GIVE TIL IT HURTS!

Side note

One thing about the absolutely jaw-dropping influx of donations I’ve been thoroughly floored by this week: there’s just been so damned many of you fine folks hitting Ye Aulde CF Tippe Jarre that just ain’t no way on God’s green Earth I’m gonna be able to send out email thank-yous to y’uns. This kinda makes me sad, honestly, since kiting a personal, private thanks whenever I receive a particulary generous donation out of the clear blue sky is something I’ve always enjoyed doing, and has long been standard practice around this here websty.

Subscribers, not so much; never could see any justification for spamming peoples’ inboxes once a month, so I never have done it. Moreover, most of my little coterie of “subscribers” are longtime readers I’ve become friendly with over the years, with whom I correspond on the regular outside the confines of the bloggiverse. I’ve even swapped pictures with what you might call the “CF Inner Circle” on occasion: photos of family; spouses; pets; favorite vacation spots; cars, boats, motorcycles, even the (VERY!) occasional airplane, and other such-like things as and when the urge hath struck.

So yeah, with all that goin’ on I figger my subscribers know already how much I truly do love them; no real need to keep rubbing their noses in how awesome they are, I shouldn’t think.

As for you folks who kicked in on this past week’s impromptu, kinda-sorta, not-quite-official fundraiser, please accept this brief missive, impersonal as it may seem, as a sincere expression of my gratitude. Your generosity humbles and awes me; your kind attention restores and renews my determination to keep on keepin’ on with this blog-writing nonsense, to the very limits of my ability, skill, and strength. The CF Pledge remains in full effect: long as y’all keep on reading, I promise I’ll keep on writing for ya. Hopefully, at least some of it will be half-decent, anyway.

Thank you all so very, very much.

Tulsi stumbles

WTAF, Miz G?

What the Hell Was That Tulsi Gabbard Video About?
Let’s talk about nuclear war, Director of National Intelligence Tulsi Gabbard, and Director of National Intelligence Tulsi Gabbard’s weird video about nuclear war.

AWWWW! Do we HAVE to, Uncle Steve? JEEZ….

Gabbard got raked over the coals by right-leaning critics, some conflating her remarks with an historically illiterate apology for Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Noah Rothman was one of several who accused her of “all but endors[ing] Barack Obama’s revisionist and ahistorical account of the end of the Second World War,” although I didn’t hear anything like that.

But that’s not to say that Gabbard’s video wasn’t at the very least odd.

At one point, Gabbard claimed that our “political elite and warmongers” are fomenting global thermonuclear war “because they are confident that they will have access to nuclear shelters for themselves and for their families that regular people won’t have access to.”

They still have to come out sometime. Real life isn’t an episode of “Fallout.”

Sen. John Kennedy (R-La.) — no RINO squish — quipped, “She obviously needs to change her meds,” and I’m inclined to agree.

I’m not the biggest fan of Gabbard on policy — she was strangely buddy-buddy on several occasions with Syria’s Bashar al-Assad and sometimes comes across as a Putin apologist. But I understand Trump’s desire, the nation’s need, and Gabbard’s ability to shake up the D.C. intel community. 

But none of that explains the general weirdness on display here.

Curiously, when Trump met this weekend at Camp David to discuss Iran and Gaza strategy with his “top team,” including “Vice President Vance, Secretary of State Marco Rubio, Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth, chief of staff Susie Wiles, special envoy Steve Witkoff, CIA director John Ratcliffe and other senior officials,” Gabbard was not in attendance.

There’s also the question of why the president’s DNI would make a campaign-style video.

Is she on her way out — of her own accord or not? I won’t pretend to even have a guess.

Nor will I. Tulsi Gabbard has long walked a very different path than most any other American ProPol you could name, for which habit I’ve always liked more than disliked her. As a confirmed off-the-beaten-track weirdo myself for my whole life, how could it be otherwise? Long as your personal “freak flag” doesn’t involve pedophilia, necrophilia, or bestiality; promoting mental dysfunction by insisting everyone endorse your delusional notion that, in your own head, you are not in fact the biological sex you so clearly are; suppression of others’ right to freedom of expression by means of intimidation and/or violence; shitting in the streets; and any and every other traducement of a free man’s God-given rights as enumerated in the US Constitution, you just go right ahead and let that freak flag of your’n fly, ain’t gonna catch no grief from this ol’ boy about it.

Who the hell even knows what’s going on in the lady’s pretty head this time, but looking at the bigger overall picture we’ve seen of Gabbard, her instincts, and her inclinations, I’m willing to overlook a little weirdness now and then. Certainly, she’s utterly loyal to the Bossman who put her where she is now—more loyal than she’ll ever be to any collectivist ideology; the criminal organization masquerading as a political party pimping it; or the nefarious, sub-rosa skullduggery by which Team Stalin hopes to ram their agenda down Real American throats, whether they will or they nil.

On the other hand, one thing we’ve all learned on the PDQ about President Donald John Trump v2.0 this time out: he sure knows how to keep ‘em guessing, don’t he? The man’s got a real gift for putting absolutely everybody—be they friend, foe, or disinterested passerby—on the back foot and seeing to it that they stay that way for as long as he needs ’em to be, as my dear old Grampa used to say. Going all the way back to the 2016 campaign, every time you heard yet another pinhead press “corpseman” griping about OMB’s roundabout, meandering way of speaking, how nobody could ever seem to pin The Donald down and force a straightforward, direct answer from him regarding any topic at all—ZOMG what is WRONG with you people can’t you fucking see he is just so stupid stupid stupid he can’t even utter coherent  sentences in correct English, he’s soooooo stupid!!!—it was always my belief that what we were really looking at was Trump maneuvering the pasty, officious dweeb into his patented Figure Four Leg Lock (Rhetorical), only the poor victim wasn’t bright enough to realize he’d just been made a fool of by the better, smarter, more wily man.

AGAIN, I mean.

Let’s get this party STARTED, people!

Bet none of y’all had “kicks off for reals in formerly mellow, laid-back El Lay, duuuude, sparked by illegal-alien cuddling shitlibs violently turning on certain FederalGovCo departments and/or agencies for simply doing their jobs and nothing more” on your Civil War v2.0 bingo card, now didja?

Many Americans express bewilderment to me as to why even the soi-disant Euro-pussies would surrender their homelands to barbarians without a shot being fired. Fair point – except that the pilot programme for this unprecedented civilisational suicide was an American jurisdiction, and once one of the most glittering in the Union. Among forty-nine other states, it was the Golden State; it fired the imaginations not just of Americans but of much of the planet: California, here I come! Won’t you get hip to this timely tip? I left my heart in San Francisco…

Really? If you did, it’ll be sitting in a pile of fecal matter. Even as it happened, the loss of California was not much analysed: The Democrats preferred to take their victory sotto voce, while Republicans were still bleating about “Ronald Reagan’s California”, as if it had not joined the Lost City of Atlantis on the bottom of the seabed. Orange County, said Mr Reagan, is where “all good Republicans go to die”.

Almost right. It’s where the Republican Party went to die. In 1990 the OC was still two-thirds white; now it’s a third, or the same as the Hispanic population. And yet the GOP remains mystified why one of the most Republican strongholds in the country is now just another Democrat county. California has more electoral votes than any other state. Across the country, in another vote-rich state, New York City is now forty per cent immigrant.

In the end, it’s all demography. Yesterday, I quoted from an old column of mine from the immediate aftermath of the 2012 election. But I thought the whole thing could use a replay – because demography killed California, and demographic transformation is not a natural phenomenon.

Did someone mention NYC just now? Why yes, I believe someone did at that.

NYPD vehicles torched in suspected arson attack as cops find undetonated explosive devices nearby
Arsonists torched at least 11 NYPD vehicles in a targeted attack in a Brooklyn parking lot early Thursday — with undetonated explosive devices also found after two masked suspects were seen running away, police and sources said.

Police and FDNY responded to a report of multiple vehicles ablaze at a lot in Bushwick at the intersection of Central and DeKalb avenues — just a block from the 83rd Precinct station house — around 1:30 a.m. Thursday.

Mayor Eric Adams said at an unrelated press conference that 11 vehicles were damaged and 14 were impacted. No injuries were reported.

The NYPD did not immediately give a suspected motive for the attack, however a flyer taped to a wall directly across from the police station accuses officers of the 83rd precinct of breaking up Puerto Rican Day festivities on Sunday night, injuring revelers.

The fliers called for resistance against the police, and tied in the anti-ICE and protests have spread from Los Angeles to New York City and global anti-Israel protests.

“Now is the time for unified, disciplined action — from Palestine to Puerto Rico to Los Angeles, the struggle for freedom continues,” the flier read.

The above-cited reports of outbreaks of organized, coordinated shitlib violence from sea to shining sea are purely coincidental and entirely unrelated, I’m sure.

This land is THEIR land update! So what’s really going on here, you might well ask? Oh, lots. Lots, and lots, and lots, and LOTS.


1830, is it, muchacho? Having to reach kinda far back to make your point, seems to me. Which usually indicates that the point you’re trying to make is not a very good one. To wit:

How US got California, other states from Mexico for $15 million in 1848
The flag of Mexico has become ubiquitous on the streets of America as a protest symbol against Donald Trump and his government’s immigration policies. Which makes sense given that many people in Texas and California have Mexican ancestry. Let’s take a look at when the US purchased California and half of Mexico’s territory in 1848 got California, other states from Mexico for $15 million in 1848

The protests in Los Angeles, a response to the immigration policies of the Trump administration, continue to rage.

Though US President Donald Trump has sent thousands of National Guard troops as well as hundreds of marines, the demonstrators seem to be undeterred.

But how did it all come about? Let us take a closer look.

It all kicked off way back in the 1840s.

Tensions between the two countries had been growing for years.

On the one side you had the US evangelists of the concept of “manifest destiny” – which preached the superiority and the seemingly divine right of Americans to colonise whatever lands they saw fit on the continent – and on the other you had a wary Mexico.

In the meantime hostilities had nearly broken out between the two countries after the US Navy in 1942 – wrongly believing that war had broken out – seized Monterey in California.

While Monterey was immediately returned, it was a harbinger of things to come.

In 1845, outgoing President John Tyler annexed Texas as his final act in the US’ highest office.

By then, Mexico had severed diplomatic relations with the United States.

Polk began with diplomacy – he initially attempted to buy California, New Mexico and land near Texas for $30 million.

In November 1845, he even sent US diplomat John Slidell to open negotiations with Mexico.

However, Slidell was soundly rebuffed – the Mexican government refused to even see him.

But Polk was prepared– he had already sent US Army commander Zachary Taylor to occupy disputed land.

When Mexican troops fired on Taylor and his forces, Polk had the pretext he needed.

Polk immediately moved Congress for a declaration of war against America’s neighbour.

The Mexican-American War would end (with) the US comprehensively defeating its neighbour.

American armies led by General Zachary Taylor and General Winfield Scott, often outnumbered, would defeat Mexican troops again and again in a series of pitched battles.

The US lost more soldiers to infection and disease than actual battle.

Ulysses S Grant and Robert E Lee, the men who would respectively lead the Union and Confederate armies during the Civil War, received their first taste of real combat in Mexico.

And the rest, as they say, is history…like it or lump it, beaners.

The glancing mention of Grant and Marse Robert above is notable, apt, and historically insructive. By and large, Civil War v1.0 would be fought by two national armies whose officer corps had won their respective spurs in the Mex-Ami rhubarb. With the Federal army, the majority of its field-grade officers would be offered their commissions based almost entirely on their Mexican War reputations, which sometimes had been fairly won and other times…eh, not so much.

In the long run, the relative cakewalk South of the US border ended up serving the US and CSA both quite well as a sort of hands-on, non-classroom OCS/practical training course/advanced tactical studies program for the shattering, murderous conflagration soon to get underway North of the border.

Not again update! Another day, another dumpster-dive for those poor Jarheads.

Marines Deployed To Another Third-World Country Full Of Hostile Foreigners
LOS ANGELES, CA — As has become the standard operating procedure for the military branch over the last half-century, 700 members of the United States Marines found themselves being deployed to yet another third-world country that is full of hostile foreigners.

In this latest deployment to a non-English-speaking wasteland, the Marines were supremely confident that they would be able to handle the marauding hordes of foreign nationals, despite the inhospitable conditions presented by the rubble and destruction of the surroundings.

“Same thing, different day,” said Sergeant Heath Parsons. “We know the drill. We train and prepare until the day when our number is called and we have to report to save the world by traveling to some third-world hell-hole to confront foreign hostiles. We’re used to it at this point.”

Though there had already been some skirmishes in which Marines clashed with the angry natives in the area, the presence of the U.S. Military had already had an impact on the war-torn region. “You can catch little glimpses of what this place used to be like,” said another Marine. “It’s part of our job as Marines, in addition to being prepared to fight, to bring a little bit of hope with us from the United States to show places like this what life can be like under better circumstances.”

Some of the foreigners cautiously welcomed the Marines, while others remained combative when faced with English-speaking Americans.

Well, it’s just that, out in the “press 2 for English” sectors of the FUSA, they run across so vanishingly few of the darn things, see. Puts them right out of their reckoning. “Exotic” doesn’t even begin to cover the idea of an American in LA who actually speaks the King’s English.

At publishing time, rumors persisted that the Pentagon was committed to eventually establishing a democracy in the area.

Shhhhyeeeaah, THAT’LL be the day. You’d have a tough time coming up with much more than, oh, eight or ten people—irrespective of ethnicity, nationality, income (if any) and/or educational level, citizenship status, gender, sexual orientation, etc etc who’d be willing to admit harboring even a passing interest in that ”democracy/liberty/prosperity” horsepuckey at this late date, I‘d guess. Well, except for the areas within, say, five-ten minutes’ walk of Ft Irwin, Camp Pendleton, Coronado, Miramar, Seal Beach, and El Centro, perhaps—haven’t been out to any of those places in a long while, but I can’t imagine that the old-time religion of abiding love of country, strong sense of duty and honor, the legacy of traditions and beliefs faithfully passed down from our Forefathers from generation to generation have all just quietly passed not just from existence but even from the memories of our young soldiers, sailors, airmen, and Marines. No way.

Then again, though, throw San Fransicko, San Berdoo, Compton, and Oakland into the mix with LA and it would probably be more than enough to tip the scales well back into Team Stalin territory and away from any more of that “democracy” nonsense for good.

Let’s not even go into the impact on this “democracy” discussion Cullyfornia’s military airfields; training bases; rifle, AGM, aerial bombing, and artillery ranges, as well as not-quite-as-venerable but every bit as proud, honorable installations such as Fort St George of Fentanyl, Camp Jordan Neely, and NAS “Bathhouse” Barry Soetero are likely to bring to bear when all’s said and done, ‘kay?

Funny ha-ha

Swiped this ‘un from our boy Ken, just ‘cuz it got a snicker out of grouchy old me.

Heh. Also, *snort, chortle!* On reflection, I suspect the main reason this groaner got me to giggling so was the reminder of how overjoyed I was back when Madeleine began to show the first early signs that her early-toddler-years fascination with godawful puns was beginning to wear off at last.

The Disruptors

A “mostly peaceful” assault against DHS head Kristi Noem by lunatic Dem Senator Alex Padilla—who is now whining that actually, you guys, HE was the real victim here.


Your obligatory “Show more” end run:

BREAKING: Secretary Kristi Noem fires back at Democrat Senator Alex Padilla — who’s now claiming mistreatment after storming a DHS press conference.

“I think his statement is actually ridiculous.”

She laid out exactly what happened from her perspective.

“This man burst into a room, started advancing towards the podium, interrupting an opening statement, elevating his voice, shouting questions.”

“People tried to stop him from interrupting the press conference, he refused and continued to lunge towards the podium and that is when he was removed from the room.”

Then came the reality check:

“So the way that he acted was completely inappropriate.”

“It wasn’t becoming of a U.S. Senator or a public official and perhaps he wanted the scene and that’s what he wanted.”

The rest of country is tired of these charades:

“But I think the American people are sick of this action.”

“I think the American people are tired of this, they just want the truth and they want to know it’s happening and that’s what we were trying to provide.”

Just remember: anyone attempting to govern against the will of the D卐M☭CRATs will pay a heavy price for their balls-out impudence.

Holy Mother of…?!?

So I go into the hospital for a cpl weeks, get cut, sawn, and stitched upon a bit, emerge a good bit the worse for wear, have to go back in for an encore performance, emerge thinking what the hell, Death CAN’T be THIS busy, can he? During this agonizing interregnum, natch, I avoided all things Innarnuts like the proverbial plague, knowing as I do that A) a thorough cleaning-out of the mental pipes is a good and necessary thing now and again, and B) my worn-out, Amazon’s Cheapest wired keyboard and mouse rig was due to give up the ghost at any moment.

When what to my wondering eyes did appear, upon my exit from Hospital Durance Vile and re-entry into what some poor deluded souls are pleased to kid themselves is the Real World, but a PayPal account that had, for reasons unknown to me, absolutely blown the fuck UP over the past weekend, rocketing from a running daily balance of, basically, zero (0) dollars and no (0) cents, up to a pretty hefty surplusage in nothing flat.

Pulled 40 bucks from the slush pile right away and headed back to the ‘Zon to see if a more satisfactory keyboard/mouse siuation might be arranged, whereupon I picked up this sweet little rig. Now all’s I gotta do is get used to the feel of the keyboard, which is definitely nowhere near as stiff and clunky as the old one was—with the added advantage that most, possibly even ALL, of the keys seem to work too. Yowza!

Many, many humble thanks to all you fine folks out there in Blogolandia, for all the many things you do and have always done for me over lo, these many years. Back to regular posting in a trice, soon as my head stops spinning like a spinning top.

The Daily Donnybrook, and other fine things

Welcome to Ye Aulde Colde Furye Blogge’s shiny new open-comments thread, where y’all can have at it as you wish, on any topic you like. New posts will appear below this one. There will be blood…

Mike @Substack


New Eyrie posts go up every Monday and Friday, although the time of day may (and most likely will) vary. Mike’s latest Eyrie offering is available for perusal here: “Screamin’ meemie Monday!” Links to archived Golden Oldies are findable down at the bottom of each post.

Please do consider subscribing to The Eyrie, gang; it’s free, unless you’re feeling big-heartec enough to kick in for a paid sub. Either way, paying customer or freeloading looky-loo, an Eyrie subscription is a bargain at any price, a move you’ll won’t ever regret mking.

All subscribers receive email notification whenever each new post goes live, although CF management promises not to blow up your inbox with a bunch of junk mail. Latest Eyrie offering is getatable (yes, that’s really a word—trust me!) for one and all to read and enjoy totally free of charge, regardless of subscriber status. However, a paid sub is required to unlock commenting privileges—an almighty incentive to kick loose and chip in if ever there was one. Thanks, everybody!

Recent Comments

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Inner workings

Of an administration that DIDN’T work, in any way, at any level.

Former White House Physician Drops Truth Bombs About Biden’s Health Cover-Up
During an appearance on Fox News’ “Sunday Morning Futures,” Rep. Dr. Ronny Jackson (R-Texas)—a man who served as White House physician for 14 years—dropped some major truth bombs that expose what may be the greatest constitutional crisis in modern American history.

Jackson is a doctor with 25 years of medical experience who witnessed the inner workings of multiple administrations firsthand. When he speaks about the cover-ups of Joe Biden’s cognitive decline, Americans should listen.

We’ve noted here at PJ Media that Biden brought Dr. Kevin O’Connor in as White House physician to help facilitate the cover-up of his cognitive decline, and Jackson believes this as well.

“Dr. O’Connor was his physician for eight years when he was vice president; he literally became part of the Biden family,” he said. But it gets worse. According to Jackson, O’Connor “was beloved by Jill Biden” and the Biden inner circle, developing such loyalty that “he would say or do anything that they ask him to do and cover up anything,” and that “they knew that they had somebody that could help cover up anything that might come up.”

This wasn’t about medical expertise—it was about ensuring silence.

Jackson warned that “we need to know, the American people need to know who was making decisions over those last four years. Who had access to that auto pen?”

The constitutional implications are staggering. As Jackson puts it, “If someone was running the country pretending to be the president of the United States and they weren’t, we need to know, and we need to make sure this never ever happens again.”

Best way to do that, of course, would be for Real Americans to hitch up their Big Boy britches, step up to the plate scaffold, and give their peers and like-minded colleagues most responsible for the Bribem Fiasco a real-time, up close and personal visual demonstration of what the phrase “pulling hemp” really, truly means. Failing that, we can only expect that this shit will go right on happening, again and again and again.

3
1

Neverending nightmare

Look for blogging to continue sluggish to non-existent here, folks, as I’ll be returning to the hospital tomorrow for yet more hacking off of vital body parts at the urgent behest of my physical-therapy nurse. To say I’m dreading this unwelcome encore like an ass-whupping would be a gross understatement; to say I’m the slightest bit happy about it would be a damnable lie. Back as quick as I can be, provided I live through this shite in the first place—by no means a given, I regret to say.

The biggest lie

Steyn runs it all down for us.

Like I said, it’s lies all the way down, and ever more brazen. But there is no bigger lie than that Joe Biden has ever been head of the executive branch: FDR was, albeit wheelchair-bound; Woodrow Wilson was, pre-stroke. But Joe was installed precisely because he was, as certain “niche Canadians” observed in 2021, the dead husk of a moth-eaten sock-puppet. There are approximately 8.2 billion people on the planet. We cannot say which of them was running the executive branch of the United States from January 2021 to January 2025 – Barack Obama? George Soros? Chairman Xi? Mabel Scroggins of 27b Town Dump Road, Dead Moose Junction? All we know for certain is that the one man among those 8.2 billion it surely wasn’t is Joseph Robinette Biden Jr.

In the scheme of things it doesn’t matter whether they’re using his prostate to distract from his dementia or vice-versa, the people who did this to you committed a crime. It is, to coin a phrase, “unconstitutional” to put a dead husk in the Oval Office and usurp his powers.

If you want to go on cable TV and debate whether Joe Biden’s prostate should be removed and replaced by Jake Tapper, fine, knock yourself out. If you’re excited because Tim Walz is already two points up in Iowa, great.

But the only thing that matters is:

Who was running the US government these last four years?

And why isn’t he in prison?

Excellent questions, those. Unfortunately, I got a powerful intuition we’ll be waiting a VERY long time before we get any answers, assuming we ever actually get any at all.

Inside the gates

Invaded, defeated, and subjugated at last, with nary a shot fired.

The Enemy Within: Muslim Migrants Who Keep Their Evil Ideology
Many Muslim illegal migrants who move to Western nations are happy to take welfare and benefit from our greater material prosperity yet retain their barbaric Islamic ideology. This is the enemy within.

Not all, of course, but too many Muslim immigrants to Western countries (especially the males) aim to turn those countries into Islamic sharia hellholes too. They import their misogyny, violence, hatred, and sexual perversion from their Muslim nations straight to their new homes. Take two recent stories, one from America and one from the UK.

Islamic sacred texts and biographies of Muhammad testify to the fact that he sexually consummated his marriage with little Aisha when she was only nine years old. Thus, child brides are not uncommon in a number of Muslim countries. And if one Islamic scholar has his way, that will be true in the U.S. too.

From MEMRI:

In a recent question and answers session following a Christian-Muslim debate held at North Carolina State University, North Carolina Islamic scholar Abdullah Khadra defended the Prophet Muhammad’s marriage to Aisha when she was still a child. In Islam it is understood that “you can marry a child, but you can never have a [physical] relationship with her until she is psychologically and physically able,” he said, adding that in some countries, girls reach maturity at a young age, and that “in our community [in the U.S.’]… we have girls in grade 5 who reach maturity, reach puberty.”

He further justified the practice by saying that historically, the age of marriage in the U.S. was once 9 years of age… “If a father is loving and wants to give his [underage] daughter in marriage to someone who is righteous – well, if the Prophet was here, everyone would love to do that, and give his daughter to the Prophet… It can be 9 years old, 8 years old.“

Bukhari 7.62.88 says, “The Prophet wrote the (marriage contract) with Aisha while she was six years old and consummated his marriage with her while she was nine years old and she remained with him for nine years.” Muhammad was reportedly 54 at the time.

Hence, some Muslim scholars and Sharia experts say there is no minimum age for a girl to be married. And of course rape and concubinage are also allowed in Islam. There’s no mystery as to why many European cities with large Muslim migrant populations suddenly see an increase in sexual crimes.

As you might expect, the UK example is if anything even more chilling, more blood-curdling, more obscenely repulsive, than the above passage—the UK perennially being about ten-fifteen years or so ahead of us down this glum, bitter road we’ve stupidly decided to tag along behind them on. Bottom line? Depressing as all hell.

Islam is inherently a religion wholly incompatible with ideals of freedom, equality, and rational justice. The West needs to wake up to that reality before it’s too late.

And there you have it, folks: the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

No Western nation dedicated, however half-assedly, to the lofty aspirational concepts of ordered liberty; equality of opportunity (not outcome); the rational administration of in the main impartial, practicality-oriented justice; and the uniquely American principle of a citizen’s right to be left the hell alone by meddlesome princes, potentates, kommissars, and overzealous authoritarian fanatics wittingly accepts the establishment of the pre-conditions necessary for Pisslam to flourish unchecked within its borders.

While any government may (or may not) freely choose to tolerate Islamic worship services for those desirous of participating in such ritual niceties, that government ought not to be granting any special dispensations, indulgences, or wink-nudge exemptions to its Moslem constituents based solely on his preferred religious practices and beliefs. Indeed, if said government hopes to survive intact for very long, it cannot, it must not. Through precisely such ill-advised moderation, tolerance, and forbearance—NONE of which fine and admirable qualities have Moslems ever been known to reciprocally extend to non-Moslem unfortunates trapped in their terrible thrall, not even once—do burgeoning, vibrant societies doom themselves to eventual extinction.

By the same token any Moslem, no matter how devout he might be, collared for violating American law—ANY law—must be duly indicted, tried, and if convicted punished—period, full stop, end of story. Under no circumstances should Islam, the Koran, or sharia ever be permitted to impinge upon US legal deliberations, debates, or official courthouse proceedings.

Yes, we can certainly tolerate Moslems living, praying, and worshipping among us without necessarily placing our lives, our society, and our very way of life itself in serious jeopardy—so long, that is, as they in turn will agree to keep

  • Their empty heads down
  • Their fat yaps shut
  • Their religious practices and preachifying peaceably contained within the thick stone walls of the local mosque
  • Their disrespectful bellyaching about America, Americans, Christians, Jews, “Palestine,” and modernity itself

…strictly to themselves and fellow like-minded Muzzrats. Not a comprehensive list, I reckon, but a good start all the same.

The great, big BUT you all doubtless knew was coming: You scraggly-ass primitives start in to raising any kind of ruckus in the name of the Pedophile Prophet of Allah the Munificent, All-Wise, All-Knowing, and All-Powerful, on the other hand, and that’s a wrap, we’re all done here—straight on back to Djibouti or Brunei or Yemen or wherethehellever with ye, Achmed. You, and your whole fam damily right along with ya, friend. In this game you’re only allowed one strike, then you are out. Just you try to sneak on back in here and just see what happens to you and yours, bub. I do hereby solemnly swear to you, on the graves of everybody I ever truly loved and/or cared for, that you won’t like it. Not even a little bit, you won’t.

Alas for stiff-upper-lipped Brit countryside village-dwellers who don’t live in or anywhere near London, Birmingham, Manchester, or Leicester, among other Moslem-overrun English municipalities (and wouldn’t dream of living in those places if you paid ‘em by the hour to), forever-loyal subjects of the now-tarnished Crown who proudly uphold the traditional Ainglish standards of living; speaking; recreating; puttering about in their tiny gardens; interacting with fellow Ainglishters—all of them stubbornly keeping the Old Faith right down to the old-fashioned names they bestow on their children (Tommy, Ian, Nigel, Constance, Penelope, Courtney Bigglesford-Smythe, or Pongo Twistleton-Twistleton, forsooth, as opposed to future Prime Minister and Chancellor of the Exchequer Amir al Hasan Malik ArglebarglehoooockPTOOEYDeathToAmerica—your bog-standard English half-a-wog born and reared in Old Blighty whose English pronunciations, sentence structure, and syntax somehow bear a heavy Paki-flavored accent but whose ingrained fondness for overstarched, wing-collar dress shirts; baggy pinstriped slacks in quiet grey, midnight blue, or basic black; eyeball-blisteringly white spats; and the obligatory monocle dangling from its delicate gold chain, left free to cheerfully slap to and fro against one side of his bespoke, tastefully-unpretentious waistcoat distinguishes him from his long-forgotten relatives hailing from the remote mountain-cave-homes of faraway Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa province).

The vast majority of England’s native populace having foolishly allowed themselves to grow weak, lazy, narcissistic, and complacent since the end of WW2, it’s already much too late for Once-Great Britain to save itself from the awful, ignoble destiny awaiting it under the unmerciful sway of its driven, focused, fanatical Moslem overlords. More alas and worse, this is likewise fastly becoming the situation on the ground in many parts of the FUSA as well: Dearborn, Buffalo, Minneapolistan, all too many others.

When a nation has so thoroughly auto-enfeebled itself via the poison-pill triumvirate of decadence, juvenile self-absorption, and loss of national purpose, pride, and will that it can no longer rouse itself to mount even a token resistance against a bold as brass, openly avowed threat of being imminently swept away into the briny deep by a powerful rip-tide of barbaric savages supremely disinterested in American history, customs, and values—whose sole interest in not only the US or UK but Western Civ from stem to stern is to see the whole kit and kaboodle fundamentally transformed (by hook, crook, spray ’n’ pray battle-rifle fusillades, wildly-careening rental straight-trucks running down—as if the unjustly-truncated lives of those poor victims of the Pisslamic murder-junkie mindset mattered no more than an average-sized suburban lawn’s worth of uncut crabgrass—casual strollers, sightseeing tourists, and other total innocents on sidewalks and/or traffic-snarled streets all over Europe), and the judicious placement of whacking great gobs of Semtex, C6, and/or TNT) into another archetypical Islamic shitpit, the pitiable denizens of which blighted hellhole to all be duty-bound under threat of torture and/or slow, agonizing death to 1) pore over, internalize, then act upon the loony-toony depredations spelled out in Mo-Mo the Mad Arab’s Bloody Li’l Murder Book; 2) to disseminate the teachings of Allah’s Chief Prophet as far and wide as possible; 3) lastly, to vigorously prosecute His Glorious jihad to its victorious conclusion—all and every of the world’s last remaining infidels to afterwards be crushed into a smooth, pinkish paste within the unforgiving mailed fist of sharia law, as expressly delineated in the Koran—primordial savages whose stolid faith in their own essential righteousness is so imperturbable they disdain any suggestion of disguising or downplaying their staggeringly abominable plans for the unworthy, grunting khuffir slobs the smelly schmatta ’n’ sandals-clad acolytes of the “Religion” Of Pieces are so intently hellbent on defeating, debasing, and bodily demolishing—what other result might a person realistically expect than humiliating defeat for all us lotus-eating curs whom Allah, in his illimitable wisdom, has condemned to eternal imprisonment in the dingy, dank dungeons of the Dar al Harb?

Sorry folks, I can proffer to y’all no happy ending for this decidedly discomfiting tale. Many long years spent fruitlessly thumbing through the numbing, tedious pages of the Koran, Surah, and Hadiths has led me to reluctantly conclude that no such animule exists, and in all likelihood never really did. The Pisslamic scriptures are uniformly chaotic, nonsensical, patently the boobyhatch scribblings of a seriously diseased mind. Over and over again, the pseudo-bibles twist back on themselves to unhelpfully revisit certain themes and/or fantastical ideas—a lackwit’s failed attempt to make sense of a thing in which there’s simply no sense to be found. They constantly contradict themselves throughout, and are basically just as dull as dull can be.

If you’ve never read them before, I cannot in good faith recommend that you do now, they’re for all intents and purposes completely worthless, and will neither enlighten nor entertain you. They’re disorganized, mind-numbing, as boring as boring gets. Verily, they’re utterly devoid of relevance and meaning to anyone and anything beyond that sorry passel of mouthbreathing Dark-Ages throwbacks most mulishly determined to conjure relevance and meaning where no such thing exists.

I’ve known only a cpl-three Moslems throughout my adult (!!) life, but without fail, every time I’d get into a thankfully brief, leisurely chit-chat about nothing much with them this was the thought I couldn’t keep from running through my mind the entire conversation: “My GOD, dude says he’s a Moslem! Without a blush, without a sorrowful shake of the head, a shrug of the shoulders, or one single whiff of embarrassment, he freely, knowingly owns up to it! He actually believes all that ridiculous twaddle in the Koran, he must do, how could he NOT believe it?!? How could any sane, even halfway intelligent person publicly admit to being as retarded as all that? Jeez O Pete, his shoelaces seem to be laced and tied correctly, his fly is zipped all the way up, his T-shirt isn’t on backasswards—did he have somebody else do that stuff for him or what? Lord a’mighty, oh please oh please ohpleasepleasepleasePLEASE, you gotta get me outta here! NOW, please!!”

Should some wet-brained Moslem ever enthusiastically commend these case-bound dumpster fires to your attention hoping that reading them might inspire you to convert, best thing for you to do is to run like the proverbial deer away from the sub-moron; any direction will do, until sufficient distance has been put between you that you can neither hear nor see the fucking imbecile anymore. Run, I say, run! Run like the wind, run like you really mean it, run like the po-leece were after you! Run like a lazy old hound-dog with a string of empty cans tied to his tail!! Run like your hair was on fire, run as if all the hounds of Hell were snapping at your heels!! Run fast, run far, keep on running ’til you just can’t run no more!!! Don’t look back, boy, just…RUN!!!!

However, I DO have a wee dram of advice for all concerned—to wit, MIKE’S IRON LAW OF EXISTENTIAL WARFARE: The enemy you don’t, or won’t, resist to the uppermost limits of your strength is the enemy which will ultimately defeat you.

And now, to add this latest MIL entry to the steadily-lengthening list on which it surely belongs.

Racism, straight up

Sick-making, that’s what.

Episcopal Church Refuses To Resettle White South African Refugees, Citing ‘Racial Justice’ Commitment
Episcopal Migration Ministries has long resettled refugees in the United States, but is now refusing to resettle white South Africans.

Presiding Bishop Sean Rowe announced the decision on behalf of Episcopal Migration Ministries on Monday, just a day after 49 South Africans began their journey to the United States.

Rowe went on to say that the organization, which has a long history of receiving federal grants to resettle refugees, will terminate their agreements with the government. “We have determined that, by the end of the federal fiscal year, we will conclude our refugee resettlement grant agreements with the U.S. federal government.”

President Donald Trump extended refugee status to white South Africans amid concerns that the minority group is being subjected to racial discrimination and has been scapegoated by politicians who’ve called for violence against them.

“South Africa is confiscating land, and treating certain classes of people VERY BADLY,” Trump said in a post on Truth Social in February. “It is a bad situation that the Radical Left Media doesn’t want to so much as mention. A massive Human Rights VIOLATION, at a minimum, is happening for all to see.”

The Trump administration announced an executive order just days later, offering white South Africans refugee status in the United States. The administration cited “hateful rhetoric and government actions fueling disproportionate violence against racially disfavored landowners,” as well as a new law that will “enable the government of South Africa to seize ethnic minority Afrikaners’ agricultural property without compensation.”

Controversy erupted after Julius Malema, a member of the National Assembly of South Africa, chanted “shoot to kill” and “kill the boer” at a political rally in reference to the Dutch South African population.

Funny, innit, how when it’s Whypeepuh being systematically stripped of their fundamental rights, possessions, and property; brutally beaten, raped, and murdered in job lots because reasons; and literally genocided by a vengeful, lawless government and the savage mobs it incites, Amerikan shitlibs seem to be either willfully blind to it, blandly indifferent, or actively in favor of it. Funny, but not in a “ha ha” kind of way.

But hey, at least those poor, unjustly oppressed Nee-grows now have the opportunity to prove themselves every bit as competent, deserving, and sensible as their deposed former masters, right? All they ever needed was the freedom to succeed, Oppressor! Now that de White Debbil’s boot has been removed from de Black Man’s neck at last, just watch dose Darkies soar!!

Ummmm. Well. About all that

South Africa black-owned farms ‘failing’
Some 90% of farms redistributed to South Africa’s black population from white farmers are not productive, the government has said.

Land reform minister Gugile Nkwinti warned the land might be repossessed if the farms continued to fail.

Almost 60,000 sq km (23,000 sq miles) have been redistributed under policies aimed at benefiting black people who were left impoverished by apartheid.

The BBC’s Pumza Fihlani in Johannesburg says some black farmers are likely to argue that they have been struggling to get the resources and skills to develop their land.

No worries; the global Handwringer Left sob-sisters will see to it they get their “resources” sure enough—completely free of charge, obligation, or expectation, again and again and again. Skills, on the other hand, will be another story altogether, or so I suspect. A sense of personal responsibility, duty, and the requisite “work ethic,” all left curiously unmentioned in the Beeb piece? Sorry, ain’t happening, not in a million bajillion years it ain’t. At least, it hasn’t over the last million bajillion years, at any rate; no reason to think that’s gonna change now just because certain Wokester idjits so desperately need for it to, so’s their cherished PC shibboleths don’t crash and burn right before their swollen, teary eyes, right?

Kipling saw the whole sorry mess coming long, long ago.

Take up the White Man’s burden—
And reap his old reward, 
The blame of those ye better,
The hate of those ye guard— 
The cry of hosts ye humour 
(Ah slowly!) toward the light— 
“Why brought ye us from bondage, 
“Our loved Egyptian night?”

Take up the White Man’s burden—
Ye dare not stoop to less—
Nor call too loud on Freedom
To cloak your weariness;
By all ye cry or whisper,
By all ye leave or do,
The silent sullen peoples
Shall weigh your Gods and you.

Take up the White Man’s burden—
Have done with childish days—
The lightly proffered laurel,
The easy, ungrudged praise.
Comes now, to search your manhood
Through all the thankless years,
Cold-edged with dear-bought wisdom,
The judgement of your peers.

Huh. That ain’t gonna make the aforementioned teary-eyed Wokester idjits feel any better either, I shouldn’t think. Worse, if anything—particularly that sinister “judgement of your peers” implication.

Free testicle installation

“Little Marco” Rubio: another more or less run of the mill, MOR Repugnicrat who suddenly found he had hisself a pair of heavy, clanking Big Brass Ones© swingin’ after taking a cabinet position in the Trump v2.0 admin.

MUST WATCH: Rubio Makes Van Hollen Look Like a Fool During Senate Hearing
Secretary of State Marco Rubio appeared before the Senate Committee on Foreign Relations on Tuesday morning. According to the State Department, he was there to discuss the FY26 Department of State Budget Request. Having watched most of the hearing myself, I think he was just there to have old white people and Cory Booker act like condescending jerks.

A few things stood out. One, some of these senators are incredibly ignorant about the way the world works outside of the United States and don’t need to be on any committee related to foreign policy. Two, Rubio is a thousand times smarter than most of these people put together — if it wasn’t so satisfying to watch, I’d be suffering from secondhand embarrassment for some of these senators after watching the secretary wipe the smug smiles off their faces with his facts and inability to be shaken.

But the exchange that stood out the most was the one between Rubio and Sen. Chris Van Hollen (D-Md.) — you know, the senator whom no one knew existed until he boarded a flight to El Salvador to wine and dine a human trafficker, wife-beater, and gang banger.

Rather than use his time to actually ask Rubio questions — even crazy Tim Kaine managed to actually do that — Van Hollen spent seven minutes berating the Secretary on everything from USAID to revoking visas from students with ties to terrorism and, of course, his favorite topic: Kilmar Abrego Garcia.

He even attacked Rubio personally. “I have to tell you directly and personally that I regret voting for you as Secretary of State,” he said at the end of his remarks.

Rubio — after asking committee chairman Sen. Jim Risch (R-Idaho) if he could respond, given that Van Hollen never actually asked a question — didn’t miss a beat. “Your regret voting for me confirms I’m doing a good job.”

Good as that is, it gets even better from there, if you can believe it. Marco Rubio is probably the last guy in the world I ever thought I’d say this about—meek, soft-spoken, and diffident as he’s always come across—but whatever he may or may not have been before, clearly Rejuve Rubio ain’t about to take a nickel’s worth of shit from anybody now, much less a slithering Swamp critter like Chris “Bend Me Over & Make Me Love It, Nancy” Van Hollen (D-Rumpswab). Who knew? Rubio went from “polite, pliable, pushover” to “full-bore firebrand, stay back from cage 20 ft” in zero (0) seconds flat.

Basically, then, this Van Hollen dimbulb made the classic rookie error of bringing a knife to a gunfight, whereupon “Little Marco” wasted not a single moment before implementing the appropriate countermeasures upside CVH’s punkin’ haid, to the delight of rubbernecking loafers, passersby, idlers, and avid, season ticket-holding fans of Team MAGA!™ alike. Well done, Secretary Rubio sir, well done indeed.

For CA

So after noting WRSA’s post of what has got be one of Bob Dylan’s best-ever compositions (nota bene: I am NOT, nor have I ever been, a huge fan of Dylan’s), it occurred to me that I really ought to return the favor with what I think to be a considerable one-up: what has got to be the most beautiful version of said composition you’re ever gonna hear.

Gorgeous, simply gorgeous, si? So gorgeous, in fact, that you can practically hear your heart breaking. As perfect an example of the soul-stirring power of truly good music as you could ever hope to hear, this one is—especially on that last verse, when the vocal harmony line joins in and transforms the song from “pure genius” to “choir of angels” levels of beauty. Everyone involved with this arrangement, performance, and recording ought to be damned proud of their work on it.

Trust Teh Science™, baybee!

Actual science, that is.

Ummm…ooooops. Oops, oops, oopsie! ‘Kay, so who wants to explain how all this works to this poor, pitiful freak and his/her/its mentally-disturbed Significant Other, anyhoo? Not me, I’m staying right the hell out of this one. Damn pesky “Y” chromosomes, always popping up at the most inconvenient possible moments this way.

“Accommodations for trans people,” no less. Sorry and all, but I’m afraid we’ve all seen WAY too much of that sort of thing by now as it is. Thanks for appearing in our broadcast studios with us today on The Science Doesn’t Lie, though. As a consolation, all contestants who fail to advance to the next round will receive the home version of our game, along with a gift certificate good for one (1) month’s delivery of delicious Domino’s Pizza, completely free of charge. Again: thanks for playing, everyone!

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CF Glossary

ProPol: Professional Politician

Vichy GOPe: Putative "Republicans" who talk a great game but never can seem to find a hill they consider worth dying on; Quislings, Petains, Benedicts, backstabbers, fake phony frauds

Fake Phony Fraud(s), S'faccim: two excellent descriptors coined by the late great WABC host Bob Grant which are interchangeable, both meaning as they do pretty much the same thing

Mordor On The Potomac: Washington, DC

The Enemy: shitlibs, Progtards, Leftards, Swamp critters, et al ad nauseum

Burn, Loot, Murder: what the misleading acronym BLM really stands for

pAntiFa: an alternative spelling of "fascist scum"

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FREEDOM!!!

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