GIVE TIL IT HURTS!

When men were men, and sheep were scared

Bayou Peter kicks things off thusly:

As part of my research for a forthcoming book, I’ve been reading up about the history of dueling in New Orleans during the 18th and 19th centuries. I came across this very unusual account.

“Unusual,” he says. “Unusual,” forsooth! Just get a load of this, it leaves “unusual” in the dust.

M. Augustin … who afterward became a district judge and general of the Louisiana Legion, was the victor in several … encounters in which the temper of the period caused him to be engaged. One in particular is noteworthy on account of the part it played in an extraordinary freak of fortune. Alexander Grailhe was the offending party, though the insult (or rather provocation, for gentlemen seldom insulted) would in this day be of scant concern. But some cause of action was present, and each was sure that a deadly meeting would certainly follow. They rode together in a carriage with ladies, who, after the duel, commented on their mutual affability during the entire trip, which only serves to show how delicately adjusted was the code of etiquette—especially in the presence of ladies.

They fought at The Oaks, and as soon as the weapons had been crossed and the impressive “Allez, Messieurs,” pronounced, Grailhe, who was high-strung and hot-blooded—doubly so under the stress of what he regarded as a grievous provocation—lost his temper and furiously charged his antagonist. Augustin, on the contrary, was cool, collected, and agile, parrying each savage thrust, until by a temps d’arrêt (sudden pause), judiciously interpolated into a vicious lunge of Grailhe’s, he pierced him through the chest. Grailhe, with one of his lungs perforated, remained for a long time hovering between life and death, and when at last he did come out of his room, he was bowed like an octogenarian.

It was now only a question of time for the wounded man, as an internal abscess had formed where it could not be reached, —surgery then was not what it is now,— and the doctors despaired of saving him. Some time after he had been up and about, a quarrel with Col. Mandeville de Marigny resulted in his challenging that distinguished citizen. This duel was also fought at The Oaks, but as Grailhe was too weak to do himself justice with a sword, the weapons chosen were pistols at fifteen paces, each to have two shots, advance five paces, and fire at will. At the first shot, fired simultaneously, the unfortunate man fell forward, pierced by his adversary’s bullet, which had entered the exact place of his former and yet unhealed wound. Marigny, with pistol in hand and as placid as a marble statue, advanced to the utmost limit marked out, when Grailhe, who was suffering greatly, exclaimed: “Fire again; you have another shot.”

With grave dignity Marigny raised his pistol above his head and fired into the air, saying with frigid politeness: “I never strike a fallen foe.”

More dead than alive, the stricken duelist was carried home by his friends and consigned to the care of his physician; but instead of sinking rapidly, as was expected, he really began to mend, and by the following morning was much improved. The ball had penetrated to the abscess which had threatened his life, and made an exit for its poisonous accumulations. Some time afterward he walked out of his room as erect as ever, and soon regained his health and stately bearing.

YOWZA! I don’t think even “bizarre” quite meets the case here—downright otherworldly, I’d call it.

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Bitch slap!

I’m nothing like as avid a fan of the Sweet Science as my brother Jeff is, and never claimed to be. Even so, I’ve been watching boxing since way back when Muhammed Ali was still Cassius Clay. So gimme a break here, I’m not a total dilettante. Be all that as it may, I found this story amusing as hell.

Mike Tyson slapped Jake Paul for stepping on his foot as their pre-fight weigh-in boiled over. 

Seemingly out of nowhere, Tyson smacked Paul in the face at the Las Colinas, Texas, event ahead of their Friday boxing match at AT&T Stadium.

Paul responded, “He hits like a bitch … He must die.”

Tyson claims to have not even heard him.

The smack was Tyson’s reaction to upstart Paul stepping on his toe, which he thinks may have been on purpose.

“I was in my socks and he had on shoes,” Tyson told The Post moments after the weigh-in. “He stepped on my toe because he is a f–king a–hole. I wanted to think it happened by accident. But now I think it may have happened on purpose.

On purpose? You bet your sweet bippy it was—seems like before most any heavyweight bout, there’s usually some hyped-up half-a-fracas or other along these lines at the weigh-in. Still: amusing. Video at the link, for those of you who are into this sort of thing.

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Forewarned is forearmed

Never accept food or drink from batshit-insane Leftard shrikes. I mean, not EVER. These days, that shit could get you killed.

Liberal Cat Ladies Reveal “Battle Plan” To Poison Trump Men With Aqua Tofana
Educated white liberal women appear to have lost their goddamn minds after the presidential election. Many have posted videos of uncontrollable emotional outbursts over a Trump victory…

… with some even threatening to adopt pro-life stances as a form of retaliation against men.

Others have made what appears to be terroristic threats, suggesting at the use of strong poison against men because they voted for the evil ‘Orange Man.’

Internet searches for Aqua Tofana—a potent poison created in Sicily around 1630 by a woman named Giulia Tofana, or Tofania, and historically used by women to free themselves from relationships by killing men—spiked shortly after the election results.

X user I Meme Therefore I Am noted, “HOLY SH*T, Karens lost their fvcking minds over Trump’s win and launched MATGA—short for Make Aqua Tofana Great Again.”

Please don’t make the mistake of placidly assuming they’d never actually go through with any such heinous thing; after the many infamias we’ve seen from them already, you oughta know better than that by now. WTH Kathy Frisby spells out the bottom line.


T’is indeed, no more nor less. Although the well-known Field Officers’ Iron Law of Battle Plans has been stood on its head here. In a first-ever strategic innovation, it’s the Enemy (a/k/a, US) that won’t survive initial contact, not the Plan. In fact, in what might well be the most bizarre twist of the entire bizarre, twisted mishegoss, that actually IS the Plan. Therefore, any gormless male presently sharing a domicile with one (1) or more of these demented Lizzie Borden wannabes is hereby advised to

  • Find yourself another place to live toot fucking sweet
  • AFTER THE FACT ADDENDUM: Find yourself a better girlfriend; what the actual fuck possessed you to get tangled up with a skank-ass Leftybitch in the first place, anyways? DUDE!
  • Meanwhile, as your search for more congenial, non-toxic living quarters gets underway, move into the spare room, garage, backyard storage shed, or your car for the duration; carefully ascertain that the door is locked and/or barred securely before you hit the hay every night
  • Regardless of your domestic arrangement, it is imperative that you always, always, always make sure she falls asleep FIRST, long before you do; PRACTICAL RESOLUTION: Until you hear her snoring, your eyes must remain OPEN
  • Contra what saner sorts might wish to believe, after her weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth over one (1) election defeat has finally subsided and the house suddenly goes dead quiet and calm (HA!), it’s still definitely NOT a good time to relax your vigilance, drop your guard, or shift your focus—not to any degree; as with lions, tigers, and wolverines in the wild, unhinged broads are most to be feared when you can’t hear them coming
  • Ever have what seemed at the time like a piddling little spat with your wife/GF/shackjob/significant other, only to have her fly into mortifying paroxysms of spittle-flecked rage and re-litigate the whole silly, childish dustup—straight out of the clear blue nowhere, word for spiteful word, in minutest detail, usually in a nice, quiet restaurant after your entrees have arrived—several years after you figured all had long since been forgiven and forgotten? Yeah, you need to spend a little time poring over the lesson contained therein, buddy-ro, until you fully grok it
  • Prepare your own meals, fetch your own drinks, open your own beers; NEVER leave your plate, glass, bottle, utensils, &c unattended, even momentarily
  • Same-same for bags of chips, cheese puffs, crackers, and/or cookies; bottles/cans of soda or juice; candy bars; cartons of milk, &c; if it’s been opened or unwrapped, if its tamper-proof safety seal has been breached, do NOT touch it, much less eat and/or drink it—leave it be no matter how hungry, thirsty, or just plain old bored you might feel just then; any packaged comestible, condiment, sauce, or seasoning you open should then be either finished off, carried around with you until you have, or thrown away; no more leftovers from last night’s supper pulled out of the fridge and re-heated, however much you may enjoy them; regard all such as literally poison, because they could easily be just that; teach yourself how to cook for one, it can be something of a pain, yes, but is by no means impossible; quitcherbitching and live with it—you’re the one who decided living under the same roof as a shitlib psycho murder-bitch was a dandy idea, so just deal with it, genius
  • Whenever you’re prepping, cooking, dining, or drinking at home, whether you’re alone or She’s nearby, continually check six; let your every action, movement, and behavior be conducted with the time-tested tenets of the Combat Pilot’s Survival Maxim foremost in mind: Head on a swivel; eyes always moving, scanning, sweeping; total SA (Situational Awareness)—many a fighter-jock owes his very life, literally, to those simple words of wisdom
  • What, you mean you haven’t moved out already? Thou fool!

You have been warned, fellas; heed or bleed, you pays your money and you takes your chances. These dames ain’t playing around, so you’d best not be either.

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The Opposite Rule

In full effect, as always.


For more on the Opposite Rule, please see Mike’s Iron Law #462.

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Ready or not, here they come

It’s a big club, and you ain’t in it.


And, apparently, geese and ducks in plenty to slaughter, dress, and eat publicly.


When they aren’t camping out on people’s front lawns and menacing them, that is.


The “Show more” link transcription, because it’s truly, truly infuriating.

Springfield, Ohio woman says homeless Haitians are trying to camp out on her front yard, says she “wants out of this town.”

“I have men that cannot speak English in my front yard, screaming at me, throwing mattresses in my front yard.”

“Look at me, I weigh 95 pounds. I couldn’t defend myself if I had to. My husband is elderly.”

“I don’t understand what you expect of us as citizens. I understand they’re here under temporary protected status and you’re protecting them, and I understand that our city services are overwhelmed and understaffed, but who’s protecting us?”

“Who’s protecting me? I want out of this town. I am sorry. Please give me a reason to stay.”

Whatever would you do, Springfieldians, without Stretch Pelosi’s “spark of divinity” types, eh?


And there you have it. Bottom line: I don’t care how you much you hate D卐M☭CRATs, people, I assure you you do NOT hate them enough.

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H8RRRZ

Feel the love, the “joy,” the compassion, the empathy. That weirdo JD Vance certainly does.


The only thing at all shocking about this is how entirely NOT shocking it is. Still think I’m in any way kidding around, hyperbolizing, or exaggerating for effect when I call them The Enemy and/or say “kill them ALL,” prithee tell?

Sure, I could chase my tail pointing out that the overwhelming majority of abortions are not the result of rape but of using abortion as an alternate, last-ditch form of birth control, but I refuse to waste my time shouting at brick walls.

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WEIRD!

Man, what a freak.

9 Shocking Things J.D. Vance Did In High School
As even more incriminating pictures of senator and vice presidential candidate J.D. Vance’s scandalous high school years surfaced in recent weeks, the nation was left wondering: who is this total freak from Ohio, and what other scurrilous mischief did he get up to in his youth?

  1. Illegally downloaded songs on Napster: A cyberthief at such a young age. Disturbing.
  2. Stuck pencils between his fingers and pretended to be Wolverine: It doesn’t get much weirder than this.
  3. Called Wendy’s and asked if their refrigerator was running: The restaurant’s employees from that night are still scarred to this day.
  4. Wrote “Seymour Butts” inside the jacket of his math textbook: What type of deranged person does this?
  5. Said “Not Here!” when the teacher said his name while taking roll: Liar then, liar now.
  6. Dared his friends to spell “ICUP”: No one actually saw anyone pee, J.D. Stop spreading lies.

Bizarre and off-putting as all those definitely are, #9 is the absolute weirdest of them all.

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Getting it straight

Regarding Herr Kommissar Starmer’s latest outrage.


I’m trying a little experiment on an end-run of my own devising around the annoying “Show more…” Twatter links. Let’s see how it goes. Inline update! Nope, didn’t work. Oh well, whatcha gonna do. No biggie, really; if Elon needs the extra clicks, I’m okay with not depriving him of ‘em.

As for Herr Starmer, Divemedic makes a crucial point.

The UK says that they will extradite and prosecute Americans for saying mean things on the Internet, which is a violation of UK law. It’s illegal to say mean things while engaging in political speech online.

You might scoff, but remember that it won’t be UK police coming to arrest you. It will be US cops coming to haul you away to be sent to the UK for doing something that is entirely legal to do here in the US.

Indeed. Thank goodness no US cop would ever arrest and/or extradite an America citizen to Britainistan for exercising his God-given, Constitutionally-protected right to free speech. What a relief!

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The Red Menace creeps ever on

Can it be possible that every D卐M☭CRAT truly is this stupid? Ahh, never mind, don’t bother answering that one.

Socialists make terrible neighbors
In today’s episode of “Democrats defend unadulterated evil,” vice presidential hopeful and Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz told liberals, “Don’t ever shy away from our progressive values. One person’s socialism is another person’s neighborliness.”

Going full socialist is a bizarre choice if Walz’s mission is to join the Harris ticket. Vice President Kamala Harris was the most liberal member of the U.S. Senate during her brief time in the upper house of Congress, despite the media’s attempts to memory-hole that fact. Mobilizing progressives is the least of the Harris team’s concerns, considering her anemic poll numbers across the Midwestern swing states. 

All that aside, let’s consider how neighborly socialism has historically been. Socialist and communist governments murdered an estimated 168,759,000 people from 1900-1987, by far the largest genocide in human history. The Marxists killed six times as many innocent people as the fascists and three times as many people as Genghis Khan’s Golden Horde. The Chinese communists murdered around 90 million people, and Joseph Stalin’s 43 million kills brought the USSR’s death toll to around 70 million, hardly neighborly. Ask a modern-day Ukrainian how it feels to be the neighbors of a post-socialist oligarchic state.

Walz, Harris, and even Marx-loving, Soviet Union-honeymooning Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-VT) are no Stalin or Chairman Mao, or at least our constitutional order has thus far successfully prevented them from becoming those dictators. But to pretend that their deranged and oppressive policies are neighborly is as nonsensical as it is malicious. 

I implore you not to make the deadly mistake of deceiving yourself for one instant that the aforementioned tyrant-aspirants, Red in tooth and claw, aren’t Stalin, Mao, Che, Pol Pot, Chavez, or Castro by their own choice, nor that they are in any way constrained by conscience, reason, humility, or basic human decency. Far from it; the one, the only reason the slavering monsters haven’t kicked Amerika v2.0’s Gulag Archipelagos, Death Camps, and/or Killing Fields into high gear already is that they haven’t glommed total and unchallenged power for themselves and their loathsome confreres as of yet. Fret ye not though, they’re beavering away at that most murderous of long-term projects even now—and unless/until they are stopped, they always will be.

“Neighborliness,” forsooth. It is to laugh, albeit grimly, bitterly.

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Holy SCHLITZ

I haven’t words.


The Donald Trump of Julius Caesars

As promised/threatened earlier: the fall of the Republic, then and now.

Observations During The Late Republic
For the first time in a long time, I have turned back to Roman history. It has been something like 2 decades since I read anything to do with Rome. But, recently, as part of my fitness and general “be strong, not fat” program (on which I shall write more, as well), I am listening to Mike Duncan’s “The History of Rome” podcast. Ironically, I reached Julius Caesar in the last stages of the First Triumvirate just as the Donald Trump “hush money” trial got really interesting.

In the late Roman Republic, Patricians, wealthy Plebians, and successful Generals were often prosecuted for crimes (real and imaginary) after they left office and no longer were protected by the office they held. They were prosecuted by their political enemies, as a general rule of thumb, in order to gain power, prevent the individual from gaining further power, and so forth.

One of the key reasons that Julius Caesar broke Roman law and led his Army across the Rubicon River and into Italy was that he knew that his political enemies were going to prosecute him for crimes they believed he had committed while Consul. Once his 10 year term of Pro-Consul of Cis-Alpine Gaul was complete, they would bring charges against him and then have him exiled or executed. He attempted to negotiate with the Senate for amnesty from prosecution in return for relinquishing command of his Legions, but the Senate refused and ordered him to relinquish command and return to Rome alone.

When Julius Caesar refused, he knew (and said) that the die was cast, meaning that he would have to fight a civil war now. And he led his legions into Italy, which ultimately ended the Republic.

If you think this isn’t what we see happening right now in America, you don’t understand that history and how it is repeating itself.

I think it safe to say that, in Amerika v2.0, there are a great many historical parallels that aren’t understood—or even known, for that matter—by a great many people. And should you try to explain it to them, they’ll either

  • Stuff their fingers into their ears and ignore you completely
  • Accuse you of the Hate Crime of Mansplaining, call the cops, and demand you be arrested, which the cops will assuredly do
  • Physically assault you for your intolerable defense of the hated Patriarchy
  • Call you a damned liar
  • Run away to the nearest officially-licensed Safe Space, having been Triggered by your Violent© act of oppression, bigotry, and Literal Genocide

Those, among other unpleasant possibilities.

The three R’s

The last of which being the most important in these most perilous times.

The Three Rs: Read the Writing on the wall – and do the ‘Rithmetic. Like I said, it’s not difficult – although it seems to be for some of the willing dupes who brought us the western world’s new reality. Here is (Wokester chowderhead and self-gassing Jew Anthony Housefather—M) the Liberal Member of Parliament for Mount Royal, and Parliamentary Secretary to the President of the Treasury Board in Mr Trudeau’s ministry, attempting to reconcile the scenes on the street with the policies he has supported:

I call on the @mcgillu administration to act. Final exams are coming up and all students need to feel safe on campus.

Good luck with that. As Sheila Gunn Reid points out, Anthony Housefather belongs to a government that was happy to invoke war measures when Canadian truckers arrived in Ottawa and to freeze the bank accounts of any citizen who donated fifty bucks to the cause. The foot-soldiers of the new intifada need fear no such strictures. Mr Housefather chaired the House of Commons committee I testified before just five years ago, and seemed personally a polite and agreeable fellow. But he belongs to the “Official Jews” for whom mass Muslim immigration is less of a threat than those awkward types who point out the obvious consequences of mass Muslim immigration. The “Official Jews” are not confined to Canada: America is awash with them, as is the United Kingdom. And unless, as Kathy Shaidle used to say, they’re “too stupid to be Jewish” what’s happening cannot have come as a surprise.

And thus the seeming paradox of the post-war era – that, as a certain “niche Canadian” has been saying for years, the principal beneficiary of western Holocaust guilt was Islam. The Canadian Islamic Congress and America’s ADL and their European equivalents did not choose merely “to remain silent”: they enthusiastically welcomed it, and did their best to crush those who disagreed. Having made his bed, Mr Housefather is now apparently a little squeamish about lying in it. He is a Jew whose family have been Montrealers for generations. But there will be no Housefathers in the city’s future: that is the logical consequence of Liberal Party “multiculturalism”.

This isn’t about Jews, except insofar as they are presently at the sharp end of a convulsive cultural shift. About six months after 9/11, I took a little trip to Western Europe and the Middle East and, waiting for a friend in Vienna, I noticed that everybody going in and out of the maternity shop across the street appeared to be Muslim. That’s just anecdote, as the bien pensants who dismissed my book as “alarmist” like to say. But two decades on it’s borne out by statistics. Back then, Muslims made up four per cent of Austria’s population; now it’s over eight per cent.

“Eight per cent” doesn’t sound like a lot. But, in western societies of elderly native populations, they skew young, and make up an ever larger percentage of your youth – close to a majority in certain European cities. Jews, on the other hand, are old. So, for those cutesy coeds, young Muslims are all around and young Jews are very thin on the ground. Mr Housefather’s concern for “all students” to “feel safe on campus” isn’t going to be an issue for much longer.

The salient feature of the demonstrations roiling McGill, Columbia and other western campuses is not that the pasty blonde trustiefundies are “pro-Palestinian” but that they’re cool with being culturally Islamic. Oh, to be sure, it’s mostly just keffiyehs and a few other fashion accessories; not yet full body bags and clitoridectomies. But why wouldn’t it have a purchase on them that Mr Housefather’s bleatings about how everyone should feel safe do not? The young want to belong, and what they most want to belong to is the future – and they grasp instinctively where the future’s headed.

They also get that these guys mean it. It is not coincidental that white upscale females are now among the most enthusiastic proponents of Hamas. For two generations, their menfolk have made the mistake of believing all that What Women Want bollocks, and the result is legions of “new males”, metrosexuals, soyboys – or, alternatively, depressive methheads chugging back Bud Light down in the man-cave. Me again: “We have made a world of men that women don’t want and women that men don’t want, and that doesn’t seem likely to end well.”

Oh, it isn’t going to, that much seems completely obvious. In the world Steyn describes, how on Earth could it? Another apposite Steynism: Demography is destiny. We must pray he’s wrong, but in the quiet places deep inside us which we don’t talk about at parties, we know damned well he’s right.

Lots of folks on Our Side frequently warn, in grim, foreboding tones, “War is coming.” Okay, fair enough, so stipulated. But…WHICH war is coming, prithee tell? Would that be the war between Pisslam and Western Civ? The war between Real Americans and the Goosesteppin’ Left? Rural versus urban, Freemen versus authoritarian government, Blacks versus Whites? Red States versus FederalGovCo, deranged “transgender” freaks versus sane Normals? Academia versus Joe Lunchbucket? Republicans versus D卐M☭CRATs, illegal aliens versus citizens, Capitalists versus filthy Commies, builders versus wanton destroyers? Sickly, green-teethed Vegans versus sturdy omnivores in the flush of good health? Gun owners versus gun-grabbers? ((((Dem JooJooJooJOOOOOZ!!!)))) versus pretty much everybody else? Professionals versus tradesmen? NeverTrumpTards versus OnlyTrumpers? Ghettos versus suburbs? Big Labor versus Big Business? Which, which, which, which? Please, somebody help me out here, it’s got me all confusticated and bewildered.

Overlong as it is, frightening as it is, the above list is nevertheless by no means comprehensive. I can see I’m gonna have to get a scorecard to keep up with all this.

The most striking thing of all is how incredibly insightful the incomparable CS Lewis was; he saw this goatfuck coming decades ago, laying out the particulars with such foresight and precision it makes for some seriously hair-raising reading.

A masterful piece of religious prose disguised as satire, C.S. Lewis’s The Screwtape Letters is a series of messages from senior devil Screwtape to his protégé Wormwood on how best to corrupt mortals. Originally released during World War II, its tight 175 pages provide charming, timeless wisdom.

In an addendum released shortly before the author’s death in 1963 – Screwtape Proposes a Toast – Lewis pivots from dispensing universal wisdom to directly criticizing social trends of his day, trends which have gone from mere whispers on college campuses 60 years ago to become orthodoxy with the power of law today. Reading it today, it feels like the author was more prophet than professor.

In the 15-page essay – full text available here – the devil Screwtape outlines how the term democracy can be warped into destroying excellence, first in the halls of education then to society at large to make sure everyone stays “equal.”

“Democracy is the word with which you must lead them by the nose,” Screwtape tells his fellow devils. “The basic principle of the new education is to be that dunces and idlers must not be made to feel inferior to intelligent and industrious pupils. That would be ‘undemocratic.’”

Screwtape espouses the “significant benefits” of “ungrading” decades before Brown University ever led this race to the bottom, saying:

“At universities, examinations must be framed so that nearly all the students get good marks. Entrance examinations must be framed so that all, or nearly all, citizens can go to universities, whether they have any power (or wish) to profit by higher education or not.”

Easy to see echoes of Screwtape in the demands of progressive demagogues, like when Bernie Sanders insisted that everyone should go to college so we have “the best-educated workforce in the world” – willfully ignoring that an education void of rigor has no value at all. Screwtape all but uses the word “triggered!” to describe children in self-esteem first, outcomes last schools.

“Children who are fit to proceed to a higher class may be artificially kept back, because the others would get a trauma — Beelzebub, what a useful word! — by being left behind.”

Screwtape must be grinning at headlines about public schools eliminating gifted programs, knowing how much this hurts the segment of society most likely to build it up: the middle class.

Downright spooky, no? Effectively, what Lewis has done here is draw a roadmap not of physical terrain but of the future, one much more accurate and minutely detailed than any Google GPS map is, will, or ever could be. Assuming current travel trends and conditions remain unchanged, all indications are that we’re in for a very rough ride—a nightmare trip which will steadily get worse the longer we stick with this godawful road, stubbornly maintaining course in this same deadly direction despite many large, colorfully-printed hazard signs warning of imminent catastrophe just ahead.

Plenty more after the excerpted passages, all of it similarly prescient. I downloaded the Screwtape addendum via the provided link, but haven’t found time to start reading it yet. When I do, you’ll know it; there’ll be tons more post-worthy material therein, I expect.

SitRep for Amerika v2.0

Situation Normal: ALLLL Fucked Up.

The citizens of the United States of America are in deep trouble. Why? I’ll tell you why.

The following are objectively true statements about the United States of America in 2024. These statements are not in any way hyperbolic, and they represent a stark reality that not even the most rabid Fascist Democrat can deny. Here they are:

1. The leader of the nation’s opposition party is currently defending himself in a series of contrived #lawfare criminal and civil suits reminiscent of fascist Hitlerian/Stalinesque show trials of the 20th Century, for the primary purpose of making it extremely difficult for him to be elected as President of the nation.

2. On campuses throughout the nation, Jewish students are being persecuted and attacked in a manner reminiscent of the German Nazi Party’s Kristallnacht of November 9 and 10, 1938.

3. In many states across the nation there are no voting laws enforced that effectively verify that ballots come from qualified citizen voters.

4. Individuals who peacefully protested the matter of #3 have been imprisoned by the federal government in inhumane conditions for literally years without trial.

5. The nation’s Southern Border is wide open to the point where any person who is capable of walking can cross into the nation AND receive free money and support necessary to survive. There is no mechanism to ensure that criminals and terrorists are not taking advantage of such situation.

6. The current President constantly displays symptoms of advanced elder dementia.

7. The current President has repeatedly labeled the opposition party as a “threat to democracy,” often alongside visual imagery similar to that used by Hitler and other fascist leaders of the 20th Century.

8. The nation’s debt equals over 120% of its annual GDP.

9. As a consequence of inflation and interest rates, most middle class citizens of the nation cannot afford to purchase a home.

10. The political party that controls the Presidency and the Senate has actively supported sending tens of billions of dollars to foreign governments who are credibly accused of money laundering funds provided to such party members, while not providing remotely similar assistance to the residents of the State of Hawaii who were burned out of their homes.

11. The nation’s military has equipment readiness rates making it incapable of fighting effectively, while instead focusing on “diversity” initiatives that promote race/gender/sexuality over war fighting skills and competency.

12. The overwhelming majority of the nation’s mass media refuses to report on any of the above matters, and in most cases the people running such mass media have close familial and personal connections to the people directly responsible for the above matters.

These are symptoms of a nation on the verge of disintegration. Moreover, these are qualities consistent with failed fascist regimes of the 20th Century.

What are we going to do about it, Patriots?

Ahh, the eternal question. The eternal answer: I don’t know.

This time out, I decided to just cut to the C&P chase without doing the usual Tweet embed. For that, head on over to the Place de la Renegade.

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Montana sitrep

Q: Are things coming to a head, even in Big Sky Country?

A: Yes. Yes, they are.

There’s Gonna be a War in Montana
An analysis of visible propaganda in Bozeman, Big Sky, and Three Forks

In popular culture, protagonists and antagonists battle eternally for Montana’s precious land. Country folk fight off city folk in Yellowstone and the podcast Land Grab: A Podcast About the Place We Call Montana. Long before that Montana (1950) pit sheep farmers against cattle farmers. In Last of the Dogmen (1995) cowboys faced Cheyenne Indians. Of the 14 major film/TV projects scheduled to be shot in Montana, every single one involves some take on the battle for Montana’s soul. And Montana’s soul is in its land.

Land conflicts have led to at least one recent murder, but despite Yellowstone’s depiction of ranchers (our heroes) massacring greedy real estate developers with machine guns, so far Montana hot wars have been relegated to fiction.

My wife, toddler, and I attended a family reunion on a ranch in Tom Miner Basin—one of the most beautifully preserved parts of the state—for a week. Six years ago I attended the same event at the same ranch. There is indeed something special about the land and particularly the sky in Tom Miner Basin. Rural Montana is astonishing. I won’t bore you with more cringey descriptions because that’s all there is to say. Jockeying for Montana’s land provides great stakes for drama because the prize is priceless.

More interesting to me were the parts of Montana I saw by accident. A new coldness grips the relationship between visitors and locals. I first noticed it at the ranch. Six years ago the kitchen helpers were a happy mix. The chef was known for his thoughtful local cuisine, elk with au jus, beef burgers from ranch cattle, loaded baked potatoes, hearty mac and cheese. The servers wore big smiles. The progressive boomers attending the reunion were comfortable with this type of staff, the same hodgepodge they interacted with at home. Much backslapping occurred.

This time, the help had clearly experienced a vibe shift. They were all white, and distant. The food was awful—boiled carrots and reheated pork steaks, the result of some Aramark-type lowest-bidder supply chain. The new staff had been mostly hired on Coolworks, a website for low paid service jobs on ranches, resorts, and other “great places.” They came from the surrounding towns, forgotten about, left behind, bright red Trump country. Young women with sloped posture and heavy eyeshadow, barely 18. Their clothes don’t fit, they looked impoverished, hungry, skittering. The young chef who had once proudly presented his take on local food was gone. The guests no longer chatted with servants. There was separation and silence.

Then my wife tested positive for COVID so we fled to Bozeman. Throughout the subsequent week, I explored Bozeman and Big Sky, ultra-hot destinations (and now homes) for the woke bourgeoisie, and Three Forks, the polar opposite, a totally different world a razor thin distance away. I saw two groups of people, an overclass and an underclass, pressed up against each other, spoiling for a fight, just waiting for the littlest spark to set their fury ablaze.

Over what? The soul of Montana of course. One-of-a-kind land. That’s nothing new. What’s new is the character of the warring factions. They aren’t who you see on TV. On one side you have global interests imputing their values, importing cheaper labor, hollowing out Montana’s attractions and selling them to an international bourgeoisie for maximum profits. On the other you have the new underclass. Not the friendly Christian country folk of times past. And not Cowboy Hat Republican Rancher Dad either. No, these are a new kind of country person. Angry, exasperated, poor, Trump-loving service-workers—the Oxy takers, the meth cookers, the eaters of Chick-Fil-A. This group is acutely aware of just who controls Bozeman and Big Sky, and believe that the same people are coming for their territory. And they’re right.

If you listen, you can hear the two groups screaming at each other in silence, waiting for their very own Gavrilo Princip to spark this thing off.

You can at that, and not just in Montana, either. Then again, when shitlibs are screaming at the top of their lungs exactly what they intend to do to you, it probably behooves you to listen. Because if you don’t think they’ll really do it—not they themselves necessarily, but through their Wokester governments; their Wokester banks and other corporate entities; their Wokester cultural mafia; their monolithic Wokester “education” edifices from pre-K to post-grad; their grim, whey-faced Wokester bureacrats—then you probaby aren’t paying attention anything like closely enough. Divemedic knows:


Indeed so.

(Via WRSA)

1

BURNED

Stephen says, “I’m trying to think of a bad decision she missed but I’m coming up short. The implied supposition that the car dealer has the shopper’s best interest at heart might be the biggest though.” Agreed, one hunnerd percent.

Mom, 28, forced to sell her dream car after forking out $40,000 in INTEREST alone over three years – as America’s auto debt spirals to $1.6 TRILLION
Three years ago, 28-year-old Blaisey Arnold entered a local auto dealership and came away with the keys to an $84,000 Chevy Tahoe.

Despite paying $1,400 a month in payments totaling more than $50,000, she still owes a balance of $74,000 to her lender – GM Financial.

Not only did she not make a down payment, she said she traded in a previous car on which she had fallen into negative equity.

Negative equity occurs when a driver owes more on their car loan than the vehicle is now worth. Sometimes, a dealer or lender can offer to roll the balance of an existing auto loan onto a new one, making it more expensive.

While rolling over debt into a new loan can seem convenient, it can be very dangerous and dealers have been known to not properly inform buyers that they will still be responsible for the remaining balance.

‘Honestly, it blows my mind that I have paid $50,000 into this car and only paid off $10,000,’ Arnold said. 

She told DailyMail.com the loan was issued to her on the very day she visited the dealer – and that had an APR of 10.2 percent.

‘I did not go with my husband and as a female I feel they took advantage of me. They knew I really wanted the car and that I was by myself,’ she said.

Oh believe me, Bimbelina, they didn’t take advantage of you “as a female.” Not at all. They took advantage of you as a goddamn dumbass, is what they did. I strongly suspect that your husband isn’t any smarter than you clearly are—otherwise, how could he stand being married to you?—and the dealership would have given him the exact same reaming you got.

All car salesmen LIVE to see people like you walk into the showroom; as artillerymen have long described troops in the open, you’re their meat—a wet dream come true.

Some of us always say that stupidity should be painful, and know what? Sometimes, it actually is.

3
1

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