GIVE TIL IT HURTS!

Guilty of being white

Y’all will remember the “White Culture” image I posted yesterday, I’m sure. Well, the pic was hijacked from a Bad Cattitude post which I only just finished reading today, which I think very much merits an excerpt.

how we got to here
how moral relativism destroyed sanity and how objectivity can bring it back

how did we break politics and academia and society to the point where the madmen are running the asylum and the joker has become police commissioner of gotham?

how have we descended to the point where mayors of major cities are suing car companies because “cars that dress like that are asking for it!”

we legalize crime, criminalize dissent, and elevate literal lunatics as luminaries and leaders.

everything sane and sound is under assault and the biggest problem these “intellectuals” see is that it is not being attacked hard enough.

the thing about crazy people is they tend to be so convinced of whatever they are afflicted by that they present as somehow trustworthy. they do not evince the cues of mendacity because they don’t feel like liars, they don’t know they are crazy or that they have succumbed to externalized identity. pile up enough of it and it starts to work like gaslighting. it starts to make you question your own sanity and makes it seem like maybe you’re the crazy one.

you aren’t.

it’s not wrong to want beauty and sanity and trust.

it’s wrong to despise them.

calling the ugly beautiful and the beautiful ugly is not progressive, it’s pathology. it’s the broken sputtering of a machine bent past use, the desperate grasping of desperate people devoid of virtue but endlessly covetous of its trappings and determined to burn the world if it means they get to have a little authority and power.

these are the failures elevated by mistaking protestations of marginalization and grievance for quality of character.

you can have objective morality and beauty or you can have abject failure and hideousness.

there’s really no middle way, no accommodation, no safe dosage.

No, there most certainly is not. In keeping with my “liberal/Leftism is a cancer on the body politic” theorem, it simply doesn’t pay to pussyfoot around with the shitlib sickness—you either eradicate it or succumb to it, there is no Third Way.

At risk of sounding like a broken record this evening, I can but say yet again: read the whole thing.

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Squatters rights

“Vigilantes”? Hardly, seems to me.

‘Vigilantes’ try to evict squatters at $1M Queens house after homeowner who confronted them is arrested in tense standoff
A pair of vigilantes allegedly tried to forcefully evict three alleged squatters from a million-dollar Queens home after the homeowner was arrested when she changed the locks and tried to remove them.

Two unidentified men driving a black pickup truck pulled into the driveway of the Flushing home searching for the tenants Tuesday afternoon, according to the Daily Mail.

“We are looking to get this guy out,” one of the men allegedly said, a neighbor told the outlet. “I am here to talk to him. I want to see why he is here.”

Adele Andaloro, 47, was in the process of selling the property when the group shadily took refuge in the home last month.

Andaloro inherited the $1 million property from her parents after they died.

She confronted the trio and changed the locks in hopes they would not be able to re-enter if they left.

However, a male inside the home called the police on Andaloro, who was later arrested.

Neighbors have noticed some concerning activity from the house since the alleged squatters snaked their way into the home.

Residents of tight-knit Queens Street, which many have called home for over 30 years, expressed that they’re ready to do as much as possible to get the alleged intruders out. Some have even floated the idea of starting a petition in hopes that it will help, according to the Daily Mail.

A beloved community member, Andaloro put the two-story home on the market, but that’s when the tenants got in and brazenly replaced the entire front door and locks.

Before her arrest on Feb. 29 — which was captured by ABC’s “Eyewitness News” — Andaloro faced off with the group in a tense standoff.

The police were eventually called and escorted two people off the property. 

With at least three apparent residents still inside, cops told Andaloro she had to sort the saga out in housing court because it was considered a “landlord-tenant issue” before she was arrested.

Utterly, utterly pathetic. Unless and until the nabe gets itself some serious vigilantes willing to adopt measures a bit more forceful than “talking” and petitions, Queens Street will just have to live with their new “neighbors” whether they like it or not.

I lived on the top floor of a five-floor walkup on 13th between 1st and 2nd in Manhattan for a year (ask me how much I love stairs!). In one of the two ground-floor-front apartments was a woman who’d lived there rent-free for over ten years; she had sued the landlord over some piffling dispute or other, and they’d been tangled up in court ever since, resulting in her refusal to pay another dime of rent. She fully expected to continue living there without paying rent indefinitely, and is probably there still.

Artist Joe Coleman lived in the apartment directly under mine; I used to run into him all the time in the stairwells or just sitting out on the front stoop, one of my favorite things to do on my days off work, weather permitting. Old Joe was what used to be politely referred to as “a real character,” had lived in the building for years himself. And Lord, the horror stories he used to tell me about that old building!

I’d never thought much about it until Joe commended it to my attention, but in the quieter watches of the night you’d hear this strange sound as of sand sifting down between and behind the walls—which, according to Joe, is exactly what it was. The plaster was crumbling, the joists and interior timbers eroding, the whole mess slooooowly slip-sliding away into the basement all night and day. There were only three months left on our lease when Joe related this to me; me and the gf decided we would NOT be re-upping.

One night, our power went out during a bad thunderstorm. I grabbed my trusty Maglite and hurried downstairs to see if I could find a breaker to reset or a fuse in need of replacing, wherever the damned box turned out to be; I had no idea about that, all I knew for sure was that there wasn’t one in our apartment. On the ground floor I ran into the building super on his way to the basement, a friendly, avuncular sort who I’d come to know a little, and who seemed quite glad to see me…or my flashlight, more like.

He led me through the basement to the main fuse box, where I replaced three blown fuses with new ones he handed me from his pocket. On our way back out, he pointed out two rows, stacked three high, of plywood cubicles along either side of our path: cramped, stuffy holes containing bedding, items of clothing, miscellaneous unidentifiable bric-a-brac. These cubicles were almost hilariously poorly-built and flimsy-looking, as if they’d been designed and constructed by a little kid using the Fisher-Price Jr Carpentry Set Santy Claus had left under the tree last Christmas.

The odor wafting from this subterranean jungle—stale sweat, dirty linens and/or clothes, unwashed bodies, rotting fruit, human piss—was literally eye-watering.

The super explained to me with a conspiratorial grin what I was looking at: here in this dark, dank 13th St basement were the living quarters for about thirty or forty Chinese illegals, who exchanged a measly rent every Monday for the right to coop a few hours a day in these squalid, nightmarish little rats’ nests, spending the other 18 to 20 hours working in garment-district sweatshops; shared-storage waterfront warehouses or outer-borough factories; Chinatown restaurants, or whatever other sketchy employment an illegal alien could scrounge to bring in coolie wages he could kite to his Honorable Family back home.

I had heard of such arrangements before, of course—what New Yorker hasn’t? Same-same could be found under any number of non-luxury buildings all over the Lower East Side, I knew. Trust me, though, it’s one thing to know intellectually that these things, these people, exist; it’s quite another to see it in front of your very eyes, under your very nose. I was neither naif enough to be shocked, nor jaded enough to just shrug it off and forget about it. In fact, I never have.

Rent control, squatters rights, property owners who are paid more by the city to keep their residential buildings vacant than they could hope to make renting them—NYC’s real estate regulations are a jumbled, incomprehensible maze of payola, corruption, and backscratching that neither tenants, property managers, or owners are at all happy with; that artificially keep rents at insanely-inflated levels; that keep dangerously decrepit buildings in desperate need of repair neglected; and that leave entire city neighborhoods unstable, unprofitable, unaffordable, and unsafe.

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“Dear progressives, this is why we hate you”

Lincoln Brown offers an open letter of explanation.

Most of the moaning and groaning sycophants in the MSM will tell you that conservatives hate people of color, LGBTQ people, and immigrants. That is, of course, patently untrue. We don’t like crime, big government, people who want to pervert children, and hypocrites. We are fine with people of color and legal immigrants, and an increasing number of conservatives don’t care about someone’s orientation. We can even look the other way if a man decides he is a woman and wants to hang around Home Depot in an evening gown and heels. Just don’t mess with children’s growing bodies and minds. Other than that, your life is your own to screw up if you so choose.

What irks us is that you are not content to live your lives as you see fit. You demand that we live our lives as you see fit. Do you want to know the nature of our beef? Do you want to know why so many people back Trump? That’s why. If you want to live in a dumpster fire, fine. Just don’t make us climb in with you.

Which brings us to Natalie Castillo.

This Castillo “person,” as you may recall, is the stupid California bint who, of their own free will and entirely uncoerced, moved next door to a Nashville butcher shop, a family business which has operated in the neighborhood since the 1940s. MSXXZZZ Castillo and her “partner,” being far too delicate and evolved to bear the horrible, awful, offensive stench of meat being cooked, sprang into action without delay.

On June 17, 2021, Roy Meat Service’s new neighbor expressed belief that RMS is a “nuisance,” with the smell of meat cooking. What seems like a very frivolous thing has now become a legal battle. There has been 46 complaints filed against RMS to city and State agencies about the property, and to Metro Codes regarding 605 South 19th Street, the address of Roy Meat Service. The complaints include “concerns” about the establishment’s fencing, lightning, “junk” on the store’s property, and even the store front’s sign.

To date, Jeff has spent more than $20,000 on costs of excessive renovations based on the complaints, and legal fees to cover representation in the pending lawsuit.

East Nashvillians—REAL Nashvillians, that is, not Callyfrootopian transplants who insist on bringing their shitlib neuroses with them regardless of where they go—bit back. HARD.

Residents have been vocal in their support for the business owner.

“I think it’s very unfair to them to have to do that. You know they’ve had this business. They do things for the community and for people to just come in and put them through that is just wrong,” Janice McCormick, a longtime customer, told WZTV.

Music video director and former GOP congressional candidate Robby Starbuck leveled a blistering rebuke of the woman and her “narcissistic lawsuit.”

“Some great people have moved to TN in recent years. You are not one of them. You left CA but what made CA fail LIVES IN YOU. It’s an ideology and we don’t want it here in TN,” Stabuck wrote in a post on X.

“Go home. California is where you belong,” he continued. “We will protect TN like an anti-parasitic to guard against the destruction voters like you wrought upon states like California, New York and Illinois. Tennesseans will not let TN turn into CA. That’s a promise.”

Well said, Robby. Enough with these asswipes and their loudmouth presumptuousness, their arrogance, and their tiresome sanctimony. Don’t like living next door to a butcher shop? Go the fuck back home, then. Don’t let the door hit ya where the good Lord etc. Don’t waste a moment of your precious time fretting about whether your former neighbors will miss you, either. Back to Brown for the coup de grâce.

What is Natalie doing in Tennessee? Well, the policies and people she voted for and championed have turned her state into an over-priced sewer lagoon. Crime is everywhere, and one cannot walk down the street without tripping over human feces or drugged-out humans. 

Nothing is priced within reach, and even fast-food joints are closing up shop. You can’t get a taco, cheeseburger, can of creamed corn, or a box of drywall screws in California without getting overcharged, overtaxed, and possibly putting your life in danger. To steal a quote from Barack Obama, people like her DID build that. Just because these approaches to government and life did not work in California, they have to work in Tennessee, right?

Wrong. New York, Illinois, Oregon, Washington, and California have become smoking craters on the map of America. If those policies had worked, Natalie would still be in California.

Lincoln says he doesn’t hate ‘em, but as was affirmed in some detail the other night, I suffer from no such compunction myself. Their works; their putrid ideology; their insufferable smugness; their interests, obsessions, and “concerns”; the damage and destruction they so wantonly wreak upon absolutely everything they come in contact with; their music, their art, their warped, demented “culture”; the “people” themselves—I hate ALL of it, every single last aspect and incarnation, including the fucking horse they rode in on, and am not the least bit reticent about saying so. May every man Jack of them burn in Hell for a thousand millennia for all me.

As somebody or other once said:

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Flattery

Personally, I rather like having them think of me as a threat. I much prefer that to being regarded by them as basically harmless; any day I don’t annoy, inconvenience, or alarm such as they is a day misspent as far as I’m concerned.

Rural America Is a Threat to the Totalitarian Left
Last week Newt Gingrich tried to remind Americans how serious the threat of nuclear conflict remains. In a sober essay, he warned that the United States is not prepared to withstand nuclear or electromagnetic pulse attacks and urged Americans to prepare for unthinkable possibilities. Then a few days later, I woke up to read that “white rural rage” is the greatest “threat to democracy” and thought, “Well, at least we don’t have to worry about nuclear Armageddon now.” Such is the sorry state of the “woke” West that the “thinking class” moronically obsesses over trivialities, while ignoring everything that is disastrous.

This somewhat regurgitated “white rural rage” thesis comes from a “journalist” and an “academic” who have written a book explaining why white, patriotic Americans who just want to live their lives free from government interference are actually responsible for everything wrong in the country. Just when I think my white-hot contempt for closed-minded toffs couldn’t burn more brightly, a couple nitwits ratchet up my “rage” to eleventy. Dang, they got me. Turns out that if you scapegoat rural Americans long enough, some will get angry. Uff da.

The real fear of the “white rural rage” Chicken Littles is not that rural Americans are a threat to “democracy” but rather that they provide an immovable bulwark against the Deep State’s “master plan” for a totalitarian super-State. All over the West, politicians and pundits continue to extol authoritarianism as “democratic” and denigrate self-government as “populist.” It’s absurdly Orwellian, of course, but since we live in the age of censorship, propaganda, and linguistic chicanery, these word games will continue. Somewhere in the pits of Hell, Stalin, Hitler, Mussolini, and Mao are eager to remind Klaus Schwab and all the other Western globalists how “democratic” their “rules-based international orders” are, too.

The globalist authoritarians have instructed the commoners to stop eating meat. Rural Americans have said, “Nah, we’re good. We like steak.” The “new world order” folks have insisted that a great deal of speech must be censored in order to protect fragile adults from experiencing outbreaks of unapproved “hate.” Rural Americans have responded, “Suck it up, Buttercup. Maybe try listening to an opposing point of view sometime. It might just vaccinate you from the plague of groupthink.” The globo-Marxists have demanded that consumers hand over their keys to any car with an internal combustion engine. Rural Americans have laughingly replied, “Not only are we keeping every truck and tractor from the last century in a barn out back but also we can’t wait to buy some new all-terrain vehicles to ride through the backcountry.” Officials who betray their oaths to the Constitution have told law-abiding Americans that they have no right to own a gun. Rural Americans have calmly loaded their weapons in preparation for self-defense and whispered back, “Come and take it.” In disposition and beliefs, rural Americans are the natural “Minutemen” guarding American liberty.

Ultimately, attacks against rural Americans — like the left’s attacks against Christians — are a wretched form of bigotry designed to spread the insidious idea that people who live outside city limits are subhuman. Because rural America is filled with resilient people who adamantly defend the U.S. Constitution and Bill of Rights, it represents an antidote to the cancerous form of Marxist globalism killing cities across the country. Because rural America is filled with faithful people who are obedient to God’s will — and not D.C.’s — it remains a natural refuge for those immune from institutional brainwashing. Because rural America is blessed with an abundance of self-sufficient families, hard workers, and freethinkers, it provides a welcoming home for human liberty. For these reasons, aspiring totalitarians must destroy rural America if they are to have any chance at erecting a new system founded on censorship, surveillance, oppression, and tyranny. The problem for the Deep State is that rural Americans know what to do when the SHTF and, in fact, have been preparing all their lives.

Be afraid, shitlibs, be VERY afraid. As ferociously, as desperately as you hate us, our hatred for you still outstrips it, by orders of magnitude. Despise us for our religious devotion; our stable, loving families; our safe, pleasant, orderly communities; our self-restraint and moderation; our rugged individualism and independence; our reverence for the code of ideals, traditions, and philosophy bequeathed to us by America’s Founders, whom we also reverence; despise us for all these and much, much more—I assure you, your contempt is of no consequence whatsoever to us.

Little as we care about what your opinion of us and our way of life might be, a friendly word of advice: LEAVE US THE HELL ALONE; STAY WELL CLEAR OF US AND OUR SMALL TOWNS, RURAL AREAS, FAMILY FARMS, AND HOMESTEADS. You do NOT belong here, are NOT welcome here; we do NOT want you anywhere near us. We are entirely agreeable to leaving you alone in your crumbling, crime-ridden urban hellscapes, your gated residential enclaves, your expensive, exclusive vacation resorts, so long as you consent to leave US alone to conduct our own lives as we see fit.

That said, we do NOT want our children exposed to your sickness; your depravity; your diseased, anarchic monoculture; your total lack of rectitude; your amoral self-indulgence; your childish, pouty intemperance—in sum, your heedless, unthinking rejection of absolutely everything that, for us, makes life truly worth living.

Go your own way, then, and do us the courtesy of letting us go ours in turn.

And there you have it, that’s it: one hundred percent fair, honest, and above-board; simplicity itself, nothing onerous, oppressive, or obscure. This is what’s on offer; call it a fresh, new Social Contract between our two disparate and wholly incompatible nations, perhaps. Respect the provisions and obligations therein, and all will be copacetic between us. Fuck Around and traduce the contract, however, and you will most certainly Find Out—to your deepest dismay, boundless sorrow, and everlasting regret.

That’s the deal, like it or lump it. Get cracking on your answer straightaway, no shilly-shallying, waffling, or mucking about either necessary or tolerated. There’s a clock ticking here, and we ain’t gonna wait around forever. Not after all these years of putting up with your shit, we ain’t.

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A Wokester military

Is a Weakster military.


Stephen puts the (GI) boot in.

Raichik added, “There’s so much more where this came from,” and I don’t doubt it.

There is only one reason to teach soldiers that the country they’re supposed to be willing to fight and die to protect is irredeemable.

The U.S. military has had its ups and downs, but since ending the draft half a century ago, it has been the most expertly trained and exquisitely armed force the world has ever seen. Even during the draft years immediately before World War II to the end of Vietnam, we paid for and usually got the best weapons and training the country could afford.

And unlike those militaries in all those shi*hole countries, our forces were apolitical. They didn’t serve a president or a party, but the country.

In the last several years, wokeness has come to infect our military just as it previously had our universities, news outlets, and the entertainment industry.

Our readiness now is about what you’d expect: “U.S. military is only ‘marginally’ prepared to defend America’s interests at a time when adversaries are ramping up military capabilities.”

I’ve begun thinking of our postmodern military not as a useless Woke Force but as a Third World military: a force that isn’t any good at fighting foreign wars but is perfectly suited for putting down domestic undesirables.

Do I exaggerate? In 2021, Woke Army Sgt. Cindy Bronson had a message for her fellow Americans in case martial law is declared: “Understand that if active duty military actually get deployed within the United States, that weapon is not just going to be pointed at other people, other countries, it’s pointed at you.”

“If you do not get in your house when I tell you to,” Bronson warned, “you become the enemy. Martial law. You know, when your rights get curtailed?”

Roger that, Bronson.

Yep. Duly noted, SGT Cupcake; anytime you’re feeling froggy enough, do feel free to jump. One more time, I’ll just let Canuck punk rockers DOA say it for me.

Update! Steyn gives us the lowdown on the hoedown.

The decadence and unseriousness revealed by (self-styled “transgender” Manwoman) Lieutenant-Colonel Dram ought to be deeply disturbing. The planet’s most lavishly funded fighting force took twenty years to lose to goatherds with fertiliser, and on the way out the door gifted them with enough hardware to make them the world’s eighth or ninth most powerful military. That should surely occasion a certain circumspection. Instead, the Pentagon doubled-down on the wokery and the wankery – and, after a twenty-minute tea-break, started up the usual racket all over again, this time in Ukraine.

How’s that working out for the Ukrainians? Unlike Afghanistan, it’s a demographic wasteland. In 2001, the census counted 48.5 million people in the country. A year ago, it was headed down toward half that – just 29 million. Lindsey Graham and Boris Johnson may be standing shoulder to shoulder with the Ukrainian people, but even they must have noticed there are fewer and fewer Ukrainian shoulders to stand around with, at least if you go to Kiev rather than Poland or Hungary, Germany or Ireland. On the present rate of population decline, after the war there will be insufficient Ukrainians left to rebuild the economy – or, indeed, maintain basic demographic viability. Right now, thanks to Washington, Ukraine is flush with cash and weapons, but all out of fighting-age men.

Well, that’s what happens when you have the honour to be made the site of the Pentagon’s next Designated Fiasco. And yet back at home, thanks to the likes of Lieutenant-Colonel Dram and without benefit of Russian invasion, the US military is trending in the same direction:

Critical Staffing Shortage Prompts Air Force to Recruit Retirees

As goes the Air Force, so goes the Army and the Navy. Apparently, out in Flyoverland, there are few takers for a woke military that enriches generals-turned-lobbyists while you get blown up by Ahmed the “translator”. “Walk a mile in my heels” doesn’t really work when you’ve lost a leg in Helmand.

We are in the end-stage of a bad soap opera, when characters and plot have jumped the tracks, and there is no Bobby Ewing waiting in the shower. Three decades ago, it was pointed out that in the end Soviet Communism proved no more lasting than the span of one human lifetime: 1917-1991. Yet America’s blip of global dominance is looking just as fleeting: 1950-2020something – that last date being whenever the ever metastasizing brokeness causes total implosion. And, as things stand, the only thing the great republic (in Churchill’s affectionate designation) will be remembered for is that the entirety of western civilisation slid off the cliff on America’s watch. All the rest is details.

Pretty much, yeah. On the upside, though, when the fecal matter hits the rotary impeller for reals and the Great American Schism grinds ever on to the closing stages of its long, slow evolution from “Probably, someday, I think, very possibly” into “Current events, live and in color,” Amerika v2.0’s extravagantly broken Wokester military is going to find itself ensnared in yet another conflict it’s hopelessly incapable of coping with to tack onto its steadily-lengthening list of humiliating defeats.

O, irony

So caustic it burns.

‘You absolutely can’ identify as a cat: Soda-wielding Alabama student goes on insane rant about transgenderism: EXCLUSIVE VIDEO
A conservative University of Alabama student was drawn into a confrontation after a pro-trans student erased her chalk sign advertising a Riley Gaines event.

‘I’m going to go and uncover and f***ing destroy every piece of transphobic piece of garbage you put on the f***ing ground,’ the student said.

A pro-trans student recently defaced a display made by conservative students on the University of Alabama Campus. After pouring a ‘Dr. Pibb’ on the group’s event advertisement, the student engaged in debate, claiming that it is ‘absolutely’ possible to ‘identify as a cat.

Anybody else seeing the problem here? I’ll give ya a sec…

PROCESSING…PROCESSING…

Um, rilly now, MSRXXZZ Manwoman? DR PIBB?!? “Dr” is an antiquated, elitist term of the patriarchy, which no self-respecting Forward Thinker should ever deploy without first pre-emptively apologizing for hsxxzzz/hrxxzzz/itxxzzz microaggressive act of Literal Genocide© against Otherkins. Not unless they’re Saint Dr Jill/Joan of Biden, at least.

What exactly do you mean by purchasing/consuming this self-evidently transphobic, non-Progressive, revanchist, pronoun-denying, hypercapitalist, probably non-vegan fizzy-sugar-water product with the cis-het dollars your Mommylad and/or Daddygirl spend to keep and support you in Krayzee Kollege, anyway? It’s unhealthy, unsustainable, and full of deadly, GAIA-raping CO2 (the Silent Killer!), didn’t you know that? DON’T YOU CARE?!?

Bitch.

(Via Insty)

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Another day…

…another deranged “transgender” Manwoman© shooting up the place.

Here’s Everything We Know About the Megachurch Shooter
The now-deceased gunman who opened fire inside a famous Texas megachurch run by Joel Osteen Sunday afternoon has been identified as an identity-switching Hispanic woman with pro-Palestine, antisemitic beliefs.

36-year-old Genesse Ivonne Moreno, a biological female who used multiple male aliases, was wearing a trench coat when she entered the Houston-based Lakewood Church with two rifles, a backpack, and a young child by her side around 2 p.m. Sunday.

According to Commander Christopher Hassig of HPD’s homicide division during Monday’s press conference, the sticker simply stated “Palestine” on the long gun’s buttstock. In addition to the Anderson-manufacturing AR-15, which she used to carry out the church shooting, Moreno possessed a .22 caliber rifle by Blue Line Solutions on her person, but it was not fired at the time.

Authorities have also uncovered “antisemitic writings” in Moreno’s possession.

Hassig said police believe there was “a familiar dispute” that took place between her ex-husband and her ex-husband’s family. “Some of those individuals are Jewish. So, we believe that might possibly be where all of this stems from,” Hassig stated.

Dayumm, a possible self-gassing Jew for the Nutjob Trifecta too? I admit, I did NOT see that coming.

There were two victims injured: The seven-year-old boy, allegedly used as a human shield, was hit during the exchange of gunfire and taken to Texas Children’s Hospital in critical condition; a 57-year-old man, an innocent bystander, was shot in the leg.

The child caught in the crossfire suffered a gunshot to the head and remains hospitalized.

Moreno is the child’s biological mother. She’s posted “#momlife” and “#motherandson” content with pictures of a boy in her care.

In the past, Moreno assumed the altar-ego Jeffery Escalante as well as other male-presenting personas.

Moreno’s Facebook page—which expressed leftist, anti-police views—has since been scrubbed. Moreno’s since-deleted Instagram account featured posts of her cleaning an AR-15 and donating money to Lakewood Church. There, she uploaded a screenshot of the contribution’s confirmation. “[A]s for me and my household…I will honor and bless my church,” Moreno wrote on Instagram.

In the lead-up to the 2020 presidential election, Moreno supported socialist Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-VT). “I WANT HIM IN THE OFFICE AS THE US PRESIDENT,” she wrote in an Instagram post, uploading a photograph of Sanders on the campaign trail.

Arrest records show she was an El Salvadoran immigrant.

Jesus tapdancin’ Christ, is there any present-day socio/political/personal pathology this pluperfect looney-tooney doesn’t represent? Of course you know what this means, right? To wit: all normal, sane Real Americans who never shot anybody and never will must yield up their 2A rights immediately so something like this can never, ever happen again. Best-case scenario: the whole sad, sorry story will be alacritously hurled down the memory hole in 3…2…1…

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“We are entering the Soviet grain report phase of the Biden presidency”

Luke Thompson is Tweeting/Twatting/Exing/whatevering a whole series of posts along those lines in response to the Special Counsel report excusing Faux Jaux from prosecution for handling classified reports in a treasonous fashion because senile dementia, and they’re sidesplitting. Representative sample:

That last one brought forth the apposite blast-back:


What can one say but: Heh. Indeed. Ace notes:

Much like Ruth Bader Ginsberg, Biden is “running circles around people one-third of his age!!!!” And long may the Kween reign over her Court!!!

Oh, wait, I just got an update: Ruth Bader Ginsberg died a few months after that claim was made.

Ayup. And then we had the ludicrous own-goal/dumpster-fire that was Pedo Pete’s TeeWee disaster last night.

Biden’s Unannounced Nighttime Speech an Absolute DISASTER
President Joe Biden took to the microphone for an unannounced address on Thursday night, following the release of the politically devastating Special Counsel report that said he “willfully retained and disclosed classified materials after his vice presidency when he was a private citizen.” While the report stated that such actions “present serious risks to national security,” Biden will not face charges because he presents himself as an “elderly man with a poor memory” and it would be difficult to convince a jury he is guilty of a serious felony because to commit such a crime “requires a mental state of willfulness.” The report elaborated by pointing out he couldn’t even remember when he was vice president and didn’t even remember when his son Beau died.

The address was scheduled for 7:45 p.m. but did not actually get underway until around 8 — well past his usual 7 p.m. bedtime.

I can’t explain how or why Biden’s handlers felt it was a good idea to trot him out at night to talk about the special counsel report, but it did not go well. He was belligerent and defensive, and it was a terrible look. When he addressed the report claiming that he couldn’t remember when his son died, it really got bad.

 “How in the hell dare he raise that,” Biden said angrily, concluding that it is “none of their damn business.”

“For any extraneous commentary, they don’t know what they’re talking about,” Biden insisted, even though the report presented direct quotes. “It has no place in this report.”

Biden also blamed his staff for storing classified documents in his home, office, and garage, insisting, “I take responsibility for not having seen exactly what my staff would do!”

And after the viewing of the body was over, the somewhat-reanimated corpus delicti was wheeled away and stuffed back into its sarcophagus for the night. Taken for all in all, I think it safe to say that Jaux’s handlers have decided that, one way or another, he will indeed NOT be “running” for “pResident” again after all and instead will be graciously stepping aside for Big Mike, Gruesome Newsome, or whoever the next choice of Shadow State marionette turns out to be.

Update! Apparently, it ain’t gonna be Kamala “Suckstart that career” Harris.


Jeez. Sounds like she might’ve gotten together with Granny “Boxwine” Pelosi for an early liquid lunch or something.

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Q & A

Q: Is there anyone on this entire planet more dishonest, more despicable, more just plain old loathsome than ***”pResident”*** Faux Jaux “Pedo Pete” Biden?

A: NO. No, there most certainly is NOT.

DISGUSTING: Joe Biden Calls Grieving Mother of Killed Soldier and Misleads About Beau Biden Again
Chalk this up as another story that dumbfounds me, with Joe Biden once again fibbing to a grieving military family about how his son, Beau Biden, died.

As RedState reported, three U.S. Army soldiers were killed in Jordan in late January after an Iranian-backed group attacked it with drones. The deceased have been identified as Sergeant William Rivers, Specialist Breona Moffett, and Specialist Kennedy Sanders. Good Morning America broadcast the call Biden made to the family of Specialist Sanders in which he proceeded to mislead them about his son’s death, something he’s done in numerous calls to Gold Star families.

How many times does this need to be explained to the president? It is tragic when anyone’s child dies, and that includes Beau Biden. With that said, there is no comparison between a parent losing a child in combat and having a child pass after a long battle with cancer. When a person goes to sleep one night thinking their child is fine and then wakes up the next morning to find out their child has been brutally killed, that does something different to a person. That is not the type of pain and suffering anyone should compare themselves to unless they’ve experienced it first-hand.

Joe Biden got to be at his son’s bedside. He was able to say his goodbyes and plan for what was coming, both emotionally and practically. The parents of these killed soldiers will never have that opportunity. So no, Biden hasn’t “been there,” and no, Iraq was not how he lost his son. To this day, there’s no actual evidence that burn pits used during the conflict caused Beau Biden to develop cancer. There’s not even any evidence Beau Biden had any extensive exposure to them. He died of cancer half a decade after leaving the military.

Still, the president has repeatedly stated as fact that his son “died in Iraq” or some variant of the claim, making it sound as if he were killed in combat. It’s gross, and it long ago became stolen valor.

Bad as it is, this is still but one example from a long, long litany of Faux Jaux’s abominable crimes. Does it get even worse, though? Oh, just gimme a goddamned break, willya?


Note ye well, the three dead soldiers were killed only after 150+ similar attacks in the ME against US troops perpetrated by Iran, all of which went unanswered by our slowly-putrefying Commander In Thief. And remember, that’s just since Israel went after Hamas in Gaza post-10/7, mind. But now, Faux Jaux has the boldness, the narcissism, the unmitigated fucking gall to make this latest one all about his son Beau in the course of “comforting” the families of the dead? Bonchie closes his piece with a regrettably asinine statement:

I don’t know what needs to happen to get Biden to stop doing this, but his handlers need to get a hold of it. It’s not acceptable for the President of the United States (or anyone) to continually lie about something like this.

You may not know, Bonch, but I certainly do: Bribem will not stop “doing this” until he’s stumbled and staggered on off to join Hell’s Own Choir Invisible, not before. And even then, he’ll probably pester the lesser demons, fallen angels, and other permanent residents to utter distraction with his endless lies, self-serving misrepresentations, and tall tales. If Eff Joe Biden wasn’t already going there for all the other things he’s done over lo, these many years, the congenital lying would be enough to guarantee him a prominent position in Hell all by itself.

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Pseudo-intellectual self-beclownment

Oh for the love of…

The Thrill Of Word-Policing
Come, dear reader. Let us visit the publication now laughingly referred to as Scientific American. In particular, an “analysis” piece by Juan P Madrid, in which we’re told,

The language of astronomy is needlessly violent and inaccurate.

Dr Madrid, an assistant professor at the University of Texas Rio Grande Valley, begins his attempt to persuade with a tale of poetic drama:

This summer, a team of students and I were enjoying breathtaking views of the night sky while we collected data using telescopes at the McDonald Observatory in West Texas. One night, when we were outside on a telescope catwalk…one of my students amazed me with her interpretation of the fate of Andromeda, the galaxy closest to our Milky Way. In describing how these two galaxies will merge a few billion years from now, she said they will experience “a giant galactic hug.

I know. The very stuff of amazement. Brings a tear to the eye.

The kindness, but also the accuracy, of the language my student used was in sharp contrast to the standard description we use in astronomy to explain the final destiny of Andromeda and the Milky Way: “a collision.”

Apparently, the word collision is, for Dr Madrid, much too brutal and masculine when referring to the unstoppable convergence of two galaxies, and the subsequent merging of the supermassive black holes at their centres – an event that will entail the sling-shotting of countless stars and their orbiting planets, and which may release energy equivalent to around 100 million supernova explosions, and subsequently be detectable halfway across the universe.

A mere hug, you see. All that kindness.

A galactic hug is scientifically truthful, and it’s led me to believe that astronomers should reconsider the language we use.

Here, Dr Madrid’s own use of language – specifically, the word reconsider – is somewhat misleading and just a little coy. The reconsidering he has in mind would of course be enforced by those suitably enlightened, much like the author himself – as hinted at with enthusiasm later in the piece:

Referees, editors, and editorial boards can step up to…stop the use of violent, misogynistic language that is now pervasive.

So, not so much a reconsidering, then, as a coerced neuroticism. A mandatory affectation, on which career progress may very much depend. But hey, where’s the fun in being a pretentious and neurotic scold if you don’t have the power to make others jump through hoops?

Jeez-O-PETE, but what a fucking loony-toony-maroony. Improbable as it may seem, these self-styled SooperDooperGenii© never cease to amaze: forever coming up with new ways of bringing saner, more sensible sorts to a dead screeching halt, scratching their heads in awed stupefaction at yet another wondrous exhibition of rampant, pointless imbecility. No matter how extreme, how over-the-top SPECTACULAR the previous ludicrous record-setter was, they nevertheless contrive to raise the bar of Teh Schtoopid with each successive outing. It’s damned nigh miraculous, really.

And to think: within about a week, no more, another Halfwit Hall O’ Fame hopeful will come staggering along to make this week’s tromping of one’s own dick nonpareil look like weak beer in comparison.

Dr Madrid being an astronomer and college prof and all, you’d think a well-above-average level of intelligence would surely have been required just to land the job at all, much less keep it for more than, say, three or four hours. And yet.

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Every nook, every cranny, every corner

For Leftwits, “racism” is everywhere. And I do mean EVERYWHERE.

Think you’ve heard it all concerning Critical Race Theory? Take a seat.

If you thought Marxist-derived CRT was only related to the behavior, attitudes, and actions of white people against people of color, you were sorely mistaken. Turns out, the interiors of the homes of white people are likely “racist” as well. The solution? “Decolonization” of interior spaces. No, really.

Here’s architecture author Aaron Betsky, who’s written more than 20 books on the subject and believes architecture should be taught through the lens of CRT:

We cannot turn away from the fact that many of the structures we hold up as examples, like Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello, were instruments of oppression, rape, and forced labor, and that even what we think of as neutral models, in whatever style, were…built [as] affirmation of wealth built on violence.

What we also must recognize is that the forms we think of as ‘good’ architecture, from the layout of our houses and offices to the white columns that festoon classical buildings, cement the culture of whiteness, based on European models, in stone, concrete, wood, glass, and steel.

Lunacy? Of course. But when has lunacy stopped the left — from getting even loonier?

According to interior designer Jacquelyn Ogorchukwu Iyamah, people can creatively resist “structures of domination in their homes by challenging themselves to think about the various ways that politics are embedded into the built environment and encouraging more ‘racial wellness’ within the spaces they create” — particularly concerning the objects they display.

Iyamah also warns that people of color shouldn’t emulate white people in the interior design of their homes.

The Use of the Color White
You knew we’d get around to this, right?

In addition to the unforgivable sin of decorating a home with “racist objects” like “mammy jars, colonial busts, war memorabilia, and Confederate flags,” Iyamah argues that the use of white paint is just as “racist.”

The use of the color white has been weaponized to symbolize purity…There’s [sic] a lot of ways that this theory can deconstruct conservative values that really align with whiteness.

So there you have it. Before you buy that next can of white paint to, say, repaint your kitchen, remember: the color white has been “weaponized to symbolize purity.”

Tell ya what, Teqweelah: I’ll paint my place any color I like, decorate it however the fuck I want, and will thank you to keep the fuck out of it. Opinions from you and your ilk regarding my personal taste in home decor and color scheme will be neither sought nor welcome—nor, for that matter, tolerated. Far as I’m concerned, you can jam your pathological obsession with finding “racism” under every least pebble you trip over so far the fuck up your stupid ass you get a sore throat, you wretched fucking degenerate.

Cliff’s Notes version: If I want any shit from you, I’ll squeeze your fucking head. 

God, how truly awful life must be for these pathetic fools, spending every minute of every day writhing under the microscope of their “the political is personal” creed: injecting Progressivist politics into every aspect of their stunted lives; intent on seeing to it that more well-adjusted, normal people will share their self-inflicted misery. If they weren’t such total assholes, you’d have to feel sorry for them.

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Walk gently on Mother Earth

CHRIST, what a muttonhead.

Should I Stop Flying? It’s a Difficult Decision to Make.

Yes. Yes, you absolutely should, immediately. Every minute you dither makes Mother Gaia cry, you know.

Four years ago, during a Zoom work meeting, a colleague who lives in London told me she’d decided to quit flying on airplanes. She simply couldn’t stomach the cost to the climate. Due to her decision, she said calmly, she would probably never visit the U.S. again. My heart skipped a beat.

Her choice seemed so extreme. She shared it with me casually in the context of conversation, without a trace of judgment or moralizing. Still, I felt shocked and inexplicably a little defensive—but also intrigued. At the time, I traveled by air as often as ten times a year for my work as a journalist and to see family members strewn about the country. I couldn’t imagine my life without flying.

But my colleague’s comment lodged in my mind as a beautiful and challenging seed. Over the next few years, it cracked through the concrete of what had been, until then, a completely unexamined belief in my inviolable entitlement to flying. When the pandemic arrived, grounding travelers and shrinking international air travel by 60 percent in 2020, I began to see that significantly reducing air travel—or even giving it up altogether—was absolutely possible.

Rare individuals have chosen not to fly for ethical reasons for decades, but in the years leading up to the pandemic, the smattering of outliers coalesced into a movement. It took root most quickly and deeply in Sweden, which in 2017 became the first country in the world to establish a legally binding carbon-neutrality target—a year before Greta Thunberg began protesting in front of its parliament. In Swedish, the movement became known as flygskam, which translates to “flight shame,” a term commonly attributed to Swedish singer Staffan Lingberg, who gave up flying in 2017.

The number of people pledging to stop flying grew so much that Swedish air travel declined 5 percent between 2018 and 2019, and the movement strengthened in other parts of Europe as well. In the U.S., the flight-free movement, in the form of groups like Flight Free USA and No Fly Climate Sci, has been slower to spread but is growing. This year, Flight Free USA, for example, is on track to see the largest number of pledges to stop or minimize flying at 436. By comparison, tens of thousands have pledged in Europe over the past four years.

Well, an admiring pat on the head for all those Neo-Luddite lackwits, then. But y’all should by no means stop there. Ditch your cars, your houses, your modern appliances, any clothing you didn’t sew with your own two pwecious widdle hands. Throw out your computer, your tablet, and your sail foam, all of which are made of plastic derived from *gasp!!!* fossil fuels. No more mass transit, either, most of which consists of either gas or diesel-engined buses or electric trains and/or subways which rely on a mostly coal-burning power grid.

Squatting in your dark, freezing-cold cave to cook over an open fire? Perish FORBID! When I think of the miasma of planet-killing pollutants spewed into our fragile atmosphere by such unnecessary indulgences, I can but weep. Small-scale agriculture? Non: cow farts, plus plants have feewings too, you know. Composting? Nein: that is just soooo 2010; you should be scooping, bagging, and eating your own poo like more enlightened pyrsynz are doing. Travel/commuting by horseback? Nyet, nyet, NYET: animal cruelty, you heartless, soulless monster, amongst a whole slew of other objections.

Criminy, but these navel-gazing, sanctimonious handwringers really make my hair hurt sometimes.

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Citadel of shite

Clogged to overflowing with the very worst sort of bipedal turds.

As you may recall, on January 6th 2021, I was on air with Tucker as the alleged “storming of the Capitol” was drawing to a close. It was not yet over, but the media had already agreed the Official Narrative – that it was a shameful violation of the most hallowed precincts of “the Citadel of Democracy”. I got sick of that shtick almost instantly:

Mark Steyn rips media’s ‘citadel of democracy’ framing of Capitol: ‘It’s a citadel of crap’

Ah, but I was wrong. It turns out it’s a Citadel of Shags. Headline from The Daily Caller:

EXCLUSIVE: Senate Staffer Caught Filming Gay Sex Tape In Senate Hearing Room

Er, don’t hit the link unless you enjoy that sort of thing. If you think “Filming Gay Sex Tape” is just the usual teasing click-bait for a bit of lame-o soft-focus light-petting, not at all. It’s definitely Not Safe For Work, although evidently it’s safe for government work, as the Senate staffer in question had no qualms about uploading it to the Internet. The setting is the table of the Hearing Room of the Senate Judiciary Committee. That would be the room where Brett Kavanaugh was grilled, and FBI straight-shooter James Comey testified at length and with an impressively straight face about the “Russia investigation”. I have also testified at the US Senate, but can’t remember if it was that room or another. Still, if I’m ever asked back, I’ll remember to bring a couple of moist towelettes to wipe down the furniture.

So, if I understand the social norms of the People’s House, it’s completely unacceptable (and, indeed, a crime) to wander its precincts goofily with a MAGA hat and an American flag; but, if you stop for ten minutes to have anal sex before the Supreme Court nominee hearing re-convenes, that’s perfectly fine – so fine it might be worth entering it in mitigation and getting a couple of years knocked off your sentence. You will get a serious prison term if you put your feet on Nancy Pelosi’s desk, but not if you climb on, get down on hands and knees, and um…

Useful to know.

The staffer in question, an aide to Maryland Democrat Ben Cardin, one Aidan Maese-Czeropski, responded indignantly on LinkedIn:

This has been a difficult time for me, as I have been attacked for who I love…

In fairness, he was mostly attacked not “for who I love” but for where he loves him. Nevertheless, I assumed that this defence would prove effective – and that no Washington bigshot would dare to pink-slip a gay guy for getting caught being gay. Besides, in the broader sense, in a decadent pseudo-republic with no equality before the law, it seems entirely natural that some citizens rot in gaol merely for passing half-an-hour ambling aimlessly around the People’s House—and other, more favoured citizens can with impunity roger like billy-ho on the very People’s Table that determines the composition of the highest court in the land. The symbolism is too perfect.

Ain’t it, though. Ain’t it just. It’s Steyn, so you know what you must do, Glasshoppa.

PC über alles

Oh, this is bound to end well.

The country currently is in the throes of an epidemic of mass insanity and irrationality. The manifestations of the disorder are too numerous to cite, but the explosion of the DEI plague being pushed by the government, many businesses, and the intellectual pigmies in most of the media, must be included in any list of the most egregious. As currently advocated and practiced by our leftist “elites,”1 it is incompatible with rationality, common sense, and morality, among other things, and, as the Wall Street Journal, not to mention the Supreme Court, have pointed out, the U.S. Constitution.

There is a brand of this particular wokeness that is relatively unknown to the general public, but that is particularly irrational and dangerous. It is the Federal Aviation Administration’s relatively young DEI mandates. These Biden/Buttigieg DEI commands now apply to the employment of FAA air traffic controllers in an insidious way, a way that threatens the safety of our skies and of anyone who flies.

The FAA has eagerly embraced the extreme DEI strategies that are now oh-so-popular in “progressive” leftist and socialist circles. On its webpage, the FAA clearly sets out how it will discriminate against the wicked white males. As this article will show below, it does so by seeking to employ people who are clearly less qualified than the general applicant pool. Less qualified, that is, unless you believe that the average applicant suffers from, for example, a “severe intellectual disability.”

The FAA makes clear the tribes that it includes in the Diversity Nation: It touts that it specifically “targets” for “special emphasis,” in both recruiting and hiring, people with disabilities in “hearing, vision, missing extremities, partial paralysis, complete paralysis, epilepsy, severe intellectual disability, psychiatric disability and dwarfism.”

Wait. It gets worse. Such disabled applicants get even more special treatment because they are eligible for preferential hiring. The FAA calls this “On-the-Spot hiring.” That is exactly what it sounds like – the FAA admits that it is a “non-competitive hiring method.” They are eligible for this non-competitive hiring even if their intellectual or psychiatric disability is “severe.”

The FAA does not attempt to hide its present and future discrimination. It pronounces, “Diversity is integral to achieving FAA’s mission of ensuring safe and efficient travel across our nation and beyond.”

It is no such thing. In truth, forced “diversity” conflicts with said mission, directly and flatly contradicts it, impedes it, ensures that it can only result in total, abject failure.

And its justification?

The mission of the FAA involves securing the skies of a diverse nation. It only makes sense that the workforce responsible for that mission reflects the nation that it serves.”

But nowhere does the FAA explain how hiring ATCs with, for example, “severe intellectual or psychiatric disabilities” will enhance its mission of securing the skies, preventing catastrophes, and safeguarding the lives of pilots, passengers and others.

No, it most certainly does NOT make any sense at ALL. “Reflects the nation it serves”? What muttonheaded folderol. ATCs, among many others employed in similarly essential and demanding fields, must be no less than EXCEPTIONAL—orders of magnitude above the normal run, and just never you mind about what the goobermint falsely insists “the nation it serves” wants or needs. The ATC’s job requires extraordinary intelligence; intensive training and re-training; constant focus and close attention to detail; unflagging ability to remain cool, calm, and collected under extreme pressure; tireless physical endurance; adequate flexibility and mental agility to cope with sudden unanticipated problems; and/or distraction due to severe fatigue and unrelenting, constant stress, both of which are integral, baked-in-the-cake aspects of the job.

In October’s Halloween post I mentioned my friend David’s dad, Charles Black, who served several terms as mayor of Mount Holly. As it happens, Mr Black was an ATC at the old Charlotte-Douglas Airport for twenty-some-odd years until he retired and eventually decided to run for mayor. He patiently but cheerfully regaled us bothersome neighborhood young ‘uns who were curious enough to ask with tales of his worthy occupation again and again, interleavened with stories of his experiences from late 1944 through to the end of the war flying B-17s in the ETO.

The thing I most remember Charlie Black emphasizing in those conversations what amounted to an ironclad law of Air Traffic Control, a risk that just came along with the job: should the ATC ever fail to live up to those rigorous standards during a control-tower shift—even once, even momentarily—people would die. In job lots, usually. MANY people. Period. Fucking. DOT.

So yeah, let’s just do away with niggling irrelevancies such as being qualified, competent, and physically, mentally, and emotionally equipped to handle this supremely demanding job, so’s we don’t harm anybody’s self-esteem. Instead, let’s place many tens of thousands of lives every single day entirely into the hands of:

  • Droolcases
  • 65-IQ mouthbreathers
  • Retards
  • The deranged and/or pathologically unbalanced
  • Illiterates
  • The blind, deaf, halt, and/or lame
  • Miscellaneous other subnormals

I assume irredeemable drunks, heroin/meth/PCP spike-jockeys, welfare layabouts, habitual felons, and the stubbornly-recidivist homeless are also included on the FAA’s most-desired-hires list, although I didn’t bother to verify it. All in the name of making the Differently Abled© feel better about themselves. Which, mind you, has NOTHING WHATSOEVER to do with “securing the skies, preventing catastrophes, and safeguarding the lives of pilots, passengers et al.” Thus do “liberal” imbeciles grant themselves another opportunity for smug self-congratulation celebrating their manifestly-superior empathy, righteousness, compassion, and pragmatic-problem-solver skills, and straight to hell with those uncaring troglodytes stuck with living in Earthly reality.

One can only sit back, stunned, and marvel at the absurd impracticality, the fathomless arrogance-in-ignorance, the illimitable self-regard of these gormless morons. Sit back and marvel, that is, while we wait for the big jetliners to start colliding and dropping onto houses, highways, and urban areas, creating fiery maelstroms of needless carnage and destruction nationwide as the resultant body-count soars to previously unimaginable heights. As bright ideas go, prioritizing political correctness in blinkered contravention of observable real-world strictures to such an insane extent as they’ve done here has to set an all-time record for the Reality-Based Community of some kind or other.

Free investment counseling: The canny market speculator will invest every free penny he can, immediately, in graveyard acreage, casket and headstone manufacturers, funeral homes, and related mortuary services. Once the changes in FAA hiring policy take effect it’s a can’t-lose investment strategy, sure to yield tremendous returns for brokers, their clients, and day-traders who are astute enough to boldly seize this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Yeah, great plan there, shitlibs. I’m confident giving complex, intellectually-challenging, technically-advanced positions to random feebs who can’t possibly do them will work out just fine for all involved parties, whether on the ground or high above it. Not that I was likely to anyway at this late date, but this preposterous, dangerous move puts the (dunce) cap on it once and for all: much as I’ve always enjoyed flying, I would rather gargle diarrhea than ever board a commercial aircraft again. In my future travels, if any, I’ll either walk, hitch-hike, or just spit on my ass and slide.

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