I’m kinda thinking if he gets hold of some barren Sanctuary Shitlib’s pwecious little child-substitute half-a-dog next time for an encore performance, at least that one particular weepy moron might begin to rethink a few things—if far too late to do her sweet little BooBoo any good. But I dunno, maybe not.

Of course, the Left’s feeble defense here will be that this is but one extreme case out of many millions. But that entirely misses the point, to wit: EVEN ONE IS TOO GODDAMNED MANY. This depraved fuck shouldn’t be here in the first place; he has no right whatsoever to be here, and should have been sent back long ago, with strict shoot-on-sight orders issued to the Border Patrol should he ever be caught attempting another criminal crossing. The nauseating freak of right ought to be Mexico’s problem, not ours. If Portlandia twits want to make him theirs, well, that’s on them, I guess. May they have joy of their foolish choice.

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Wrack and ruin and race

Did somebody mention barbarians just now? Why yes, I believe someone did.

In 1989, the Virginia Beach party animals called it Greek Week — one of dozens of such gatherings of black college fraternities and sororities up and down the East Coast over a several-year period. All leaving crime, trash, destruction, and excuses in their wake as they were run out of one town after another.

Today, local reporters are eager to minimize the violence from that time or attribute it to white racist police.

But back then, no one in Virginia Beach questioned whether 50,000 to 100,000 black people were creating incredible levels of mayhem by destroying 100 shops, fighting cops, and breaking the law.

They killed a horse. They threw a cinder block at its head.

Um. Well. Okay, then.

Reporters had trouble describing the epic racial violence and hostility that 40,000 black people brought to Virginia Beach in April of 2013. So let’s start here: Black College Beach Week was organized by black people, for black people, promoted by black people, on black radio stations, at black colleges.

They sent buses to pick up members of black fraternities and sororities. And they brought them all to Virginia Beach. And they raised holy, violent, unapologetic, race-conscious hell.

On Fox43 news, a black woman said mayhem and lawlessness at Black Beach Week is nothing to worry about. “I think it’s still fun,” said Kharizma Jackson. “It happens when you get a lot of people together this stuff happens everywhere you go. It’s like that.”

Well, a lot of SOME people, actually. Best not to talk about that, right? Otherwise, one of those “national conversations” the Left is so enamored of might ensue, with all the accompanying risk of a little truth coming out. But as Virginian-Pilot reporter Mark Morrell said, it doesn’t matter; there’s really no need.

PSA: There were no persons of any other race on the videos perpetrating those crimes. None. Not stealing the bikes, or starting the brawls, or any other illegal, crazy action. Have I mentioned any race at all? Nope!!! Because you know exactly what I’m talking about, I most certainly don’t have to. You can identify me all you want, I’m not scared, and I don’t hide behind my screen — or my newspaper. There is an elephant in the room, Pilot. WHATCHAGONNADOOOOO ABOUT IT???

There is some good news here, and it’s at the beginning of the piece. Lest anyone think that the the Va Beach chaos is in any away unique, or an outlier, I will first commend your attention to the requiem I wrote for the end of the annual Myrtle Beach Spring Rally, reachable via the Leatherballs link up top. MYB was one of the longest-running rallies in the country, until it was stopped. I went every single year myself, and loved it. Never failed to have a good time there, each and every year, for well over a decade.

With my Outlaw Biker article, I had committed my first, last, and only act of true journalism: I interviewed people, reported the facts as they were laid out for me, and tried to look at both the impact of the events and where they might lead in the future. The thing is, though, there’s a story behind the story that was given to me, and then presented. I didn’t find this out until much later, and there’s a reason for that.

See, for all those years the MYB Rally had been a gathering mainly of what most would probably think of as old-school biker types: burly, long-haired, tattooed, leather-clad Harley riders. Lots of MC’s were represented, from true One Percenter clubs and their affiliates to the Blue Knights, although patches were generally not flown in the interest of keeping the peace. The thing happened in early to mid May, and the official Rally itself was run by the NC and SC branches of the HD Dealers Association.

The Rally was relatively sparsely attended; I myself only ever went out to it once or twice. Most of us were there for the riding, the bars, the bands, the asphalt flat track races at Myrtle Beach Speedway, and the general atmosphere of raucous, rollicking good fellowship. Oh, and to gawk at all the other Harleys. And the girls, most definitely to include the bare tits that can be found at any biker event.

The week after the H-D event was always known as Black Bike Week. For this one, a somewhat different and darker atmosphere prevailed. The problems at Black Bike Week were legendary. Shoplifting, out of control near-riots, assaults, stabbings, and even murders, discourtesy and outright belligerence, dine-and-dash incidents—all of these things saw a rise during BBW for which the descriptor “stratospheric” is wholly inadequate. Waitresses, bartenders, and retail staff put in for vacation en masse that week; if they couldn’t finagle the time off, they called in sick. Many establishments made it their practice to just shut down for the week every year.

The Myrtle Beach town officials and influential businesspeople eventually decided enough was enough, and started discussing ways to shut the thing down. One problem was noted right off the bat, and, as Morrell said above, you already know what it was. No way could Myrtle Beach put an end to the wantonly destructive, costly, and downright dangerous catastrophe for the area that BBW had become while allowing the H-D event to continue. Nobody needed a crystal ball to see the howls of outrage over “racism,” the national bad press, and the lawsuits coming.

So the decision was made to avoid all the controversy by killing them both off. This didn’t work out too well for the city of Myrtle Beach. The H-D Rally and its accompanying events just relocated to the surrounding beach towns like Ocean Drive, Cherry Grove, and Murrell’s Inlet—and so did the spike in revenues they generated. Attendance fell off at first, but gradually bikerdom got the word and the numbers came back up; oddly, the name didn’t even change. Even Black Bike Week is still going strong up in the town of Atlantic Beach just north of Myrtle, which back in the days of segregation was traditionally the place where blacks went for their beach vacations.

I don’t know if the accompanying anarchy, disorder, and lawlessness are still prominent features of BBW as well. But I bet I could make a pretty good guess.

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Erasing history

And “conversations” that…aren’t.

A few days ago, Kamala Harris, a.k.a. the background dancer who screwed her way to lead singer, was asked by Don Lemon if she supported Sanders’ plan to allow murderers and rapists to retain their voting rights while in prison. “I think we should have that conversation,” said the former “prosecutor.” When I saw the clip, I honestly didn’t mind the evasive nature of her answer. Politicians are evasive by nature; it comes with the job. What pissed me off was the idea that leftists ever engage in a “conversation.” When do leftists ever engage in “conversations”? They adopt a position (often a complete reversal of a previous one), and then they declare the old position to be “hate speech” and those who espouse it “hate criminals.” Where was the “conversation” on trannies in the girls’ bathroom? Where was the “conversation” on there being 1,745 genders instead of two? I don’t recall having those “conversations,” do you? One day, leftists decided that “this is the new truth,” and suddenly people like me get banned from social media for stating the scientific fact that a man can’t wish himself into being a biological woman.

Where was the “conversation” on immigration? I just remember going to bed one night when top Democrats were in favor of strong border control, and waking up the next morning to find that desiring strong border control makes you a Nazi.

If there was a “conversation,” I don’t remember it.

Affirmative action? Forced busing? Court ordered…no “conversation.” And if Democrats, who view voting rights for imprisoned murderers as a race issue (because of the disproportionately high number of blacks and Latinos who’d be affected), decide tomorrow to uniformly support that policy, overnight anyone who opposes it will immediately become Hitler.

Did any Western European leaders have a “conversation” with their constituents about flooding the continent with nonindigenous immigrants? When exactly was that referendum? At least with Brexit, there was a conversation, but has the popular consensus—the result of that conversation—been respected? Of course not.

Leftists don’t “converse.” They impose. And to do this, it often becomes necessary to erase history, ancient and recent. This is done not only to cow the current generation, but to brainwash the next. “Why, Notre Dame always had a minaret! Hell, the building was constructed by Muslims, who were always the majority in France! Just as England was always nonwhite.”

Future Europeans will learn little of old Christendom, but you can be damn sure they’ll know all about Auschwitz. In thirty years, every schoolkid in the West will know about the fifty Muslims killed in New Zealand in March 2019, and none will know of the hundreds of Christians killed in Sri Lanka a month later.

Controlling what we forget and what we remember, what we are encouraged to defile and what we are ordered to hold sacred (like Harlitz-Kern’s holy kazoo), is how you make sure there isn’t a conversation. Leftists understand this better than anyone.

If Stalin taught these bastards anything, it’s that the airbrush is mightier than the memory.

Oh, I think it’s safe to say that Stalin taught them pretty much everything they know. But while we’re talking about erasing history…no. Just…NO. Not just no—HELL NO.

The lawyers and CPAs who run Elvis Presley Enterprises have been threatening the city of Memphis for the past two years with plans to dismantle Graceland—the most hallowed redneck house in the world—and move it to another continent.

They mean this quite literally. They have offers on the table, they say, to bring in redneck historians and lovingly peel up the green shag carpet from the Jungle Room—where Elvis’ last two albums were recorded despite the rushing background noise of the waterfall that spurts out of one wall—and then move all the lacquered wood furniture in the shape of tree stumps to someplace like Dubai, where real estate entrepreneurs like to collect items of Americana and turn them into pop culture museums. It would be sort of like displaying objects from the Titanic if the Titanic had been intentionally sunk in Southampton harbor and then sold off for scrap.

Elvis was from Tupelo, Mississippi, 100 miles to the southeast of Graceland, but he would have been immersed in the African-American music that emerged from the Baptist churches and blues honky-tonks ranged up and down the Mississippi River between St. Louis and New Orleans. Dewey Phillips broadcast that music on Red, Hot and Blue, sometimes even highlighting actual church choirs, but in Memphis the blues and gospel music of black folk ran smack-dab up against all that clog dancing and fiddling that came down through the Appalachian Valley from Scotland, Ulster, and Cumberland. As all Elvis aficionados know, the King was criticized early in his career for singing like a black man, and the term “rock and roll” itself comes straight up out of the slave-based Delta rice fields.

Elvis may not have been black, but his musical DNA was as mixed-race as Alexander Hamilton. Memphis was the place where original black music met original white music. That’s what makes it American, that’s what makes Memphis the Santiago de Compostela of rock and roll, and that’s why you can move Graceland to Nairobi or Edinburgh but you’ll only be telling half the story. If Graceland moves, Graceland dies.

I’ve visited Graceland a couple of times myself—if you have even the slightest spark of affection in your heart for the King, I highly recommend it—and one of the most striking things about the place to me was that, from the backyard right up next to the house, you got an easy view right into the backyards of other houses in the neighborhood. I had always pictured it as being more secluded—at least tucked away behind some high hedges or some sort of privacy fence or something, in the manner of usually what comes to mind with other big fancy mansions.

But no, it was pretty much wide open out there; you could see laundry hanging out to dry on clotheslines all over the place, guys on lawn tractors, old ladies stooped over in their truck patch hacking at weeds, and such. Naturally, those neighbors could likewise see up into Elvis’s yard too. It was kinda cool to imagine the wild, outlandish goings-on Elvis’s neighbors had a bird’s eye view of over the years.

As Joe Bob says: Move Graceland, Graceland dies. Whatever law or ordinance the Memphis city council needs to pass to bring this ill-considered, near-criminal nonsense to a screeching halt, they oughta do it if you ask me. It’s an arrogant affront to history itself. While admittedly nothing like as significant or weighty as Notre Dame, Graceland’s legend is bigger than the present owners seem able to grasp. It doesn’t belong only to them.

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Grotesque

Yes, they really ARE this dumb.

Rabbi Abraham Cooper, associate and director of Global Social Action Agenda at the Simon Wiesenthal Center, called out Rep. Ilhan Omar (D-Minn.) and The New York Times for promulgating the notion that Jesus was a Palestinian.

Omar re-tweeted an April 20 tweet from Omar Suleiman, an adjunct professor for Islamic Studies at Southern Methodist University, who said a Palestinian relative told him regarding the “Christian right”: “Don’t they know we’re Christian too? Do they even consider us human? Don’t they know Jesus was a Palestinian?”

Similarly, an April 19 New York Times piece focusing on various depictions of Jesus Christ’s skin color stated, “Jesus, born in Bethlehem, was most likely a Palestinian man with dark skin.”

Cooper told the Journal in a statement via email that it’s a “grotesque insult to Jesus born in the land of Israel and to Christianity” to say that Jesus was a Palestinian.

“Palestine was a name made up by Romans after they crucified thousands, destroyed the Holy Temple in Jerusalem and exiled the People of Israel from their homeland,” Cooper said.

Myself, I’m somewhat puzzled by Suleiman’s “Palestinian relative” misnomering Easter Worshippers with the recently-forbidden term “Christians,” but what the heck. More knowledge for stupid Leftwits:

The name “Palestine” wasn’t even applied to the land of Judea by the Romans until 100 years after Jesus, after the Bar Kokhba revolt in 134 A.D. The Romans plucked this name out of the Bible (it’s a variant of “Philistine”) as the name of the Jews’ ancient enemies, just to taunt the Jews as they barred them from living in the area. And when they did apply this name, it was the name only of a region, never of a people. There were never any “Palestinians” until they were invited by Yasser Arafat and the KGB in the 1960s. And now the entire Western establishment political class and media expects us to kowtow and repeat this lie.

Yep. But that’s just Proggie SOP, see. Truth is to them as garlic is to vampires.

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Government is just another name for the things we choose to do together

Sickening.

An elderly veteran who ran a business supplying water to fight forest fires was prosecuted by the federal government and sent to prison for digging ponds on his own property, one of his lawyers says.

Joe Robertson, a Navy veteran from Montana, was 78 when he was convicted and sentenced to 18 months in federal prison and ordered to pay $130,000 in restitution through deductions from his Social Security checks.

His crime?

Robertson, whose business supplied water trucks to Montana firefighters, dug a series of small ponds close to his home in 2013 and 2014. The site was a wooded area near a channel, a foot wide and a foot deep, with two to three garden hoses’ worth of flow, according to court documents.

The U.S. government prosecuted Robertson for digging in proximity to “navigable waters” without a permit, a violation of the Clean Water Act administered by the Environmental Protection Agency and the Army Corps of Engineers.

The Supreme Court is expected to decide in April whether it will hear Robertson’s appeal.

Robertson, sentenced in 2016, completed his 18 months behind bars in late 2017.

He was still on parole for the next 20 months when he died March 18 at age 80 of natural causes, according to his widow.

Of course, even his death won’t dissuade the Gummint scum from hounding his bereaved family for the arrears.

His widow, Carrie, has taken up his case, seeking to clear her husband’s name and reverse the fine, which is still in place as a lien against his estate.

I repeat: sickening. Every rotten FederalGovCo son of a bitch in any way involved with this abominable travesty ought to have his balls, if any, stuffed into a Cuisinart and pureed into a fine red mist. Want violent revolution, Swamp rats? This is one of the ways you get yourself one.

Torches, pitchforks, and heads on pikes begin to sound like no more than a good start, don’t they?

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Shit City

The tide is high, and rising.

People are pooping more than ever on the streets of San Francisco
Between 2011 and 2018, San Francisco experienced a massive increase in reported incidents of human feces found on public streets.

In 2011, just over 5,500 reports were logged by the San Francisco Department of Public Works; in 2018, the number increased to more than 28,000.

The government watchdog Open the Books documented the sharp increase over time in a stunning chart, first spotted by the BuzzFeed editor John Paczkowski.

Notably, this is a chart of only documented reports — the actual amount of feces on San Francisco’s streets is likely even higher than these statistics suggest.

Vox gets to the, uhh, bottom of the problem.

The reasons one should support Christian nationalism and Western civilization aka Christendom is not limited to a personal belief in Jesus Christ as Man’s savior. On the political side, even if you lack religious faith, a mere preference for indoor plumbing will suffice.

This is the dyscivilizational reality of the promised shiny, sexy, science fiction seculartopia that was promised by the progressives. Rivers of blood and public streets lined with shit.

Never forget, folks: what they did for once-thriving urban meccas like Detroit and San Francisco, they can do for YOU!

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Edelweiss

It’s one of the loveliest melodies ever written, from a wonderful, uplifting family movie without so much as a “shit,” a “damn,” or a bare tit to be found therein, much less any HEROIC!!! transgender-butt-rape sex scenes. So of course the fuckwit Left has to politicize and then shit all over it.

On Thursday, a New York Post reporter tweeted that President Donald Trump played the song “Edelweiss” at the White House. The New York Times’s White House correspondent, Maggie Haberman, suggested the song was a Nazi anthem, inspiring rightful backlash on Twitter. She seemed to stick with this false view, even after she was called out on it.

As National Review’s Alexandra DeSanctis noted, “Edelweiss” originated in The Sound of Music (1965), an American musical about the ravages of the Nazi rise to power in Austria. The song was a tribute to pre-Nazi Austria and a rebuke to the Nazis.

Don’t even ask: yes, they ARE this stupid. They really, really are.

The moronization of society proceeds apace. As we mentioned on the show, a bigshot New York Times correspondent thinks that playing “Edelweiss” at the White House is some kind of Nazi dog-whistle to Trump supporters. It is tragic and profound the way even small artifacts of our inheritance get trashed in these witless arguments, so, if you want to know the real story of the very last song in the Oscar Hammerstein catalogue, here’s what I had to say a couple of years back:

Not long after Rodgers & Hammerstein wrote the song, Theodore Bikel was leaving the theatre when he found a fan and fellow immigrant waiting at the stage door for his autograph: ‘I love that “Edelweiss”,’ said the theatregoer. ‘Of course, I have known it a long time, but only in German.’

Not for the first time, Hammerstein had done too good a job. Just as his ‘Ol’ Man River’ for Show Boat is assumed by many to be an authentic Negro spiritual, so ‘Edelweiss’ is assumed to be an authentic Austrian folk song. Not so. In both cases, a great craftsman manufactured them to solve a structural problem with the storytelling. But he did it so well that they have become for real what they were only intended to simulate. Some years ago ‘Edelweiss’ was played at the White House, at a state dinner for Austria’s President Kirschschlager, and everyone but the Austrians stood up for the national anthem. Actually, no. The current Austrian anthem is ‘Land der Berge, Land am Strome’, and the only official anthem by Rodgers & Hammerstein is their title number for their very first show, which serves as the state song of Oklahoma.

Steyn, natch, before going on to mention that Kate Smith has also been purged by the juiceless SJW skinbags at Yankee Stadium. Mark winds it up:

Eighty years later, the social-justice wankers can barely comprehend anything written before 2008. So it’s not enough that, hedged in by the ever narrowing restraints of correct attitudes, our age cannot make anything of its own; it is also necessary that the entirety of the past be erased. Hence, at top right, that ludicrous cover-up of the Kate Smith statue in Philly. As I said on Rush, she looks like the third child bride of Mullah Omar.

But that’s what pop culture is reduced to in 2019: a literal cover version of Kate Smith. Incidentally, if Miss Smith’s “God Bless America” cannot be heard because she also sang “That’s Why Darkies Were Born”, why should Bing Crosby get away with singing “White Christmas” on the all-holiday radio playlists every December? After all, in the very film where he introduced that song to the world, he also appeared in blackface!!!

So “White Christmas” should also be banned – unless, of course, Bing happens to be a Democrat Governor of Virginia.

We are in Pol Pot’s Year Zero. The demolishers (as Victor Hugo calls them in our Notre Dame Tale for Our Time) are determined to ensure there will be nothing left.

What else could anyone expect from Pol Pot’s ideological offspring?

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History, revised

Ask a silly question.

We’re all heard stories about young children being punished at school by their socialist teachers for drawing or cutting out pretend handguns, or even for pointing a finger on the playground and saying “Bang! Bang!”

And some of us did sound the alarm about the “slippery slope,” years ago, when the forces of political correctness realized how easy it was to start rewriting history by “digitally editing” old historical photos. After all, why NOT remove the cigarette holder from old photos of President Franklin Roosevelt? You don’t want today’s kids to think it’s OK to smoke, do you?

But surely we’ll never reach the point where gun haters in a U.S. government agency will actually start doctoring images to remove the rifles (the arms with which Americans won and have long defended our freedoms) from the hands of American COMBAT SOLDIERS, will we? — altering an image of a soldier in combat, removing the piece of equipment on which his survival depended, to make it appear that U.S. soldiers CARRY NO NASTY RIFLES when they go to war?

They’ll never go THAT far. Right?

Gee, that’s a toughie all right.

Standing in line at the post office the other day, I noticed a poster on display showing eight newly issued commemorative stamps, along with a sheet of 20, behind glass, of one of the new stamps, called “World War I / Turning the Tide.” In the background of this stamp can be seen a biplane, a shell burst, and some barbed wire. In the foreground, a uniformed and helmeted U.S. doughboy strides bravely ahead, holding close to his chest an American flag.

I have nothing against featuring the American flag on a stamp, mind you. But look at the way that soldier’s arms and hands are positioned. You’ve seen men on combat patrol holding their arms and hands in that position plenty of times. But they weren’t holding flags. 

Does it get worse, you ask? Guess.

I emailed artist Mark Stutzman in Maryland, who designed the “Turning the Tide” commemorative and who had earlier drawn the Post office’s popular 1993 “Elvis” and “Buddy Holly” stamps. In his original design, as submitted, had the American doughboy held a rifle in his hands?

He replied: “Hi Vin, Thanks for writing. Interesting that you should bring this up. My original proposal was with a rifle.”
A source familiar with the back-and-forth between artist Stutzman and the Postal Service told me the USPS “Stamp Advisory Committee” was “a little ‘gun shy’ about the rifle being so prominent.” Stutzman declined to confirm that for the record.

“We debated a few options and settled on him holding the flag instead,” Stutzman told me. “It seemed to bring some patriotism forward and helped identify him as American more immediately. Since stamp images are so small, there’s a need for immediate comprehension. In this case the read of hierarchy is WWI soldier, America, and war (barbed wire, plane, smoke)…I am somewhat speculating on the reasoning for why the decision (to remove the rifle) was made since I got information about committee meetings second-hand through the art director. He may be a better source for info and also have a direct line with the Postal Service. Greg Breeding is his name. . . . Super guy and easy to talk to.”

Not so much. 

Imagine my surprise. Then begins the hem-hawing, slithering-squirming, slip-sliding evasion of the old Bureacrat Shuffle.

After several days of ducking my emails and phone messages, art director Breeding, in Charlottesville, Virginia, finally sent me his polite refusal to talk:

“Hello Vin, Thank you for your interest in the World War I stamp. It was my deep privilege to art director this issuance to commemorate America’s role in bringing World War I to an end. Such an incredible part of our history. Regarding your questions, it is the policy of the Postal Service to direct these types of inquiries to Public Relations…”

Said PR guy “will be happy to assist you and, sometimes, he will subsequently involve the art directors and other Postal employees as well.”

Not so much.

Suprynowicz soldiers manfully on in his bootless quest for a simple, straight answer to his query, but the bobbing and weaving from our putative “civil servants” just continues on and on from there. Y’know, like it does. I guess we can maybe take some small gratification from the fact that even these insensate bureauweasels seem to know that their airbrushing of history is something to be ashamed of, cold though that comfort may be.

(Via MisHum)

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Meat-beat manifesto

This culture cannot survive. And it damned well shouldn’t.

College promotes men’s cuddling group to ‘redefine masculinity’

Oh, you’re redefining it all right, I’ll give you degenerates that fucking much.

Dr. Christopher Liang, a counseling psychology professor at Lehigh University’s College of Education, recently came out in support of a Philadelphia area “Men‘s Therapeutic Cuddle Group,” a function advertised by Lehigh University in a news release. The Meetup.com page for the group currently has 69 members and the group has held 46 events so far. The meetups are held once every other week.

Organizers have established quite an expansive set of guidelines for attendees. The men attending must be “hygienically sound” and “remain fully clothed at all times.” The group’s organizers state that all cuddling is “non-sexual.” However, they do note that participants may become aroused during cuddling

Of course they will.

and that if that occurs, it should be treated as a normal thing.

Oh, absolutely.

Liang believes that “these types of groups can be healthy and helpful for men and women,” according to the news release.

Most especially for men who wish they WERE women, or believe themselves to be, or who are, y’know, gay.

“Traditional masculinity is psychologically harmful,” the APA’s news release said

Well, it surely could be—to YOU, if you ever get within arm’s reach of me.

while adding that “socializing boys to suppress their emotions causes damage that echoes both inwardly and outwardly.”

So who advocates such harmful socializing, pray tell? Might it be—hmmm, I dunno, let’s see now—all you fucking liberal degenerate assholes trying to repress innate behavior hard-coded into male DNA and emasculate them instead? Telling boys their natural, immutable male instincts are “harmful” instead of teaching them correct behavior and providing them with positive outlets for their inborn fondness for competition, physical play, aggressiveness, and such? Teaching them to be ashamed of being male, trying to crush out any spark of normal male behavior to instead brainwash them into mincing, namby-pamby, effeminate little pussyfarts? Encouraging grade-school kids to go ahead and chop their fucking dicks off the moment they show the slightest sign of uncertainty about their own gender identity—a perfectly normal and routine part of the process of growing up, one that will work itself out in due course—for Christ’s sweet sake?

Let’s just acknowledge straight up that there are two, and only two, types of “man” who are going to be interested in this “cuddle group” crapola: 1) the exact species of quivering, lily-livered, useless twerp cranked out on purpose by our abominable schools, and 2) gay men. That is absolutely, positively IT.

And I’ll also acknowledge straight up that I have no problem with gay men myself, and don’t give a damn if they want to snuggle up in groups, make cow eyes, and sigh dreamily on each other’s necks til the cows come home, six days a week and twice on Sundays. If they want to call that “therapy,” well, I’m fine with that too. Whatever gets you through the day, fellas. Ain’t really no business of mine.

No, what frosts me about this bushwa is that this isn’t really a legitimate, above-board effort to service a heretofore overlooked market hungry for this sort of thing; no, it is yet another insidious attempt at societal tinkering by Progwits who don’t really care whether it makes anyone genuinely happy or a better, more fulfilled person. The Left intends to rewrite the manual on what constitutes healthy, normal manhood, as the psych prof in charge himself admits, to redefine men as neutered, enervated…well, as women, actually. Being weak sisters themselves, all a-tremble and continuously in need of a “safe space” and a good cry, they hate the thought of being snickered at by far better men than themselves for their sissy-mary pusillanimity.

Ultimately, it comes back to that social engineering I already mentioned. One world; one government; one bland, uninteresting race; one indistinct gender—all distinguishing traits and quirks blurred, individuality subsumed into the collective whole, with the “experts” lording it over the whole sorry shebang. That’s the Progressivist project in a nutshell, folks; always has been, always will be, until either they conquer us or they are stopped. Period. Fucking. Dot.

The nice thing is, I guess, that these self-selected eunuchs show no interest in reproducing, even the cishet binary oppressors among ’em. So all normal Americans really have to do in the long run is just wait them out. They’ll die off quicker than the dinosaurs without our ever having to lift a finger. So we got that going for us.

(Via Insty)

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One more reason to abandon Gilette

Please, make it stop. PLEASE.


After citing a few facts on the many, many ways obesity is unhealthy in the extreme, Cristina puts the thing simply: “Obesity is not something that should be promoted or celebrated.” And it really, really isn’t. “Slay the day”? Might want to ask your doctor about that one, Jumbo, and pronto. Until you step away from the AYCE buffets and Double Whoppers with Xtra cheese and get yourself on some kind of exercise plan, the only thing you’re gonna be slaying is your jiggly, misshapen self.

For my own part, I’ll say it again: the cheap feel-goodery of this “everyone is beautiful” flapdoodle actually negates the very idea of beauty itself. By definition, beauty is rare; if everyone is beautiful, then “beauty” has been dumbed down to just another synonym for “common.”

Semantic arguments aside, what really IS rare is people who seriously think blubberous, grotesque manatees such as this are in any way beautiful. Well, aside from the statistically-negligible handful of twisted pervs skulking around those chubby-chaser Pr0n sites, that is.

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History, on endless repeat

Any of this sounding familiar at all, to anybody?

U.S. v. I. Lewis Libby is worth revisiting to set the record straight. It also illustrates the damage that can be done to national security by a special counsel who, finding no crime, generates through his investigations the alleged offenses he seeks to prosecute.

With a virtually unlimited budget, a malleable mandate, a single case and little in the way of oversight or time constraints, the special counsel operates outside the usual system of formal and informal checks on prosecutorial conduct. This gives him the power to transform executive branch slip-ups, oversights and faulty recollections into criminal offenses capable of crippling the White House and wreaking havoc on individuals and their families.

According to the conventional view, in the summer of 2003 Mr. Libby compromised national security by unlawfully outing a covert CIA agent. Mr. Libby’s supposed purpose was to punish the agent’s husband, who challenged President George W. Bush’s assertion in his 2003 State of the Union address that the British government learned that Iraq had sought to purchase African uranium. According to the standard anti-Bush account, when Mr. Libby became enmeshed in a federal investigation, he lied to conceal his crime and protect Mr. Cheney.

This account is false in all essential respects, as Mr. Fitzgerald—since 2012 a partner in the Chicago office of the Skadden Arps law firm—had reason, as well as an ethical obligation as an officer of the court, to know.

Scooter Libby did not “out” CIA employee Valerie Plame. That was done by then-Deputy Secretary of State Richard Armitage, a critic of the conduct of the Iraq war. Mr. Armitage disclosed to columnist Robert Novak that Ms. Plame, who at the time held a desk job in the CIA’s Counterproliferation Division, urged the agency to send her husband, retired Ambassador Joseph C. Wilson, to Africa in early 2002 to investigate whether Iraq had sought uranium. Presidential aide Karl Rove and then-CIA Director of Public Affairs Bill Harlow confirmed Mr. Armitage’s disclosure for Novak’s July 14, 2003, column. (Novak died in 2009.)

Mr. Fitzgerald didn’t charge anyone with leaking Ms. Plame’s identity or disclosing classified information to reporters. From the moment he took over the FBI leak investigation in December 2003, he knew that Mr. Armitage was the leaker but declined to prosecute him, Mr. Rove or Mr. Harlow because the disclosure of Ms. Plame’s identity wasn’t a crime and didn’t compromise national security.

Having failed to find any underlying crime, Mr. Fitzgerald nonetheless pressed on for someone to prosecute, eventually focusing on Mr. Libby, whose trial became a contest of recollections. The excruciatingly inconsequential question on which his conviction turned was whether, as Mr. Libby recalled, he was surprised to hear NBC’s “Meet the Press” host Tim Russert ask him about Ms. Plame in a phone call on July 10 or 11, 2003.

Ms. Miller was the only reporter who asserted that Mr. Libby volunteered information about Mr. Wilson’s wife. And Mr. Fitzgerald attached special importance to the journalist’s June conversation with Mr. Libby, declaring, at the 2005 news conference following Mr. Libby’s indictment, that “Mr. Libby was the first official known to have told a reporter when he talked to Judith Miller in June of 2003 about Valerie Wilson.”

If Ms. Miller had testified accurately, she would have dealt a severe blow to Mr. Fitzgerald’s central contention that Mr. Libby was lying when he said he was surprised to hear Russert mention Ms. Plame.

In closing arguments, Mr. Fitzgerald insisted that a “cloud” hung over Vice President Cheney, at whose behest, the prosecutor insinuated, Mr. Libby had compromised national security. Ms. Miller’s revelation—that “it was hard not to conclude that my testimony had been wrong”—erases the cloud that Mr. Fitzgerald’s prosecution, abetted by an enthusiastic media, put over the vice president. At the same time, Ms. Miller’s book casts a dark shadow over Mr. Fitzgerald’s prosecution of Mr. Libby. And it raises troubling questions about what the prosecutor told and did not tell other prosecution witnesses to shape and reshape their memories.

Oh, it raises far more troubling questions than that: it raises the question of just what the hell is WRONG with us, that we sit back and allow the unconstitutional, squalidly banana-republic-style position of “special counsel” to disgrace this nation by its continued existence? It is nothing more nor less than one of the handiest tools in the Deep State box—very useful for tuning, tightening, and maintaining its strangulating chokehold; reining in its (very occasional) antagonists; or just putting the fear of God into all and sundry now and then, a reminder of who’s REALLY the boss around here. Has any truly important or even worthwhile purpose EVER been advanced by its use? Even once?

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The War on Christianity

Is real.

The unlawful arrest of a Christian street preacher in London has drawn attention to the continuing use of hate speech laws to silence Christians in multicultural Britain—even as incendiary speech by Muslim extremists is routinely ignored.

On February 23, Oluwole Ilesanmi, a 64-year-old Nigerian evangelist known as Preacher Olu, was arrested at Southgate Station in North London after complaints that his message about Jesus was “Islamophobic.” A video of the arrest, viewed more than two million times, shows how two police officers ordered the man to stop preaching because “nobody wants to listen to that,” confiscated his Bible and then arrested him for “a breach of peace.”

The video was filmed by Ambrosine Shitrit, co-founder of Eye on Antisemitism, a London-based organization that tracks anti-Semitism on social media. Shortly before Ilesanmi’s arrest, Shitrit had seen him interacting with another man, who turned out to be a Muslim. She thought the Muslim was about to assault Ilesanmi when she went over and started filming with her phone. When the police arrived in response to an emergency call, the Muslim man left the scene.

The video shows Ilesanmi pleading with police, “Don’t take my Bible away. Don’t take my Bible away.” An officer responded: “You should have thought about that before being racist.” A popular blogger known as Archbishop Cranmer tweeted what many people doubtless felt: “Dear @metpoliceuk, Setting aside the appalling ignorance of these two officers, would you handle a copy of the Qur’an like that?”

Ilesanmi said that after he was searched, the police drove him to a remote area before “de-arresting him.” In Britain, “de-arrest” is a legal term which means that no crime has been committed. Since then, London police have changed their story about what transpired; some have accused the police of staging a cover-up.

When journalist Marcus Jones of Premier Christian Radio asked the Met Police whether they agreed that Ilesanmi had been driven away to a remote location, the Met Police expressly denied it. In an email exchange, they said that Ilesanmi was escorted “approximately 200 meters away, de-arrested and shown to a nearby bus stop.”

This, as it turns out, was a lie. The post includes a sickeningly long list of Christian street preachers being placed in chokey on all sorts of specious pretexts. As a Christian myself, I’ll say upfront that I’m not overly enamored of street preachers myself; I was raised in a more modest, quiet denomination (FUMC) that held such public proselytizing to be rude, intrusive, and inappropriate. The theory was that, while not specifically forbidden, for most people it was at best off-putting, which rendered it ultimately ineffectual. Yes, bearing witness and sharing one’s faith is an important part of Christianity. But there is a proper time and place for that sort of thing, which might not be in the middle of a busy city sidewalk, among the jostling, already-harried workaday crowd.

On the other hand, I happened across a street preacher in downtown Charlotte just the other day. He was a disheveled, dirty, homeless-looking guy crumpled on the sidewalk at 4th and Tryon, propped against a big handwritten sign. His marginally-coherent muttering in praise of Jesus, punctuated by the occasional shouted rant, was, umm, somewhat less than compelling, let’s say. Every now and then he would set down his battered Bible to pick up and rattle his beggar’s cup vigorously, soliciting a more temporal, earthly reward for his efforts.

But know what? I didn’t seek to have this unsightly, possibly ersatz Man Of The Cloth tossed into durance vile by the local gendarmerie. Nor was I overly discomfited or alarmed by his ghastly presence. I handled this transgression independently, without complication or undue fuss: I just kept walking on by. Sounds easy enough, right? Unfortunately, the Bobbies seem to feel differently about matters, wielding a much heavier hand in the pursuit of protecting London’s public spaces from encroachment by the abominable affliction of…Christianity.

It’s disgusting, despicable, and not a little alarming. But sadly, tragically even, it’s not shocking.

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Ho hum, just another random nut

Prepare yourselves for the Christchurch mosque killer’s light-speed trip down the memory hole. The “right-wing H88888R!!! Islamophobic bigot™ right-winger” libmedia narrative doesn’t quite seem to be holding up—as usual—so you can be sure the whole thing will very shortly be dropped—as usual—never to be brought up again.

All jihad is local, but all “Islamophobia” is global. So, if a Muslim of Afghan origin shoots up a gay nightclub in Florida and kills 49 people, that’s just one crazed loner and no broader lessons can be discerned from his act. On the other hand, if a white guy shoots up two mosques in New Zealand and kills 50 people, that indicts us all, and we need to impose worldwide restraints on free speech to make sure it doesn’t happen again. I’m ecumenical enough to mourn the dead in both gay clubs and mosques, but I wonder why we are so conditioned to accept Islamic terror as (in the famous words of London mayor Sadiq Khan) “part and parcel of living in a big city” that it is only the exceptions to the rule that prompt industrial-scale moral preening from politicians and media. [UPDATE: Utrecht isn’t that big a city – 350,000 – but it’s today’s designated “part and parcel”.]

The Christchurch killer published the usual bonkers manifesto before livestreaming his mass murder on Facebook. Brenton Tarrant purports to be an environmentalist – indeed, a self-described “eco-fascist” – who admires Communist China (notwithstanding, presumably, its indifference to environmentalism). He wants to massacre Muslims in order to save the planet:

The environment is being destroyed by over population, we Europeans are one of the groups that are not over populating the world. The invaders are the ones over populating the world. Kill the invaders, kill the overpopulation and by so doing save the environment.

Does he mean this? Or is it a giant blood-drenched leg-pull?

No matter. For the the politicians stampeding to the nearest camera to dust off their tropes, what counts is that, if you’re American, Donald Trump pulled the trigger; and, if you’re British or European and you’re not prepared to say that Google-Twitter-Facebook should silence anybody to the right of Trevor Noah, then you’re part of the problem.

Call me a H8888!-filled Islamophobic H88888RRR!™ if you wish, but I confess that among my first thoughts after hearing about this business was to wonder how many future Muslim terrorist attacks had just been forestalled. My second was to wonder where the mosque-goer who seems to have stopped the attack by shooting back might have gotten his gun, how many more of them might be found in storage at this mosque, and what might be the reason for their being there.

I would be interested to know why Mr Adler thinks it is in the national interest to lend the imprimatur of the Crown and the state to as specious and opportunistically deployed a conceit as “Islamophobia”. One of our Antipodean Steyn Club members, Kate Smyth, drew my attention to a fine example of that: After the Islamic terror attack in Melbourne four months ago, Muslim community leaders refused to meet with Aussie Prime Minister Scott Morrison because of all the systemic Islamophobia. After the Christchurch attack, the same Muslim community leaders are demanding a meeting with Morrison because of all the, er, systemic Islamophobia. To say Terror Attack A is something to do with Islam is totally Islamophobic; to refuse to say Terror Attack B is Islamophobic is even more totally Islamophobic.

Were the Queen or the Governor General to pull an Andrew Scheer and sign on to this somewhat selective view of the world’s travails, it would necessarily imply that “Islamophobia” is now beyond and above politics, and in that sense beyond criticism. The use of “Islamophobia” in the Melbourne attack is, in fact, its standard deployment: it is an all-purpose card played to shut down any debate.

Not, of course, that there’s much debate as it is. And there’s likely to be even less in the future. Facebook, which is unable to devise algorithms preventing a depraved psychopath livestreaming mass slaughter on its platform, is busy fine-tuning its controls to expel the most anodyne dissenters from the social-justice pieties. Less speech inevitably means more violence – because, if you can’t talk about anything, what’s left but to shoot up the joint?

Things are changing faster than you think. The urge to change New Zealand’s gun laws might be politely excused as a reflexive response to the means by which an appalling attack was carried out. But the demand throughout the west to restrict both private gun ownership and free speech are indicative of a more calculated clampdown, and of broader assumptions about control of the citizenry on all fronts. In the transition to the new assumptions, we are approaching a tipping point, in which the authorities of the state (as in the average British constabulary’s Twitter feed) are ever more openly concerned to clamp down on you noticing what’s happening rather than on what is actually happening.

And isn’t it just funny as all hell that, no matter the event, situation, or putative contretemps, Big Boss Man is always able to find a way of using it to keep on workin’ for the clampdown?



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Racist…knitting?!?

Wait, what?

Knitting circles are replete with racism, according to a 2,000-word essay published Monday. And it wasn’t even in the Onion.

The Vox commentary article, titled “The knitting community is reckoning with racism,” claims “knitters of color” are often discriminated against by fellow knitters. Such instances of hatred are seen all over the internet, according to Vox, but is especially cancerous on sites such as Instagram, Etsy, and even on the knitters’ personal blogs.

What mountain of evidence does the author use to show the prevalence of racism in knitting circles, you might ask? Absolutely none. This essay follows up on a recent invasion of the online knitting space by social justice types, or maybe just trolls, who began bullying people for having basically just normal conversations about life. The phenomenon received some attention last month in Quillette, where the issue of racism among knitters was referred to as a “witch-hunt.”

The title of this jawdropping piece asks: “Can social justice warriors ruin knitting?” Of COURSE they can. These are some profoundly, irreparably miserable people we’re talking about here, intent on spreading their own misery as far and wide as possible. Trust me: there is NO aspect of life, however obscure, trivial, or innocuous, that they won’t invade, corrupt, disfigure, and demolish. Via Ace, who provides a broader analysis explaining why insane horseshit like this actually does matter. Myself, I’m still too gobsmacked by it too bother.

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HORRORS!

The truth hurts.

The West Virginian GOP displayed a poster in the state Capitol implying that Democratic Minnesota Rep. Ilhan Omar was a terrorist Friday.

The poster shows the World Trade Center in flames on 9/11 with the caption “‘NEVER FORGET’ — YOU SAID…” with a photo of Omar underneath it. The second half of the caption reads, “I AM THE PROOF – YOU HAVE FORGOTTEN.”

Actually, I don’t think the post “implies” that Omar is a terrorist per se; that kinda misses the actual point. Rather, it flatly states that she’s a radical, jihad-supporting, Jew-hating, anti-American Muslim. Which, y’know, is true. The assertion that she “is the proof…you have forgotten”—which is also true—is upheld by the very fact that, for some unfathomable reason, this nation saw fit to blindly import unvetted Muslim hordes from places like Somalia, Syria, and elsewhere even after having suffered the 9/11 atrocities—naked acts of war perpetrated in the name of Islam, by Muslims, for the greater glory of Allah.

The very fact that a hijab-wearing terrorist sympathizer from Somalia*, of all fucking places, is now treating all and sundry to hate-filled, Islam-inspired harangues from a pulpit in the very seat of American government—having been elected out of an overwhelmingly Muslim-majority enclave in, of all places, Minnefuckingsota, then sworn in on the biggest Koran Nancy Pelosi could find as the cherry on top of the obnoxious-triumphalism sundae—is simply grotesque. Also note this:

Democrat Ilhan Omar made history as she become one of the first two Muslim women to enter Congress – and did so with her head covered.

The 37-year-old who came to the U.S. as a refugee from Somali represents the fifth district of Minnesota, which includes all of Minneapolis and some of its suburbs.

Democrats were to formally end the ban on religious head coverings on the House floor on Thursday afternoon as part of a package of rules to govern the House. That package changes the ban on head coverings to exclude ‘non-religious headdress.’

Naturally, baseball caps, fedoras, cowboy hats, and other such common, all-American headgear remain strictly verboten. I repeat: all of this—ALL of this—after having suffered the 9/11 atrocities.

“Forgotten”? Oh, I’d say that’s putting the thing WAY too damned mildly, if you ask me. Makes the occasional Proggy wailing about the disgraceful, uniquely American scourge of “Islamophobia” seem head-twistingly Kafkaesque, don’t it?

*9/11 isn’t the only thing we’ve forgotten; Somalia, remember, was where the Black Hawk Down disaster took place—another hideous atrocity, one which to this day has never been avenged, and won’t ever be. So anybody wanna maybe try explaining to me why it is we ever saw fit to bring even ONE of the filthy, murdering savages here, thereby “fundamentally transforming” a goodly chunk of Minneapolis into Little Mogadishu?

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Beset on every side

Disappointed in Trump? Think he hasn’t got anything like a satisfactory amount done on his proposed agenda? Could be there’s a reason for that.

Angel moms (an organization of mothers of Americans killed by illegal aliens—M) came to DC early in the week, trying to schedule meetings with Trump, Schumer, and Pelosi. Schumer’s office granted them a meeting, Pelosi’s office called the police on them, but Trump’s WH respectfully said they couldn’t take a meeting.

According to two sources, the order was coming right from Mulvaney to stop a meeting w/ the angel moms. The WH has ways of stopping info from coming to Trump, many members of the WH team who are hostile to the MAGA movement keep information from ever reaching POTUS’ desk.

With Trump in the dark, Angel Families and their organizers brainstormed how to get POTUS’ attention. They floated multiple ideas but time was running out with a majority of them having return flights on home scheduled on Thursday.

They decided upon a press conference outside the WH where they would denounce the border bill. The WH caught wind of this and panicked, it would be horrible optics especially given that they had worked so hard trying to stop criticism from conservative media outlets.

Mercedes Schlapp called one of the organizers, asking that they turn around and stated that Trump was fighting for them w/ this bill. The organizer refused to give saying that $1.375 billion wasn’t enough for all these dead Americans.

With Mercedes unsuccessful, Kellyanne Conway called saying and also argued that they shouldn’t do this to Trump. The fight got heated, words were exchanged, but in the end the Angel Families refused to give up their press conference in front of the White House.

Kellyanne was visibly upset after the conversation, Trump walked in the room and noticed something was wrong. After a week of keeping him in the dark someone relented and told him about the Angel Families.

As the Angel Families rolled near the White House, Trump called the organizer and stated he wanted to meet with them, that he had no idea, and invited them for a meeting at 9:15 AM on Friday.

Most of the Angel Families had left by that point but a few were there. But those that were there were happy to meet Trump. It was Trump’s idea to bring them in the rose garden.

If you want to be mad at Trump, be mad at him for not cleaning the vipers out of his nest on Day One.

Achilles Heel update! Why Trump is losing.

How did we get here? Trump took office as a controversial and unorthodox “change” candidate. He reflected the frustrations and inchoate nationalist views of many Americans, whose concerns have been ignored by both parties for many years. In addition to consolidating the large cohort of ordinary Republicans radicalized by the presidency of Barack Obama, he brought in many disillusioned and alienated blue-collars voters, whose jobs and communities had been stressed by outsourcing, immigration, and a more general malaise. From the beginning, he faced an uphill struggle to implement an ambitious agenda.

Trump made his first unforced error in the earliest days of his administration. Personnel is policy, and his nominees for various cabinet and senior positions often did not share his vision, may have voted for his opponent, and otherwise were creatures of the very swamp he set out to drain.

James Mattis, Kirstjen Nielsen, and Nikki Haley, while all impressive people, do not come from the dissident wing of the Republican Party. In some cases, they have openly expressed opposition to Trump’s policies. John Bolton, while apparently a born-again Trump supporter, was the face of neoconservative interventionism during George W. Bush years, which gave us the failed regime-change wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. While the use of traditional Republican appointees may have been unavoidable, at least in part, the Trump Administration seemed to make little effort to ensure fidelity between the expressed goals of his campaign and his appointment of top officials.

In addition to these top cabinet picks, his daughter Ivanka and her mediocre husband, Jared Kushner, have been behind useless policy measures such as criminal justice reform and knee-jerk decisions like the 2017 Syria airstrikes. These two standard-issue New York liberals do not have the talent or the views to justify their portfolio, and their undue influence continues to be apparent in Trump’s occasional leftward lurches in rhetoric and policy.

Finally, in the transition, Trump set up a website—www.greatagain.gov—seeking talent from across this great country among his supporters. As far as we know, this database was destroyed, and any serious attempt to recreate it has never been undertaken. I know many talented people whose résumés went into this black hole. Government should again become the province of talented individuals from the private sector and the nation’s interior, and not a revolving door of Washington insiders bouncing back-and-forth between government and lobbying positions, as it has been for decades. You cannot drain the swamp by elevating people attached to its perquisites and devoted to its pieties.

Absolutely, positively correct. Which makes Trump’s “unforced error” here all the more baffling. The bottom line, though, is now this:

It is not clear if Trump can make any significant progress with his agenda in light of recent events. Nevertheless, Trump has accomplished something useful. He has revealed Americans’ deep resentment of our elites and their policies, but also exposed the deep contempt those elites have for the American people. He has shown a way forward for a revamped political party focused on the rights of legacy America, the interests of its workers and families, and a commitment to the integrity of the nation.

Most important, “Make America Great Again” has legitimized our history and our right to exist. If Trump cannot take the baton across the finish line and build a wall, some other enterprising statesman should realize this approach remains fertile ground to accomplish something that is significant and historical…and absolutely necessary.

I don’t really see things going that way myself. I find myself thinking more along the lines of Trump unwittingly having set the table and established the battle lines for an imminent struggle far broader and more destructive in scope than anybody imagines. Basically, despite good intentions, many useful and relevant talents, and the temperament required, Trump has found himself undone because he hoped to save and restore a nation that is fundamentally beyond salvage. Indeed, it barely remains a nation at all except by the most basic definition of the word. It doesn’t even WANT to be saved, and probably shouldn’t be.

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Unity!

Funny how effectively and speedily the PTB mob can bestir themselves to take decisive action when it’s something they all agree on.

Silicon Valley’s business elites and donor-class billionaires are uniting with elected Republicans and Democrats to ensure that white-collar, middle-class American jobs are swiftly outsourced to mostly Indian and Chinese nationals.

A plan known as the Fairness for High-Skilled Immigrants Act, introduced in the Senate by Sens. Mike Lee (R-UT) and Kamala Harris (D-CA), as well as Reps. Zoe Lofgren (D-CA) and Ken Buck (R-CO), would eliminate the U.S. country caps in the legal immigration system and would fast-track outsourcing of white-collar American jobs to mostly Indian and Chinese nationals imported to the country by businesses, outsourcing firms, and multinational corporations.

The country caps were originally implemented to prevent any one country from monopolizing the legal immigration system. Eliminating the country caps would immediately fast-track up to 300,000 green cards, and eventually American citizenship, to primarily Indian nationals in the U.S. on the H-1B visa, so long as they agree to take high-paying, white-collar jobs from Americans.

In the process, not only would other foreign workers be crowded out from receiving employment-based green cards, but the elimination of the country caps would fast-track the outsourcing of high-paying American jobs that would otherwise go to U.S. graduates.

See? THIS is what true bipartisan cooperation looks like, folks. Now if they could only work together like that for something that DOESN’T harm ordinary Americans.

Yeah, I know, I’m just being ridiculous there.

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Double bubble trouble

YIKES! With (urk) pictures.

DESPERATE for a fuller bust Jacqueline Harvey spent her life savings on a boob job.

But the 23-year-old was left distraught after the “botched” op left her with malformed, “double bubble” boobs.

The graphic designer saved for five years, before splashing out £4,500 on the op – boosting her bust from a 34C to DD.

However, after waking up and looking in the mirror, Jacqueline immediately regretted her decision.

She realised her implants had caused a second bulge under her breast bone – creating what looks like four “bubble” boobs.

The average cost of breast augmentation in Australia is $13,000 [£7,000], so Jacqueline was thrilled to find a discounted price of $6,000 (£4,500).

But she now regrets choosing the knock-down rate as she will have to spend the same amount on corrective surgery.

She added: “It was a lot more affordable than what I had previously been quoted for breast augmentations, which range around $13,000.

There’s a reason for that. There usually is.

“But I regret my decision as I now need to spend this amount to correct the damage that was done in the first operation.”

Rule Numero Uno, kid: never, ever, EVER bargain-shop for tattoos, tools, shoes, surgery, helicopter pilots, or high explosives. It’ll end up costing more than if you just bite the bullet and drop the coin to get the good stuff right out of the gate. WAY more, and in more than just money, too.

I just don’t get the store-bought-titties thing, I never did, and I never will. For whatever it might be worth, I find synthetic fun-bags repellent—notwithstanding my having more than one or two female friends to whom I will never willingly disclose that opinion, in the interests of my own physical well-being. Not knocking anybody for their preference in knockers, mind, whatever it may be and however they may have arrived at it. To each his/her own, I say.

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