Category: Brilliant!

Telling it like it is

Posted on      by      4 Comments

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

Posted on      by     

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

Posted on      by     

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

Posted on      by     

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

Posted on      by     

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!

Posted on      by     

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

Posted on      by     

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.

“Pride Month” is CANCELLED

Posted on      by     

About fucking time.

Eric Daugherty @EricLDaugh
3h

🚨 GREAT NEWS: Tennessee Gov. Bill Lee signs a resolution telling Pride Month to SCREW OFF, instead declaring June as “NUCLEAR FAMILY MONTH”

The left is LOSING IT!

“The nuclear family, consisting of one husband, one wife, and any biological, adopted, or fostered children, is God’s design for familial structure and has been the bedrock of society since the creation of the world,” the resolution says

Amazing decision.

It is that for sure. Which is kinda sad when you think about it; decisions like this one should be the order of the day—not “amazing,” not “extraordinary,” just part of the usual routine. And yet, somehow, here we all are.

Good on ya, Gov.

Update! Meanwhile, up in the People’s Republic of Taxachusetts:

Jeez-O-Pete. Bill Lee’s Tennessee and Massachew-zits are NOT the same, and for that denizens of the Volunteer State can be deeply, deeply thankful.

Odd couple

Posted on      by     

As a girlfriend of mine used to enjoy saying whenever somebody said that about us: couple of whats, exactly? Straight from the shock-rocker’s mouth:

I BELIEVE this photo was taken at Groucho’s birthday party at the Polo Lounge. I first met him at a charity event Frank Sinatra had organised and we sang Lydia The Tattooed Lady, which was an old Groucho song from [1939 Marx Brothers film] At The Circus. My manager, Shep Gordon, looked after him in the later stage of his life, and for a period of time we were pretty good friends — we were kinda inseparable.

He was always great company, hanging around with him was just like being in a Marx Brothers movie, like being in Duck Soup. You’d go to lunch with him and he’d open the menu, call the waiter over and say, as loudly as he could, ‘What kind of drugs do you have?’, or, ‘Can I get some dope for my friend here?’

I’d say, ‘Shhh, you can’t say that, Groucho!’ But of course you never told Groucho that he couldn’t do something because that would just egg him on more. He enjoyed the sport of it all.

We’d be having lunch and he’d say, ‘Excuse me, I gotta go torture the maitre d”, and two minutes later the maitre d’ would be looking like he wanted to strangle him. There was never a dull moment.

He liked me because I could make him laugh: if you could make Groucho laugh that was something. He was a unique entertainer, in that he could do anything — he could sing, play guitar, dance, tell jokes — and he looked at me as that kind of entertainer too. There was a certain absurdity to both of us.

Groucho came to see one of our shows once, and said, ‘Alice is the last hope for vaudeville.’ He saw me in that same tradition he came from.

Groucho would host great dinner parties, but if you had dinner at his house you had to perform afterwards. Except not in your own chosen field: if you were a singer, you had to dance, if you were a dancer, you had to tell jokes. I’d have to sing a Bing Crosby song, not a rock song, Fred Astaire would have to play piano, Mickey Dolenz would have to dance. That made it funnier for everybody. Those were good evenings.

Even in his eighties he was as sharp as a tack. I’d come back home and he’d be chasing my 18-year-old wife around the living room wearing Mickey Mouse ears, or she’d be sitting in his lap. Sheryl would say, ‘Alice, he’s 86, what is he going to do?’, and he’d look up with a smile and a raised eyebrow. He was one of a kind, and I’m proud to have known him as a friend. He was a true legend.

Stumbled across the above whilst poking around here and there, my curiosity having been piqued by the lead item from yesterday’s Memezapoppin‘ post. The above-mentioned pic:

Awwww. Odd couple indeed, no?

How it is fucking DONE

Posted on      by     

Many, many heartfelt kudos for these brave young men.


These badass ROT-SEE cadets seem to have internalized the hard-to-take lesson that, with attacks committed by certain favored deranged-troglodyte groups (ie, Leftists, feral urban niggers, Moslems, AWFLs), decent folks have been in effect abandoned by the “proper authorities,” and are now fully and completely on their own. There will be no help coming, and therefore if they want to hold onto not just their uninjured hides but their very lives they’re just going to have to take matters into their own hands—in this instance, quite literally.

Kinda underscores the whole raison d’être of us 2A absolutists, don’t it?

Good news, bad news

Posted on      by     

Seems the former is always accompanied by a heaping helping of the latter.

The Retrologist’s Guide to Pizza Hut Classics
Plan your visit with this comprehensive list of locations

In 2019, Pizza Hut brought back its 1974 logo, banking on its nostalgic appeal. I figured that would be the end of it, just a simple marketing tactic soon forgotten. There were no plans announced to bring back the logo in stores, much less redesign the restaurants to look like old Pizza Huts from the chain’s heyday.

But with no fanfare whatsoever, that’s exactly what’s been happening. Pizza Hut has been taking legacy stores and converting them into “Classics.” The formula includes:

  1. The old logo is used in pole signage as well as at the top of the (usually but not always) red-roofed restaurant. The pole sign features the addition of the word “Classic.”
  2. The interior features cozy red booths and old-school Pizza Hut lamps.
  3. Stickers featuring the long-discarded character Pizza Hut Pete are found on the door.
  4. Posters feature classic photos from Pizza Huts of yore.
  5. A plaque displays a quote from Pizza Hut co-founder Dan Carney, explaining the concept as a celebration of the brand’s heritage.

 

The GOOD news: I absolutely love this idea; I think it’s fantastic, and wish them every success with it. The BAD news: Hate to say it and all, particularly in light of the aforementioned good news, but Pizza Hut pizza just isn’t very good.

(Via AoSHQ ONT)

True story

Posted on      by     

I checked the Morehead City PD’s Fakeberg page and no shit, it’s for real.

As I said to a cpl friends of mine earlier: I would drive a hundred MPH right through the middle of Morehead City just to get pulled over by that thing, then resist arrest so’s I could get a look inside. The cop-shop Wienermobile is not merely cool as some cucumbers, it’s fucking GLORIOUS.

Marketing genius

Posted on      by     

Once upon a time, there was a lovely old song went a little something like this:

Now, down the years since it was written there have been many versions of this particular song cut by many artists, many of them females. I just used this one because, I mean, come ON, man, it’s Nat King Cole—of COURSE I did!

Which is not germane to the central point of this post; no, this remarkable story of marketing superdupergenius is.

Los Angeles Rams Cheerleaders
The Los Angeles Rams Cheerleaders are the official National Football League cheerleading squad representing the Los Angeles Rams team.

History
They were established in 1974 during the team’s original tenure in Los Angeles and were known as the Embraceable Ewes. The cheerleading organization became known as the “St. Louis Rams Cheerleaders” when the team moved to St. Louis, Missouri. Beginning with the 2016 NFL season, the organization changed its name to the “Los Angeles Rams Cheerleaders” to associate themselves with the recently relocated Los Angeles Rams football team. They also have their own television show by the name of LA Rams Cheerleaders: Making the Squad.

Heh. Bold mine, because I absolutely love it.

YOICKS!

Posted on      by     

And now, ladies and germs, are you ready for…Batgirl?

Yep, that’s the one, the only Yvonne Craig, also seen below.

Tally friggin’ HO!!! (Special thanks to Dave Dietz for the supercalifragilistic YC photo up top)

Update! Well how ‘bout that: Turns out the smokin’ hot Miss Y was also on ST-TOS back in the day.

Updated update! As promised/threatened, for SteveF.

Julie Newmar. Also Julie Newmar:

YOWSA!!!

Update to the updated update! Now THIS is what I’m talking about, people.

I repeat: YOWSA!!!

ICE is large, in charge, and on the job

Posted on      by     

All the more reason for anti-American “liberals” to hate their guts, then.

Scott Jennings Shuts Down CNN Panelist’s Anti-ICE Rant With Single Question
(DCNF)—Salem Radio Network host Scott Jennings shut down former Department of Homeland Security Chief of Staff and “No Kings” agitator Miles Taylor Monday night by asking him one question about an arrest at San Francisco International Airport.

President Donald Trump on Saturday ordered United States Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents to assist Transportation Security Administration (TSA) officers who have been working without pay for over five weeks. Taylor complained about a Sunday arrest, which took place before Trump’s order took effect.

“Is there a single report today of something going awry with ICE agents… Maybe there is” Jenning asked before “CNN Newsnight” guest host Kasie Hunt responded, “Well, thank God, for 24 hours something didn’t happen.”

“There was. There was an ICE agent refusing to identify himself arresting a woman in an airport, freaking people out. They weren’t even sure. It was in San Francisco airport,” Taylor claimed, with Jennings responding, “Well, what kind of an interaction was it actually? Do you know the situation?”

ICE agents apprehended an illegal alien from Guatemala who tried to flee as the agency was trying to enforce a deportation order dating from 2019, according to a Monday post on X.

Bold mine, and entirely dispositive. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again: if it weren’t for lying, shitlibs would have nothing to say at all.

Deport. Them. ALL. Reminds me of a minor hassle I had with a Hispanic Walmart delivery driver who couldn’t speak a lick of English. He couldn’t find my house even after I’d wasted nearly half a damned hour on the phone trying to walk the guy in turn by turn, finally ran across my place by sheer luck and/or actual magick. It was entirely obvious that the guy couldn’t read the street signs, and had no clue what I was saying.

Throughout this whole frustrating circle-jerk the halfwit kept asking me did I no hablar the español, until I finally got sick and tired of messing around with his dumb ass. I told him no, I most certainly did NOT hablar the español, that this was the United States of America, that we speak English in this country, and that if this was a problem for him he definitely needed to consider going back to wherever the hell he came from. After having had to deal with these immivaders dozens of times—screwed-up grocery orders, wrong and/or missing items, orders thrown out into the front yard of the wrong house several miles away, lather, rinse, repeat—I get where this FLA State Trooper is coming from.


Heh. THAT’S how you do it: shut ’em down; impound the truck so whoever hired this asshole for the driver job gets to share in the misery for a change; deport the driver; and throw the entire upper-level management of said corner-cutting trucking firm in prison for a 10 year stretch. Let the non-English-speaking trucker climb back into his rig with nothing more punitive than a citation written in a language he ain’t gonna understand, imposing a fine he ain’t gonna pay and setting a court date he ain’t gonna show up for, on the other hand, and soon enough Chico’s gonna kill a family of four when his (overweight, uninsured) tractor-trailer slams head-on into their subcompact struggle-buggy at 80MPH, whistling a peppy little conjunto tune as he motors happily along down the wrong side of the highway.

CF Archives

Categories

Comments policy

NOTE: In order to comment, you must be registered and approved as a CF user. Since so many user-registrations are attempted by spam-bots for their own nefarious purposes, YOUR REGISTRATION MAY BE ERRONEOUSLY DENIED.

If you are in fact a legit hooman bean desirous of registering yourself a CF user name so as to be able to comment only to find yourself caught up as collateral damage in one of my irregularly (un)scheduled sweeps for hinky registration attempts, please shoot me a kite at the email addy over in the right sidebar and let me know so’s I can get ya fixed up manually.

ALSO NOTE: You MUST use a valid, legit email address in order to successfully register, the new anti-spam software I installed last night requires it. My thanks to Barry for all his help sorting this mess out last night.

Comments appear entirely at the whim of the guy who pays the bills for this site and may be deleted, ridiculed, maliciously edited for purposes of mockery, or otherwise pissed over as he in his capricious fancy sees fit. The CF comments section is pretty free-form and rough and tumble; tolerance level for rowdiness and misbehavior is fairly high here, but is NOT without limit.

Management is under no obligation whatever to allow the comments section to be taken over and ruined by trolls, Leftists, and/or other oxygen thieves, and will take any measures deemed necessary to prevent such. Conduct yourself with the merest modicum of decorum, courtesy, and respect and you'll be fine. Pick pointless squabbles with other commenters, fling provocative personal insults, issue threats, or annoy the host (me) and...you won't.

Should you find yourself sanctioned after running afoul of the CF comments policy as stated and feel you have been wronged, please download and complete the Butthurt Report form below in quadruplicate; retain one copy for your personal records and send the others to the email address posted in the right sidebar.

Please refrain from whining, sniveling, and/or bursting into tears and waving your chubby fists around in frustrated rage, lest you suffer an aneurysm or stroke unnecessarily. Your completed form will be reviewed and your complaint addressed whenever management feels like getting around to it. Thank you.

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"

"Mike Hendrix is, without a doubt, the greatest one-legged blogger in the world." ‐Henry Chinaski

Subscribe to CF!

Support options

Shameless begging

If you enjoy the site, please consider donating:

Correspondence

Email addy: mike-at-this-url dot etc

All e-mails assumed to be legitimate fodder for publication, scorn, ridicule, or other public mockery unless specified as private by the sender

Allied territory

Alternatives to shitlib social media: A few people worth following on Gab:

Fuck you

Kill one for mommy today! Click to embiggen

Notable Quotes

"America is at that awkward stage. It's too late to work within the system, but too early to shoot the bastards."
—Claire Wolfe, 101 Things to Do 'Til the Revolution

Claire's Cabal—The Freedom Forums

FREEDOM!!!

"There are men in all ages who mean to govern well, but they mean to govern. They promise to be good masters, but they mean to be masters."
—Daniel Webster

“When I was young I was depressed all the time. But suicide no longer seemed a possibility in my life. At my age there was very little left to kill.”
—Charles Bukowski

“A slave is one who waits for someone to come and free him.”
—Ezra Pound

“The illusion of freedom will continue as long as it’s profitable to continue the illusion. At the point where the illusion becomes too expensive to maintain, they will just take down the scenery, they will pull back the curtains, they will move the tables and chairs out of the way and you will see the brick wall at the back of the theater.”
—Frank Zappa

“The right of a nation to kill a tyrant in case of necessity can no more be doubted than to hang a robber, or kill a flea.”
—John Adams

"A society of sheep must in time beget a government of wolves."
—Bertrand de Jouvenel

"It is terrible to contemplate how few politicians are hanged."
—GK Chesterton

"I predict that the Bush administration will be seen by freedom-wishing Americans a generation or two hence as the hinge on the cell door locking up our freedom. When my children are my age, they will not be free in any recognizably traditional American meaning of the word. I’d tell them to emigrate, but there’s nowhere left to go. I am left with nauseating near-conviction that I am a member of the last generation in the history of the world that is minimally truly free."
—Donald Sensing

"The only way to live free is to live unobserved."
—Etienne de la Boiete

"History does not long entrust the care of freedom to the weak or the timid."
—Dwight D. Eisenhower

"To put it simply, the Left is the stupid and the insane, led by the evil. You can’t persuade the stupid or the insane and you had damn well better fight the evil."
—Skeptic

"There is no better way to stamp your power on people than through the dead hand of bureaucracy. You cannot reason with paperwork."
—David Black, from Turn Left For Gibraltar

"If the laws of God and men, are therefore of no effect, when the magistracy is left at liberty to break them; and if the lusts of those who are too strong for the tribunals of justice, cannot be otherwise restrained than by sedition, tumults and war, those seditions, tumults and wars, are justified by the laws of God and man."
—John Adams

"The limits of tyranny are prescribed by the endurance of those whom they oppress."
—Frederick Douglass

"Give me the media and I will make of any nation a herd of swine."
—Joseph Goebbels

“I hope we once again have reminded people that man is not free unless government is limited. There’s a clear cause and effect here that is as neat and predictable as a law of physics: As government expands, liberty contracts.”
—Ronald Reagan

"Ain't no misunderstanding this war. They want to rule us and aim to do it. We aim not to allow it. All there is to it."
—NC Reed, from Parno's Peril

"I just want a government that fits in the box it originally came in."
—Bill Whittle

Best of the best

Finest hosting service

Image swiped from The Last Refuge

2016 Fabulous 50 Blog Awards

RSS feed

RSS - entries - Entries
RSS - entries - Comments

Boycott the New York Times -- Read the Real News at Larwyn's Linx

Copyright © 2026