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Another one they aren’t making any more of these days

That would be gifted actor, horseman, Marine veteran, Hollywood stuntman, ranch hand, jazz singer, blacksmith, and world-champion poker player Wilford Brimley.

Anthony Wilford Brimley (September 27, 1934 – August 1, 2020) was an American actor. After serving in the U.S. Marine Corps and working odd jobs in the 1950s, Brimley started working as an extra and stuntman in Western films in the late 1960s. He became an established character actor in the 1970s and 1980s in films such as The China Syndrome (1979), The Thing (1982), Tender Mercies (1983), The Natural (1984), and Cocoon (1985). Brimley was known for playing characters at times much older than his age. He was the long-term face of American television advertisements for the Quaker Oats Company. He also promoted diabetes education and appeared in related television commercials for Liberty Medical, a role for which he became an Internet meme.

Brimley joined the Marines in 1953 and served in the Aleutian Islands for three years. He also worked as a bodyguard for businessman Howard Hughes as well as a ranch hand, wrangler, and blacksmith. He then began shoeing horses for film and television. At the behest of his close friend and fellow actor Robert Duvall, he began acting in the 1960s as a riding extra and stunt man in westerns. In 1979, he told the Los Angeles Times that the most he ever earned in a year as an actor was $20,000. He had no formal training as an actor, and his first experience in acting in front of a live audience was in a theater group at the Los Angeles Actors’ Theater.

His first credited feature film performance was in The China Syndrome (1979) as Ted Spindler, a friend and coworker of plant shift supervisor Jack Godell (portrayed by Jack Lemmon). That same year, he appeared in the Robert Redford/Jane Fonda feature film “The Electric Horseman” cast as simply “The Farmer” while assisting Redford and Fonda’s characters evade troopers while transporting the horse in a cattle hauler. Later, Brimley made a brief but pivotal appearance in Absence of Malice (1981) as the curmudgeonly, outspoken Assistant Attorney General James A. Wells. In the movie The Thing (1982) he played the role of Blair, a biologist among a group of men at an American research station in Antarctica who encounter a dangerous alien that can perfectly imitate other organisms.

Brimley’s close friend Robert Duvall (who also appeared in The Natural) was instrumental in securing for him the role of Harry in Tender Mercies (1983). Duvall, who had not been getting along with director Bruce Beresford, wanted “somebody down here that’s on my side, somebody that I can relate to.” Beresford felt Brimley was too old for the part but eventually agreed to the casting. Brimley, like Duvall, clashed with the director; during one instance when Beresford tried to advise Brimley on how Harry would behave, Duvall recalled Brimley responding: “Now look, let me tell you something, I’m Harry. Harry’s not over there, Harry’s not over here. Until you fire me or get another actor, I’m Harry, and whatever I do is fine ’cause I’m Harry.”

It was Brimley’s showstopper star-turn as AAG James J Wells (not James A Wells, as Wiki erroneously has it above) in Absence of Malice that sent me down the Wilford Brimley rabbit hole today, after re-watching Brimley’s riveting performance on YewToob. Interesting thing about the apparent James J/James A flub: Brimley’s character may very well have been James A in the script (don’t know, didn’t check), judging from what appears to be his momentary hesitation when giving his name as James J in the AoM final cut:

Note ye well that Mr Brimley, a relatively unknown bit-player-cum-character actor at the time, just walked in, sat down, riffled some papers, opened his mouth, and proceeded to steal the entire film from screen titans Paul Newman and Sally Field, without so much as breaking a sweat. By God, that there is what you call acting, bub. Ahh, but how very typical of Wilford Brimley: Kurt Russell, Robert Duvall, Robert Redford, Jane Fonda, Jack Lemmon—running scenes with all of these fine actors and many more, he refused to be intimidated or overawed, nonchalantly holding his own with all those marquee names, making it look not just easy, but effortless.

More rich, buttery Brimley goodness from AoM:

One more time:

Over the years I must’ve seen Absence of Malice about, oh, I dunno, forty or fifty times—enough that I’ve long since had every word of Brimley’s dazzling five minutes or so of screentime towards the end down by heart, anyway—and still ain’t no way tired of the flick. If you’ve never seen the movie, I urge you with all my heart not to let another sun go down before you rectify that gap in your cinematic education. They ain’t making movies like Absence of Malice anymore, nor actors like Wilford Brimley, nor sturdy, versatile, by-God American men like him, for that matter.

Anybody else thinking, as I just was, that the AAG Wells character, in fact pretty much all the G-men in the above climactic scenes, represents another long-gone American totem: the competent, reasonable, and trustworthy public servant? Not to mention Sally Fields’ newspaper reporter, who, although she lost her way temporarily and compromised her professional ethics in pursuit of a red-hot scoop, nonetheless proves herself to be basically decent in the end, deeply regretful for betraying her integrity and resolved that she will NOT let it happen again.

As Wells says of the DA ensnared in Michael Gallagher’s clever trap: “Yeah, he’s a nice guy, he just forgot about the rules.” When the dust has settled, the wayward but basically well-meaning are chastened, the corrupt and malifecent made to face serious consequences, and AAG Wells has somebody’s ass in his briefcase, as promised.

Today, though, is there anyone left among us so naive, so unworldly, that he seriously expects such unflagging virtuousness from his “public servants,” even in a fictional movie? Yep, the past is a different country all right.


At long, long last

Ordinarily I’d hold onto this little gem to run it on a Monday or Wednesday, but it’s so damned good I just can’t control myself any longer. Ladeez ‘n’ gennamuns ’n’ sheeit, coming to you direct from WRSA’s Friday roundup, without further ado, embellishment, or delay, feast your eyes upon…the Meeeeme of the Centurrrrryyyy!!!

Heh. How ya like THEM apples? No need to crowd or jostle, folks, there’s plenty of room for all to have a good, close look at this rarest of specimens, never before displayed in captivity until this most special, once in a lifetime event.

Actually, I’m kinda ashamed I didn’t think of it myself.


SHOCKER: Dog bites man!!!

Seriously now, is there anybody out there who DIDN’T know this Breaking News BLOCKBUSTER!!© by now? Could there possibly be? Asking for a friend, that’s all.

NIH official finally admits taxpayers funded gain-of-function research in Wuhan — after years of denials
It’s about time!

At long last, National Institutes of Health (NIH) principal deputy director Lawrence Tabak admitted to Congress Thursday that US taxpayers funded gain-of-function research at the Wuhan Institute of Virology in China in the months and years before the COVID-19 pandemic.

“Dr. Tabak,” asked Rep. Debbie Lesko (R-Ariz.) of the Select Subcommittee on the Coronavirus Pandemic, “did NIH fund gain-of-function research at the Wuhan Institute of Virology through [Manhattan-based nonprofit] EcoHealth [Alliance]?”

“It depends on your definition of gain-of-function research,” Tabak answered. “If you’re speaking about the generic term, yes, we did.

The response comes after more than four years of evasions from federal public health officials — including Tabak himself and former National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases (NIAID) director Dr. Anthony Fauci — about the controversial research practice that modifies viruses to make them more infectious.

Said Dr Tabak to commit “suicide” by shooting himself in the back of the head 12 times in 5…4…3…2…

Follows, a veritable shitstorm of the de rigeur weasel-words, ass-covering, and evasiveness regarding what the actual, literal meaning of “gain of function” might and might not be, burped up by a Swamp critter cast of thousands, before we get to this, from Rutgers University genetics prof Dr. Bryce Nickels, also a co-founder of the pandemic oversight group (whatever that is) Biosafety Now:

“It’s pure insanity to continue to delegate responsibly for risk/benefit analysis of research that poses an existential threat to humanity to the scientist that will perform the work and their institutions,” Nickels claimed.

“We just had a devastating pandemic likely caused by creation of a [Pathogen with Enhanced Pandemic Potential] in a lab, and yet scientists want the public to trust them that they can police themselves?” he balked. “That’s just total and complete nonsense.”

Excellent point, Doc, but know what’s REALLY “complete nonsense,” in my humble estimation? That all y’all “experts” are still trying to peddle the FauxVid tyranny trial-run as a “devastating pandemic” to the contemptible panic-ninnies who fell for your bushwa the first time around, that’s what.

Ho-hum. Let’s tot it up, shall we?

  • A once-proud people terrorized, traumatized, and stampeded like mindless cattle
  • A booming national economy trashed
  • “Social distancing,” “mask mandates,” et al
  • A supply chain irrepairably damaged
  • Election-fraud mechanisms normalized, institutionalized, and permanentized
  • Bedrock American liberties and rights flung down and danced upon
  • Small businesses driven into bankruptcy while “essential” megacorporations are given a bye
  • Untold millions of lives, careers, families, relationships, critical health-treatment regimens, and educations disrupted and/or ruined
  • The Have-nots forced to cower in their homes under contra-Constitutional lockdowns while the Haves party hearty exactly as before

All this wanton destruction, impoverishment, and immiseration, brought about entirely by FederalGovCo skullduggery, psychopathy, and brazen lies. State and local governments also, lest we forget. Yet not one, not even ONE, of the perfidious plutocrats behind this con-job have so much as lost their cushy goobermint sinecures and/or bloated pensions over it. NOT. ONE.

TRUST these verminous orcs, or the Mordor On The Potomac megalith they run, again? Shyeeaaaaahhhh, that’ll be the day.

Tellyawhat, get back to me when the grisly homunculus Fauci, his henchman Peter Daszak, and the rancid tub of goo Deborah Birx—at the very, very minimum—have been duly sentenced to rockin’ orange in Supermax for the rest of their worthless existences, thenksveddymuch. Until that frabjous day arrives, it’s all just more of the same old talky-talk, in which I have a good deal less than no interest whatsoever. Investigations, hearings, blue-ribbon commissions, fiery speeches from DC ProPols, Congressional inquiries, lawsuits, etc etc ad infinitum ad nauseum—ummmm, yeah, NO. I’m with Ace:

He is a murderer and a perjurer. We cannot convict him for his millions of murders, but we can convict him of his dozens of perjuries.

This vicious malignant dwarf must spend the rest of his golden feather-bedded years in a federal prison. He spent his whole working life in the federal system; he should die there too.

A fuggin’ MEN, brother. Alas, I won’t be holding my breath waiting for it, and neither should you.


Eyrie up!

I stopped doing these bi-weekly Eyrie reminder posts a while back, preferring to let the Substack hang sink or swim on its own. So far, it’s worked out nicely enough with just the link in the Donnybrook post for promo. But I feel tonight’s Eyrie post is really something special, enough so to induce Ye Humble Aulde Blogghoste to call a little main-page CF Muthaship attention to it.

Entitled “Courage, heroism, persistence: what they REALLY look like,” the topic is MSGT Roy Benavidez, of whom, when Reagan hung the MoH around his neck back in ’81 for some truly astonishing exploits on 2 May 1968 as a fighting Green Beret so-jer serving in Vietnam, had this to say: “If the story of his heroism were a movie script, you would not believe it.”

As per his usual wont, Ronnie was exactly, precisely correct about that; just hit the Eyrie link, then carry on from my brief excerpt and commentary to the original article and see if you don’t agree. Since somebody or other (a-HENH!) brought up my commentary just now, here’s a wee dram just to give you the overall flavor.

It’s to our immense cost that, in an age when the words “duty,” “honor,” and “sacrifice” have become dirty words, the concept of “masculinity” itself reduced to little more than a punchline, America seems incapable of producing doughty, indomitable men like MSGT Benavidez anymore. There were precious few of them to begin with, and we’ll always need as many of them as we can possibly get.

That, too, is just true as all git-out. Now go looky, peeps. Subscribe, share, pay-sub to comment, all the usual foofaraw.


The Daily Donnybrook, and other fine things

Welcome to Ye Olde Colde Furye Blogge’s shiny new open-comments thread, where y’all can have at it as you wish, on any topic you like. Do note that the official CF comments policy remains in effect here, as enumerated in the left sidebar. All new posts will appear below this one. There will be blood…

Mike @Substack

New Eyrie posts go up on Mondays and Fridays, although the time of day may (and usually does) vary. Mike’s latest Eyrie offering is available for perusal here: Screamin’ meemie…um, Tuesday!

Please do consider subscribing to The Eyrie, gang; all subscribers receive email notification whenever each new post goes live, and a paid sub is required to unlock commenting privileges.

Quote of the day week month year decade century millenium

The left has the ability to understand reason and the law about as well as my spoon understands the difference between mint chocolate chip and rocky road.

“Presenting them with facts and evidence on gun control is met with remarks about penis size. Talking about case law is like banging your head against a wall. Talking simply won’t work with them.

Which is EXACTLY why we need to stop even bothering to pretend to try; it wastes your time, and annoys the pig. The one, the only language they understand is violence, of the “swift and blinding” variety. So be it, then. Govern yourselves—or, y’know, not—accordingly.



Hey, if the shoe fits…

‘Nuff said on THAT.



Welcome to this week’s installment of our Wednesday meme feature, folks. Links to the “found via” sources will be attached to the specific MiQ’s (Memes in Question) whenever I can remember them, which likely won’t be very often. Only the first two memes will appear above the fold to save on bandwidth usage, since I assume not everybody who shows up at this here websty will want to see all of them. This intro will appear at the top of each week’s Memezapoppin’! post. Enjoy, funny pitcher-lovers.


Continue reading Memezapoppin’!


As the clock ticks

Criminal malfeasance, plain as day and beyond debate.

‘FBI Kept PUSHING’: Damning Thread Shows Just How Involved the FBI Really WAS in Plot to ‘Fednap’ Whitmer
As the country is a hot mess of horrible in more ways than one under the current leadership, it’s easy for things to sort of fall off your radar. Take for example, the FEDnapping hoax aka a so-called plot from a Michigan milita to kidnap Gretchen Whi(t)mer.

You guys remember that, yes? When a militia was somehow inspired by Trump or white supremacy or something to try and kidnap GRETCH?

Yeah, it sounds stupid when you see it like that but…it was real.

A real hoax, that is.

Follows, a crapton of Tweets laying out the nefarious FederalGovCo plot in detail, after which a seriously flabbergasted Sam J sarcastically quips:

We honestly don’t even know what to say at this point.


But you know, we’re not supposed to even talk about the possibility of FBI agents fueling what happened on January 6th.


InfuckingDEED, girl. Not supposed to? Not allowed to, more like, don’t even dare to at that, on pain of consequences most dire as punishment for our appalling impudence.

Hey, when your new puppy piddles on the rug, you gotta give him a swat with a rolled-up newspaper, scold him with a sharpish “NO!” in your best command-voice, rub his nose in his own mess, and chuck his unruly ass outside for a while, amIright? Unsettling as it can sometimes be for you, now and then you must be stern with the cute little rascal, or else he won’t ever be properly housetrained, amIright?

Every dog owner knows that instilling discipline is something dogs need, really; it’s good for them, in all sorts of ways. When you get right down to it, you owe the pup that, it’s your duty to him as Supreme Master of the house. Fulfill that duty and your home will be a happy one, a place of refuge and comfort, all who shelter within its walls safe, secure, and content. Be derelict in said duty, and your home…well, suffice it to say that it won’t be.

And that’s precisely how our exalted lords and masters regard us unmannerly, grimy, grunting Serf Class oafs: as untrained puppies badly in need of corrective instruction in knowing our place, obedience, and unquestioning fealty to our betters. Contra what I said the other night about noblesse oblige being dead and long gone, it actually isn’t; it lives on in Ruling Class hearts and minds, although they don’t consciously know that, and wouldn’t acknowledge its ongoing influence if they did.

It’s just that today, noblesse oblige applies in a slightly different way, in a differently-structured society whose lowly subjects have long since forsaken their philosophical orientation towards the Founding principles of ordered liberty, the rule of law by consent of the governed, individual self-determination, and strictly limited government, shifting the culture towards their exact opposites. A Leftist-driven cultural shift, mind, one that breathed new life into the tenaciously non-extinct corpus of the old noblesse oblige, from a national polity that had once strenuously objected to such a grotesque relic from the Dark Age days of Kings, Queens, and the far-flung colonial empires whose enslaved aboriginals they cruelly exploited and abused, when they weren’t outright exterminating the poor dears for sport.

Ace asks a silly question:

So when do these FBI agents go on trial for conspiracy to commit kidnapping?

Oh, we all know the answer to that one, I’m afraid. At the risk of sounding like the proverbial broken record, I’ll point out yet again that at this late stage of the game, there’s but one burning question left to answer. It’s a daunting question, a painful question, in all honesty a truly terrifying one. Nevertheless, the awful thing sits there staring every Real American straight in the face…waiting. Sooner or later, one way or another, for good or for ill, it WILL be answered; dodging, delaying, or deluding ourselves that the question is neither pressing nor all that important provides a de facto answer in and of itself, a most condemnatory one—the very answer our oppressors are relying on us to give, smugly assuming that, in our cowardice, dependence, and decadent self-absorption, we have no other viable choice.

May God have mercy on us if that calumnious assumption proves to be correct.


Just GREAT: Biden to bring peace in our time

Anybody remember last night somebody mentioning “a phonus-balonus ‘peace’ agreement that would be tantamount to suicide” for Israel?

Yeah, about that.

The US aims to wrap up Gaza war. How does that square with its goal of toppling Hamas?

Easy-peasy: it does not, because it cannot. “Toppling” Hamas, much less eradicating it altogether, is in no wise the “goal” of the ruling US junta, the Moslem terrorist’s bestest friend.

More than seven months into the Israel-Hamas war, the Biden administration’s top priority is to try and secure a hostage deal. This would commence a weeks-long truce, but Washington’s goal is for that pause to be turned permanent.

“If we can get a ceasefire, we can get something more enduring and then maybe end the conflict,” White House National Security Council spokesperson John Kirby said this month.

What appears less clear, though, is how pushing for this ceasefire squares with another US commitment, which is to eliminate the threat of Hamas.

“An enduring defeat of Hamas certainly remains the Israeli goal, and we share that goal with it,” Kirby said last week.

The two objectives seem to clash, given that a temporary-turned-permanent deal with Hamas would ostensibly leave the terror group standing in Gaza.

Which is of course the whole point of the double-dealing exercise. Contra the pearl-clutching of the Jewphobic Right denouncing the “Biden” junta’s supposed lickspittle obeisance to the sole natural ally the US has (s’cuse me, HAD) in the region—which would be Israel, not Iran, as those misguided souls contend—actions speak louder than words, and by their fruits shall ye know them.

FederalGovco, controlled entirely by (((Dem Pesky JoojoojooJOOOOOOZ!!)))? Don’t make me laugh, people.

NEXT UP: the “humanitarian” importation of hordes of Hamas terrorists in the guise of helpless, monstrously abused “refugees,” followed by the transmogrification of another once-pleasant, inhabitable American metrop into the new Minneapolis, Dearborn, Mogadishu, et al.

FOLLOWING THAT: a sudden inexplicable surge in crime rates; riots; brutal gang-rapes; occasional bizarre murders by perps screaming “Allahu akhbar” and “Death to America” whose motive the FBI and/or DHS will swiftly announce themselves entirely capable of determining; various other “man-caused disasters” wherein “some people did some things.” All these incidents and more besides will be mystifyingly accompanied by “one of the prettiest sounds on Earth,” the Moslem call to prayer broadcast five times a day at ear-splitting volume throughout the city’s formerly placid residential districts.

It’s all very strange, I must say, although these phenomena are plainly unrelated, no discernible connection between them, no cause for the effect. Who even knowns anymore why it is that hoomon beenz do the wild and crazy things they do? Must be the contrails, or water flouridation, or an enchantment laid on by those Wicca gals. Or werewolves, maybe.

Update! Yeah, about importing those pitiable “refugees.”

Bob Casey Won’t Say Whether He Backs Biden’s Plan To Relocate Gazan Refugees to the United States
Pennsylvania Sen. Bob Casey (D.) this week repeatedly refused to say if he supports President Joe Biden’s plan to relocate refugees from Gaza to the United States.

Casey remained stone-faced and silent for nearly a minute as a political tracker pressed him for his stance on Biden’s proposal.

“Do you think Biden should send Gazan refugees to Pennsylvania?” asked the tracker, according to a video released by the National Republican Senatorial Committee.

Casey did not answer the question. Neither his office nor campaign responded to questions from the Washington Free Beacon about his views on the refugee proposal.

Casey and other vulnerable Democrats shied away from staking out a position on Biden’s proposal earlier this week. A Casey spokesman dodged the question in a statement to Politico, saying Casey is “focused on supporting Israel as it prosecutes its war against terrorist Hamas leaders, getting the hostages home, and ensuring Israel fulfills its obligation to prioritize humanitarian aid to civilians in Gaza. He believes U.S. focus should be on these three goals right now.”

The heart, it bleeds for our new Hamas-American fellow citizens. POINTS FOR POLLYANNAS:

  1. The hostages are dead already, likely having been slaughtered by those Ham-ass animals within no more than a month or so of being taken prisoner; they should be mourned, avenged, and remembered, but not expected to ever be seen alive by their loved ones again
  2. If Israel prioritizes humanitarian aid to “civilians” in Gaza—the overwhelming majority of whom support Hamas and their genocidal ambitions, making them anything but “innocent”— then the successful prosecution of this entirely just war is of necessity going to be lower on the to-do list, when it of right ought to be Israel’s A-Number One imperative
  3. If you credulously imagine that a majority percentage of our proposed “refugee” imports won’t consist of fit, devout-Moslem males of military age, you should immediately bend over for the swift, hard kick in the ass you so badly need, because you are just too fucking stupid to live

As hesitant and conflicted as the aforementioned D卐M☭CRAT scumbuckets pretend to be regarding mass-relocation of hordes of bloodthirsty, unvetted Moslem unassimilables from Gaza to these shores, don’t be fooled, I implore you. The snake-in-the-grass politicos are engaging in the requisite fence-straddling theatrics before they “reluctantly” agree to give Bribem’s backstage string-pullers everything they want.

This is merely the same old camera-ready dumbshow for their fed-up constituents showcasing several of their many admirable qualities for the mouth-breathing rubes: their noble, heartfelt compassion for the plight of innocent, war-weary “refugees”; their judicious consideration of all sides of a weighty issue; their courageous, fair-minded demand for an immediate end to Israeli brutality; the deep, abiding patriotism exemplified by their unwavering commitment to look out for the best interests of the hapless schmendricks every slime-encrusted Swamp critter loves to poke out both forks of his/its tongue and reverentially refer to  as “the folks back home,” as a single crocodile-tear rolls down his reptilian cheek.

Note ye well, s’il vous plaît, that not a one of those admirable qualities do the politicians actually possess. I repeat: don’t be fooled. Despite how self-evidently stupid, destructive, and downright dangerous this manipulative fan-dance is, the Hamas “refugees” are as good as here already, like it or lump it—pre-loaded ATM and EBT cards, Medicaid enrollment, patently illegal voter registration, welfare bennies, free housing in undisclosed locations, and all. This profligate generosity, mind, all courtesy of the US tax-slave.

Updated update! In light of the imminent influx of Hamas-American “immigrants,” I think a rewrite of Emma Lazarus’s maudlin, auto-flagellational pome is in order, to more accurately reflect our increasingly parlous times.

Give me your poor, your illiterate
Your intractable masses yearning to slaughter the infidel
The irredeemable refuse of your barren desert.
Send these, the troglodytic, soulless zealots to me,
I lift my dimming lamp beside the open border!

There, that’s more like it. Welcome home, you knuckledragging abominations.


Constitutional course of instruction

Roth Renegade discovers one of Porretto’s favorites, the uncompromising champion of human liberty Lysander Spooner.

The Constitution has no inherent authority or obligation. It has no authority or obligation at all, unless as a contract between man and man. And it does not so much as even purport to be a contract between persons now existing. It purports, at most, to be only a contract between persons living eighty years ago. And it can be supposed to have been a contract then only between persons who had already come to years of discretion, so as to be competent to make reasonable and obligatory contracts. Furthermore, we know, historically, that only a small portion even of the people then existing were consulted on the subject, or asked, or permitted to express either their consent or dissent in any formal manner. Those persons, if any, who did give their consent formally, are all dead now. Most of them have been dead forty, fifty, sixty, or seventy years. And the Constitution, so far as it was their contract, died with them. They had no natural power or right to make it obligatory upon their children. It is not only plainly impossible, in the nature of things, that they could bind their posterity, but they did not even attempt to bind them. That is to say, the instrument does not purport to be an agreement between any body but “the people” then existing; nor does it, either expressly or impliedly, assert any right, power, or disposition, on their part, to bind any body but themselves.

It cannot be said that the Constitution formed “the people of the United States,” for all time, into a corporation. It does not speak of “the people” as a corporation, but as individuals. A corporation does not describe itself as “we,” nor as “people,” nor as “ourselves.” Nor does a corporation, in legal language, have any “posterity.” It supposes itself to have, and speaks of itself as having, perpetual existence, as a single individuality.

Moreover, no body of men, existing at any one time, have the power to create a perpetual corporation. A corporation can become practically perpetual only by the voluntary accession of new members, as the old ones die off. But for this voluntary accession of new members, the corporation necessarily dies with the death of those who originally composed it.

Legally speaking, therefore, there is, in the Constitution, nothing that professes or attempts to bind the “posterity” of those who establish it.

S’truth, strange though it may sound to contemporary ears; no less august a personage than Thomas Jefferson himself implicitly affirmed this thesis years before, with these stirring words:

God forbid we should ever be 20 years without such a rebellion.

The people can not be all, and always, well informed. The part which is wrong will be discontented in proportion to the importance of the facts they misconceive. If they remain quiet under such misconceptions it is a lethargy, the forerunner of death to the public liberty. We have had 13 states independant 11 years. There has been one rebellion. That comes to one rebellion in a century and a half for each state.

What country before ever existed a century and half without a rebellion? And what country can preserve it’s liberties if their rulers are not warned from time to time that their people preserve the spirit of resistance? Let them take arms.

Bold mine, and a hearty amen to that.


Culprit identified!

So as y’all probably know already, Jerry Seinfeld, fresh off some disparaging words for Wokesters, Cancel Culture, and Leftards in general (to my own great surprise), was slated to give the commencement address at Duke University the other day. Whereupon a cpl-three dozen of the stunning, brave Extry Double Special Snowflake students, affronted by the comic’s White Male Jewboy Fascist violent microaggression against their tender sensibillities, walked out to convey their disgust for Seinfeld’s intolerable, Literally Genocidal Hate Speech the week before.

Questions arose: Might there have been some behind-the-scenes mastermind behind the walkout? Was it spontaneous, or planned in advance? Could such a protest have gone off so smoothly without prior coordination by some shadowy, sinister agent provocateur directing the action from offstage? If not, who might that shadowy manipulator have been?

You has questions, the Bee has answers.

Heh. NEWMAN!!! I might’ve known. The article is paywalled, so no excerpt; I figured the screen-grab pretty much says it all anyhoo. Calls for a topical embed, I do believe.

No word at this writing as to whether the student snub-cum-childishtantrum has shown Seinfeld the error of his Reich-wing ways and persuaded him to Become Better through embracing the enlightened, sophisticated, clearly superior Smarterer Set way of thinking yet, but I have every confidence that it soon will. It always has before, see. You’ll find true happiness and fulfillment once you’ve emerged from the dark side and joined us in the Light, Jerry!

Sweden has fallen

Bet Mark Steyn has come to really hate being proved right all the time.

I may not know much, but I know Malmö – although eighteen years ago one of the Australian Broadcasting Corporation’s many in-house lefties, Jill Singer, accused me of exaggerating the city’s transformation. I offered to fly the late Ms Singer and an ABC crew to Sweden so that she could accompany me on what, by 2006, had already become my annual ritual in Malmö. The eminent presenter declined, being more concerned, fulminating-theocrat-wise, by George W Bush, on the grounds that “a faith-based US President …scares the bejesus out of me”. So, as in previous years, I walked my walk alone:

After that conference with Lars in Copenhagen a couple of years ago, I took the train over the water to Malmö in Sweden. Malmö was one of the first Christian cities in what was then Denmark. It’s now on course to become the first Muslim city in Sweden. I sat and had a coffee in a nice little place in a beautiful medieval square in the heart of town. Aside from a few modernist excrescences, it would not have looked so different in the early days of the Lutheran church. I got lucky, and fell into conversation with a couple of cute Swedish blondes. Fine-looking ladies. I shall miss Scandinavian blondes when they’re extinct. At dusk, and against their advice, I took a 20-minute walk to Rosengård. As you stroll the sidewalk, the gaps between blondes grow longer, and the gaps between young bearded Muslim men grow shorter. And then eventually you’re in the housing projects, and all the young boys kicking a soccer ball around are Muslim, and every single woman is covered – including many who came from “moderate” Muslim countries and did not adopt the headscarf or hijab until they emigrated to Sweden, where it’s compulsory, at least in Rosengård.

Do you remember the rationalization Israel used at the Oslo Accords? “Land for peace”? In Sweden, which is about as far as you can get from Gaza and the West Bank, they’re also trading land for peace, and as in Gaza unlikely to wind up with either. The Jews are already fleeing Malmö: Soon it will be like Tangiers or Baghdad or any other Arab town with a weed-strewn, decaying “old Jewish cemetery” and no one left to tend it. But it’s not just the Jewish graveyard that’s destined to be abandoned, but the Lutheran ones, too.

I would urge anyone to do that twilight walk from downtown Malmö to Rosengård, as the blondes thin and the bearded men multiply. That’s Europe’s future walking toward you.

For around a decade-and-a-half it was a more-or-less scientific experiment. Until the Covid clobbered my jetsetting, each year I would mark the precise point at which the last blonde was glimpsed and the beards took over – and each year that point advanced just a little more towards the centre of Malmö. By 2008 (which is a long time ago now: Greta Thunberg was in kindergarten) the “foreign-born” population of Rosengård was already 86 per cent. Sixty per cent had not completed elementary school.

How’s that working out? Sweden is not to everyone’s tastes, but it was, until recently, a peaceful and well-ordered society. Today, in a wholly transformed land where you can be shot dead in the crossfire at a pub and the courts say child gang-rape does not count as a serious crime, you might think that the ire of ethnic Swedes would be directed other than toward Jews. But in 2016 in Östersund I talked to a young lady whose daughter and her friends had been sexually assaulted in the municipal swimming baths by “migrants”. The staff who witnessed it sized up the cocksure young lads, swimming in the pool (in defiance of regulations) in their urine-stained and malodorous underwear, and declined to attempt their removal.

“There must have been other men there,” I said. “Didn’t they do anything?”

My friend laughed. “Swedish men are manginas,” she said – a portmanteau of “man” and “vagina” with which I was not hitherto familiar.

It is the logic of arithmetic: Follow the science, as Greta’s climate chums say. A keffiyeh is a little light accessorising; the full body bag will come later. So I’ll repeat my observation from almost two decades back: The Swedes are also trading land for peace, and will wind up with neither. A society that has nothing to die for has nothing to live for, and thus the last Europeans rush to embrace those who will supplant them.

If preferring Israel and ((((DemPeskyJOOOOOZ!!!))) to yodeling jihadi weirdbeards and any of their hellish Muzzrat theocracies you’d care to name is wrong, then I don’t wanna be right. As the Bible (almost, kinda-sorta, okay, not really) says, by their friends shall ye know them. Any position that places me alongside “people” like tard-baby terror-symp Greta T; sundry campus-protest pussyfarts; Faux Jaux Bribem & the D卐M☭CRATs, and the whole squalid panoply of Jew-haters, Jew-baiters, the Mad Mullahs, Enemedia liars, and historically-illiterate Libtard shitwits who have not the first fucking clue about the Middle East generally, Pisslam, and exactly why and how Western Civ got itself into this sorry pass to begin with…well, thanks, but no thanks. That is NOT anyplace I want to be standing, these are NOT people I want to be associated with in any way, shape, or form.

A suggestion of even slight congruity between my own viewpoints, beliefs, or casual assumptions and their own is grounds for immediate, careful reconsideration on my part, to help me figure out where I might have gone so horribly wrong, and put things right again.

I hope BiBi tells Usurper Jaux in no uncertain terms to go take himself a flying fuck at a rolling donut; goes through the Rafah rat’s nest like shit through a goose—buildings, homes, streets, and tunnels, the whole God-bedamned megilla; and offs every last pus-nutted, goat-buggering Hamas filthbag currently stinking up the joint. Not one brick left standing upon another, Mr Prime Minister, sir, that’s my advice. In the immortal words of Kevin Costner portraying old-school G-man Elliott Ness:

And there you have it, Mr Netanyahu. Damn the naysayers who hate you no matter what, with their squee-squee-squeeing for a phonus-balonus “peace” agreement that would be tantamount to suicide for your proud, undauntable people. Collateral damage, “civilian” casualties, “disproportionate” force? Boo fucking HOO, assholes. PRO TIP for murdering Mooselimb savages now crying their widdle eyes out over “genocide” and other such rot: Don’t start none, won’t be none. The current conflict, initiated by Hamas at the unwise instigation of their Iranian overlords, must now end in one and only one way: total, uncompromising victory for Israel.



The local classical radio station which I listen to pretty much all day every day is, as you would expect, a dyed-in-the-wool, Mark-1 Mod-0 Left/“liberal” outlet, as steeped in the brain-devouring catechism of Wokester/PC as it’s possible to be. So naturally, they have this godawful program they run several times a day called Noteworthy (or, as I refer to it with a snarl, Notworthy©, for the sake of accuracy and truth in advertising), dedicated to seeing to it that “marginalized” Black Lesbian non-binary Lesbian Neegrow Composers Of Color (also ©) get the greater exposure the PC knotheads running the station feel they “deserve.”

Problem being, they don’t, they really don’t. From the Notworthy webpage:

NoteWorthy is a series of audio stories created to broaden our view of classical music by shining a light on the lives and music of artists of color, women, and others from historically underrepresented groups. Each episode provides an introduction to an artist, performing ensemble, musicians, or composer from all eras and genres of classical music. In a couple of minutes, you can learn about the contributions these artists have made and are making to the art form while discovering some great music along the way.

“Underrepresented,” is it? So now we’re required to adjust our musical tastes according not to talent or creativity but to make up the numbers based strictly on a composer’s skin color, ethnicity, gender (if any), and/or preferred sex-kink? Good to know, I guess. Pleasing to the ear, inspiring, imaginative, truly innovative? None for me, thanks, I’m a “liberal.”

With the barest handful of exceptions—practically all of them alive and working no later than about 1945-50—Noteworthy’s lousy, talent-bereft stable of contemporary (mostly) hacks aren’t fit to carry Ludwig Van’s jockstrap. Exhibit A: Etharnopian “composer” Emahoy Tsegue-Maryam Guebrou’s rousing piece for solo piano entitled “In Memory Of Catherine Brady.”

It carries on like that for a long, miserable while, but the first minute and a half to two minutes of it will give you the general flavor. I can’t in good faith recommend you bother with any more of it than that lest you wind up hurling something hard and heavy through your monitor screen in a fit of philistine pique at the kind of twaddle some PC über alles pinheads are willing to laud as “genius” nowadays.

Now, having played a heck of a lot of classical and ragtime piano myself since I was seven (7) years of age up until the curse of DuPuytren’s Contracture ruined all that for me several years ago, I feel myself eminently qualified to point out that what this hot mess sounds like to my trained and experienced ear is the sort of thing a concert pianist might run backstage to limber up the hands, wrists, and fingers as a pre-show warmup. Compare, contrast the above “marginalized” Noteworthy composer’s random, tuneless noodling around brilliant work with, oh, f’rinstinct, the moving, hauntingly beautiful Larghetto movement from Mozart’s Piano Concerto No 26 in Dmaj.

Comparison? Ain’t none, sorry. Mozart’s music has stood the test of time, still beloved and enjoyed 233 years after he prematurely departed this mortal coil in 1791 at the too-tender age of thirty-five. Likewise Beethoven, Schubert, Mendelssohn, Haydn, and so many truly noteworthy (a-HENH!) others. The music of the masters from the Baroque, Classical, and Romantic periods will live forever. With good and valid reason, too.

Contemporary trash-haulers such as Msxz Guebrou and her fellow dumpster-diving luminaries being pimped all to hell and gone by the Progressivist lackwits behind the Notworthy© program, on the other hand? If their “art” is remembered more than three (3) minutes after the latest NW episode has concluded, the stench dissipated, the resultant pounding headache set in, that’ll be about two and a half minutes longer than it merits.

The underlying conceit here is that these self-indulgent muttonheads are being unjustly denied their due and proper because Racism, Sexism, Homophobia, all the standard hobgoblins of the small “liberal” mind—prolly Republicans, Whypeepuh, ((((Dem JoojoojooJOOOOOZ!!!))), Election Deniers, Fox News, and of course Trump, too. T’ain’t so, McGee. With vanishingly few exceptions, the reason WDAV’s precious Notworthy© noodlers, doodlers, and purveyors of musical meat-beatery are “marginalized” and “underrepresented” is plain as the nose on Jimmy Durante’s face: because they deserve to be. Because they, y’know, suck dead green donkey dicks. Full stop, end of fucking story.

As composers of classical/orchestral/symphonic music they do, at any rate. They might be really nice people, excellent mechanics, great cooks, I couldn’t say. But composers? Yeah, no.


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