Category: Big tsimmis

I can get worked up enough about this to blog about it, but not much more.

UNBELIEVABLE

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I haven’t words.

Ship sent ‘mayday’ warning before Baltimore bridge disaster as officials scrambled to halt traffic: ‘Saved lots of lives’
The container ship that smashed into the Francis Scott Key Bridge in Baltimore sent a “mayday” warning that it had lost power before the disaster, officials said Tuesday.

Quick-thinking authorities at the bridge were able to stop cars from crossing the 1.6-mile span, an act that “saved lots of lives,” Maryland Gov. Wes Moore said.

“The ship issued a mayday loss of power. The workers on the bridge halted traffic right before impact. They saved lots of lives,” Moore said at a press conference.

However, six people still remain missing after multiple vehicles plunged into the chilly waters of the Patapsco River as the bridge crumbled, its steel arches and roadway tumbling down.

Horrifying footage shows the bridge collapsing after the Dali, a Singapore-flagged vessel heading to Sri Lanka, crashed into the central part of the structure around 1:40 a.m. shortly after it left the Port of Baltimore.

The ship also caught fire, sending thick, black smoke billowing across the busy harbor.

There’s video, and it’s…unbelievable.


The vid at the NYPost website is bigger,  but offers no option to embed it here, so I went with the above one. I’ve driven/ridden across that very bridge myself only about, oh, eighty-bazillion times. Apparently, there was a construction crew on the bridge doing routine maintenance work at the time, all of whom are now presumably in the water.

I repeat: unbelievable. Even seeing the video footage, it’s tough to wrap the mind around this one. No real indication of terrorism so far, it appears to be just one of those freak accidents that occur once in a blue moon. But these days, who the fuck even knows anymore.

Update! Now, THIS I have no trouble believing at all.

I mighta known, eh?

Is Hillary Clinton now running Boeing or something?

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Well. Well, well, well, well, well, well, well, well, WELL.

Another day, another suspicious ‘suicide’
With each high-profile “suicide” that looks like anything but, I get these suspicions (apologies to Eddie Rabbit). It’s always the same basic story: obvious murder motive; hard-to-believe coincidences; a revisionist coroner who says it was suicide despite evidence to the contrary; the police who say they will leave no stone unturned but after the attention dies down say it was indeed a suicide; relatives and friends say the deceased had a zest for life and told them shortly before his untimely demise that if anything happens to him, it was not suicide.

The latest is Boeing whistleblower John Barnett, who, seven years after retiring from Boeing, where he had worked for 32 years as a quality control manager, was in the middle of giving a deposition in a retaliation lawsuit exposing serious safety problems with the 787 Dreamliner. From Newsmax:

“We understand the global attention this case has garnered, and it is our priority to ensure that the investigation is not influenced by speculation but is led by facts and evidence,” police said in a statement.

A coroner’s report said Barnett, 62, died from a “self-inflicted” wound, though a close family friend of Barnett’s told WCIV-TV, “I know he did not commit suicide.”

“He wasn’t concerned about safety because I asked him,” the friend said. “I said, ‘Aren’t you scared?’ And he said, ‘No, I ain’t scared, but if anything happens to me, it’s not suicide.’”

The person added: “I know that he did not commit suicide. There’s no way. He loved life too much. He loved his family too much. He loved his brothers too much to put them through what they’re going through right now.”

Follows, a non-comprehensive list of super-hinky supposed self-offings.

Does any sentient human being really believe that Jeffrey Epstein, who could have brought down not only many rich and famous people, but also many important politicians, committed suicide shortly after saying he wouldn’t; when the night he died, the prison guards were AWOL and the cameras aimed at his cell door just happened not to work; the damage to his neck was not compatible with self-hanging, etc.? What about Seth Rich, the one who likely released the DNC emails, who had a wallet full of cash on him despite his death allegedly being a robbery (later called “botched”); the two mysterious figures caught on video who killed him being given about as much attention by the authorities as the one who planted the fake pipe bombs around the Capitol; the FBI denied having files on him but then later had to admit it did even at the time it said it didn’t (i.e., lied); etc.? What about Mark Middleton, affiliated with both the Clintons and Epstein, who committed double-suicide: a gun blast through his chest while hanging from a tree by his neck with an electric cord around it, with no gun found in proximity to the body? In the above link you can read the deputy sheriff’s report, which doesn’t address the obvious problems. If you question even this suicide, you’re a conspiracy theorist.

There are many more “suicides” where these came from.

Because of COURSE there are.

Behind the scenes nuts ‘n’ bolts

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Charlie Kirk provides them, on the Kyle Rittenhouse speech canceled by Goose-steppin’ Leftists.


For those who don’t want to bother with the annoying “Show more” link, Ace has helpfully posted a transcript.

The school has gone to incredible lengths to hamstring this event, including:

1 – Forcing us to change our ticketing system the day of the event. The university’s excuse is they want to ensure “fair and equitable” ticketing. This means the hundreds of students who thought they had tickets will not get in. This has never happened at one of our events.

2 – Protester groups were somehow tipped off about the school’s new ticketing system and the timing of when they’d be made available, allowing them to reserve large numbers of tickets to stage a walk out. We know this because our students are also in those group chats and alerted us. This also has never happened before.

3 – We had thousands of people register for tickets to this event, but the school would only give us a venue with 330 seat. No overflow. No larger venue.

4 – Our chapter president has been doxxed with his number and address published on social media. The campus police and school administrator shrugged their shoulders.

5 – The administration has said they cannot step in or ask protesters to leave if they attempt to disrupt the event or shout down Kyle.

6 – The school has allowed into the event the student that doxxed our chapter president, knowing this person was responsible for the doxxing.

7 – The protestors have entered the event and are taping the names of the people involved in Kyle Rittenhouse’s legal defense. The school is not stopping them.

This is what happens when school administrators pander to petulant children. You get chaos. Our brave students will press forward but this is unacceptable, especially in a Tennessee.

Memphis had record homicides last year, but apparently our students and Kyle Rittenhouse are the problem for the University of Memphis.

Ace also offers a little follow-on commentary:

Don’t worry, though: The violent suppression of speech by street paramilitaries tacitly supported by the ruling Regime, which will not be punished precisely because the Regime sponsors their violent actions, poses no threat to democracy whatsoever.

Only Trump saying “pussy” does.

Heh. Well, actually, it’s true that it poses no threat to the Goose-steppin’ Left’s version of “democracy,” yeah. Just, y’know, icky, deplorable, gun-loving Reichwingnut NaziHitlers like us, that’s all. Which provides some insight into why the Founding Fathers all hated and feared “democracy” so intensely.

Sometimes, it seems kinda hard not to look forward to the frabjous day when it’s finally time to start shooting the bastards, I admit.

Squatters rights

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“Vigilantes”? Hardly, seems to me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Notes from the Goolag

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The straight skinny from newly-minted FederalGovCo dissident/political prisoner Peter Navarro.

Navarro’s message from federal prison
Democrats have turned lawfare into a coarse art

As you read this, I have entered a federal prison. I am the first senior White House adviser ever to go to jail for a “crime” never before considered to be a crime, yet there are really two bigger stories for the American people to ponder.

The first story is about the death of the constitutional separation of powers and the demise of executive privilege that, since the days of George Washington, has helped facilitate effective presidential decision-making. The second is about the alarming success of lawfare and the partisan weaponization of our now dual system of justice.

Regarding story one, during a dispute over the Jay Treaty, President George Washington stood before Congress and said that to preserve the constitutional separation of powers, he could not command congressmen to come to the White House. Nor could Congress compel him to go before Congress. Thus, the doctrine of executive privilege was born.

Over the decades, through legal decisions and opinions, both the Supreme Court and the Department of Justice would zealously defend executive privilege as a bulwark of effective presidential decision-making. Without the insurance of confidentiality among and between the president and his advisers, he would not receive the best advice possible.

With my imprisonment, the constitutional separation of powers has been severely damaged while the doctrine of executive privilege lies smoldering on the ground. The only hope for a resurrection will be success on my appeal, which is now traveling through the Federal Appeals Court in the District of Columbia and then, inevitably, to the Supreme Court.

To be clear, U.S. v. Peter K. Navarro is a landmark case in constitutional law that raises significant “open questions” of “first impression” that cry out for the settling of good law by the higher courts.

I find your naive, child-like faith in Amerika v2.0’s courts…touching, Mr Navarro.

Navarro, to his credit, doesn’t seem to be quite as naive as all that, though. Emphasis on QUITE.

While it is true that Chief Justice John Roberts had the last word in denying my appeal, my search engines say that he votes with the liberal judges about 40% of the time and in recent years, he has moved further left.

The one lesson I’ve learned from Chief Justice Roberts’ coup de grace is that it is dangerous for one man alone to be allowed to decide another man’s fate, particularly when the stench of politics is in the air. Justice here would have been far better served if the chief justice had referred this issue to the whole court, which was clearly in his power to do.

And yet. Navarro goes on from there to sprinkle some fairy-dust regarding Congressional subpoenas, “elections,” and other such too-hopeful folderol. Myself, I can only say that I strongly suspect poor Mr Navarro is going to be stuck in the Greybar Hotel for a lot longer than he seems to imagine.

(Via Ace)

Days that will live in infamy

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Both of these bitter anniversaries tremendous losses for America That Was and all who loved her and now lament her death—murder, actually. First up, probably the most outrageous, destructive trampling of liberty in all of US history.

15 Days to Slow the Spread
This story first appeared in 1600 Daily, the White House’s evening newsletter. Subscribe now to get breaking news from President Trump before anyone else.

This afternoon, President Trump and the White House Coronavirus Task Force issued new guidelines to help protect Americans during the global Coronavirus outbreak.

The new recommendations are simple to follow but will have a resounding impact on public health. While the President leads a nationwide response, bringing together government resources and private-sector ingenuity, every American can help slow the virus’ spread and keep our most high-risk populations safe.

Leslie Eastman offers a few salient points.

This is the vital point: The announcement and associated policies were suppose to be about slowing the spread…not stopping it cold. The idea was that the virus’ effects on the respiratory system were so bad, that slowing the spread was imperative to get the medical resources into position so the healthcare system could handle (it).

I would like to note that two weeks earlier, I was growing concerned about the nature of the Trump administration’s response to the virus. I urged the implementation of the severe flu protocol that had been successfully used in years previously. I also highlighted risk factors for severe infection that could only be addressed on an individual basis.

Subsequently, “15 days to Slow the Spread” morphed into a liberty-crushing horror with impacts that we are still feeling across the nation (and in many other parts of the world).

Now, the nation is facing the choice between the two top candidates:

  • Trump, who foisted Dr. Anthony Fauci and Dr. Deborah Birx on this country.
  • Biden: The senile occupant of the Oval Office who mandated the vaccines and prolonged the pandemic response.

Personally, one part of my decision-making will be based on which candidate will not repeat the mistakes in the covid response…and avoid entangling this nation with the World Health Organization’s “Pandemic Treaty“.

I will never forget March 16, 2020.

Nor should you, nor should any of the truly liberty-oriented among us. Next, another costly loss, one which, in its own small way, might almost be considered as badly damaging to Real American prospects as the ScamDemic stampede has been.

Hushed Limbaugh
How did this nation ever get to the point where a man once considered nothing more than a tacky, loud, nouveau-riche liberal NYC real estate mogul/celebrity, with an orange complexion and a crazy pompadour/combover, would be transmogrified into the ultimate scapegoat for the failings, crimes, and corruption that have plagued our government and society since at least the end of the Second World War; the locus and symbol of the most unbridled hatred by the very same global elite that, in point of fact, are guilty of those sins and that he once perhaps was a part of? If I had to venture a guess, I’d say in nearly the same manner as “just some guy in golf pants” (as he once described how the elites tagged him) who at one time happened to have the largest sustained radio audience in history.

Last week marked the third anniversary of Rush Limbaugh passing away after a yearlong battle with terminal lung cancer. In a career that spanned nearly a third of a century, Limbaugh become far and away the most listened-to talk radio host in broadcast history. The conventional wisdom, which is something that Limbaugh defied on a daily basis, was that he had some sort of Svengali-like appeal over masses of mostly white, male, Bible-thumping bumpkins from flyover country by telling them what to think. In point of fact, it was just the opposite. Limbaugh’s success was being able to articulate what a vast swathe of the nation felt—a well-founded angst about the direction of the country especially since the beginning of the Clinton years and for sure with everything in the wake of the 9/11/01 attacks.

Last week marked the third anniversary of Rush Limbaugh passing away after a yearlong battle with terminal lung cancer. In a career that spanned nearly a third of a century, Limbaugh become far and away the most listened-to talk radio host in broadcast history. The conventional wisdom, which is something that Limbaugh defied on a daily basis, was that he had some sort of Svengali-like appeal over masses of mostly white, male, Bible-thumping bumpkins from flyover country by telling them what to think. In point of fact, it was just the opposite. Limbaugh’s success was being able to articulate what a vast swathe of the nation felt—a well-founded angst about the direction of the country especially since the beginning of the Clinton years and for sure with everything in the wake of the 9/11/01 attacks.

He, more than any other political and cultural leader, held both a moral high ground and most crucially a bully pulpit that gave voice to a true silent majority. In examining the life and times of Limbaugh, as well as the gigantic sword of Damocles above Donald Trump’s head, and collectively whatever is left of the United States as we knew or imagined it, a bit of reflection on how we got here, or to coin a phrase, how we—or at least I—got “woke” to the world as it is, is in order.

Although he passed just as the three years-plus FauxVid dumpster fire was really starting to blaze, Limbaugh was astute enough to see what was coming well beforehand.

I’m watching this coronavirus thing, and even the media that you would think would be on whatever we would call “our side,” they’ve lost it too. To them, this is nothing more than a story, and they can’t wait. I mean, everybody is waiting for the next worst headline, the next worst scenario, the next worst possibility. They can’t wait for it and they can’t wait to report it, and they can’t wait to talk about it. And that’s not me.

I resent this. I could never be a journalist. And these people, they’re a pack now. And I don’t care what network you’re talking about or website—there might be some exceptions to websites. Can’t read ’em all, don’t know. But you can’t turn on TV without seeing the same thing on any network. It doesn’t matter what network it is during the news coverage portion. Not so much the opinion programs and prime time. But the news coverage portion.

I mean, it’s now conventional wisdom that the country’s gonna shut down. It’s conventional wisdom that 150 million people are gonna get infected. It’s conventional wisdom that this is deadly, it’s the worst thing that’s ever happened, oh my God. It’s horrible. It’s worse. And nobody’s ever had it as bad or worse. And everybody gets caught up in it. As I watch the media, I don’t see one doubting Thomas. I don’t know how you do that.

JJ notes well the date of this tragically prescient analysis.

That was on March 13, 2020, literally just as the ChiCom/Anthony Fauci-created COVID-19 was just starting to swamp us. Or as Limbaugh seems to have clearly understood, the artificially generated fear of it. We now know, or at least we should know, that it was all one massive lie; from its origins, to its lethality, to the at-best uselessness to at-worst lethality of the vaccines. Yet anyone who back then stepped up and claimed the mantle of a “doubting Thomas” faced destruction.

America, the land of the First Amendment, has now openly toyed with the notion of “Disinformation Governance Boards,” a fancy name for what is essentially a Ministry of Truth. Universities that were supposed to be bastions of the free exchange of diverse viewpoints now silence anyone and anything even a micrometer to the right of Leon Trotsky. Our government is working hand in hand with Big Tech to have them act as censors for ideas, opinions, and facts that run contra to the narrative that they are putting out as truth, to be accepted blindly and unquestioningly without examination or critical review.

The only reason this is happening is because they no longer have a monopoly on the dissemination of information. Lacking that, as everything they have done to this country that has utterly collapsed our economy, erased our border, endangered our citizens at home, and threatened our national security abroad nearly to the point of a global conflict, the junta has no compunction about completely ignoring even the most basic red lines of ethics, morality, and the rule of law to silence all critique and squash all political opposition.

It’s academic as to whether or not we would have come to this point without the coming of alternative media to question the narrative, or what Limbaugh described as “the daily soap opera.” If nothing else, the mere presence of Rush Limbaugh and then Donald Trump has forced the junta to reveal itself for what it is, not for what their erstwhile media gatekeepers used to be able to bamboozle the public with ease. Trump’s greatest achievement as president isn’t actually what he achieved policy-wise (and they were some of the most incredible achievements ever); it was his mere presence as an oppositional force to the hypocrisy and corruption of the past eighty years that caused the masks and illusions of an America that no longer exists to drop. And there couldn’t have been a Donald Trump without a Rush Limbaugh to pave the way.

Mega dittos owed and mega dittos given.

Indeed so, with whipped cream and a cherry on top. May Rush Limbaugh forever rest in peace, much though it must pain him to look down from Heaven upon all that’s transpired since he departed this Earthly plane. Although I admittedly had problems with him over the years—enough so that by the time he died I’d long since stopped listening to him altogether, out of sheer frustration—it’s to our incalculable detriment that we shan’t ever see his like again.

Update! The Panic, and the damage done.

Four years ago, Las Vegas’ casinos shut down for 78 days. The fallout was brutal
About a month after casinos in Macao were closed for 15 days to slow COVID’s spread, then-Gov. Steve Sisolak on March 17, 2020 ordered all casinos as well as restaurants, bars and other nonessential businesses in the state to close for 30 days.

Brendan Bussmann, a gaming industry analyst with Las Vegas-based B Global, recalled the dark start of the shutdown.

“I still remember driving the Strip the next morning and there was nobody there and it either looked like we were occupied or that a bomb had gone off,” he said.

As a result of the 78-day closure, the Nevada Gaming Control Board estimated Nevada’s 219 major casinos lost $6.2 billion, a 25.2 percent decline from revenue generated a year earlier.

An estimated 26,140 people from a workforce of 162,066 lost their jobs and the unemployment rate soared to 33.4 percent. With demand for travel to Las Vegas lost, airlines canceled hundreds of flights.

As Ed quips, the operative words here might be—should be, in fact MUST be—THEN-Governor. Or, as a Fremen oath from Frank Herbert’s sprawling sci-fi epic Dune has it: Never to forgive. Never to forget. Damned skippy.

“Dear progressives, this is why we hate you”

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Lincoln Brown offers an open letter of explanation.

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

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

Which brings us to Natalie Castillo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As somebody or other once said:

In your FACE, Normie!

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Stridently, obnoxiously “queer” online newsragazine Them whines like a little bitch.

Lady Gaga Stands Up for Dylan Mulvaney: “Hatred Is Violence”

And so, right out of the gate we know how utterly full of horseshit of the purest ray serene they are. Wanna learn how stark the difference is between “hatred” and violence is, fucktards? Go on Fucking Around as you are and you’ll surely Find Out sooner or later. Get the hell out of our faces, on the other hand, and we’ll be perfectly happy to stay out of yours.

On Monday, March 11, Gaga shared a post of her own featuring a photo of herself and Mulvaney, writing, “It’s appalling to me that a post about National Women’s Day by Dylan Mulvaney and me would be met with such vitriol and hatred.”

“When I see a newspaper reporting on hatred but calling it ‘backlash’ I feel it is important to clarify that hatred is hatred, and this kind of hatred is violence,” the singer-songwriter continued. “‘Backlash’ would imply that people who love or respect Dylan and me didn’t like something we did. This is not backlash. This is hatred.”

Gaga noted that while this response is unfortunately “not surprising,” she feels protective of Mulvaney and the larger trans community “who continues to lead the way with their endless grace and inspiration in the face of constant degradation, intolerance, and physical, verbal, and mental violence.”

“May we all come together and be loving, accepting, warm, welcoming,” she added. “May we all stand together and honor the complexity and challenge of trans life — that we do not know, but can seek to understand and have compassion for. I love people too much to allow hatred to be referred to as ‘backlash.’ People deserve better.”

Anybody else besides me good and goddamned sick of being endlessly lectured about what hard-core Leftists think they “deserve”? Of their intentional, casual distortion of the sun-bright distinctions between “hatred,” “violence,” and “genocide”? Divemedic spells it out clearly and concisely, in such a fashion as permits no misunderstanding whatever.

So if a man says he is a woman, and you use objective reality to disagree with him, you have just committed violence against him. Why are they saying this?

So they can justify the actual violence that they are about to use in eliminating you. Make no mistake, this is the attitude that they will use to come after you, to unperson you, deny you services, and place you into reeducation camps. You will deserve it in their minds, because you called Dylan Mulvaney a ‘he’ instead of a ‘she’ while not allowing him to celebrate being a woman.

Annnnnd bingo, there you have it. Jump back and get over yourselves, you stupid, lying sissymarys. Scree scree scree as you will about what you do and do not “deserve”; we see through your silly game, and aren’t gonna dance to your shrill, rancid tune anymore. Period, full stop, end of fucking story. You, along with every other hoomon on Earth, “deserve” exactly, precisely nothing whatsoever you haven’t worked hard to earn, and that’s flat.

If you don’t believe it, try this little experiment: shag your sorry ass on out to the middle of the Gobi desert, sit down on a dune, and wait for a benevolent, caring universe to present you with all those wonderful things you insist you “deserve” thanks purely to being another useless eater and little or nothing else besides. Assuming you survive—PRO TIP: you won’t—you’ll emerge from the experience knowing at long last all about what you “deserve”—a real FAFO lesson you won’t soon forget.

Update! In his magisterial Starship Troopers, the peerless Robert Anson Heinlein explicates the basic principle at issue here far above my poor power to add or detract. From Chapter Eight’s recounting of the course of classroom instruction under the redoubtable, unforgettable COL DuBois:

“The basis of all morality is duty, a concept with the same relation to group that self-interest has to individual. Nobody preached duty to these kids in a way they could understand — that is, with a spanking. But the society they were in told them endlessly about their ‘rights.’

“The results should have been predictable, since a human being has no natural rights of any nature.”

Mr. Dubois had paused. Somebody took the bait. “Sir? How about ‘life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness’?”

“Ah, yes, the ‘unalienable rights.’ Each year someone quotes that magnificent poetry. Life? What ‘right’ to life has a man who is drowning in the Pacific? The ocean will not hearken to his cries. What ‘right’ to life has a man who must die if he is to save his children? If he chooses to save his own life, does he do so as a matter of ‘right’? If two men are starving and cannibalism is the only alternative to death, which man’s right is ‘unalienable’? And is it ‘right’? As to liberty, the heroes who signed that great document pledged themselves to buy liberty with their lives. Liberty is never unalienable; it must be redeemed regularly with the blood of patriots or it always vanishes. Of all the so-called ‘natural human rights’ that have ever been invented, liberty is least likely to be cheap and is never free of cost.

“The third ‘right’? — the ‘pursuit of happiness’? It is indeed unalienable but it is not a right; it is simply a universal condition which tyrants cannot take away nor patriots restore. Cast me into a dungeon, burn me at the stake, crown me king of kings, I can ‘pursue happiness’ as long as my brain lives — but neither gods nor saints, wise men nor subtle drugs, can insure that I will catch it.”

Far as I’m concerned, nobody’s ever said it better, either before or since. Yet another reason I’ve always maintained that anybody who hasn’t read and closely considered Heinlein’s stuff really, really needs to.

Updated update! Since they bear such uncanny relevance to our situation today, it would be grossly remiss of me not to include Chapter Eight’s penultimate ‘graphs.

“Mr. Dubois then turned to me. “I told you that ‘juvenile delinquent’ is a contradiction in terms.

“‘Delinquent’ means ‘failing in duty.’ But duty is an adult virtue — indeed a juvenile becomes an adult when, and only when, he acquires a knowledge of duty and embraces it as dearer than the self-love he was born with. There never was, there cannot be a ‘juvenile delinquent.’ But for every juvenile criminal there are always one or more adult delinquents — people of mature years who either do not know their duty, or who, knowing it, fail.

“And that was the soft spot which destroyed what was in many ways an admirable culture. The junior hoodlums who roamed their streets were symptoms of a greater sickness; their citizens (all of them counted as such) glorified their mythology of ‘rights’…and lost track of their duties. No nation, so constituted, can endure.”

And so, unsurprisingly to Heinlein devotees, it hasn’t.

Flattery

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The “virtual lifestyle”

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Is compromised all to Hell and gone, fraught with risks and hazards we know not of, but dismiss or ignore at our direst peril.

The planet seems to have some teleological drive to save itself, a kind of immune system. Notice: in all the ongoing debates about the wonders and dangers of A-I, and Bitcoin, and suffocating surveillance, nobody ever talks about the sketchy condition of the electric grid that all these worrisome phenomena utterly rely on. In our chatter over Peak Oil, there’s little awareness of oil production’s utter dependence on steady capital flows. In all the guff about centralized control emitted by Klaus Schwab and his World Economic Forum, there’s no mention of the centrifugal forces driving human affairs to re-localization, dis-aggregation of large states, and down-scaling of many activities. In our zeal to become Gods, we miss a lot.

Imagine: Bitcoin shoots up to a million dollars. You’re a zillionaire! Uh Oh…somewhere outside Zaneseville, Ohio, a squirrel takes a final chaw through some old insulation on a wire coming out of a transformer. His head blows up in a blue arc flash, and in a few seconds all the electricity goes out from Chicago to Boston. It turns out that seventeen substations in ten states have blown relays, transformers, and switchgear. Some of those components were forty years old and are now manufactured twelve thousand miles away in a country that doesn’t like us anymore. The replacement parts get held up in a Chinese port. The power doesn’t come back on for weeks. Nobody who lives in the eastern USA can get to his Bitcoin wallet, which is just a virtual entity made of computer code residing in a digital “cloud,” i.e., nowhere real.

Of course, in an event that bad, a lot of other things would fail — really just about everything that comprises modern life — but for sure you could kiss your Bitcoin goodbye, perhaps forever, because by the time the juice comes back on (if it even does), nobody will ever again want to invest their wealth in digital “money” they can’t access, and Bitcoin will go back to whence it came: zero.

Likewise, the financial system we depend on is a gigantic apparatus grown extremely janky from over-elaboration and hyper-complexity — to the degree that all kinds of things denoted as having “moneyness” are simply hallucinations of the markets that trade them. How many quadrillions of dollars do “derivative” financial instruments represent on the landscape of “money” these days? Most of these things amount to little more than bets that some number — an interest rate, a currency, a revenue flow — will change either up or down. That is, they are figments.

Bitcoin has gone “hockey stick” the past month, meaning on a chart the move up looks nearly vertical. Do you know why it’s going up? I’ll tell you: it’s going up…because it’s going up. People and groups of people (wealth funds, banks) see the up-trend and deduce that Bitcoin is going “to the moon.” Meanwhile, they view the tea leaves of the currency scene and see a lot of brown, crumbly debris where there used to be “capital.” The money itself is losing its “moneyness” all over the place. The most vulnerable module of the system now is the bond market.

Many sentient beings viewing the scene warn us that the bond market is liable to blow, and with it most of the other modules in the current MMT-driven system. That will be the magic moment when a big theory gets disproven rather vividly and injuriously. The price of everything will vaporize in a mushroom cloud of malinvestment and when the dust settles — which might take a long time — everything will be priced differently, including many things to zero.

This is the kind of world we’re in now, and all this is why I don’t worry quite so much about the machinations of the various blobs that have self-assembled to defend their particular special interests while doing harm to many of us: the military-industrial blob, the censorship blob, the fake news blob, the intel blob, the corporate monopoly blob, the medical blob, the central banking blob. The systems we depend on to make all things blobish function are looking pretty ill, like they’re not going be working a whole lot longer.

Unlikely though it may seem, the tale has a happy ending (of sorts), which you’ll want to click on over to read.

WHOA, big fella

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Somebody really, really needs to sit The Donald down for a serious talk about this. It’s a severe mistake he’s making, one that’s highly likely to come back and bite him on the ass good and hard before all is said and done.

Supporters Blast Trump on Truth Social After He Takes Credit For COVID Jabs
Former President Trump is facing fierce blowback from his own supporters on his social media platform after taking credit for the vaccines that “saved us” from COVID-19.

Trump posted a “live, play by play” of Joe Biden’s State of the Union speech Thursday night to Truth Social, blasting his remarks on a number of issues and describing the address as “angry” and “polarizing.”

At one point in the speech, Biden boasted that the “vaccines that saved us from COVID are now being used to beat cancer, turning setback into comeback.”

PRO TIP: If Faux Jaux Biden is praising a thing to high Heaven, then no sensible, decent soul ought to touch said thing with a barge pole—verbally, bodily, or as part of some fleeting, idle daydream, purely in his head. Period, full stop, end of story.

Trump responded to Biden’s remarks on Truth Social.

“’The Pandemic no longer controls our lives. The Vaccines that saved us from COVID are now being used to help beat Cancer – Turning setback into comeback!’” Trump wrote, quoting Biden. “YOU’RE WELCOME, JOE, NINE MONTH APPROVAL TIME VS. 12 YEARS THAT IT WOULD HAVE TAKEN YOU!”

The post was considered problematic for several reasons.

Since the COVID mRNA shots were rolled out, western nations have been dramatic increases in myocarditis, blood clots, neurological disorders, and many other previously rare ailments.

Cancer rates, alarmingly, have also risen exponentially and researchers think they have discovered why.

Last April, Microbiologist Kevin McKernan, a former researcher for the Massachusetts Institute of Technology Human Genome Project, discovered the presence of DNA contaminants in the products, which can affect unintended parts of the body and lead cancer, including mesotheliomas, lymphomas and cancers of the brain and bone.

Many of Trump’s own supporters are very aware of these links between the mRNA jabs and the increase in excess deaths in the United States and don’t believe that “Operation Warp Speed” is anything to brag about.

That’s because it’s, y’know, NOT.

Most of these commenters indicated that they still support the former president, but voiced dismay that he continues to promote the COVID jabs.

“Mr. President…Please stop promoting these vaccines. They are killing and injuring 1000s of us,” one follower wrote on Truth Social. “I fully believe they are causing the uptick in cancers. I fully support you on everything except vaccines! With all due respect…it’s a hard NO for me sir!”

“I stand with you on most things but DISAGREE COMPLETELY ON THIS! The #DeathJab MURDERED MY FATHER AND 20+ of my friends!” another supporter wrote.

“Sir, please drop the vax. There is more evil and ill wrapped around the vax. The bad actors behind it must be held to account. I believe you were fooled and have not seen nor understand what has been done,” a commenter wrote respectfully.

“I love and support you on most issues, but I strongly disagree on this one. The covid vaccines are NOT safe, Mr. President. Please do more research!” one woman advised.

Some Truth Social users were not as polite.

Trump stopped bragging about the COVID shots at his rallies in 2022 after he was repeatedly booed by his own supporters. 

On X, lawyer Viva Frei, a Canadian Trump supporter, said the blowback against the former president is justified.

That’s because it, y’know, IS.

Of all Trump’s mistakes as President—yes, there were indeed a good few, starting with his puzzling, uncharacteristic failure to make good on his oft-repeated campaign pledge that he would “hire only the best people”—passively allowing Deep State homunculus Fauci and the rest of his perfidious band of grant-grubbing FederalGovCo rumpswabs, charlatans, and white-smocked hangers-on stampede him on the Plandemic hoax/panic and the follow-on fake-Vaxx fiasco has to rank way up high among the verymost devastating of them. Even some on Our Side, including quite a few who had been solid Trump supporters right along, have been calling it “the Trump vaccine” for a goodish while now, which appellation is NOT to be taken as in any way, shape, or form complimentary.

Never having been the kind of man for whom admitting error comes easily, doing so here would be an especially bitter pill for Trump to swallow, or so I’d imagine. Nevertheless, he does himself no favor by continuing to resist owning up fully and frankly as all the facts about this grievous national catastrophe emerge, rather than hitching his big-boy britches up and just getting it over with. He’ll be forced to do so one way or another, and the sooner he bites the bullet and puts the whole sordid mess behind him the better off he’s going to be, in all sorts of ways.

Surely there must be someone in Trump’s inner circle that has his ear and is possessed of balls, integrity, reputation, and self-assurance enough to discreetly pull Da Boss aside for what senior NCO-types used to call “a real no-shitter” on this situation. If so, he will win immediate renown amongst his Team Trump confrères as “the man who saved Trump from himself,” as well he should.

Boer insurrection, Boer inspiration

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A little history well worth paying attention to.

Fight or flight? A question facing Americans today – to recoil from the cities, from institutions, from society or to fight. It is a question the Boers also faced when the British gained control of South Africa in 1806.

For half a century the ununified, individualistic Boers, who just wished to just be left alone, fled. That is until the First Boer War in 1880 when for the first time, the Boers decided not to run from British oppression but to fight.

Their longing for freedom reignited – their passive resistance came to an end. Fed up with the British violating their treaties, the Boer leaders unified and declared Transvaal independent. 

When British reinforcements entered Transvaal they were met by commandos who informed them they were trespassing, and to continue on would be casus belli. Disregarding the threat, the British troops took up arms and were quickly massacred, beginning the First Boer War. 

Over the next month, the British under the command of Sir George Colley would attempt to relieve the besieged forts in Transvaal and would face defeat at every turn. The redcoats were no match for the superior marksmanship and guerilla warfare of the hardened Boers.

The story of the Boers is one that is relatable not just to the pioneers, the Irish or anyone else that fled their home in search of a better life and freedom, but of us, as Americans, today. We are at a crossroads. 

We can flee and build new, with the hope of keeping the long arm of the “empire” at bay, or we can turn and fight. We can work to take back our cities, our institutions, our culture. Unified, working towards to same goal, we can begin chipping away.

While the Boers waited until the only solution was to take up arms, we are blessed to have other options to prevent our children, our families and our communities from the horrors of war in our backyards. The answer is not to flee, but to unify and dig in. 

As y’all know, I’m much less sanguine about those “other options” than the author is, but I could easily be wrong about that…and pray to God that I am. One thing I think we can all agree on: hoping to be “just left alone” hasn’t worked out very well for us, as is almost always the case when a cozened, insufficiently-vigilant populace has permitted tyranny to take root and flourish.

Juiced up

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Wow. I mean, just, like…WOW.

Shocking phenomenon: Alabama man struck multiple times by lightning in his lifetime, then gravesite also destroyed by lightning
Childersburg, Alabama is known as the oldest continuously occupied settlement in America. The city, which sits just 37 miles southeast of Birmingham was settled in 1540.

Legends and lore have passed through generations over the years, but one story, in particular, is a bit shocking.

William Yeldell Cosper was struck by lightning at least five times. However, two of those times were after death.

Born to the Rev. James Berry Cosper and Sarah H. Dejournett Cosper in 1844, Cosper would live for over seven decades before succumbing to his fate.

Rumor has it that Cosper survived being struck by lighting the first time. He was sitting on his front porch at the time. He was injured and it took time for him to recover. According to gravesite records, his wife, Martha Carolina Butts Cosper, helped nurse him back to health.

However, he had already had a close call before. A month prior to the strike that hit him, he and Martha were sitting in the front room of their house, spinning wool. A lightning bolt struck the wool, setting it on fire.

Certified Broadcast Meteorologist JP Dice said when a person is struck by lightning, injuries can vary.

“You can see someone’s heart stop because of the disruption of the electrical signals that drive the heart,” Dice said. “They can be revived by CPR in some cases. Also, when they are struck by lightning, there can be severe burns. A bolt of lightning can be over 50,000 degrees Fahrenheit. That’s hotter than the surface of the sun.”

There are no details on what Cosper’s injuries were, but he is thought to have had a short recovery. Not long after recovering from the shocking event, Cosper was inside his home in Monroe, Ouachita Parish, Louisiana, when it happened again.

Historical accounts do not reveal exactly where Cosper was in the house but this time, he would not survive the lightning strike. According to death records, Cosper died in 1919. He was 74 or 75 years old.

Cosper’s body was brought back to where he was born and he was buried in the Childersburg Cemetery.

And that’s when things started getting REALLY weird. All in all, a perfect opportunity for two (2) appropriate Tune Damage embeds, I do believe.

(Via Irish)

Update! A fun little Behind The Music story the first vid reminded me of, which I just cannot resist sharing with y’all. I’ll tuck it below the fold, so as not to annoy the non-guitar amp geeks who aren’t interested in this sort of arcana.

Continue reading “Juiced up” →

The leopard polecat never changes his spots

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Be it federal, state, or local, Government is a right bastard. You should never, ever trust it, it’s always a mistake.

Liquor Regulators Are Seeking Revenge on Bars That Broke Pandemic Rules
“The people who violated the governor’s mandates and orders should face some consequences,” a Pennsylvania Liquor Control Board member said in 2022.

During the height of the pandemic summer of 2020, the proprietors of the Burning Bridge Tavern worked with local officials in Wrightsville, Pennsylvania, to host a series of outdoor gatherings for the community.

For their trouble, the bar’s owners got slapped with a series of citations by the Pennsylvania Liquor Control Board (PLCB), the government agency that oversees and manages the sale of alcohol in the state. The citations were ticky-tack offenses, according to Burning Bridge’s chief financial officer, Mike Butler. Twice, the bar was cited for noise violations because they’d allowed a band playing at the gathering to plug into the tavern’s electricity supply. Another offense occurred when the owners and some family members were drinking inside the tavern, which was closed to the public, during a period when indoor dining was prohibited.

A frustrating situation, but not the end of the world. Burning Bridge’s owners paid the fines associated with the citations and assumed that was that. But then the bar had to renew its liquor license.

Fines, be assured, that amounted to thousands of dollars— dollars already hard to come by in the best of times given the extremely thin profit margins all bars and restaurants struggle with in normal times, orders of magnitude moreso under the draconian and entirely contra-Constitutional FauxVid rules of play.

Not the end of the world, perhaps, but having worked in a good few of them over the years I can tell you with absolute certainty that in the bar/restaurant business there simply ain’t no such thing as “extra money.” But as if all that weren’t enough:

“They denied it. They said, ‘Oh, you’re the guys that got all those citations,'” Butler says. “It was a real gut punch.”

Turns out, over the past two years the PLCB has pushed dozens of Pennsylvania establishments that racked up pandemic-​related citations to sign “conditional licensing agreements” to renew their liquor permits. In some cases, those agreements have forced the sale of licenses—but in most cases, as with Burning Bridge, they’ve added additional conditions to the license that could prevent a future renewal from being approved.

While the PLCB cannot revoke existing licenses, the board is empowered to object to the renewal of a license or to demand the license can only be renewed conditionally. “In extreme cases,” PLCB Press Secretary Shawn Kelly says, the PLCB can force the sale of a liquor license, though the board only pursues that option when “there is an operational and citation history that calls for such an agreement.”

Even though Burning Bridge’s owners weren’t forced to sell their license, Butler says signing the conditional licensing agreement has come with real costs: The bar’s insurance premium tripled as a result of being viewed as a greater risk.

Assuming BBT isn’t part of a bar/restaurant chain, the owners don’t by any stretch have what you might call deep pockets. So taken altogether, the bruising punishment inflicted by the state of Pennsylvania might NOT be “the end of the world” for them, no. But it could very well be the end of their sojourn in the bar biz.

As I always say, seems like there ought to be some way we could thank the “people” responsible adequately for it. I just can’t for the life of me imagine what it might be.

Update! Can’t leave out the closing ‘graph, which sums up the whole contretemps perfectly.

“The feeling was that our government really isn’t working to try and help us,” says Butler. “At this point, it feels like they’re coming after us.”

A-yup. That’s because they, y’know, ARE. You now, and eventually all the rest of us right along with you. Unpleasant as that is to get our heads around, as difficult as it can be for Real Americans naturally inclined to patriotism and faith in their institutions to choke down and accept, that’s the ugly reality nonetheless. The harder we resist admitting it to ourselves, the rougher it’s going to be when we do come around at last.

Which, sooner or later, one way or another, we’re all gonna have to, like it or not. Think of oversized, intrusive, all-powerful government as a sickness with only one effective treatment. It’s some bad, bad medicine—sure to leave a bitter taste that will linger for a long, long time—but before we can hope to be cured, the body politic fully restored to health, a full dose is going to have to be swallowed.

Da girlz can’t he’p it

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The article’s title is waaay too close for comfort.

DMV America: The Regime’s Fani Willis Problem, and Ours
The fantastic fall of Fani Willis is one of the great comedies of recent American politics. It’s the flagrant corruption of Hunter Biden, mixed with the stupidity of Jussie Smollett, the courtroom farce of the George Zimmerman trial, and the sky-high political stakes of a U.S. presidential election. It’s the joyous, healthy humor of seeing a wicked, ridiculous person be exposed and get exactly what she deserves.

Right now, it still isn’t certain whether Judge Scott McAfee will actually kick Fani Willis off her own case, but even if he doesn’t, the damage has substantially been done. The tenuous prosecution of President Trump in Georgia has already been badly delayed and discredited, increasing its odds of being tossed by a higher court and the odds of the public simply shrugging its shoulders even if this abortion of a case somehow lurches all the way to a felony conviction. Left-wing anti-Trump zealots are practically begging Fani to step aside of her own volition for the good of the anti-Trump cause.

But they are unlikely to get what they want, for the same reason that this scandal happened in the first place: America’s regime elevated a clown-show affirmative-action incompetent who only cares about herself, told her that she was a big hero simply for existing, and now we are all reaping the consequences.

Follows, a bit of case-bolstering harking back to one Robert Mueller, Establishment Swine Esq, who actually comes off looking pretty good in comparison to these sorry-ass con artists. Then:

Now, take in all of that and go back to the adventures of Flim-Flam Fani.

Willis’s illicit relationship could have easily remained hidden, or at least inconsequential, if she had been even slightly less stupid. But she just could not help herself. It wasn’t enough to hire her lover. She had to make him special counsel on by far her most high-profile case, which would attract by a million miles the most press attention and the most expensive, diligent lawyers. It wasn’t enough to carry on a tryst with Willis. She had to go on one lavish vacation after another with him.

Willis’s excuses for her behavior are the sort that require a lobotomy to accept. Her relationship with Willis was entirely appropriate and aboveboard, yet Willis felt compelled to hide it because, well, *mumble mumble*. Was Willis using her highly-paid lover as a conduit to get those vacations? Not at all. By happenstance, Fani just keeps $15,000 (15 large) in cash in her home at all times for just this sort of thing. And by golly, it turns out Wade liked to do the same thing. How handy!

Good stuff so far, albeit disgusting and dismaying. Next up, a cpl-three more case-making examples—Kim Gardner, Marilyn Mosby, the particularly brazen grifter Tiffany Henyard (regarding whom the author cites a NYPost article I already had sitting in an open tab waiting for me to get around to it myself), Kim Foxx of Justice for Juicy! fame,—before we get down to the real nitty-gritty.

Yes, that Kim Foxx: the one who tried to let Jussie Smollett off the hook, requiring a special prosecutor to swoop in and save the day. When she wasn’t giving favorable treatment to black celebrities, Foxx ordered her minions to avoid cash bail and to only bring felony theft charges against criminals with at least ten prior felony convictions.

So, why would we expect Kim Foxx to hold a fellow soul sista accountable? For that matter, why would we expect anyone on the left to do it?

The modern left has almost wholly abandoned traditional religious faith, but it certainly still has its priests and saints. And the narcissistic message, repeated day in and day out, is that black women are America’s sacred beings. Joe Biden ran on a promise to consider black women, and only black women, for his first Supreme Court pick—93% of Americans need not apply. The result was Ketanji Brown Jackson, who can’t say what a woman is but nevertheless thinks the entire planet should hear every inane thought passing through her head.

As soon as Fani Willis’s own conduct threw the entire lawfare campaign against Donald Trump, years in the making, into doubt, the ethnonarcissist whining came tumbling out immediately: Criticizing a prosecutor for corruptly staffing her loser boyfriend onto a job he wasn’t qualified for was racist!

We’re not even close to rock bottom, either. Remember, as we speak, Kamala Harris is a heartbeat away from the presidency.

I must say, the piece is the most Godawfully RAYCISS!!!© slander of fine, upstanding, successful Blaque Wimminzxx ’n’ shizzle I ever did read.

And some people wonder how it is that the country got itself into the mess it’s currently in. If you’re one of those, you’ll want to read the whole thing for a big, fat clue. “DMV America”? That right there is some truth that really hurts, if you ask me.

Crapola, almost forgot my title-explicating embed.

There, that’s more like it.

Update! CederQ posts one over at Phil’s joint that is equally apropos to the topic at hand, I think.

Heh. Indeed. Two more good ‘uns perusable at the link.

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