Oh for the love of….

The never-ending Iran tragicomedy continues.

U.S. Conducts Self-Defense Strikes Against Iran
Fox News Chief National Security Correspondent Jennifer Griffin said CENTCOM spokesman Captain Tim Hawkins confirmed to Fox that CENTCOM conducted the strikes. The news comes as the negotiations with Iran’s terrorist regime stall, with the regime calling for Trump’s assassination and Trump becoming frustrated with their unwillingness to surrender their nuclear program.

Griffin posted Hawkins’ statement. “U.S. forces conducted self-defense strikes in southern Iran today to protect our troops from threats posed by Iranian forces,” he said. “Targets included missile launch sites and Iranian boats attempting to emplace mines. U.S. Central Command continues to defend our forces while using restraint during the ongoing ceasefire.”

Missile launchers? Iranian mine-layers? But…but..but I had been given to understand that all that stuff had been destroyed already! Brace yourself for the crucial bits (bold mine, of course and as usual):

As I wrote earlier, the Iranian regime does not even pretend to be anything but America’s worst enemy. After half a century of terrorism, the Iranian regime has repeatedly violated ceasefires, rejected every peace offer from Trump, and most recently put out a €50 million, or approximately $58 million, price on Trump’s head, just after an Iran-tied assassin made an attempt on Ivanka Trump.

Trump has already demanded Iran sign onto the Abraham Accords with Israel, which the Hamas- and Hezbollah-sponsoring regime won’t do. “In speaking to numerous of the Great Leaders mentioned above, they would be honored, as soon as our Document is signed, to have the Islamic Republic of Iran as part of the Abraham Accords. Wow, now that would be something special! This will be the most important Deal that any of these Great, but always in Conflict Countries, will ever sign,” he posted Monday.

Fucking pathetic, that’s what. Wonder what Trump’s response would be should one of the Mad Mullahs (who were also said to have been blown to Perdition early in the festivities, apparently an erroneous claim) hopped a flight to DC, swaggered into the Oval Office, spit in Trump’s face, closing the impromptu presentation by dropping trou and cracking a steaming, malodorous Stink Pickle atop the Resolute Desk. A call for more useless “negotations,” mayhap? A formal apology for said loaf-pinching Camel Humper—printed on the top-shelf White House stationery, natch—for offering insult, offense, and injury, wittingly and gratuitously, with malice aforethought, to the Grand and Glorious Islamic Republic of Iran?

Get a fucking clue, Mr President. The Pisslamic Republic’s rulers want nothing whatever to do with your “Abraham Accords.” Nor will they ever agree to give up whatever nuclear material they may retain; any and all bomb-grade fissionables must either be physically, forcibly taken away from them, or bombed into nonexistence. Rest assured, also, that the Mullahs are NOT going to change their minds about these things, no matter how skilled and/or persuasive a deal-maker you may be. You’re wasting everyone’s time—yours, theirs, mine, EVERYONE’S—with your foredoomed pursuit of unrealizable fever-dreams.

Eradicate the maniacal thugs; crush the Iranian government like so many pestiferous insects under a booted Western heel, that would be my personal preference. Alternatively, you could also 1) shut the fucking fuck up about Iran, and keep your lips tightly buttoned for the duration, or even just 2) bend your knee to the Mad Mullahs and surrender outright.

Neither of which options I much like, I must say. Nonetheless, like it or lump it, there are NO other realistic choices left to us here. Sadly, your insistence on phantom “negotiations,” “agreements,” and “cease-fires” have now become so meaningless, so ineffectual, that the Mullahs don’t even bother to acknowledge them by sending one of their lowest-level regime flunkies out to Pock-Eee-Stawn anymore—which insistence, to my way of thinking, means allowing yourself to be publicly chumped by the tried and true Mad Mullah Lie, Cheat, ’n’ STALL con-job—has put Western “infidels” in actual, for-real danger.

I love ya, man, you know I do; I’ve said so plenty of times, here and elsewhere. But this blowhard circle-jerkery is simply not gonna cut it anymore, and I am by no means the only one who thinks so, trust me on that.

The Mullahs are dedicated, conniving, slippery, unrelenting (pseudo-)religious fanatics. Attempting to strike any kind of bargain with the vicious lunatics is a mug’s game. They will NEVER abide by any agreement you manage to wrangle out of them; at this point, the contempt they hold for you, your Administration’s personnel, the American nation itself along with all Americans, is so palpable as to be dang near visible, burned like a tattoo into their filthy skins. Rather than disgrace themselves and insult their bloodythirsty False God by attempting to keep said contempt on the down-low, they’ve flaunted it for all the 47 years-plus of their pre-Medieval regime’s putrid existence.

I said it two weeks ago; it was true then, it’s still true now, and I by-God meant every last word of it. Either end this dismal “negotiations” charade and resume full-on, no-holds-barred aerial and/or naval bombardment of all and every even nominally strategic target where you left off RIGHT THE FUCK NOW, or pull out in shame, disgrace, and humiliating defeat a la the ignominious Biden Bugout in Kabul. In this fight, to pull any punches is to lose all. After a practically unbroken 60-70 year losing streak, we can’t afford any more losses; the price is just too durn steep.

Them’s the cards you were dealt, Mr Trump; play the hand or fold, it’s in your hands now. You initiated this latest shitfling—after nigh on five (5) decades of incessant Iranian provocations, a one-way war which resulted in thousands of American lives lost for no good reason—a difficult but absolutely necessary undertaking I vociferously supported at the time, and still do today. As the man in the hot seat you’ve been implicitly charged with deciding whether to shit or get off the pot, as my Grandma used to say. In this instance, that’s by no means as simple and straightforward a proposition as it might seem at first glance to be.

Sorry, ain’t no magical, mystical Third Way off the horns of this dilemna, I’m afraid. Every US Prez-mo-dent since Ronnie The Magnificent having assiduously danced around the perennial Iran Problem, the onetime molehill of taking out Iran’s Mad Mullah regime has grown and grown until it’s become a mountain too high for even the most brash, aggressive, overly-confident mere mortal among us to so much as dream of successfully scaling.

And so here we all are, then. Ain’t nothing to it but to do it, Mr President, sir. Time to buckle down and git ‘er DONE, and you know it is. In the words of the violent, cowardly Leftorrhoid “protesters” during the infamous Chicago D卐M☭CRAT convention riots of 1968: The whole world’s watching. And, y’know, waiting as well. Don’t let us down.

ATTAGIRL!

Yes, I know she’s always been way too liberal in her views for most conservative tastes, but I don’t care. She served her time in uniform honorably and well, and I always have liked her, even when I didn’t necessarily agree with something she was doing/saying/advocating.

Be all that as it may, here’s just another excellent reason for holding Ms Gabbard in highest regard.

 

SharrelAnne responds:

 

The obligatory “Show more” workaround for SharrelAnne’s response to Tulsi:

You answered the call to serve this country just like he did. You know what it means to put on the uniform, to stand willing to give everything in defense of this nation, and that makes this gesture mean even more to our family.

Seeing you standing there at his grave honestly brought me to tears. Thank you for honoring Alan, for saying his name, and for reminding me that there are still people in this country who have not forgotten the cost of freedom. 🇺🇸

Bless ’em both, I say. All three (3) of them, rather.

Update! As you’d no doubt expect from the man:

Lots, lots, LOTS more here, including a bit of obnoxious sniveling in the follow-ups about Hegseth and “photo ops” and such which, as ever, says way more about said sniveler than it ever could about the target(s) of their misbegotten ire. As the article’s title says, Tulsi, Hegseth, and the others have surely gone above and beyond the call today, and the CF cap is duly doffed to them.

Updated update! Repellent Nazi liar and all-round douchetool Graham Platner: the flipside of the Tulsi/Hegseth coin.

Hero Purple Heart vet who Graham Platner said ‘didn’t deserve to live’ slams Dems backing him: ‘Say that to my face’
WASHINGTON — The heroic, Purple Heart-winning Army veteran, who US Senate hopeful Graham Platner sneered in a screed on his burner Reddit account didn’t deserve to live, tore into the Democrats for continuing to back the Maine candidate.

Pfc. Ted Daniels, who captured viral helmet footage of himself moving into open terrain to draw Taliban fire away from his squad in 2012, said Democrats backing Platner owe his children an apology.

“I’m very thick-skinned, and he said it,” Daniels told The Post. “I don’t want an apology, and any apology from him [Graham] at this point would definitely not be sincere.”

True, dat. From all we’ve seen of the creepy, crawly pissant Platner to date, any apology he puked forth at any time, to anybody, about anything at all, would definitely not be sincere either. Kudos and a hearty “Right the fuck ON” to PFC Daniels for not taking any shit off the suppurating asswart.

Twee, overentitled brats, meet the word consequences

Yet another of those occasions when, after the initial flush of hearty approbation, one can only shake one’s head ruefuly and softly mutter, “What the hell took ya so long, anyhow?

Remember back in March when Marxist influencer Hasan Piker, members of Code Pink, and other commies went to Cuba to essentially back up the regime, denounce Donald Trump and the United States, and make a mockery of the lives of the Cuban people? Well, it looks like they Trump administration isn’t letting that go lightly.

Fox New Digital is reporting that the Treasury Department’s Office of Foreign Assets Control (OFAC) has issued administrative subpoenas to Piker and Medea Benjamin, the co-founder of Code Pink. According to Fox, it’s “part of a wider investigation into whether U.S. organizations and leaders violated U.S. laws and sanctions in supporting Cuba’s communist regime.”

If you’ll recall, Piker and Benjamin were some of the faces of the group “Nuestra América Convoy,” mostly communist sympathizers who traveled to Cuba from multiple countries. They claimed they were there to bring humanitarian aid and investigate how U.S. sanctions and blockades were impacting the people of the country, but they spent their time cozying up with the Cuban regime and left the island nation shouting the regime’s propagandic talking points.

While in Cuba, the group also stayed in a five-star hotel with power and held a concert (spoiler alert: it wasn’t acoustic) while much of the country suffered a blackout. They wined and dined at the hotel, while many people in the country dig through garbage to find food. They also took vehicle tours through the streets of Havana, as if they were on some sort of poverty porn safari tour and left claiming the people were out in the streets, having a good time.

Anyway, these subpoenas are called “Requests for Information,” and they seek to find out more about the financial, logistical, and communications information involved in planning the trip to determine if they violated any of the many U.S. sanctions on Cuba, including potentially unlicensed travel-related transactions, financing, logistics, delivery of goods, or contacts with sanctioned Cuban entities/government personnel.

Fox reported earlier on Saturday that the Justice and Treasury Departments are “investigating U.S. nonprofits and activist groups for allegedly coordinating lobbying, messaging, fundraising, delegations, and political organizing efforts with Cuban government officials as part of a possible foreign influence campaign operating inside the United States.”

According to Fox, 145 U.S. organizations that report around $1 billion in combined revenue “are mobilizing in support of the Cuban government and the Communist Party of Cuba.

Meh, it’ll do for starters, I suppose. But really, the heck with all that Subpoenas-But-Not-QUITE-Subpoenas ducking and diving, shucking and jiving, &c; instead, lock the rotten, traitorous bastards up and throw away the stinking key—at least until we can get the 20-trapdoors-no-waiting factory-style-execution gallows assembled; the stairs to the main platform built and bolted to the side; and the nooses all properly knotted.

In fact, we probably oughta consider having somebody with a HUUUGE assembly line like, say, Ford or GM, start cranking said mass-hanging platforms out and getting them distributed to every urban zone, college town, and other shitlib enclaves in the nation most ricky-tick, so’s we can beat the rush and not fall behind.

Give ’em hell, Hegs!

Having had to wait so very damned long for it only makes it all the sweeter.

Pete Hegseth tears into DEI, ‘woke military’ in fiery West Point graduation speech
Secretary of War Pete Hegseth tore into leaders who’ve tried to turn the military into “woke Princeton” and stained the American spirit, ripping DEI in a fiery speech to graduating cadets at West Point Saturday.

With President Trump considering renewing strikes against Iran, Hegseth directed his toughest talk toward military leaders who backed diversity programs he said were sapping the Armed Forces of its strength.

Opening his remarks on a rainy day at the storied military academy overlooking the Hudson River, the secretary slammed the woke agenda.

“We saw woke and weak leaders trying to make West Point look like woke Princeton, which happens to be my long lost and lost alma mater,” he said.

“They tried to introduce diversity and inclusion studies. They hire professors who advocated for anti-American ideologies right here in these halls, but no more.”

Hegseth, who was admitted to the military academy but picked the Ivy League school where he joined the Reserve Officers’ Training Corps instead, said prior leaders “embraced the DEI craze” and endangered soldiers.

“Let me be perfectly clear, you are not an ‘army of one’, and you are certainly not an army of woke. You are an American army, an army of warriors,” he said.

Speaking at an institution that trained both Ulysses S. Grant and Robert E. Lee, Hegseth also took a shot at woke efforts to scrub military bases and monuments of confederates generals who led the rebellion against the Union.

“You’ve seen standards lowered, you’ve seen an obsession with race and gender, you’ve seen the watering down of discipline, codes weakened, and traditions tossed aside in the name of political correctness,” he fumed.

Then he railed against “statues taken down, paintings placed in the basement. I’m here to tell you the slow slide here at West Point, and across the United States Army, is over,” Hegseth promised.

He spoke of the phrase “our diversity is our strength,” which the secretary called “the single dumbest phrase in military history.”

Oh HELL yeah! The bitter, anguished shitlib tears pouring forth because of Secretary Hegseth’s straightforward, common-sensical speech will taste like the most heavenly ambrosia to every Real American.

A little history

Our good friend KT (of AoSHQ Pet Thread fame, among other notable things) has posted a truly awesome article memorializing the incomparable John Adams and the Marquis de Lafayette, which includes among other less well-known factoids this ratcheer:


Wow. Truly, there were giants among us mere mortals back then. GREAT work, KT!

Update! Upon further reflection, no way can I leave out the info provided about Lafayette in T’s piece.

Gilbert du Motier, the Marquis de Lafayette, was one of the wealthiest men in France (which is to say in the world), when, inspired by the words of the American Declaration of Independence, he left the comfort and security of his home, traveled to America, and offered his service to the cause of American liberty. At age 19, he was commissioned major general, to this day the youngest person ever to hold that rank in the American army.

Lafayette soon became one of General Washington’s most trusted and capable generals. Having been orphaned at a young age, Lafayette greatly admired Washington, who became a father figure for him. And likewise, Lafayette became like a foster son to Washington, who had no biological children of his own.

To the end of his long and celebrated life, Lafayette remained devoted to his adopted county. He named his only son George Washington, and he named a daughter Virginia.

Having returned to France after the war ended, Lafayette become a key player in the cause of French liberty, and he remains a revered hero in that country as well. He was the principal author of the French Declaration of the Rights of Man, modeling it on the American Declaration of Independence.

Lafayette was 67 years old when, in 1824, President James Monroe and Congress invited him to come to the United States in honor of the nation’s 50th birthday. After Washington’s death in 1799, he had given up his dream of someday returning to Virginia and living near Mount Vernon, but Lafayette was delighted at the invitation and welcomed the opportunity to return to the country he had helped.

At age 76, Lafayette died at his home in Paris. At his request, his son George Washington Lafayette sprinkled the soil from Bunker Hill over his father’s coffin as it was lowered into the ground. An American flag has flown continually over the grave ever since.

When word of Lafayette’s death reached America there was an outpouring of grief that equaled that when Washington died. Flags were lowered to half mast, John Quincy Adams delivered a eulogy in a joint session of Congress attended by the president, the cabinet, the Supreme Court justices, and the American diplomatic corps. Twenty-four-gun salutes were fired by every American naval ship and at every American military post, followed by a single cannon shot every half-hour afterwards until sunset. For six months American officers wore black armbands, and American citizens wore mourning dress for thirty days.

Hundreds of places in America, including at least 36 cities and towns, are named in honor of Lafayette.

Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de La Fayette, the “Hero of Two Worlds,” died on May 20, 1834, one hundred ninety-two years ago today.

Like I said: GIANTS. What a marvelous, inspiring story.

AT LAST, some good news!

The Hut is back, baybeee.

Pizza Hut brings back its old-school restaurant features as nostalgic customers rejoice: ‘So excited’
Back to the good old days.

2026 has proven to be the year of nostalgia. Youngsters are resorting to old-school tech like vintage flip phones and iPods. Others are returning to analog hobbies and activities.

Even beloved restaurant chain Pizza Hut is going back in time, reverting to its retro glory — red checkered tablecloths and all.

Tim Sparks, president of Daland Corporation, a Kansas-based company that operates almost 100 Pizza Hut locations across the country, is helping keep Pizza Hut alive by rewinding the clock and redecorating over 80 annoyingly modern, stark-looking locations to make them look like they did decades ago.

Red roof? Check

Red-checkered tablecloths, vinyl booths and Tiffany-style lamps? Check, check and check.

The beloved salad bar and red plastic cups will be back.

Even the old-school Pac-Man machines will return.

Unsurprisingly, customers are losing their minds over this massive change.

As well they might—although, as a few others in the NYP article point out, what WON’T be coming back is the original recipe for the various pizzas and such-like. FederalGovCo banned all the ingredients decades ago, see. For our own good, of course and as always.

Why, whatever would we do without them? Surely there must be some way we could try just to find out, isn’t there?

Mother’s Finest

Excellent ATL band, who I was fortunate enough to see open for Da Nuge twice, and Aerosmith (IIRC) once, back in the mid-70s.

Apparently, that Rockpalast appearance was enough all by itself to catapult them to Euro-stardom.

Mother’s Finest issued its debut album Mother’s Finest in 1972 on RCA; a second album for RCA remained unreleased until it surfaced as bonus tracks on the 2010 Wounded Bird re-issue of Mother’s Finest. The group signed a new contract with Epic Records and released its sophomore effort, also titled Mother’s Finest, in 1976, stirring up controversy with the ironic “Niggizz Can’t Sang Rock ‘n’ Roll”. Riding a wave of success, the band’s next three albums, Another Mother Further (1977), Mother Factor (1978) and Mother’s Finest Live (1979), all went gold, helped along by heavy touring opening for the likes of Ted Nugent, Black Sabbath, The Who, Aerosmith and AC/DC.

In 1978, the band set out for Europe and took part in the Rockpalast concert series at the Grugahalle in Essen, produced by Germany’s WDR television and broadcast to various countries. With only one concert Mother’s Finest put themselves on the map all over Europe where the band still has a dedicated following. The legendary 1978 show was finally released on CD and DVD in 2012 as Mother’s Finest – Live At Rockpalast 1978 & 2003 which also includes the band’s 2003 “Rockpalast” appearance at Satzvey Castle.

Which, as admirable an achievement as that is, is merely a drop in the bucket when it comes to what these guys have accomplished over the years:

After four albums for Epic/CBS in the 70’s, the band signed with Atlantic Records for its heaviest album to date, 1981’s Iron Age. That same year Joyce Kennedy guested with Molly Hatchet on the song “Respect Me in the Morning” from the Take No Prisoners album. Mother’s Finest went on hiatus after 1983’s One Mother to Another, with vocalist Joyce Kennedy pursuing a solo career, releasing the soul/R&B-styled Lookin’ for Trouble album on A&M Records in 1984. She scored a Billboard Top 40 hit with “The Last Time I Made Love”, a duet with Jeffrey Osborne. A year later, Joyce recorded the song “Didn’t I Tell You?” for the soundtrack of the film The Breakfast Club. Drummer Barry Borden, who had joined Molly Hatchet on the No Guts…No Glory album, teamed up with guitarist Moses Mo in the band Illusion, resulting in a pair of albums, Illusion (1985) and I Like It Loud (1986), on Geffen Records. Borden would later join The Outlaws for a pair of albums and has been a member of The Marshall Tucker Band since the late 1990s.

Meanwhile, bassist Wyzard toured with Fleetwood Mac’s Stevie Nicks behind her 1983 album The Wild Heart, including an appearance on Saturday Night Live. Eventually, he and brother/drummer Harold Seay, who had replaced Barry Borden on One Mother to Another, joined Rick Medlocke in a revamped Blackfoot lineup and appeared on 1987’s Rick Medlocke and Blackfoot album.

Daayuummmm…not too shabby, wouldn’t you say? One more vid from these Mothers; can’t possibly go wrong with a funky hard-rocking cover of a Smokey Robinson tune.

Update! Bonus cool points to anybody who figured I’d never be able to resist putting this one up too.

Annnnd the rest of it.

Telling it like it is

Of all people, Big John “Lumpy” Fetterman, and my cap is duly and humbly doffed to him for his honesty, forthrightness, and stark bravery.

Fetterman calls NYC protesters ‘pro-Hezbollah/Hamas,’ puts own Democratic Party on blast
Sen. John Fetterman, D-Pa., described protesters who demonstrated in New York City on Tuesday as “Pro-Hezbollah / Hamas s[—]heads,” and indicated that the Democratic Party should speak out against them.

“Mob of Pro-Hezbollah / Hamas s[—]heads raging against law enforcement and terrorizing the NYC Jewish community near a synagogue and day care,” Fetterman wrote in a Wednesday post on X.

“Where’s my party’s condemnation?”

Where indeed, John. Free advice: don’t be holding your breath waiting on it.

(Via Ace)

RIP David Allan Coe

The perfect country song.

BACKSTORY: At NYC’s great old dive-bar, the Village Idiot (the original on 1st Ave, that would be, not the later incarnation over on W 14th), whenever the above tune came on the jukebox, whoever was tending bar would crank it waaaay up, every fist in the joint would be raised high in the air in gleeful defiance of…whatever, and every hoarse, cracked, alcohol-dehydrated voice would sing along with every last syllable. I tells ya, it was some of the most fun I ever did have in my life.

My old roomie Lisa bartended at the Idiot on Wednesday afternoons, and most of those days she’d call me at home around 5 or so demanding that I get down there right away because she was lonely and bored to tears by then. Afternoons tended to be kinda dull at the Idiot; the place didn’t really start to approach escape velocity until around ten or so, see.

Which request for company I was always quite happy to oblige. This reminiscence might convey some of the cheap-beer-sodden ambience of that truly magical place.

THE VILLAGE IDIOT
When I was 19 years old, I got a job working at a bar on the Lower East Side in New York City. You would’ve thought I had gotten into Harvard by how happy I was. The place, The Village Idiot, was a popular hole in the wall on 1st Avenue and 10th Street – far from Harvard.

The owner, Tommy, was a giant Irish guy with an afro. Tommy was from Queens, and his success came from the authenticity of the bar he opened. Everyone loved him and his bar. There was nothing self-conscious about The Village Idiot, or Tommy, for that matter. He was a generous, kind man who loved to party and everybody loved him for it.

So that was Tommy – he was the brand and the bar was his product. Just like any great product, it was honest. It was honest because it was exactly the kind of place Tommy would have hung out had he not opened it himself. It was not a concept, and the people that came there intuitively knew that, so they came back, and they always brought a friend.

The Idiot, as it was lovingly referred to, was a narrow, dank “box car,” but not as big. There was a juke box up front that was on from the moment we opened at 10:00 am until the time we closed – sometimes 4:00 am, sometimes 2:00 am. This was dependent on how drunk Tommy got that night. One of his “tells” was if he came in licking his lips, hide the money. If his lips were dry, you were probably going to be okay.

The juke box was stocked with a collection of country music that was vast, impressive, and perfect. “The Box” had to be full blast at all times. Tommy lived above the bar – and he would call down, “Turn the box up! I can’t hear it.” We sold Pabst Blue Ribbon in a can for a dollar, and Tommy would occasionally bite the middle out of a can of beer to thrill his patrons if things seemed a little slow.

All of the bartenders were women, and were encouraged to drink with the customers. I started making fake pitchers of kamikaze shots because I would get so drunk I couldn’t do my job. Literally – I could not function. I’d pour you a real shot and I’d drink watered down kamikaze mix. No one ever caught me or cared. We were not allowed to wear hats behind the bar because Tommy said that was bad luck.

Another thing I well remember about the Idiot was something the girls working behind the stick called “the Idiot Virgin Ceremony,” a privilege reserved for those lucky souls who were experiencing their very first trip to the seedy, smelly little joint.

See, the unsuspecting newb was required to sit on a barstool with his back to the bar, bending his torso far enough back so that his head rested atop the bar. The on-duty bartendress would then tuck a rolled-up towel around the victim’s neck below his chin to cope with any potential overspill, grab a fifth of bourbon and one of tequila, clamber up onto the bar, straddle the victim’s head, squat down, and turn up both bottles into the guy’s mouth, inevitably splashing raw booze all over said victim’s face, neck, head, and shoulders. The vic had been sternly instructed beforehand that he was NOT to raise his head off the bar, scream for rescue, or in any way refuse the “service” he was being provided as an Idiot Virgin, on pain of punishment most dire.

I learned about the IVC when my friend Joe came up to visit from North Cackalacky, and Lisa did it to him. They ended up falling in love L-U-V, whereupon she moved out of our cramped shithole on Ave B and down to NC and in with him, staying together for several years before the formerly happy couple blew apart like an A-bomb.

Truer words were never etc

God DAMN but I love this guy.



“On fire”? I should say so, yeah. PREACH it to ’em, Pete!

(Via Ed Driscoll)

The plane that WOULD NOT DIE

Bravo, cheers, and a hearty “Right on!” to the most effective, best-designed, and toughest Close Air Support and/or tankbuster platform ever made: the incredible, indestructible A-10 Thunderbolt II, a/k/a the Warthog.


I don’t care what anybody says, I think the A10 is fucking beautiful. Ask any ground-pounding dogface who was ever stuck under an artillery barrage and heard the characteristic vengeful scream of a Warthog arriving on-scene to blast those enemy cannon-cocker sumbitches into dog food about it, and every last one of them will tell you the same; the men (and women) who fly her likewise. The aircraft is just so got-damn good, so reliable and capable and plain ole tough that, although the sub-genii of Higher-Higher™ have been trying to get rid of her for years and swap her out for something WAY more expensive, glamorous, and less useful, the A10 just keeps on choogling regardless.

You go, ol’ girl, and fuck the naysayers with a rusty railroad spike; some of us out here still love ya. Oh yeah, there’s also this wonderful pic I copped from tonight’s Eyrie post:

Heh. TELL it, Batman.

BRRRT update! Sounds like …VICTORY.

I’ve seen and heard that exact same scene passing thru Indiantown Gap on the way to NYC so many times I just can’t even. That was always the most exciting part of the whole drive, for me anyway.

Battle of the Bulge

Sample ‘graphs from what may just be the best, most gripping account of George Patton’s fabled three-division offensive intended to relieve the beleaguered, semi-frozen 101st Airborne at Bastogne (a “relief” which the dogfaces of the 101st swore forever after was NOT needed) you’re ever gonna see:

You wake up to a frost-laced window and the sound of a four-star general whistling in the hallway. You swing your feet onto an icy plank floor and feel the cold bite up through your wool socks. Your breath rises in white plumes above the narrow iron cot. Outside the cracked window a sentry’s boots crunch on frozen gravel and somewhere a field telephone rings twice and cuts off. You strike a match for the paraffin lamp, splash yesterday’s basin water on your face, and scrape a safety razor across two days of stubble. The mirror shows the hollow eyes of a man who has slept four hours. From the hallway you hear the Old Man still whistling, already dressed, already ahead of you.

You sit across from General Patton as an orderly pours black coffee into thick white china. Powdered eggs, bacon, and a slice of stale bread sit on your plate. The General is already on his second cup and tapping a pencil against a folded situation map. He does not small-talk. He tells you the Germans are running out of gas and will be stopped, and that by noon you will both be in Verdun standing in front of Ike. He says it like a weather report. You notice the ivory grip of his revolver is already at his hip, even at breakfast.

Read it all, gang, I promise you won’t be sorry you did. EXCELLENT job, Doug.

He shoots, he scores!

Big points for RFKJ.

The Way RFK Jr. Turned the Tables on This Democrat Was Amazing
Democrats thought they had Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. right where they wanted him. On Friday, Kennedy was on Capitol Hill so that Democrats could grandstand on the HHS budget, the 25th Amendment, and whatever else they needed clips of to include in their fundraising pitches. They thought they could abuse Kennedy and he’d just take it.

They were wrong. Very, very wrong.

During the hearing, Democrats came loaded with their usual talking points about proposed Medicaid changes harming the poor and the sick. What they didn’t anticipate was Kennedy coming armed with numbers that reframed the entire argument. Instead of playing defense, he walked into that hearing room and went on offense.

Kennedy’s central point was straightforward: the administration isn’t cutting Medicaid. It’s cleaning it up.

Then came my favorite moment of the exchange. Rep. Greg Casar (D-Texas) decided to challenge Kennedy with what he clearly thought was a devastating question. “Have you met with any of the 1.4 million people who have lost their health insurance just this last year from dropping off of Obamacare?” Casar asked. “Have you sat down and talked to those folks about the fact they won’t have their health insurance again?”

The question was stupid, but the implication was obvious. According to Cesar, Kennedy was supposedly indifferent to real Americans losing coverage.

They were wrong. Very, very wrong.

During the hearing, Democrats came loaded with their usual talking points about proposed Medicaid changes harming the poor and the sick. What they didn’t anticipate was Kennedy coming armed with numbers that reframed the entire argument. Instead of playing defense, he walked into that hearing room and went on offense.

Kennedy’s central point was straightforward: the administration isn’t cutting Medicaid. It’s cleaning it up.

Then came my favorite moment of the exchange. Rep. Greg Casar (D-Texas) decided to challenge Kennedy with what he clearly thought was a devastating question. “Have you met with any of the 1.4 million people who have lost their health insurance just this last year from dropping off of Obamacare?” Casar asked. “Have you sat down and talked to those folks about the fact they won’t have their health insurance again?”

The question was stupid, but the implication was obvious. According to Cesar, Kennedy was supposedly indifferent to real Americans losing coverage.

Kennedy’s response was about as devastating as it gets. “They’re almost all illegal immigrants,” he told him.

There was a brief pause before Cesar stuttered his way through a response and then proceeded to talk over Kennedy as he attempted to make a critical point.

“We found 1.5 million illegal immigrants illegally collecting Medicaid,” Kennedy said.

Heh. Go get the goddamned idiots, Sec Kennedy, sir.

Words of wisdom

America’s GoAT USSC Justice (and it ain’t even close), the incomparable Clarence Thomas, says it loud and clear.

Clarence Thomas SLAMS progressivism as threat to Americans’ natural rights
Progressivism “requires of the people a subservience and weakness incompatible with a constitution premised on the transcendent origin of our rights.”

Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas spoke at the University of Texas in Austin on Wednesday night and he lashed out at the horrible political philosophy of progressivism, saying that it’s anathema to the Declaration of Independence and the goals set forth in that document. He praised the ethos of the Founding Fathers and urged Americans to not be “passive spectators” in American liberty, but to uphold the Declaration of Independence.

He spoke about his career, realizing early on in Washington, DC, that he had to define his principles and their worth. “What are your principles worth to you?” He said he asked himself.

“My answer then was the same I would give today: they are worth life itself. What are those principles? They are the same principles in the Declaration. They were bequeathed to me by my grandparents and reinforced by my nuns and my faith.

“In God’s eyes, we are equal. We are all equally created in the image and likeness of God. We are all endowed with the natural rights to life, liberty and happiness. Our rights and our dignity are inherent. They do not come from others, and they do not come from the government. And our government derives its legitimacy and its authority from our consent. We do not derive our rights from our government.

“The primacy of our rights in relation to our government is crucial in reconciling the mortal words of the Declaration with our Constitution and our history. None of our rights come from the government.

“All of the government’s authority comes from our consent, and the structure and limited role of government is to assure that it does not exceed the authority to which we have consented or intrude on our natural rights. The Constitution is the means of government. It is the Declaration that announces the ends of government.

“The Constitution achieves this purpose by protecting our natural rights and our liberties from concentrated power and excessive democracy. Our Constitution creates a separation of powers and Federalism, truly for the first time in modern history, to prevent the government from becoming so strong that it threatens our natural rights.”

Preach it, sir. Gonna be a dark day indeed when Justice Thomas steps down and retires, not only for liberty-oriented Americans but for liberty its own self. Wise, steadfast, and clear-eyed; learned, eloquent, level-headed, and unflappable; steeped in the history, lore, and principles of our nation’s Founding; the man truly gets it, in a way that no other Justice ever quite has. Mere words can’t express how very fortunate Real Americans are to have him, particularly in these most parlous of times.

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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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