Cold Fury

Harshing your mellow since 9/01

Rule One

SJWs must be excluded, shunned, and generally avoided like the plague they truly are.

John Schnatter—the founder and public face of pizza chain Papa John’s—used the N-word on a conference call in May. Schnatter confirmed the incident in an emailed statement to Forbes on Wednesday. He resigned as chairman of Papa John’s on Wednesday evening.

The call was arranged between Papa John’s executives and marketing agency Laundry Service. It was designed as a role-playing exercise for Schnatter in an effort to prevent future public-relations snafus. Schnatter caused an uproar in November 2017 when he waded into the debate over national anthem protests in the NFL and partly blamed the league for slowing sales at Papa John’s. 

On the May call, Schnatter was asked how he would distance himself from racist groups online. He responded by downplaying the significance of his NFL statement. “Colonel Sanders called blacks n—–s,” Schnatter said, before complaining that Sanders never faced public backlash.

Schnatter also reflected on his early life in Indiana, where, he said, people used to drag African-Americans from trucks until they died. He apparently intended for the remarks to convey his antipathy to racism, but multiple individuals on the call found them to be offensive, a source familiar with the matter said. After learning about the incident, Laundry Service owner Casey Wasserman moved to terminate the company’s contract with Papa John’s.

In an emailed statement on Wednesday afternoon, Schnatter confirmed the allegations. “News reports attributing the use of inappropriate and hurtful language to me during a media training session regarding race are true,” he said. “Regardless of the context, I apologize. Simply stated, racism has no place in our society.”

Ace draws the correct lesson from this teachable moment.

Even though he was not using the word from his own lips, but rather saying what Colonel Sanders had done (without pushback), a Social Justice Warrior got offended and leaked a recording of the conversation, and now he’s out as chairman of his own company.

Never, never hire a Social Justice Warrior. They are hate machines who will destroy any venture because they get off on that. They’re never in the business of whatever business is stupid enough to pay them to “work;” they’re only in the business of hyperpoliticization, sowing division, and destroying the work of others.

Don’t hire them; if you own a business and have employed them by mistake or in ignorance of what they are, use any reasonable (meaning not legally-actionable) pretense you can come up with to remove them. Don’t mix with them in even the most casual social settings; if an SJW snowflake is present at any gathering you might happen to be attending, no matter how innocuous or apolitical its nature, leave immediately and, if possible, inform your hosts of the reason why in no uncertain terms. Any possible association with them by sane, sensible people is an invitation to disaster; unpleasant as they are, it’s not worth the risk.

Social Justice Warriors are the terminal symptoms of an always-fatal disease. Like a tumor, they’ll have to be surgically removed to the last, tiniest trace if Western culture is to survive.

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The Old Grey Whore

How “journalism” is done: on their backs, legs spread wide.

Just when you thought contemporary journalism couldn’t sink any lower, along comes Ali Watkins, now 26, a reporter for the New York Times whose rapid rise through reporting’s corrupt and partisan ranks includes stints at the Huffington Post, BuzzFeed, and Politico. Back in February, Ms. Watkins suddenly became the object of official attention when the feds seized her email and phone records as part of an investigation into a prominent Senate staffer, James Wolfe — the former security director for the Senate Intelligence Committee and a Democrat, of course. Then, in June, Wolfe was arrested and charged with lying to the FBI, which was investigating leaks from the committee to select reporters…among whom was Ali Watkins.

It turns out that Watkins had been involved in a sexual relationship with Wolfe for three years, although at the time of Wolfe’s arrest she had moved on to greener pastures, including other staffers on the committee…

A responsible journalistic organization would never have hired this little scamp, but at the Times, which is hell-bent on turning its formerly white male newsroom into a model of “diversity,” being female trumped all other considerations, and the newspaper is clearly grooming Watkins for bigger things. But now that the truth is out about how this particular reporter got her scoops, a responsible journalistic organization would have fired her.

The Times, alas, is not that journalistic organization.

“Scamp”? That’s putting it WAY too mildly. Anybody who still kids himself that people like this can be treated with honorably and honestly needs to think very carefully about how completely the little whore was willing to degrade herself to advance the shitlib agenda. For instance:

The indictment said Wolfe, 58, began dating Watkins — who is in her 20’s — in 2013 when she was an undergraduate student working as a news intern. The indictment said the pair ended the relationship in December 2017.

In an April 2013 tweet, Watkins also tweeted about the fictional Netflix television show “House of Cards,” where a young reporter has an affair with an older member of Congress.

“I wanted to be Zoe Barnes…until episode 4,” she tweeted. “Sleeping with your source- especially a vindictive congressman? #badlifechoice #HouseofCards”

In another tweet, Watkins asked: “So on a scale of 1 to ethical, how does everyone feel about pulling a @RealZoeBarnes for story ideas? #TOTALLYKIDDING @HouseofCards.”

The “House of Cards” tweets were posted months before prosecutors said her relationship with Wolfe began.

So after smirking about it being a “#badlifechoice,” our roundheels decided with full awareness to prostitute herself with a guy old enough to be her grandfather in order to get Trump.

She’s not just a whore, she’s a stupid whore. Better get out of the world’s oldest profession now, honey, before you get hurt. Any streetwalker stupid enough to let the NYT pimp her out just ain’t cut out for The Life.

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All too happy to oblige

Gonna need some brain bleach over here, stat!

Thursday’s The View started off with an astounding nearly 10-minute-long meltdown over Justice Kennedy’s retirement from the Supreme Court, and the second chance for President Trump to appoint a judge for the highest court of the land, during his first two years in office. Liberal Whoopi Goldberg and Joy Behar were the most upset about the news with Whoopi angrily attacking host Meghan McCain, Republicans and Christians for potentially challenging Roe v Wade.

It was then Whoopi’s turn to rage that abortion rights we’re going to be “taken away” from Republicans who “don’t care” about women’s rights:

I don’t like hearing, again, that I’m trying to take your rights away. I have to tell you, as a woman, I think you’re trying to take my rights away. Okay? You don’t care.

Well, you got that bit right, at least.

And as a person, who believes in the constitution which tells me that I have the right to be myself and do the things I want to do,

Pretty sure that bit ain’t in there, actually. But then, the constitution you claim to “love” and “believe in” bears no resemblance to the one the Founders established anyway. You shitlibs have practically made a full-time career out of finding things in there that ain’t, while denying or ignoring the things that are.

and I don’t have to listen to what your religion is, and I don’t have to listen to what you want it to be I have to make sure that as an American citizen, I’m doing the right stuff and taking care of business.

I don’t like this line that I, as a Democrat, or an independent or whatever is trying to take away anything from you.

Except my liberty, my right to self-determination, my 2A rights, my freedom of speech, my right to be left alone, my right to hold conservative views free from harassment and assault and to have them respected, my right to elect a president of my own choosing without having the election overturned, my right to dissent from Left orthodoxy without enduring your scorn and derision, and one hell of a lot of others—yeah, you don’t want to take away a damned thing, do ya?

I’m trying to hold onto my personal rights so that you can have the rights you want. See? Because if you take mine, I feel like you’re the one with the problem. If you take my right away from me, to judge what I do for my family and my body

“Family”? WHAT family? You killed it a-borning in an abortion mill.

I got a little problem with that. You got a problem. You don’t want people to take your guns?

Slight but crucial distinction here: it’s not so much that we “don’t want” you to take our guns; we AREN’T GOING TO ALLOW liberal fascists like you to take our guns. There’s a difference, see. Another difference: my right to own guns is actually, y’know, quite specifically and clearly enshrined in the Constitution, supported by every single damned word every one of the Founders ever uttered on the topic both before and after it was written. Your “right” to heartlessly murder innocent unborn children because you consider them an inconvenience…umm, well, isn’t.

Get out of my behind! Get out of my vagina! Get out!

And there it is. Whoopi, I absolutely, categorically assure you that there ain’t enough money and/or booze on this planet to induce me to be anywhere near your vagina at any time, for even a moment. Full stop, end of story.

An aside: please understand something here, folks. Speaking strictly for myself, I do NOT support a blanket ban on abortion, everywhere and in all circumstances, and I doubt I ever will. I have no idea how many of us out there DO, honestly. There are instances—regrettable, tragic ones to be sure—where abortion is necessary, the lesser of two evils. Threat to the life of the mother would be one; it happened to some close friends of mine, in fact, and was an awful, shattering thing for all involved. I myself would say that cases of rape or incest might be another; I just can’t see forcing someone to bear a child produced by such severe trauma and violation against her wishes, myself. But YMMV, and probably does.

What most of us are arguing for, and have been from the start, is the return of such decisions to their proper Constitutional realm: the states. The above-mentioned are deep, highly personal matters, of great consequence to those involved, and as such are best handled by those closest to the situation and immediately affected by it. Which is, y’know, the exact reason the Constitution says what it says, and does what it does. The Founders knew all this, and agreed with it, and did their level best to restrict the ability of an overlarge, meddlesome federal government to botch things up with one-size-fits-all edicts from Mordor On The Potomac, just as they in their prescient wisdom knew it would.

This is why Roe V Wade was such a self-evident, ass-backwards screwup. By manufacturing a nonexistent “right” to unfettered, limitless abortion-on-demand, Roe stood the Constitution on its head, magicking the foundational principles behind it into their exact opposite. The incredible irony here is that with their insistence on a phony “living Constitution,” liberals provided for the eventual destruction of its flimsy, written-in-quicksand “guarantees” and denied themselves the protection, fragile though it may sometimes be, provided by the real one. Their ignorant, underhanded dismissal of a literal interpretation of the Constitution weakened it, just as they intended. Their establishment of a grotesque federal Superstate in its stead made all of us vulnerable to tyranny in direct consequence.

UNEXPECTED!™

None of which—the Constitution, states’ rights, limited government, respect for the rights of the individual—is what Whoopsie and her ilk are arguing for, which is why they have to lie about our position on abortion and other issues the way they do. In the case at hand specifically, what they really demand is abortion as a means of post-facto contraception—often enough, to be paid for by the tax dollars of people who find abortion morally repugnant, which is itself yet another kettle of stinky, rotting fish. On the larger issues, they’d have been a lot better off to insist not on a boundless federal government empowered to rule at its own whim, but on the greater responsiveness, flexibility, and accountability of the one the Founders set up. It’s kind of remarkable they can’t see it, when you think about it.

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Make it stop!

Why is it always the homeliest and dumpiest among ’em who just can’t refrain from getting themselves all nekkid in public, and will find any excuse at all to sound high-minded about indulging their exhibitionist kink?

Well, okay, I guess for a middle-aged Feminazi college professor, she ain’t all THAT bad, really. Considering the beached-whale gravy boats stripping off at Lefty protest-cum-riots from sea to shining sea in our own nation, we’ve all surely beheld worse. But still: nope, ain’t no unseeing that.

I have to believe that someday, a reasonably cute Lefty chick willing to let ’em breathe in broad daylight will surface, thus negating the endless parade of blubberous, screeching, pink-mohawked tuna schooners and making our long national nightmare worth all the suffering that led up to her welcome emergence. I hereby pledge to do my little all in securing her internet-sensationhood, should that frabjous day arrive while I’m still young enough to give a damn.

Thanks for nuthin’ to Heartiste, who quips: “Forget it, Jake, it’s Vaginatown.

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Big backfire coming

Bake me a fucking cake, retards.

A restaurant in Virginia booted the White House press secretary from the premises. The co-owner did so due to her standards, and much coercion from her staff.

This, in my opinion, is completely up to the discretion of the restaurant. No restaurant, or any business, should be forced to serve those they don’t want in their establishment. In a perfect world, the incident would be over, and the restaurant could continue feeding its clients. Unfortunately, that won’t happen.

So. You should be just fine with restaurants refusing service to blacks, Hispanics, GLBTVRYUILLXQ39SPACEMODULATORs or whomever else they may arbritrarily choose, right?

Ahh, but of course not. One can only conclude that the New Standard is that it’s now fine to refuse service based on ideological and/or political affiliation, then. Our good bud Aesop ain’t on board with all that:

Sorry, but HELL NO.

“In a perfect world”, the owner and her halfwit staff realize that absent any actions of personal misbehavior on the premises whilst dining, they treat Sarah Sanders exactly like every other customer who enters their public establishment. Because they know if they fail to adhere to that minimum standard of civility (from whose meaning-rich root, civitas, springs also the word “civilization”), the Banshees Of Comeuppance will descend on their establishment, and drive their establishment out of business, for cause, and remove their jackassical DNA from the economic gene pool, exactly the “invisible hand” predicted in 1776 by Adam Smith, the explicatory father of capitalism and its functioning.

So, for the exact same reason we have public health codes, if you’re in business to serve food to customers, you serve food to customers. Period. Paragraph. End of effing book.

This was not the Democrat Harpy Pub. It was not the Politically Correct Lounge.

Well, I dunno. Seems like, as a practical matter at least, maybe it WAS.

Stand by for a bunch of preening nonsense from the Hapless Right about how shitlibs, thanks to the self-evident hypocrisy now fully exposed by their “right to refuse service” Brand New Principle, “can no longer” force Christian bakers or anyone else to act in ways contrary to their own beliefs. Au contraire, chum; they most certainly can, and they most certainly will. You can rest entirely assured that, should a Republican-run eatery refuse service to Democrats based on party affiliation according to Brand New Principle, its proprietors and premises will be protested against, condemned, threatened, vandalized, boycotted, and harrassed because of their unacceptably unacceptable “bigotry.” Righties will sputter and fume about the obvious unfairness of this.

They will be ignored.

Lefty’s newfound reverence for the right to freedom of association is just like every other one of their supposed “principles”: conditional, compliance with which will be demanded only when it suits their purposes to do so. They themselves will continue to go right ahead and do whatever they damned well please, thanksverymuch, and just never you mind what they “can no longer” do. The only way fairness will ever enter the picture is if it’s forced on them—in other words, only if and when ignoring it does them immediate and tangible harm.

Which, in turn, brings us right back to the absolute and unavoidable necessity of inflicting serious pain on Leftards for their myriad abuses. Sniffing about all the things they “can no longer do” is horseshit on stilts, akin to complaining about liberal bias in Jurassic Media. Anybody expecting such complaints—even when backed up by ironclad examples—to inspire them to correct it, refrain from it in future, or otherwise inhibit them one iota, is headed for a lifetime of disappointment.

Bottom line:

Business owners absolutely have the right to eject anyone from their premises. But in no world, perfect or otherwise, save for one best described by Dante in Inferno, do they have any right to remain ignorantly and blissfully free of consequences for their actions, whether wise or blisteringly stupid.

Bingo, and a most important point. Progtards have gotten away with their shit, consequence-free, for way too long. They’ve now gotten it thoroughly up their noses, as Wodehouse used to say. Appeals to some phantom sense of “fair play” or “integrity” are worse than a waste of time; those consequences Aesop mentions aren’t going to just miraculously be visited on Lefty all on their own. To use an analogy that might be just a bit too apt given current conditions: if you stack wood and kindling in the fireplace, just waving an unlit match over the pile ain’t going to get anybody any warmer.

To yield the desired result, the match must first be struck.

They will not stop. They will NEVER stop. They will have to BE stopped. As unpalatable as the prospect may be to the House Of Cuck, it remains the simple truth.

Update! Aesop also provides a link to this:

As I’ve said about gay people who can’t get a baker or photographer to work for their wedding, why would you want to do business with them?

Go somewhere else.

There’s really no reason to waste your money patronizing an establishment that doesn’t like or approve of you.

The real kick in the pants is as much as the Left hates Chick-fil-A, they will serve anyone. Gay, Democrat, Hillary voter — everyone receives service with a smile.

The Red Hen of Lexington? Not so much.

But the Red Hen also did a huge favor for Sarah Sanders.

Let’s be frank. If her snowflake staff hadn’t called the owner, I’m guessing the odds are someone would have spit in her food.

True, dat. Dianny—who’s going to wind up another belated blogroll entry sure enough—also provides a pic of the Red Hen owners, and they look just exactly as you would expect them to…right down to their choice of, umm, hats.

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All you need to know about them

They shriek about Trump’s perfectly apt and highly popular “fake news” diatribes, then go ahead and prove him correct over and over again. I won’t bother excerpting; Ace covers quite a lot of ground succinctly and well, thanks. For my own part, I’ll just highlight this perfectly stunning bit of gall:

TIME defended its cover and its reporting Friday, essentially claiming the facts are irrelevant because of the propaganda value of the piece. The photo and story “capture the stakes of this moment,” the editor in chief told reporter Hadas Gold.

Bold mine. In other words: they’re lying, they know they’re lying, and they don’t care. They think it serves the overriding goal of damaging Trump, deceiving their audience, and shaming normal Americans into accepting open (ie, no) borders. For the Left, truth has always run a very distant second to the Agenda, and it always will.

Be sure to click on the Federalist link to see Time’s despicable cover, a full-strength example of propaganda their spiritual forebear and role model Joseph Goebbels could only envy and admire were he still around to see it.

No honor. No integrity. No principles. No ethics. Yeah, we can trust these people to debate fairly, in good faith, and with respect for dissenting points of view. All we need do is be “civil” with them and they’ll surely respond in kind. Right, cucks?

Update! More from Daniel:

Even amid the torrent of fake news propaganda about the migrant crisis (“see small children cowering in Trump’s cages”, “listen to the sound of the children Trump took away from their parents” and “This little girl is probably crying because of Trump”), an occasional act of journalism takes place. Just not by the mainstream media.

It’s been true for a long while now.

Journalism update! One of those rare and unexpected acts of journalism Daniel was talking about, from a steady, consistent, and reliable source: Heather MacDonald.

So it was a ruse. The hysteria over the separation of illegal-alien asylum-seekers from their children (or their purported children) was in large part pretextual. The real target of rage was the Trump administration’s policy of prosecuting all illegal border-crossers for the federal misdemeanor of illegal entry.

Heather does her usual solid investigative job, exposing the bigger Progressivist picture with unflinching clarity thusly:

This principle is at work in the ongoing attacks on the criminal-justice system as well: the overrepresentation of blacks in prison is attributed to allegedly racist actors and institutions, not to lawbreaking by the criminals. Non-legal forms of distress are also covered by the no-agency rule. If single mothers experience elevated rates of poverty, the fault lies with a heartless welfare system, not with their decision to conceive a child out-of-wedlock. The father, of course, is as good as nonexistent, in the eyes of the single-mother welfare lobby. If teen mothers are stressed out, the problem lies in the absence of daycare centers in high schools.

The “progressive” solution to these dilemmas is to confer an immediate benefit on the alleged victim that will alleviate the problem in the short term, perverse incentives be damned. Illegal aliens with children must be exempt from immigration rules. The likelihood that such a policy will encourage more illegal aliens to come is out of sight, out of mind (if not covertly viewed as an affirmative good). If having more out-of-wedlock children puts a strain on a single mother’s welfare check and food stamps, then the government should increase the allotment to reflect the additional births. If that single mother and her children show up at a shelter claiming homelessness, give them an apartment. If such free housing encourages more single mothers to flood the shelter system, contract for more apartments.

Read it all. MacDonald, as does Sharryl Atkisson, reminds us of the importance of REAL journalism with her work, providing a damning contrast with the insidiously dangerous hackery of the MFM’s liberal propagandists to boot. That contrast would shame them unbearably, were they capable of any such thing.

Hilarious update! A way better version of the Time cover.

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Rule Rot, Britannia

Beyond disgusting, beyond despicable.

You can say a lot of things about Tommy Robinson, but he’s one of the embarrassingly small number of Britons who recognizes the horror inflicted on those young and vulnerable girls on the receiving end of “diversity” and seeks to do something about it.

So on Friday he was outside the Crown Court in Leeds. He was not demonstrating, or accosting or chanting, or even speaking. He was just pointing his mobile phone upon the scene from a distance. Within minutes, seven coppers showed up in whatever they use instead of a Black Maria these days, tossed him inside it and drove off. In other words, these were not “investigating officers” called to the scene: They showed up with the intent to take him away. Within hours, he was tried, convicted and gaoled – at HM Prison Hull, a Category B chokey, or one level below maximum security. The judge in the case, one Geoffrey Marson, spent all of four minutes on trying, convicting and sentencing Robinson. It is not clear whether that leisurely tribunal included his order expressly forbidding “any report on these proceedings” (the case is Regina vs Yaxley-Lennon because that’s Robinson’s real name).

Which is why, all the way over in Sydney, Messrs Dean and Cameron were being so vague and cautious. In Britain itself, early online reports at The Mirror, the Scottish Daily RecordThe Birmingham Mail and elsewhere vanished instantly, and silence has been maintained, especially on radio and TV, ever since.

Every last one of those media outlets have disgraced themselves and destroyed whatever credibility they might once have had. Every damned one.

The justification for this is Robinson’s previous conviction in a previous Grooming Gang of the Week case at Canterbury Crown Court. On that occasion, the judge sentenced him to three months’ imprisonment suspended for eighteen months. That was almost exactly a year ago – so, suspension-wise, he came up six months short when the plods collared him on Friday. That doesn’t explain why Judge Marson in Leeds added an additional ten months (ie, he quadrupled his sentence) and disregarded a point that Judge Norton last year took into account – that the British state insists on banging up Robinson in gaols full of Muslim blokes who violently assault him. In Canterbury, Her Honor was sympathetic – up to a point:

I accept what Mr. Kovalevsky [Robinson’s barrister] tells me about the dangers that you might face were you to be sent into immediate custody. I have to say it is on a knife edge so far as I am concerned because a very large part of me thinks so what? you could be put into protective custody.

Given that Judge Marson devoted a full four minutes to his drive-thru trial on Friday, I seriously doubt whether 25 seconds of that was devoted to any consideration of “protective custody”. Indeed, it is not unreasonable to conclude that the British state would quite like it if Robinson were to be offed in HMP Hull.

Of course they would. He makes them uncomfortable by simply telling the inconvenient truth.

The British state sentenced Mr Robinson to eighteen months in jail for misrepresentation on a mortgage application. At HMP Woodhill he was savagely attacked by the Muslim gangs who operate with impunity in many UK prisons.

Soon enough, they’ll be operating with impunity throughout the entire country. And truthfully, I look forward to that day; it’s no more than the filthy, gutless bastards deserve.

Rod Liddle notes another aspect – the contrast between the urgency of the flatfeet when it comes to Tommy Robinson and their utter lethargic indifference when it comes to the young women I spoke to in Rotherham and the thousands of others like them in Leeds, Telford, Oxford, [Your Town Here]… West Yorkshire Police in Leeds are not to be confused with South Yorkshire Police in Rotherham. The latter are institutionally corrupt and depraved. As I told Mark Steyn Club members last year of my meeting with the victims of Rotherham:

To Mad Ash and his fellow ‘Asians’, the likes of Jessica and Katie are ‘white slags’. To Her Majesty’s Constabulary, they’re mere ‘Paki-shaggers’, and thus unworthy of valuable police resources. The girls recall the night Mad Ash’s brother Bannaras was in his car having sex with a twelve-year-old. A ‘jam sandwich’ – a police cruiser – pulled up alongside, and the officer rolled down the window. ‘She’s just sucking my c**k, mate,’ said Bannaras Hussain.

The cops drove away…

It is striking to read Judge Norton’s sentencing remarks from last year (Judge Marson’s do not appear to be available: he rules in darkness). Her Honor huffs and puffs about Mr Robinson referring to “Muslim paedophiles” and “Muslim child rapists”. I can appreciate that that might be vaguely annoying if one were a non-paedophile Muslim – although evidently not so annoying that spokespersons for the wider Muslim community ever rouse themselves to object to all the industrial-scale sex slavery. But it is a fact that in 21st-century England – in Yorkshire, in Shropshire, in Lancashire, in Oxfordshire, in the Home Counties – child-rape gangs are Muslim. It is a phenomenon, one that has never existed previously in the British Isles and one which will continue and metastasize until there is honest debate about it.

Which will come far too late to save them. It’s a hell of a bed they’ve made for themselves in Old Blighty; may they have much joy of the lying in it.

Robinson is a true hero, one of the last of a now-dead line of staunch, proud, gutsy Brits. His countrymen, far too many of them at any rate, are disgusting cowards, not worth the unzipping to piss over. Too bad for them; they’re sure to find themselves on fire soon enough.

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Calling it by its name

The Permanent Bipartisan Fusion Party.

As it happens, the leaders of the PBFP sat for a group portrait the other day. The occasion was the funeral of former First Lady Barbara Bush, wife of George Herbert Walker “Poppy” Bush and mother of George Walker Bush, American presidents 41 and 43, respectively. Also in the photograph was the man who beat Poppy, William Jefferson Blythe III, more commonly known as Bill Clinton; and Barack Hussein Obama II, also known as Barry Soetoro, the man who succeeded George W. Bush. And their wives, of course, including Hillary Rodham Clinton, former senator from New York, former secretary of state in the Obama Administration, and the defeated candidate in the 2016 presidential election.

But the man who defeated Hillary—Donald J. Trump, the 45th president of the United States—was nowhere to be seen. The Bush family, which bears him no love after his demolition of heir-apparent Jeb in the 2016 Republican primaries, had made it clear that Trump would not be welcome in Houston. And so the Trump family was represented by First Lady Melania, while the president stayed behind in Washington under the fig leaf of protocol (presidents don’t normally attend first ladies’ funerals) and not wishing to “disrupt” the event.

The picture is less evocative of a group portrait of past presidents as it is of a family, in this case the Kennedys, with Poppy sitting in for old Joe, the crippled paterfamilias, surrounded by the offspring who went on to wreak so much havoc upon the American body politic. For, like some Biblical genealogy, Bush I begat Clinton who begat Bush II, who would have begotten Clinton II were in not for Obama, who might have begotten either Clinton II redux or Bush III (Jeb!) were it not for Trump.

If it all sounds rather incestuous, that’s because it is.

No wonder Trump was not invited. The racket was proceeding quite nicely until he came along.

That they hate him ought to be reason enough all by itself for any true, red-blooded American to get behind him.

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Disgusting, in so many ways

Saw this on the local teewee news earlier, and…well, see for yourself.

RALEIGH, N.C. (WNCN) – The dress code at Kickback Jack’s has some customers a little upset.

“The sign is bogus,” said customer Zaena Graham. “I think it’s a bunch of…rubbish.”

The sign is hanging in the window of HIS FUCKING RESTAURANT, to establish the rules for acceptable dress and conduct that HE FUCKING PREFERS in HIS FUCKING RESTAURANT. You don’t like it, you are perfectly free to go eat somewhere else, you whiny dipshit. Know what really is “bogus”? The fact that you think you have some innate “right” to take issue with this man’s rules IN ANY FASHION WHATSOEVER—and to have attention paid to your whining by sensible people as if said whining was worth the simple chronic halitosis used to expel it, or was deserving of any response other than to chuck you out bodily into oncoming traffic.

The sign posted inside its restaurant lists the dress code and behavior requirements. The list starts off prohibiting negative attitudes, offensive language, and any attire containing profanity.

“In a family atmosphere other than just a sports bar, I think profanity should be restricted in any public place,” said John Baucom, a customer.

“The first part sounded OK, but it just got, to me, more discriminatory,” said Laurie Washington, who was eating at the restaurant with her husband, Thomas Washington.

The dress code goes on to say no low-hanging pants or shorts, no plain white T-shirts, and no excessively baggy attire.

Laurie and Thomas Washington believe it has a racial undertone and is offensive to them.

“That’s typically, younger African-American type attire,” said Laurie Washington.

So, if I don’t want to look at the crack of some thug-life teenage twerp’s ass while I eat—white OR black—or have the disgusting sight of his underwear exposed by having his pants down around his knees inflicted on me during dinner out, that’s RACIST!™ now, is it?

Well, allow me to share my specific thoughts on all that: FUCK YOU, IDIOT BITCH. You, and everybody else who “thinks” like you. Word to the clueless: it’s called UNDERwear for a fucking REASON. And just because you and yours think you have a “right” to do anything you damned well please, up to and including being patently offensive to civilized people possessed of a sense of decency and decorum you so clearly lack, does NOT mean that you actually and in fact do. You do NOT.

If feeling that way about this spurious complaint makes me a racist, then fine, I’m a motherfucking racist then. What else you got?

Baucom said not having the policy could be offensive to others.

You’re gott-damned right about that, buddy.

“The way they wear their pants and exposing certain parts of skin or whatever, I think that should be a manager’s discretion as far as offensive to other people,” he said.

And in a free country, it certainly would be. But when anti-smoking Nazis did away with the right of restaurant and bar owners to have a smoking and non-smoking section in their own joints if they so chose, this stopped being the case. So expect a lawsuit from these gibbering retards forthwith—and expect Kickback Jack’s to lose.

Myself, I’m considering walking around from now on with my pants around my knees too…commando-style, no underwear at all. Because I gots myself a RIGHT to walk around enjoying the free feeling of my junk swinging in the breeze, yo, and to hell with you if you don’t like it. Wonder what the reaction to that might be, eh?

O brave new world, that has such assholes in it. The great thing, though, is that the more idiots like this cry RACISM! over such self-evident tommyrot, the more they reduce the sting of the word, thereby undermining their own idiocy and removing one more arrow from their quiver.

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Once a traitor…

Leopards Liberals don’t change their spots.

Many people — including the president of the United States — want to know if Kerry’s actions constitute a violation of the Logan Act. It’s a question I’m frequently asked about Kennedy. The short answer, in both cases, is that I’m not the source to provide the answer. Congress is. The Democratic Congress in the 1980s didn’t hesitate to launch criminal proceedings against President Ronald Reagan and his staff (many of them fine men of great integrity) in a militant pursuit for impeachment over “Iran-Contra.” Liberal Democrats did so while turning a blind eye as their leader — House Speaker Jim Wright — buddied up to Sandinista dictator Daniel Ortega in his own negotiations.

And Wright wasn’t secretary of state, just as John Kerry wasn’t secretary of state when he conferred with Iranian officials in secret meetings in New York. In what the Boston Globe described as a “rare move” of “unusual shadow diplomacy,” Kerry met with the Iranian foreign minister (among other high-level foreign officials) “to discuss ways of preserving the pact limiting Iran’s nuclear weapons program. It was the second time in about two months that the two had met to strategize over salvaging a deal they spent years negotiating during the Obama administration, according to a person briefed on the meetings.”

That’s the very deal that President Trump was working to cancel just as Kerry was working to save it.

And that’s hardly the only Kerry outrage. No, this is old-hat. I’d like to remind all of Kerry’s affront decades ago. The date was April 22, 1971, 47 years to almost the exact day that Kerry met with the Iranians.

Follows, the complete story of the last time John Heinz-Kerry committed high treason against the United States of America. Of course, there’s a Soviet angle behind it. Heinz-Kerry ought to be damned grateful that treason is no longer an offense this country bothers much about anymore. If it was, he’d have surely swung for it a long time ago.

Then again, though, it might almost have been worth letting him slide on that whole betraying-his-country thing just to see his hilarious “reporting for duty” skit, featuring what would have to be one of the most feeble excuses for a “salute” ever perpetrated by a veteran in public, at DemSocCon 2004. I swear, it looked more like one of Benny Hill’s end-of-show gags than anything else.


Benny_Hill.jpg

Nothing whatsoever against Hill, of course. At least he was being funny on purpose.

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What if…

Wonder if VDH’s cuckster colleagues at NRO are reading his stuff? Because I can think of at least three right off the top of my head who ought to be forced—at gunpoint, if necessary—to read this one. Twice.

There are lots of possible counterfactuals to think about had Hillary Clinton won the presidency as all the experts had predicted.

The U.S. embassy would have stayed in Tel Aviv. “Strategic patience” would likely still govern the North Korea dilemma. Fracking would be curtailed. The — rather than “our” — miners really would be put out of work. Coal certainly would not have been “beautiful.” The economy probably would be slogging along at below 2 percent GDP growth.

China would be delighted, as would Iran. But most important, there would be no collusion narrative — neither one concerning a defeated Donald Trump nor another implicating a victorious Hillary Clinton. In triumph, progressives couldn’t have cared less whether Russians supposedly had tried to help a now irrelevant Trump; and they certainly would have prevented any investigation of the winning Clinton 2016 campaign.

In sum, Hillary’s supposedly sure victory, not fear of breaking the law, prompted most of the current 2016 scandals, and her embittering defeat means they are not being addressed as scandals.

For example, why would FBI director James Comey have been so foolish as to ask for a FISA warrant request without fully informing the judge of the compromising details of the Steele–Fusion GPS dossier? Or why would Attorney General Loretta Lynch have been so reckless as to meet with Bill Clinton in a stealthy jet rendezvous on an Arizona tarmac when her department was concurrently investigating his spouse?

But those are precisely the wrong questions, given the Washington careerist mind. The right one is “Why not?” — in the context of the overwhelming likelihood that Hillary Clinton would not only be elected president but also would follow the well-known Clintonian habit of punishing both enemies and neutrals while rewarding friends, the more obsequious, the better.

It goes on from there, a perfect reminder of the bullet we dodged by electing Trump and packing Her Herness off to bitter, booze-soaked irrelevance. Hanson’s conclusion:

The Podesta brothers would still be A-list Washington operators. During a Clinton administration, Devin Nunes, who would likely still be seeking the truth behind the illegality in the 2016 campaign, might have been under FISA-ordered surveillance himself, or would have shared the deep-state fate of the jailed videomaker Nakoula Basseley Nakoula, or might have become one of the victims of Lois Lerner’s residual henchmen at the IRS.

The coffers of the Clinton Foundation certainly would be expanding exponentially. Robert Mueller might have been brought back in now and then for his sober and judicious work in finding no wrongdoing in the Uranium One deal.

And Donald Trump? He would be mocked and ridiculed as he barked at the moon that his wires had been tapped in Trump Tower — as the truth became insanity, and insanity the truth.

You’ll surely want to read all of it, even though it means swallowing the bitter pill of clicking over to NRO to do so. As I said, certain prissy-Right types ought to be forced to.

(Via KT)

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The politics of everydamnedthing

Is there nothing the Killjoy Left’s relentless politicization of every facet of life can’t suck the juice out of?

Once PC culinary sages merely condemned what Americans ate as factory farm-driven, profit-mad and highly caloric. Twinkies and high-fructose corn syrup would kill us all, unless we gave up steaks and fries for low-fat, plant-based regimens.

But in the last year, the agenda’s lurched far, far leftward. Kit Kat bars are making people fat in South America, part of a “marketing juggernaut that is upending traditional diets from Brazil to Ghana to India,” The New York Times moaned on its front page as far back as Sept. 16.

At the new downtown Chick-fil-A, you’re buying into “creepy infiltration” of the chain’s “pervasive Christian traditionalism,” gay-hating views of its founders and the sinister undertones of cow portraits hanging on the walls, which “glorify God,” according to Dan Piepenbring in the April 13 issue of The New Yorker. (He doesn’t mention that Chick-fil-A’s NYC landlord is a Syrian-Jewish family who seemingly wasn’t offended when they leased the site to the Jesus freaks.)

The New Yorker has cornered the market on extreme “food politics.” A feature in a 2017 article about a South Carolina eatery founded by a deceased white supremacist wants us to know that barbecue “is America’s most political food,” when most of us thought it was merely the greasiest.

And the best, when properly done Eastern North Carolina style.

(Via MisHum)

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Why do once-great nations crumble and fall?

Because they deserve to.

Like the parents of Charlie Gard – another child similarly condemned to death by a preening NHS – Alfie’s parents disagreed with the hospital’s plans to abandon further treatment and remove life support from their son.  They began to investigate alternatives for care outside the NHS system, never suspecting that the state-run system would see their love for their child as a threat to the NHS and would respond with ferocity.

Alder Hey’s physicians have been unrelenting in their abandonment of this child, having decided more than a year ago, in February of 2017, that Alfie should quit embarrassing them by surviving in spite of receiving no treatment and get on with the business of the afterlife.

Since making that decision, the hospital has refused to perform even the most common of procedures for a patient with Alfie’s needs, such as a tracheostomy to facilitate easier breathing or a gastrostomy feeding tube for nutrition and medication.

For all this time, Alfie has been fed through a nasal tube, never intended as a permanent solution, but rather as a stopgap (weeks, not months) designed to be used until a g-tube can be placed.

The medical treatment Alfie has received is abominable, as a direct result of the hospital’s decision, and subsequent criminal obstinacy toward anyone suggesting that their prognosis might be in error.

To hear the barristers for Alder Hey wax poetic about the “first class care” given Alfie by the NHS (parroted by judge after judge in court proceedings) is indeed revolting – the British equivalent of Baghdad Bob. In truth, they have made no attempt to diagnose Alfie’s condition, preferring instead to place him on heavily sedating anti-seizure medications, then claiming that his lethargy is further evidence of his irreversible decline.

The world is witness to slow-motion murder. The perpetrators are the NHS, and the motive is not pecuniary, but rather a perverse form of institutional vanity.

Italy has conferred citizenship to Alfie, and there is a medical air ambulance standing by at the request of the pope to fly Alfie to the Vatican’s children’s hospital, Bambino Gesù, where Alfie can be treated.

But while socialism requires citizen confidence to operate, it will settle for coercion to gain compliance. This is why Alder Hey refuses to release Alfie. Should the boy survive outside NHS care, their “infallibility” would be shattered, and (gasp!) the sheep may begin to question their shepherd.

Collectivist schemes of medicine are no more sustainable (or just!) than collectivist schemes of societal order. Both require submission, even unto death.

The only “life unworthy of life” is that of the arrogant, self-congratulatory medical murderers of the NHS and their judicial enablers. May God’s judgment be realized in the fullest.

Amen to that. The decree refusing to allow the child to be flown to Italy for treatment at precisely no cost to anybody is what shifts this from typical bureaucratic heartlessness and obstinacy into the realm of purest evil. No caring person—no healer worthy of the designation—would ever countenance being party to such an atrocity.

But these are neither caring people nor healers. We’re talking here about monsters, abominations. To grant them an indulgence they in no way deserve by calling them “human” besmirches the word itself.

Yet instead of being righteously cast out of decent society as they should be—shunned to grub about its margins in wretched disgrace and deprivation—they’re running the damned place. Astoundingly, incomprehensibly, it gets even worse (see the attached threatening Tweet from the Merseyside Police for that). Perhaps worse still, the Facebook post linked in the Tweet is chock-full of nitwit statements of support for the NHS posted by Old Blighty’s bleating sheeple.

Maybe it would be better after all if little Alfie winds up succumbing to England’s inhuman savagery and indifference in the end and passes on to a better place. It might be better than living out his life in such a place, forced to acknowledge such contemptible curs as his countrymen.

May the perpetrators of this repulsive display of wanton cruelty burn in the hottest fires of Hell for all eternity.

And yeah, when the day comes that America’s government-(mis)run health-care system has attained this summit of degeneracy, I think everyone here will agree that it is DEFINITELY time to start shooting the bastards.

Update! The cold, hard truth:

If you don’t understand why the NHS and British courts refused, you don’t get socialized medicine. It is not, nor has it ever been, about health care. It’s about power. Once a government — any government — takes control of your health care, they own you and your children. Alfie’s parents and the British public had for months demanded Alfie’s release just to seek treatment by doctors competent enough to figure out what was wrong with him. But, for a socialized system, that’s dangerous. It implies that an individual Brit has rights not bestowed by the state.

In a social “democracy” like Great Britain, the state isn’t there for the purpose of serving the people — sick or otherwise. The people are there for the purposes of the state. If the state can hold your child hostage in a hospital whose doctors are too incompetent to arrive at a diagnosis — yet may terminate his life without your permission — neither you nor your child are “free” in any meaningful sense of the word. And this doesn’t stop at health care, of course. Remember Brexit? What happened when the voters of Great Britain made their wishes known regarding the European Union? The will of the British electorate was ignored.

Likewise, the wishes of Alfie’s parents never meant anything. Nor did the overwhelming public support they received. It is the “interests” of the state that matter in Perfidious Albion, and they have little or nothing to do with those of the “free people” who populate that benighted isle. There is only one way that Alfie is ever going to escape the clutches of the state apparatus they call, with no intentional irony, the National Health Service. The NHS and Alder Hey Children’s Hospital was always going to have the final word on Alfie’s fate. 

The most chilling thing about all this has little to do with Britain or its inhabitants; the people of Europe have for centuries been perfectly willing to subject themselves to despotism, oppression, and abuse by tyrants—nor have they ever suffered a shortage of would-be dictators willing to step up and take the job. It’s that here in America, a substantial percentage of our own population demands that we walk down this exact same ruinous road ourselves.

Which in turn is why, in my more pessimistic moments, I’m convinced that either a conflagration or a breakup is inevitable. How can people who cherish liberty and self-determination peacefully coexist for long with grasping, megalomaniacal fools and still call themselves free?

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Worm on a hot griddle

Comey just keeps right on slithering.

REMNICK: Do you think we’d be a lot better off with Hillary Clinton as president than Donald Trump?

COMEY: Certainly given her commitment to our traditions and our norms and our values and the rule of law, yes.

Daniel asks some penetrating questions regarding the above:

No one quite embodies the rule of law like a Clinton.

How does Comey know Hillary’s commitments to our traditions? And which traditions are those? Compulsive lying, compulsive thieving and compulsive paranoia?

Does Comey mean America traditions, norms and values? Or lefty ones.

Oh, the answer to that is certainly clear enough, I think.

But wait, it gets even better. The miserable Comey was asked the same question by Jake Tapper, as it turns out, producing a very different response:

TAPPER: Do you think the nation would be better off if Hillary Clinton had won?

COMEY: I can’t answer that. That’s something- that hypothetical is too hard for me to go back in time to try and answer-

TAPPER: You paint a pretty dire picture of President Trump. It’s hard to imagine how you don’t think the nation is better off if Hillary Clinton had won.

COMEY: I don’t think about it in those terms though, Jake.

He wriggles and weasels around some more, leading the author of the Mediaite article to conclude:

That’s quite a drastic shift Comey made within a matter of hours.

It begs the question why the former FBI Director would tell Jake Tapper one thing and David Remnick another. Is it the fact that one interview was on television and the other was on radio? Did Comey simply change his mind between both interviews? Or did he knowingly withhold from Tapper how he felt about Hillary Clinton being our president?

Whatever the truth may be, the man who used to be the nation’s top cop should know of all people how suspicious it looks when someone who’s being interrogated changes their story.

It’s not so suspicious, really; it just confirms that Comey is exactly what we think he is, that’s all. As Treacher once so brilliantly said of Obama, Comey will say whatever he needs to say in order to get through the next five minutes.

That as sad and sorry an excuse for a man as Comey is could rise to the most dizzying heights of federal law enforcement is a wholly damning indictment of—well, everyone involved in his undue elevation, certainly. But also the FBI itself, the DOJ, even America’s degenerate federal government entire, too. The thing that makes it all so entertaining is just how bad he really is at being a scumbucket. Then again, all the good cops I know always say the same thing: it’s the incompetent crooks that get caught.

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Everymanwoman

These are my identities. If you don’t like them, I have others. Many others.

NY Gov. Cuomo Says He’s Muslim, Female, and Jewish, Among Other Things
It is becoming more and more obvious that former “Sex and the City” star Cynthia Nixon has New York Governor Andrew Cuomo a little panicky these days. Not only does Nixon have the celebrity power to raise money, but she’s been making the rounds with the progressive crowd in New York for a few years now. Cuomo is now lurching so hard to the left he may need chiropractic care soon. Here, he embarrassingly makes the case that being a New Yorker allows him to identify with, well, whichever group he wants to. It’s difficult to pick the most cringe-worthy claim, but I’ll go with when he says, “I am a woman…seeking to control her health and her choices.”

Translation for that last: (s)he’s pregnant, and wants to “control her health and her choices” by murdering the child. For the record, he’s also: heterosexual, homosexual, transgender, liberal, conservative, a dove, a hawk, black, white, Hispanic, Asian, a big-city elitist, a salt-of-the-earth Regular Guy, a lumberjack…and anything else anybody who might conceivably vote for him wishes him to be.

Reminds me of Ed Koch going around asking everyone within reach, “How’m I doing?,” only much more greasy, desperate, and insincere.

Speaking of pathetic and obnoxious:

From early on, the Clinton camp saw Trump as an enemy to encourage, Chozick writes. During the campaign, as had been previously reported, there was an effort to elevate Trump into a so-called Pied Piper in order to tie him to the mainstream of the Republican Party.

“An agenda for an upcoming campaign meeting sent by [Campaign Manager] Robby Mook’s office asked, ‘How do we maximize Trump?’” Chozick writes, describing a time when the GOP primary was still crowded.

Oops.

By the time of the conventions, though, as Trump was selected as the Republican nominee, the Clinton campaign was still trying to figure out how to improve her negative favorability ratings.

“A week earlier, she’d cut off Joel and the pollster John Anzalone, as they walked her through the almost daily reminder that half the country disliked her,” Chozick writes. “You know, I am getting pretty tired of hearing about how nobody likes me,” she said.

“‘Oh, what’s the point? They’re never going to like me,’ Hillary told this friend.”

Well, whaddya know. The snarling, incompetent trainwreck got something right. Once.

All that seems to lead into the damaging video of Clinton calling half of Trump supporters a “basket of deplorables,” at a New York fundraiser in September 2016.

That was no slip of the tongue, since “Hillary always broke down Trump supporters into three baskets,” Chozick writes.

  • “Basket #1: The Republicans who hated her and would vote Republican no matter who the nominee.
  • Basket #2: Voters whose jobs and livelihoods had disappeared, or as Hillary said, ‘who feel that the government has let them down, the economy has let them down, nobody cares about them, nobody worries about what happens in their lives and their futures.’

Translation: people who know that the economy let them down due to government interference with and mismanagement of it, who neither expect nor want the government to care about them or worry about their lives and their futures but to get the hell out of their way and leave them alone.

  • Basket #3: The Deplorables. This basket includes ‘the racist, sexist, homophobic, xenophobic, Islamophobic—you name it.’

Translation: people who are sick of being called racist; people who respect women but also relish the differences between the sexes; people who don’t really give a shit what people do in their bedrooms but also don’t like being harangued by radical-Left psychotics seeking to undermine and overthrow cherished American rights, traditions, and institutions for no real reason; people who think America has a first-order duty to secure and manage its borders; people who know who it is committing the overwhelming majority of terrorist atrocities, understand fully what’s really in the Koran, and are therefore cautious and skeptical about Muslim intentions.

But now we come to the most delightful part:

On the night of the election, Chozick describes a dejected Clinton when she was told by campaign staffers that it was over.

Goosebumps. I got actual goosebumps here.

“Of all the Brooklyn aides, Jen Palmieri had the most pleasant bedside manner,” Chozick writes. “That made her the designated deliverer of bad news to Hillary. But not this time. She told Robby there was no way she was going to tell Hillary she couldn’t win. That’s when Robby, drained and deflated, watching the results with his team in a room down the hall from Hillary’s suite, labored into the hallway of the Peninsula to break the news. Hillary didn’t seem all that surprised. ‘I knew it. I knew this would happen to me…’ Hillary said, now within a couple of inches of his face. ‘They were never going to let me be president.’”

Damned skippy we weren’t, whiny bitch. Now go soak your head in a vat of something 16 years old and 90 proof. Or hydrochloric acid, whichever is handier.

The advisers and staff quoted in this article and elsewhere were the people closest to her—people who had faith in her, supported her, and believed her qualified to be president, enough so to labor tirelessly (and thanklessly) on her behalf to make it so.

They were the people who worked with her for uncountably long hours, who saw her every single day—morning, noon, and night. The people who knew her better than anybody, if you wish to grant the (barely) possible exception of her “husband.” And they were all just terrified of her, to the embarrassing extreme of shirking their professional duty to bring her bad news, news that would shatter her delusional megalomania and sense of entitlement for all time.

Says quite a lot, don’t it?

Lord, what an awful woman. And what a deadly bullet the Republic dodged when we sent her ass packing once and for all.

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Election projection

Limbaugh is pretty danged confident:

RUSH: This is Marvin Kalb at the National Press Club’s Monday night live The Kalb Report event. He’s a professor at Harvard, and he’s talking with the New York Times White House correspondent Peter Baker about covering the White House under Trump.

KALB: I have been told by many of your colleagues how difficult it is to cover President Trump —

BAKER: Mmmph!

KALB: — that he simply dominates everything in the environment and therefore you get caught up, on any given day, covering the story that he sort of presents to you.

BAKER: He is a remarkable force of nature in a way I’ve never seen. So, in that environment, as you say, to kind of escape that vortex and focus on something of our own, you know, ambition, uhhh, is a challenge.

RUSH: Come on! What kind of dummkopfs do they think we are? These guys, Peter Baker and Marvin Kalb, are actually saying, “There’s all kinds of stuff we want to cover, but we don’t. We can’t! We can’t because Trump is forcing us to cover him. He does so much and he’s in the news so often that we can’t not cover…” It sounds to me like Trump has these guys wrapped around his little finger.

Continue reading “Election projection”

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Hopeful portents

The beginning of the end, or the end of the beginning?

I coined the term “Permanent Bipartisan Fusion Party” to describe the unholy bond between Republicans and Democrats in Washington, who have long existed in a kind of incestuous, sado-masochistic relationship in which each of them knows their place and, after a fashion, enjoys it.

On the one hand we have the largely regnant Evil Party, congressionally ascendant during the long reign of FDR and Harry Truman, which has since the 1970s gradually morphed into the anti-American “progressive” party devoted to perverting the Constitution and undermining the foundational principles of the republic in the name of discovering their “real,” if occult meaning. And on the other, the Stupid Party, which never met a promise it didn’t want to dishonor, a foreign war it didn’t want to fight, or a domestic fight it didn’t want to throw.

Despite his promising beginning as a policy wonk and charter member of the “Young Guns,” Ryan had become the face of the BPFP, a man who believed in the correctness of his policies but who never enjoyed being the tip of the spear—much less being on the receiving end of one. With all eyes and hopes upon him in 2012, there he was, sitting calmly by as a gibbering idiot named Joe Biden grimaced and guffawed his way through the vice-presidential debate, showering Ryan with sucker punches and spitballs and getting absolutely no payback in return.

When Ryan reluctantly stepped into the speaker’s chair owing to John Boehner’s sudden retirement, he had another chance to show he had the stomach, if not the appetite, for political combat, not to mention for the third-highest office in the land. But after promising to end Obamacare upon his party’s return to congressional dominance, he failed to deliver. The two wave elections of 2010 and 2014 gave the GOP what it said it needed…and nothing happened. And at that moment, the junior wing of the BPFP was doomed.

I know what you’re all asking yourselves right about now: does Kevin Williamson tie into this somehow? Why yes, actually. Yes, he surely does. Continue reading “Hopeful portents”

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The truth, at last

After having been buried for almost fifty years.

The new film “Chappaquiddick” is, to date, the most brutal and honest account of what happened that night. But it’s also something else: an indictment of our collective hero worship at the altar of Brand Kennedy, which bred so much corrosive entitlement that surviving brother Ted, the family beta male, went home to sleep it off after leaving a loyal young staffer to die alone.

As portrayed by Jason Clarke, the young senator is a venal, self-pitying coward, thoughtless and remorseless, ambition his only care. He treats loyalists and groupies with equal contempt, and as the weekend begins, he toasts them all for “wanting to prove yourselves worthy of…the Kennedy name.”

The film depicts Ted as drinking and driving before his black Oldsmobile 88 flies off a small wooden bridge and into a pond, crash-landing upside down.

According to contemporaneous accounts, the tide was dead low, the water only 5 or 6 feet deep. Both of the passenger-side windows were blown out. Kennedy later testified that Mary Jo might have been hitting or kicking him in her frantic struggle to escape. He claimed to have gone back under for her six or seven times but there is no proof. He was seen at 2:25 a.m. in dry clothes by a hotel desk clerk.

When Mary Jo’s body was recovered the next morning, it appeared that she died not of drowning but suffocation. She likely lived for hours. There she had been, her head and neck jammed at a sharp angle up against the foot board, gasping through a small air pocket. Was she wondering where Kennedy was? Was she convinced he was on the verge of coming back for her? That he had gone to get help?

After all, who would leave someone in this situation alone? Least of all someone who had suffered so much loss so young?

Ted Kennedy passed by nearby lighted homes and the local fire department as he walked back to his inn, away from the pond he’d later claim was deep and at high tide. He slept that night as Mary Jo took her last breaths.

The next morning, Ted refused to appear at the scene when summoned, demanding that the chief of police come down to the station. There, the chief finds Kennedy behind the cop’s own desk, reading a carefully worded statement. He doesn’t mention Mary Jo by her full name because he doesn’t know how to spell “Kopechne.”

Ten hours had passed since the car went in the water.

But Ted’s only concern is that he’ll never be president. Criminal charges don’t concern him, nor does he ever consider he might go to prison. He is, after all, a Kennedy.

Ted flees the island, helps block an autopsy, and attends Mary Jo’s funeral wearing a fake neck brace. For a time, he considers blaming the dead girl and telling the police that she was driving. Instead he blames the bridge, he claims exhaustion, he tells The New York Times he has a concussion and is on sedatives until The Times reporter informs him no doctor would ever give sedatives to someone who’s concussed.

In the end, Ted Kennedy pled to nothing more than leaving the scene of an accident and received a suspended sentence of two months’ jail time. He would never be president, but he spent the rest of his life held in high esteem by the Democratic party. When he died in 2009, Chappaquiddick and Mary Jo Kopechne were barely mentioned. Instead he was canonized by the Senate as its Liberal Lion, a fighter for the poor, the dispossessed and, yes, women.

The Kennedy family consists of unleavened scum almost to a man, and Ted was the scummiest of them all. Incredibly, though, the callous, self-serving negligence that caused Kopechne’s death was only the beginning of a long, storied career of abuse, immorality, criminality, and outright treason, from “waitress sandwiches” to innumerable dirty Senate deals to his clandestine trip to the Soviet Union to plead with Andropov for help in rigging the 1994 election and make him president.

The man was filth, a pustule, utter swine. He was a groteque perversion of the ideal of manhood, bereft of redeeming quality. If he ever committed a truly selfless or altruistic act, I never have heard of it. That his existence as a creature at liberty to indulge his every whim was tolerated by his fellows disgraces the very idea of human decency; that he never for a moment feared a legal reckoning of any kind for his loathsome depredations makes a mockery of any notion of justice and renders the principle of equality before the law a nauseating joke. That he remains a revered, cherished icon for the Democrat Socialist Party, their liberal-media handmaidens (who perpetuated the “Camelot” lie for decades, and still are), and Progressivists generally certifies their depraved iniquity better than any other single thing could.

Every man Jack of those diseased reprobates is well-slimed by the Kennedy sleaze. But Teddy still tops ’em all, and not by just a little bit. It’s great that the real story of Chappaquiddick is out there for mass-audience consumption at last. It’s appalling—and damning—that it only took fifty fucking years before it finally got done.

“The Lion of the Senate” lived far too long, and enjoyed a life spent wallowing in decadence, unearned affluence, privilege, and complete indifference to the harm he did to others without care or consequence far more than was just. If God could forgive him, then He is great indeed. Kennedy can roast in Hell for all eternity without succor or surcease for all me.

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Crunching some numbers

ZMan does it, and comes up with reasons for…well, I dunno if optimism is quite the mot juste, at least for me.

The conventional wisdom says the Republicans are headed for a bloodbath in the November midterm elections. Sadly for us, it will not be a literal bloodbath, but it could be a big swing in the representation of the House. The Senate is a different issue, as most of the seats up this time are currently held by Democrats. Many of them are in states that tilt Republican and many are held by blockheads like Debbie Stabenow of Michigan. The House is where the Democrats have a chance to claw back larger capitol offices.

Now, there are some things to keep in mind when thinking about this stuff. One is the mass media is mostly just the propaganda wing of the Democrat party, so they will be endlessly gas lighting us from now until November. Then there is the fact that the constant gerrymandering of House districts has made most of them bulletproof. About 15% of seats are truly competitive now. There’s also the fact that the Democrat freak show tends not to show up in midterms. The trans-lesbian of color voter is surprisingly unreliable.

To get some sense of what could happen this November, I took a look at the district by district results in presidential races over the last three cycles. If a Republican held a seat during the Obama years, it is a safe bet that the seat is solid GOP. If a Democrat held the seat, despite blowouts in 2010 and 2014, the safe bet is the seat is solid Democrat. The point is to eliminate the seats that are locks for either party in any election. The result is 183 seats that the GOP will always win and 194 that Democrat will always win.

Democrats do vastly worse in midterms than Republicans when they hold the White House. This is a familiarity breeds contempt issue. The average net loss for the Republicans is about 12 seats, with a high side of 30 under Bush in 2006. That 2006 election is probably the absolute bottom for the GOP. The Democrats rely on outlandish lies to get their way into majorities, so they suffer greatly in midterms. Their average loss is 31, which reflects a swing back to normal after a presidential election.

The GOP can look at history and figure they probably hold the House just on inertia. Even when the voters are really mad at them, like 2006, the losses are not catastrophic, despite the claims by the media. After the 2008 election, the media was carrying on about the dawn of the Progressive utopia. In reality, the country remained mostly Republican in inclination and that was proven out in the following midterm. The fact is, the GOP is the majority party in America, because it is the party of the white middle-class.

Now, the one sure way to keep the House in the hands of the GOP is to make sure the Republican president is popular. Reagan was suffering in the polls and his party suffered as a result. Bush was popular in 2002 and his party did well in his first midterm. Clinton was very popular in his second midterm and his party did well in that election. If the GOP wants to avoid a disaster this November, they would be wise to help Trump get over 50% in the polls. The obvious way to do that is help deliver on his campaign promises.

Of course, they may hate the idea of helping Trump more than the idea of Speaker Pelosi.

I don’t think there can be any doubt about that at this point; the useless GOPe has made it very clear that that is exactly how they feel. Which is why I said I’m not sure whether a GOP win in November is cause for either optimism or celebration. In view of ongoing skullduggery and treachery in defense of the status quo, I find myself becoming more and more indifferent as to how the Uniparty masks might get swapped around in the Deep State dumbshow this particular time around.

Two terms and out, for every last damned one of the villainous swine. Faint as it is, it remains the only hope of fixing things short of pitchforks, torches, gibbets, and heads on pikes—a development that, gratifying as it would no doubt be in the moment, is guar-on-teed to bring problems all its own.

Update! As I sort of expected him to sooner or later, Schlichter offers a counterpoint to my disgusted indifference.

Let’s start with the basic premise that the GOP establishment is terrible, and as its defining characteristic, its cowardice is only overshadowed by its sheer incompetence.

See, that’s where we differ. I don’t think the “defining characteristic” is either of those things, although they certainly have those too, in spades. I think it’s fraudulence. The GOP isn’t afraid to take on the Left or the Deep State. Nor is it incapable of doing so due to incompetence. I think it’s simply something they have no desire at all to do. The Obamacare repeal bait and switch reveals that well enough.

But even those hacks might be able to win the midterms and keep hope alive for the resurrection of the America we love. It’s all thanks to the aggressive scumminess of our leftist enemies – and yeah, anyone proposing to take my God-given rights to speak, worship, and defend myself, and/or my life, all of which they have recently told me they seek to take, is my enemy.

Take notice, GOPe: If you want to keep your jobs, you need to stop going on vacation and perform.

Mitch McConnell gets a lot of grief (I think he’s usually a savvy legislative knife fighter, though many of people I respect disagree), yet it’s indisputable that he could convert himself from base zero to base hero overnight. All he has to do is step up to the mic and say, “Starting at 8 a.m. Saturday morning we begin the 30 hours of debate on America’s next ambassador to Germany Ric Grenell. I’d advise my friends across the aisle to bring their sleeping bags n’ jammies because we will go one nominee after another, 24/7, until either all the President’s nominees are confirmed or they agree to unanimous consent to proceed on final votes. The horse hockey stops now.”

And then he needs to do it.

Actually, what he REALLY needs to do, should have done already, and WOULD have done five minutes after Trump’s inauguration if he wasn’t exactly the phony snake in the grass I’ve been saying he is for a while now, is end the filibuster. There’s no reason he can’t do it, no reason not to do it; it would be an excellent first step towards dealing a crippling blow to Democrat Socialist obstructionism—IF he was sincere about wanting to do that.

The rest of Kurt’s piece is just pure wishful thinking, unfortunately. They’re all great ideas, mind, and would not only inspire and invigorate real Americans to an undreamed-of degree but would also yield positive practical results for the MAGA project. But not a single one of them has a ghost of a chance of happening as long as the Uniparty establishment has anything to say about it. That sorry reality alone tells you all you need to know about who and what the status-quo GOP really is.

And that in turn reinforces my indifference, I’m afraid. To adapt what the Emperor said to Mozart in Amadeus: You are passionate, Herr Schlichter. But you do not persuade.

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On safari

It’s about damned time somebody did this.

My editors had given me this assignment as something of a lark. The idea: Just as reporters from New York and D.C. trek into Trump Country to visit greasy spoons and other corners of Real America™ to measure support for the candidate, I’d venture from Trump Country to the most stereotypical bastions of coastal liberal elitism, and ask the people I met whether they still support Hillary Clinton. An innocent abroad, I would leave Hamilton County, Indiana, a deep-red suburb north of Indianapolis that Trump won by nearly 20 points, the kind of place where the Koch brothers are presently carpet-bombing Democrat Senator Joe Donnelly with $2 million in television and digital ads for his vote against the Tax Cuts and Jobs Act. Once on the decadent East Coast, I would luxuriate in its undiluted upscale liberal consensus at bookstores, wine bars, cafes and other Blue State institutions peopled by NPR tote-bagging sophisticates. Perhaps I’d drop in on something activist-y, a meeting of Resistance types. It was a trip that would take me across three states, from a food co-op in Brooklyn to an unabashedly liberal bookstore in Bethesda, all in counties Clinton won by at least 60 percent or more of the vote.

You know going in that there’s no way that such an intrepid trek across a bizarre alien landscape could result in anything less than sidesplitting hilarity. And so it is. But the most important point comes early on; it’s one you CF long-timers will be quite familiar with.

Continue reading “On safari”

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Damn dirty apes hippies

Shithole.

Years ago, Tom Wolfe published a funny piece dealing with the reappearance during the Summer of Love of diseases never seen in the modern epoch. Wolfe’s overall term for these disorders was, if I recall correctly, “The Crud.” Doctors were unfamiliar with these conditions and in some cases uncertain as to how to treat them. Some of those children of nature ended up with chronic disorders.

This served as a life lesson for the counterculture, most of whom resumed bathing. But now, fifty years later, we – at least those of us in California – are about to receive another such lesson, this one more drastic and widespread.

Over the past year or so, AT readers have derived quite a few laughs over what has come to be called the “s‑‑‑ map,” a map of the neighborhoods of San Francisco in which the streets are inundated with human waste left by the homeless. (Some commentators assumed that the map was intended as a warning to tourists. But in fact, its creator has recently added a comment asserting that it is intended to “bring attention to the issue of homelessness.” Thanks very much.)

Currently unknown in the industrialized West (most doctors have never seen a case), cholera was a filth-based disease caused by human and animal waste and nothing else. Originating in the Ganges delta, cholera spread across the planet until, in the 19th century, it was a standard feature of urban life. Cholera epidemics were chronic, breaking out wherever sewage mixed with drinking water. Cholera was an oddity among diseases in that it often progressed with no visible symptoms. An individual showing no symptoms at all could suddenly collapse at noon and be dead by sundown.

Cholera still exists in the Third World. According to the WHO, the most recent pandemic broke out of South Asia in 1961 and reached the Americas by the 1990s. “Cholera is now endemic in many countries.”

We will also point out that the city of San Francisco is a sanctuary city, or, in the words of the ordinance itself, “a City and County of Refuge.” That is, San Francisco has put out the welcome mat for tens of thousands of third-world illegals. The city has made itself a magnet for refugees from countries with no modern sewage systems and no tradition of personal hygiene – the same countries in which the WHO asserts that cholera has become “endemic.”

So put these two factors together – streets engulfed in human s‑‑‑ and immigrants from countries overrun with infectious diseases – and what do we get?

No more than we—they, rather—deserve. In the Left’s case, for being idiots. In our case, for putting up so long with their…ummm, shit.

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Make it stop!

My God, but the EGO on this douchebag.

Former President Barack Obama and first lady Michelle Obama are negotiating a major production deal with Netflix, The New York Times reported on Thursday night.

The pending deal would bring exclusive content from the Obamas to the streaming site’s 118 million subscribers. It was not immediately clear what types of content they would deliver to the site, but Eric Schultz, a former adviser to the president told the Times: “President and Mrs. Obama have always believed in the power of storytelling to inspire.”

One possible show idea, the newspaper said, could involve Obama discussing topics that were germane to his policies as president — including health care, voting rights, and immigration, The Times said.

Those topics comprise portions of the legislative agenda he exercised during his time in the White House — many of which President Donald Trump has sought to roll back since he took office last year.

May I suggest a title? “Vital Social Issues ‘N’ Stuff, with Barky.” Sure, it’s lifted from Kelly Bundy’s short-lived show on Married With Children. But I’m confident His Majesty’s show will be of comparable quality and worth, if nowhere near as enjoyable to watch.

Despite my expectation that watching the abominable thing will be capable of inflicting actual, physical pain on saner sorts, I’m equally confident that Oshitstain will have a dismaying number of palpitating, worshipful droolcases eager to tune in and lap up his every lecture—his maddening drone falling on their ears like the sweet singing of angels, stimulating them into quivering, weeping near-catatonia. Like, say, this idiot.

It’s easy to look at what’s happening in Washington DC and despair. That’s why I carry a little plastic Obama doll in my purse. I pull him out every now and then to remind myself that the United States had a progressive, African American president until very recently. Some people find this strange, but you have to take comfort where you can find it in Donald Trump’s America.

That was belched forth by some dizzy bint in the course of touting the anticipated (by her) Blue Wave, wherein soothing memories of the earthly rein of her Lord and Savior Obama will inspire millions of normal Americans to vote in favor of re-impoverishing themselves, re-unemploying themselves, re-taxing themselves into penury, and re-subjecting themselves to endless hectoring, harassment, and random violent assault by freaks, illegal aliens, perverts, street bums, criminal thugs, gun-grabbers, Marxists, Antifa fascists, Al Franken, Mexican gangbangers, crooked career politicians, Harvey Weinstein, Muslim rapefugees, duly-deputized shadow minions of the Deep State, and assorted other dysfunctional malcontents, psychopaths, and creepazoids. IE, the Democrat-Socialist constituency en bloc.

And then, when the victims of these reprobates are desirous of the healing balm of diverting entertainment to ease the pain of their financial, spiritual, and physical wounds, they can sit back on the couch, tune in Netflix, and subject themselves to a pantload of sniffy condescension from His Majesty himself reminding them that it’s all their fault because America Sucks That’s Why, and that he’s very disappointed in the way they’ve let him down. Again.

Whatever Obama-licking liberal butt-boy conceived this devil’s deal with the Clown Prince Of Darkness to turn Netflix into O-TV ought to have his ass beat like a drum seven days a week, and twice on Sunday. Hopefully the ratings will handle that chore for us, if only in the figurative sense.

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Toxic liberalism

Can’t believe I didn’t come up with that term myself already.

What kind of man does society value?

Appropriately docile, neutered, feminized ones. Which is to say: none.

Well, for starters, men are not really valued by society the way they used to be. The loss of manufacturing and the shift to service-sector jobs has played a role in that. Also, the rise of school curricula that favors girls over boys has contributed to not only the diminishment of men, but likely also to the disproportionate numbers of women opting to go to college (and graduating) compared to their male counterparts. So, too, has the diminishment of community, thanks to the internet and the insane schedules in peoples’ lives today that very often leaves them isolated and alone.
We mustn’t forget that Pop Culture very often portrays men as sex-crazed maniacs, to be hated and feared. Or, in the case of popular family situation comedies, the fathers are portrayed as dunderheads to be pitied and constantly one-upped by their chirping children and nagging wives. Of course, there is always rap culture, excessively violent video games, and films, to further warp a young man’s mind.

For America to survive, it needs an accountable and responsible citizenry (and government). We cannot be free under any other circumstance. Free societies tend to be the most prosperous. The more erosion of responsibility we endure as citizens, the more powerful the state will become, and the less free we will all be (and therefore, we’ll be less prosperous and less safe). Unlike modern Liberals, the Founding Fathers firmly believed that the American people were responsible enough to possess firearms, which is why they enshrined that belief in the Second Amendment of the Constitution. The Left blames guns and wants to take them from ordinary citizens because the Left wants to diminish personal responsibility, knowing full well that the act will erode your liberty. Since responsibility has historically been associated with masculinity, classic masculinity itself has been deemed “toxic,” and our young men are told to abandon those virtues in favor of… something… anything else. This is not tenable.

Until we rid the country of toxic Liberalism, our society will continue churning out more young men like Nikolas Cruz, and America’s inexorable decline will become terminal.

You said a mouthful there, buddy. As for the wilting hothouse flowers some are pleased to refer to as “men” nowadays, how ’bout them Broward Cowards, eh?

Not one but four sheriff’s deputies hid behind cars instead of storming Marjory Stoneman Douglas HS in Parkland, Fla., during Wednesday’s school shooting, police claimed Friday — as newly released records revealed the Broward County Sheriff’s Office had received at least 18 calls about the troubled teen over the past decade.

Sources from Coral Springs, Fla., Police Department tell CNN that when its officers arrived on the scene Wednesday, they were shocked to find three Broward County Sheriff’s deputies behind their cars with weapons drawn.

Well, y’know, the main thing is that they all made it home at the end of their shift, right?

Loath as I am to offer it, there is an argument to be made in defense of the perfidy of these sniveling wretches. No really, there is. I only wish I was joking.

The Broward County Sheriff’s Office (BSO) didn’t “miss warning signs” or make “mistakes” in not writing up reports. The Sheriff’s office did exactly what their internal policies, procedures and official training required them to do, they intentionally ignored the signs, and intentionally didn’t generate documents.

It is important to understand the policy here. Broward County law enforcement (Sheriff Israel), in conjunction with Broward County School Officials (Superintendent Runcie and School Board), have a standing policy to ignore any criminal engagement with High School students.

Secondly, the 27 minute tape-delay in the CCTV system is not an “accident”, “flaw” or “mistake”. It is entirely by design.

As a standard Broward and Miami-Dade practice, when school law enforcement need to cover-up or hide behavior, they need time (when that behavior happens) to delete the evidence trail. As such the school policy -as carried out in practice- is more efficient with a 30 minute tape delay affording the school officer enough time to deal with the situation, then erase the possibility of a recording of the unlawful activity surfacing.

Building in a 30 minute delay on the CCTV system was one of those pesky add-on items that happened a few years ago when the School and Law Enforcement officials established the policy of intentionally not arresting students.

With modern technology it’s tough to hide criminal behavior, especially the violent stuff, when it is being recorded. Duh. Ergo the tape-delay was the best-practice workaround.

Lastly, when the county education policy is intentionally constructed to ignore criminal behavior in schools, the Sheriff and School superintendent cannot rely on “law-and-order-minded” school police officers to carry out the heavily nuanced policy. The county officials need the people closest to the work, the officers, to be able to think quickly on their feet to safeguard their prized district-wide statistics.

A Broward County SRO must carry a political hat and be able to intercept behavior, modify his/her action based on a specific policy need, falsify documents, hide evidence, manipulate records and engage inside the system with an understanding of the unwritten goals.

Broward County school law enforcement are given political instructions, and carrying out political objectives. They are not given law-enforcement instructions.

It shouldn’t be too hard to read between the lines and figure out what this policy is really all about. Violence, disruptive behavior, and many other disciplinary problems are inevitably going to be the near-exclusive province of a handful of unruly and unmanageable black students in most any school of a certain size. The sad reality is that such is the case in way more schools than just this one, and everybody knows it. But nobody dares say a word about it, much less take action to either get the troublemakers under some sort of control or get them the hell out for good should they prove to be beyond disciplining. That would cause way more problems than anybody really wants to deal with if they can avoid it; as Sundance points out, the goal here is not security or even order, but keeping those stats looking good and that paperwork tidy.

So school authorities, to include the cops and/or other security personnel on the grounds, have tacitly agreed to tie their own hands and avert their eyes in the hope that all the ugliness will just go away somehow. The can gets kicked on down the road into somebody else’s bailiwick: no responsibility, no reckoning, no career-imperiling fuss or muss. No sand to clog the gears and disrupt the thrumming of the Pointless Machine—a machine whose sole purpose has devolved into perpetuating its own existence, and nothing more. It all adds up to just another case of sweeping the problems caused ultimately by Toxic Liberalism under the rug, along with all the other mouldering old bones.

Really, when you give it some thought, it’s pretty much the way government at every level above, say, a well-run small-town mayor’s office operates. Which in turn is a big part of the reason why the Founders insisted via the Constitution that government be kept as close to the governed as possible: to keep it accessible to them, to ensure its accountability to them, to facilitate corrective action when (not if) it went astray. It’s plain to see where our having wandered so far from that ideal has gotten us, for anyone with eyes to see and the stomach for looking.

Lame bureaucratic justifications aside, however, in a case like this—a murderous lunatic in the act of slaughtering innocent kids and teachers inside the building—I find it difficult to get my head around the notion of cops so despicable, so craven, as to cower and cringe from cover in response…rules or no rules, policy or no policy. As with the military, a willingness to put themselves in the way of physical harm—to lay their lives on the line to protect the public—is part and parcel of the oath they swear, if it isn’t explicitly stated in specific versions of it here and there. It is the bones and sinew of the very concept of “duty.” In many places, “To protect and serve” is painted right on the friggin’ doors of their patrol cars, for crying out loud.

Looks like the South Park version (“To harass and annoy”) is WAY nearer the mark in Broward County, it turns out.

I’ve mentioned many times here that I have friends and family both who are or were cops, and I can tell you with absolute confidence that not a one of them would have reacted in such a contemptible fashion. They would have gone in there and done whatever they could to end it, ass-covering, weasel-worded policies and rules be damned. As it happens, I had a brief conversation earlier today with one of them about all this, an old regular at the Harley shop I used to work at, now a retired homicide detective. The shame and grief—the horror—he felt was an almost palpable thing, although it was in no way his burden to bear. It was unjustly spattered over him by much lesser men than he: betrayers of public trust and confidence, grotesque parodies of real police officers, entirely unworthy of the badges they besmirched.

We all have to pray that their numbers are small, that they’re exceptions that prove a worthier rule. Maybe they should have all just joined the FBI instead.

Update! Apparently, the fish really DOES rot from the head.

Broward County Sheriff Scott Israel—the man whose agency failed to prevent the Parkland massacre despite having received a tip last November that Nikolas Cruz was plotting a mass shooting—has been accused of public corruption.

Asked about the allegations, Israel responded, “What have I done differently than Don Shula or Abraham Lincoln or Martin Luther King, Gandhi?”

He also said, “Lions don’t care about the opinions of sheep.” That’s a paraphrase of a quote from the Game of Thrones character Tywin Lannister, a villainous public administrator known for promoting his family’s interests ahead of the government’s or the people’s.

The man is vile. There’s just no other word for it. God only knows what he and his loathsome fellows have gotten up to and gotten away with over the years. It’s a cinch that this is only the tip of a very big, very dirty iceberg.

Hey, wait a minute here: did this crooked cop—whose underlings refused to do their duty and allowed kids under their dubious “protection” to be slaughtered, shirking all a-tremble in their hidey-holes while cops from a neighboring cop-shop stepped around them to righteously fulfill their oaths—just compare himself to Lincoln, Ghandi, and MLK?

Seriously? SERIOUSLY?!?

Suddenly, a lot of incomprehensible things begin to make sense. Clearly this department needs a thorough scrubbing down, starting with the slime on top. If I was a taxpaying citizen of Broward County, I’d be highly pissed at seeing what my tax dollars had been supporting all this time. Like, torches, pitchforks, tar, and feathers pissed. But maybe that’s just me.

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History and patterns

Daniel digs deep to unearth some riveting ones, yielding insight into the ugly way the Clinton Crime Syndicate does business, and always has.

Cody Shearer is also the author of another Russia-Trump dossier used by the FBI, a memo that Steele, the author of the better known dossier, passed along. How did Steele come to possess Shearer’s memo? Shearer was one of Bill’s plumbers, notorious for spreading and circulating scandals aimed at Republicans. He’s also been accused of targeting and intimidating Bill Clinton’s victims. 

Is it more likely that a British agent happened to independently come across a memo by a Clinton political operative that echoed his own material or that his dossier was based on the memo? Was the Steele dossier an original piece of work by a former British intel agent doing his own research or had he been hired to put some meat on a conspiracy theory created by a Dem political operative? 

We don’t know the answer. Yet. But it’s quite possible that Steele, Russian intel operatives and all the other elements of the vast campaign were never more than window dressing on a smear from the same guy who had peddled the Dan Quayle cocaine story the last time the Clintons needed help. 

The Steele dossier, with its sloppy fact-checking and lurid tales of prostitutes urinating in a Moscow hotel, is far too unprofessional to be the work of a British ex-intel agent, but it reads like a Cody Shearer smear. Nasty and vicious has always been Shearer’s stock in trade as a variety of Republicans can testify.

Before Fusion GPS, there was Investigative Group International (IGI). Like Fusion GPS, IGI was a shadowy organization that specialized in digging up dirt for insiders. IGI’s boss was a longtime Clinton pal and the organization was turned loose on Bill Clinton’s political enemies. Shearer was accused of working as a subcontractor for IGI to go after George H.W. Bush and Dan Quayle.

There are still many questions to be answered about the Steele dossier. But the most important question is how a piece of opposition research was transformed into a law enforcement matter. 

And what is most troubling is that it may not even be the first time that the Clintons have pulled that off. 

The campaign against Trump is unprecedented because of the scale of the abuses. The collusion between Obama government officials and Clinton campaign personnel transformed opposition research into a license for surveillance on the political opposition. A conspiracy theory from the Clinton campaign became leverage for delegitimizing and trying to reverse the results of an election. And the conspiracy theory that elements of the FBI loyal to the Democrats relied upon to attack Trump originated from the deepest sewer in Clintonworld that had been covertly smearing political enemies for decades.

The Clintons are done. But their legacy lives on after them. The Russia conspiracies and the Mueller investigation continue to divide this nation even though Hillary’s political career is deader than Julius Caesar. Fusion GPS is still around. So is IGI. And there are other organizations like them out there. 

There will always be political operatives like Cody Shearer out there. But if we don’t insulate law enforcement from them, elections won’t be determined by voters, they’ll be decided by political coups disguised as scandals. The establishment and its private police state will decide who runs the country.

The damage wantonly done to America and its institutions by the Clintons, Obama, and the amoral lust for naked power that drives the sorry lot of them is damned nigh beyond calculation. It is no exaggeration to say that these are ugly, indecent, treacherous, and dangerous people, being entirely unburdened by scruple, conscience, or virtue. Years ago it was my considered practice to regularly dump on Bill Clinton by calling him a near-sociopath; this, after all, is a man known to relentlessly pursue his every desire and ambition without the slightest pang of either shame or remorse over the harm—real harm, serious and lasting harm—done to those he victimized along the way.

Seems to me that at this stage of the game, after having watched him at his grubby pursuit of self-aggrandizement for decades now, we can comfortably dispense with the “near-” qualifier. It stupefies me to know that the dirty wretch can still dupe anybody at all with the thin scrim of humanity he tosses over his maleficence and depravity like a tattered, threadbare old shawl. Yet somehow, he does. Far more than just a handful of those dupes, too. One can only stand back and marvel over it in…well, whatever it is, admiration probably isn’t quite the word for it.

But bad as Bill is, Hillary is probably worse, lacking as she does the soulless caricature of empathy that enhances The Creep’s manipulations by allowing him to fraudulently present himself as a caring, ordinary guy drawn to politics by a simple desire to be of assistance in alleviating the travails of his fellow citizens. Compared to the pair of them, the narcissistic, thimble-deep Obama is but a callow amateur, a real greenhorn, despite the fact that he’s actually a pretty nasty piece of work in his own right. The universally-reviled Nixon—held over Republican heads since the 70s by liberals as Satan, Charles Manson, Ed Gein, and Hitler all rolled into one appalling lump—doesn’t even rank on the same scale as these toads. Next to the Clintons, poor old Tricky Dick begins to look more like Santa Claus or Mother Teresa instead. They leave him in the shade by a considerable margin.

Looking at the bigger picture, it is to this country’s undying shame and detriment both that we ever allowed without protest the rise of a professional-politician class at all, in feckless disregard of our Founders’ passionately-expressed warnings against that very thing. The Clintons are of course extraordinary, highest-order examples of that repellent breed, the pinnacle of its evolution to date. But the basic traits developed to such an extreme in the Clintons are no more than typical of very nearly all of that class: absolute and insatiable megalomania; the ability to tell any lie, either trifling or egregious, without so much as batting an eyelash if it’s useful to them in the moment; facility for convincingly feigning emotions one does not feel to even the most infinitesimal degree, such as contrition, compassion, concern, regret, gratitude, or humility; falsely evincing respect for the opinions, ambitions, or concerns of one’s constituents; ability to conceal contempt for those constituents with fawning, near-groveling obsequiousness, and to pretend to enjoy being in their midst when occasionally necessary for campaign purposes; shamelessness astounding in its depth and breadth, even when caught in the very act of the most humiliating transgressions one could imagine; a self-confident, ever-ready glibness, supporting a talent for quickly assessing on the fly the response most likely to be deemed appropriate after being caught in such a transgression; a con artist’s eye for the gullible, credulous, and easily-led; a boundless egotism, inspiring an unshakeable belief in one’s own irreplaceability as the only real hope of meaningful progress for the benighted dimwits who vote for you; a bone-deep conviction that you deserve all the power you so viscerally crave, and that you are not only qualified but duty-bound to order the lives of those you rule rather than govern according to your innate superiority.

These traits among others…and Bill Clinton is the uncontested Lord and Master of them all, doubtless the envy of every lesser pretender to his mighty throne: Crazy Bernie Sanders, who never did a day’s honest work in his life, a thoroughly inadequate man who nonetheless feels himself adequate to rule the rest of us under a socialist tyranny; Lieawatha the Injun Maid, whiter-than-white appropriator of indigenous Native American culture, hypocrite nonpareil; creepy boob Joe “Feel Em Up Feel Em Up Grope Grope Grope” Biden, standing ready to heed the call of exactly no one and offer his unwanted service to the nation in yet another of his serial bumbling runs for the Oval Office; the execrable, befuddled, and increasingly pathetic empty suit John Kasich; eminently bribable serial molester John “No Reasonable Offer Refused” Conyers; even Slick Willie’s own “wife” too—who, after her last stinging repudiation, must find even brief proximity to her husband-in-name-only so grating as to be damned near intolerable by now, an excruciating reminder of the contrast between his success and her failure.

They all envy him, and quietly hate him for attaining a summit of professional-politician greasiness and smarm too lofty for them to so much as credibly aspire to. Or they would, that is, were they capable of a moment’s honest self-reflection and awareness. Which they aren’t, fortunately for them; if they were, they’d be spontaneously combusting in the streets from burning shame.

Yep, even as The Creep fades into obscurity and Constitutionally-mandated electoral irrelevance, he haunts their thoughts still. That’s got to just frost their nuts but good. Especially Hillary’s big brass ones. You want a Clinton legacy? Right there it is, bub: Bill’s ghostly presence darkening the Progressivist mind like a lingering shadow. That dubious legacy will endure a good long time, too, until the last backcountry dog-catcher to defraud his way into office under the ragged Democrat-Socialist rubric gives it up at last and decides to call himself something else next time out, just for appearance’s sake.

This nation indubitably owes Trump a mighty debt, one difficult to calculate and impossible to repay, for thwarting the Clintons’ re-infestation of the White House if for nothing else. It’s a measure of the NeverTrumpTards’ insane, myopic folly that they remain disgruntled by it—those dwindling few of them still aquiver with bitter indignation over an upstart electorate’s daring to ignore Conservative Inc’s predictions of calamity should DC business as usual be disrupted by such a vulgar, unserious buffoon, at any rate. The 2016 election was a pivotal, watershed moment in American politics: an election that truly did matter, to an extent that precious few of them have for decades now. There are plenty of others, of course, but looming largest among the reasons why is the unanticipated reprieve from a descent into the depths of a rerun nightmare, another dunking in the Clintonian cesspool.

So thank you, Mr President. From the bottom of my own heart, anyway, if not Ewan McMuffin’s, David French’s, or any other Vichy GOPe sad sack who prefers the comforting familiarity of defeat at the hands of a true blackguard to the risky uncertainty of meaningful victory.

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"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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