Scary Halloween music

Via my brother-from-another-mother BCE, this one should fit the bill. A preface, from Big Country himself.

Mongolian throat singing with metal and traditional Mongolian musical instruments… and another side note: The two string ‘guitar’ is a morin khuur which is the national instrument of Mongolia and is known as the “horse-headed fiddle”… in a few of their videos, you can plainly see the Swastika imbedded in the neck as it was originally intended to be, but freaks out the left so badly…

These guys are as awesome as you can imagine live as well. Funniest thing: NONE of them speak any English except the lead singer who’s main phrase was “FUCK YEEEEEAH!!!” which was hysterical…

He ain’t lying about all that, friends, as you can see.

More, from the “About” page of this downright frightening musical ensemble’s official website.

In 2019, an NPR story put a spotlight on “a band from Mongolia that blends the screaming guitars of heavy metal and traditional Mongolian guttural singing,” accurately highlighting the cultural importance and unique musical identity of THE HU. Founded in 2016 in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia, THE HU, Gala, Jaya, Temka, and Enkush, are a modern rock group rooted in the tradition of their homeland. The band’s two most popular videos, “Yuve Yuve” and “Wolf Totem,” were produced by the band’s producer Dashka. The band’s name translates to the Mongolian root word for human being, and their unique approach blends instruments like the Morin Khuur (horsehead fiddle), Tovshuur (Mongolian guitar), Tumur Khuur (jaw harp) and throat singing withcontemporary sounds, creating a unique sonic profile that they call “Hunnu Rock.”

Their debut album, 2019 ‘s The Gereg, debuted at #1 on the World Album and Top New Artist Charts. With it, the band have accumulated over 250 million combined streams and video views to date and have received critical acclaim from the likes of Billboard, NPR, GQ, The Guardian, The Independent, Revolver, and even Sir Elton John himself.

Proving their global appeal, THE HU have sold out venues across the world in North America, Europe, Asia, and Australia, with scheduled festival appearances at Coachella, Lollapalooza, Download Festival, and more, creating a community of fans from all walks of life. They quickly grabbed the attention of the industry, leading to collaborations with Jacoby Shaddix of Papa Roach and Lzzy Hale of Halestorm. And most recently, the band received praise from fans and critics for their Mongolian rendition of Metallica’s “Sad But True,” which Metallica picked up on and invited them to record ‘Through The Never’ for their Metallica Blacklist album released in 2021 alongside other high-profile guest artists like Miley Cyrus, Chris Stapleton, Phoebe Bridgers, J Balvin, St. Vincent, and so many more. The band has also explored eclectic ways to reach audiences with their sound, most notably writing and recording music for EA Games’ Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order.

The aforementioned Metallica cover is pretty awesome as well, but what really struck me most of all wasn’t so much the music but the gracious, becomingly humble acknowledgement at the end of the YT vid:

Like millions of people around the world, Metallica has been a huge influence and inspiration for us as music fans and musicians. We admire their 40 years of relentless touring and the timeless, unique music they have created. It is a great honor to show them our respect and gratitude by recording a version of “Sad But True” in our language and in the style of the HU.

Well, you can’t say fairer than that. And all’s well as ends better, as my old Gaffer liked to say, bless him.

Update! Dagnabbit, don’t know how, but this gin-yoo-wine CF institution almost got by me this year.

Ahh, the wonderful old chestnut from Jumpin’ Gene Simmons—no, not THAT Gene Simmons, the earlier, funnier one. I’ve run his version of “Haunted House” every Halloween on Ye Aulde Colde Furye Blogge for more years than I care to remember; it mortifies me to think that this year I durn near forgot. Thankfully, though, this tired old brain came through for us ere the end.

MORTIFIES, get me? A-HENH!

Updated update! What the hell, a backgrounder on Temüjin, a/k/a Genghis the Khan seems apropos.

Genghis Khan (born Temüjin; c. 1162 – August 1227), also known as Chinggis Khan, was the founder and first khan of the Mongol Empire. After spending most of his life uniting the Mongol tribes, he launched a series of military campaigns, conquering large parts of China and Central Asia.

Born between 1155 and 1167 and given the name Temüjin, he was the eldest child of Yesugei, a Mongol chieftain of the Borjigin clan, and his wife Hö’elün. When Temüjin was eight, his father died and his family was abandoned by its tribe. Reduced to near-poverty, Temüjin killed his older half-brother to secure his familial position. His charismatic personality helped to attract his first followers and to form alliances with two prominent steppe leaders named Jamukha and Toghrul; they worked together to retrieve Temüjin’s newlywed wife Börte, who had been kidnapped by raiders. As his reputation grew, his relationship with Jamukha deteriorated into open warfare. Temüjin was badly defeated in c. 1187, and may have spent the following years as a subject of the Jin dynasty; upon reemerging in 1196, he swiftly began gaining power. Toghrul came to view Temüjin as a threat and launched a surprise attack on him in 1203. Temüjin retreated, then regrouped and overpowered Toghrul; after defeating the Naiman tribe and executing Jamukha, he was left as the sole ruler on the Mongolian steppe.

As it happens, the vast empire established by the great Genghis Khan remains the largest of all time, by a broad margin. The Brits, the Spaniards, the Dutch? Stop it already, you make me laugh.

The Mongol Empire of the 13th and 14th centuries was the largest contiguous empire in history. Originating in present-day Mongolia in East Asia, the Mongol Empire at its height stretched from the Sea of Japan to parts of Eastern Europe, extending northward into parts of the Arctic; eastward and southward into parts of the Indian subcontinent, mounted invasions of Southeast Asia, and conquered the Iranian Plateau; and reached westward as far as the Levant and the Carpathian Mountains.

The Mongol Empire emerged from the unification of several nomadic tribes in the Mongol heartland under the leadership of Temüjin, known by the more famous title of Genghis Khan (c. 1162 – 1227), whom a council proclaimed as the ruler of all Mongols in 1206. The empire grew rapidly under his rule and that of his descendants, who sent out invading armies in every direction. The vast transcontinental empire connected the East with the West, and the Pacific to the Mediterranean, in an enforced Pax Mongolica, allowing the exchange of trade, technologies, commodities, and ideologies across Eurasia.

The empire began to split due to wars over succession, as the grandchildren of Genghis Khan disputed whether the royal line should follow from his son and initial heir Ögedei or from one of his other sons, such as Tolui, Chagatai, or Jochi. The Toluids prevailed after a bloody purge of Ögedeid and Chagatayid factions, but disputes continued among the descendants of Tolui. The conflict over whether the Mongol Empire would adopt a sedentary, cosmopolitan lifestyle or stick to its nomadic, steppe-based way of life was a major factor in the breakup.

After Möngke Khan died (1259), rival kurultai councils simultaneously elected different successors, the brothers Ariq Böke and Kublai Khan, who fought each other in the Toluid Civil War (1260–1264) and also dealt with challenges from the descendants of other sons of Genghis. Kublai successfully took power, but war ensued as he sought unsuccessfully to regain control of the Chagatayid and Ögedeid families. By the time of Kublai’s death in 1294, the Mongol Empire had fractured into four separate khanates or empires, each pursuing its own interests and objectives: the Golden Horde khanate in the northwest, the Chagatai Khanate in Central Asia, the Ilkhanate in Iran, and the Yuan dynasty in China, based in modern-day Beijing. In 1304, during the reign of Temür, the three western khanates accepted the suzerainty of the Yuan dynasty.

The Kubla Khan mentioned above is the self-same fellow written of by Samuel Taylor Coleridge, if I remember right. No less exalted a literary personage than the incomparable Rudyard Kipling memorialized Coleridge’s short pome thusly: “Remember that in all the millions permitted there are no more than five—five little lines—of which one can say: ‘These are the pure Magic. These are the clear vision. The rest is only poetry’.”

I shan’t argue. I still remember—having been brought up in the long-gone days when the government schools were in fact schools and not indoctrination centers and therefore still bothered to teach their young charges about the foundation-stones of Western arts and letters such as Sam Coleridge and Rudyard Kipling, to name but two—the opening couplet of Coleridge’s opium-fueled flight of fancy:

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree

Meh, that stuff’s old as dirt, older than that musty, dusty, rusty US Constitution thingamabobber, if such a thing is possible. Probably isn’t even an XboX version of it available, I betcher. I mean, seriously, dude: “Xanadu”? “Kubla Whatsit”? “Damsels with dulcimers,” whatever those might be, sitting around drunk off their asses on “the milk of Paradise,” all that other horsepuckey? SNOOZAPALOOZA!!!

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Season’s greetings

Never having been all that big on horror movies, I surprised myself when Bram Stoker’s Dracula became one of my all-time favorite films after I first saw it. Propelled by gifted thespian Gary Oldman’s marvelously creepy yet also unexpectedly sympathetic turn as Count Dracul, Coppola’s take on Stoker’s classic vampire tale provides an object lesson in how movies ought to be made. Atmospherics, acting, script, cinematography, SFX, set design, eye of newt, wing of bat, toe of frog—every last ingredient that goes into the cauldron to brew up a genuinely unforgettable cinematic experience is included here.

Plus, in the “Dracula’s brides” scene, TITTIES! Okay, nightmarish blood drinking ghoulie-girl titties, sure. But still. Hey, I ain’t complaining; whatever they’re attached to, it’s always nice to see a comely set. Which, y’know, these most definitely are.

I ran across a full-length, free version of the film on YewToob, and in the course of re-watching a little of it there’s one particular scene that, unfortunately, stands out as being of extraordinary relevance today. Judge for yourself why I say so.

“They’re perfectly nutritious”—sounds familiar, don’t it? Even after more than two decades, Renfield’s deranged blandishment is still as fresh and current as tomorrow’s headlines. As a YT commenter notes, Tom Waits doesn’t act much, but when he does, he’s amazing. SO: you vill eat zee bugs, eh? Yeah, NO. Just look how well that worked out for Mr Renfield, the poor schlemiel.

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Just another Biden fuckup

Not so much, this time out. After all, to him and all the rest of his scum-gargling radical Left ilk, she IS dead now.

Biden suggests very alive former Rep. Gabby Giffords is dead after bizarre remark: ‘Nothing wrong with me’
President Biden appeared to suggest Friday that former Rep. Gabby Giffords (D-Ariz.) is either dead or divorced— and no longer his friend — in an apparent gaffe shortly after he told members of a Native American community that there is “nothing wrong with me.”

“Thank you to Sen. Mark Kelly, a great friend — who also was married to an incredible woman who was my friend,” the 81-year-old president told the Gila River Indian Community, just south of Phoenix. 

Kelly, a Democratic senator from Arizona, has been married to Giffords — who is very much alive — since 2007.

Explanatory backstory for my above punchline—in reference not to Giffords but to Wonder Woman Tulsi Gabbard, which is probably the person Stupefied Jaux thought he was talking about anyway. Or talking TO, perhaps; who even knows anymore with that addled, staggerlicious old feeb. In any event, I’ve had this one sitting in an open tab for a cpl-three days now, and I’m a-gonna use it, by gum.

Tulsi Gabbard announces that she’s ‘joining the Republican Party’ at Trump rally
GREENSBORO, N.C. – Former Hawaii Congresswoman Tulsi Gabbard announced Tuesday that she’s “joining the Republican Party.”

Gabbard, a former Democrat and independent, made the declaration during a North Carolina rally for former President Donald Trump, as the GOP nominee for president – her inspiration for making the party switch – stood nearby.

“The Democrat Party has no home for people like us, but we do have a home in the Republican Party – where we are welcomed with open arms by President Trump and so many of you who love our country,” Gabbard said. 

“And it is because of my love for our country and specifically because of the leadership that President Trump has brought to transform the Republican Party and bring it back to the party of the people, and the party of peace, that I’m proud to stand here with you today, with President Trump, and announce that I’m joining the Republican Party,” she declared. 

Trump, 78, later noted that he wasn’t expecting Gabbard’s announcement. 

“Wow, that was a surprise,” the former president said, calling it a “great honor” to have influenced Gabbard to join the ranks of the GOP. 

Well said, Tulsi, and good on ya for it. Don’t look now, but there may well be another, more apposite reason for Gabbard’s sudden switcheroo, and America’s Only Trustworthy News Source knows what it is.

Tulsi Gabbard Finally Realizes She’s Far Too Attractive To Be A Democrat
WASHINGTON, D.C. — There was great rejoicing in the GOP yesterday as former Democrat Tulsi Gabbard finally realized that she’s far too good-looking to be a Democrat.

Sources close to Gabbard say the realization was a long time in coming, but that she finally decided to switch sides after realizing that she didn’t blend in at all.

“I’d felt very out of place for a while now,” Gabbard said as she announced she was now a Republican. “Everyone around me was either a creepy perv like Walz or a mummy like Pelosi or some uggo like Kamala. And then half of the Dems were just trans and pretending to be the other gender, honestly. I’m just glad to be joining the party with all the lookers, you know? Finally settled that one. Second Amendment, can I get an amen?”

Attractiveness experts agreed that Gabbard no longer had a place among the “sea of androgynous bags” that make up the Democrat Party. “We’re so glad she finally realizes how gorgeous she is,” said attractiveness expert Bubbs Bronson from Fort Wayne, Indiana. “Easy on the eyes, that’s for sure!”

The smokin’ hot, intellectually agile, leggily sexadelic, and unashamedly patriotic Ms Gabbard is certainly a breed apart from the blubberous manatees; bloated bipedal hippopotami; green-bewigged Manwomen; bong-ripping, dorm-dwelling Reluctant Femmes sporting nasty, smelly white-girl dreads; and mange-rife screech monkeys which constitute pretty much the complete taxonomy of feminine “pulchritude” in today’s D卐M☭CRAT Party. Not since the famously fugly Mrs Franklin D Roosevelt have we beheld such a gorge-raising gaggle of fairer-sex gargoyleens. Gruesomighty! Next to these present-day specimens, even Her Herness HILLARY!© Clinton begins to look pretty darn fetching.

So welcome aboard, T, we’re mighty glad to have ya with us adorning the side of good ol’ Truth, Justice, and the American Way; far as I’m concerned, you’re making us look better already. And it’s early days yet; if we can persuade you to reconsider some of your holdover Leftist ideas and opinions in the days and years to come, our joy will be boundless. Not that looks are everything, of course. Then again, they aren’t exactly nothing, either. Certainly, in politics as in many other aspects of life on this here blue marble of ours, they don’t hurt.

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Troll level: Samurai

Just may be the funniest thing you’ll see all week.

As Rush Limbaugh used to say, he’s living in shitlib heads rent-free. Mollie Hemingway, for one, is grateful for our Media overlords’ kindness and consideration in refusing to allow this evil spawn of Satan and Hitler—LITERALLY!—to pull the wool over Amerikan eyes:

Mollie @MZHemingway

Where would we be without corporate media telling us that Donald Trump is *not* an actual McDonald’s employee and is *not* currently rostered with the Pittsburgh Steelers.

Said a mouthful there, Moll. Mary the K Ham, for her part, is having some trouble grokking it all.


Ahh, but not all is sweetness, light, beef-tallow fries, and Terrible Towels in Trumpland, I’m afraid.

Oh dear. It would seem that even into the life of the world’s wealthiest burger-flipper, some rain must fall.

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Serendipitous musicallality

Woke up at around 3, 3:30 this morning with a post about Aerosmith already assembling itself in my head when somehow, some way, the incomparable Barrence Whitfield elbowed his way into my creative process. I dragged myself up out of bed, went to the can to take a leak (bipedal males should take a moment to thank their lucky stars for being able to enjoy life’s simple pleasure of standing up to pee), grabbed a cup of java, and off we go…

I first got hipped to the man they call the Round Mound Of Beantown Sound and his fine band back then, the Savages, when I was living in the town of Ocean Drive, SC by a DJ who gigged weekly at the bar I worked at, Fat Harold’s HOTO Tiki Bar location—Harold’s On The Ocean, that would be— beachfront under the grand old Ocean Drive Beach and Golf Resort. HOTO’s is still around, or it was last time I was down thataway a few years ago, at least. Sadly, Fat Harold, the old skimflimp (in Pogo parlance), is long gone himself.

Harold’s other joint (of three, actually), only a cpl-three blocks up the way (a tumbledown little roadhouse with a big outdoor dance-deck yclept the Pad), is of course a bona fide legend in the Shagger/Beach music community. To be honest—even though I’ve been going to OD, Myrtle Beach, and Cherry Grove ever since I was a little kid and even spent a summer living in OD and bartending for Fat Harold back in the early 80s—I’ve never once set foot in the Pad for some odd reason, couldn’t tell you why. Never learned how to dance the Shag either, although years after he died my mom shocked the living hell out of me with the revelation that my dad had actually been a world-class Shag dancer, even had a big box full of trophies he’d won in various Shag competitions stuck up in a corner of the attic someplace. Blew my mind, I tells ya, I did NOT see that coming. Dad never said a word about it, not that I ever heard.

At any rate, modern Beach music sucks the big green weenie if you ask me, although the early stuff—basically just good old-school R&B and rock and roll, mixed with a little smidge of real true blues—is a whole ’nother story. Judged by that definition, this makes Barrence’s stuff the genuine Beach music article, no more nor less, so small wonder a DJ at HOTO’s would be playing him. First up, dig if you will this perfect-for-Halloween selection: “Bloody Mary.”

The rest of the Barrence Whitfield tunes I’ll tuck below the fold. Take my word for it, you’re not gonna want to miss a one of these gems; in my whole entire life, I’ve never heard anybody quite like the guy.

Continue reading “Serendipitous musicallality”

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DeSantis delivers

Ron the Great slaps ‘em down again, and it’s a joy and a wonder to behold.


PREACH it, Guv. “Show more” transcript:

“The chance of me virtue signaling for people in the media is zero. So, do not count on that. I do not subscribe to your religion.”

“I get you have an agenda, I understand that. I think you should be more honest about what that would mean for people: taxing them to smithereens, stopping oil and gas, making people pay dramatically more…we would collapse as a country.”

And that’s the whole story. Hit ‘em again, Gov, harder and in the head this time—I think I see one of the shitlib pieces o’ shite still crawling around under that pile of stinking corpses.

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Rock on, Party Cat!

I loved the Pat and Party Cat saga so much I simply HAD to do a follow-up post, after digging a little further into the story.

Rescue Cat Sees the Country From the Back of a Bike
Just because you ride a bike and you look like a tough guy, that doesn’t mean you can’t have a soft side too. Just look at New Jersey biker, Pat Doody, and his rescue kitty, Party Cat.

Doody was on his way back to New Jersey, after a cross-country trek to Born Free in California. At a truck stop in Nevada, Doody found this poor little guy abandoned, with burns all over his fuzzy little body. But instead of saying, “oh, that’s so sad,” and moving on, Doody picked up the cat, put him in his vest, and brought Party Cat along for the ride.

Apparently, Party Cat took to the road instantly.

Doody did a pretty excellent job of documenting the duo’s adventure back home, too.

“Found this little orange nugget in wells nv. He’s done a few hundred miles in vest so far. Looks like he burnt his lip some how. But he’s a cool dude,” Doody posted on his Tumblr, along with the picture above from Pinebrook Trails.

Apparently the road was good to Party Cat, as Doody says the cat is doing much better, and that his burns have almost healed entirely. So not only has the cat found himself a home, he’s also found himself a hobby. Ride on, Party Cat, ride on.

Yes indeed, little guy. Another:

Biker Rescues Tiny Injured Kitten and Goes on Cross-Country Road Trip Together
It’s certainly an unusual sight to see a heavily-bearded biker carrying around a tiny kitten, but Pat Doody and his furry friend Party Cat are a match made in heaven. They came together serendipitously, as Doody was headed towards his home in New Jersey all the way from California. He was at a truck stop in Nevada filling his tank with gas and noticed that the little guy needed help–he was badly burned. Doody rescued Party Cat by tucking him into his vest and taking him on the road.

The rest of their relationship is history. Although Doody was still thousands of miles away from his destination, the calm, well-mannered Party Cat was okay with the trek. He nibbled on dry tuna during the ride, and his new-found human applied ointment to his injuries along the way. “His burns are pretty much all healed up except for the little spot on his lip…It looks a lot better and doesn’t seem to be bothering him,” Doody explained to Revzilla.

Now that they’re home, Party Cat is eating proper cat food and has seen a veterinarian, and Doody has gained an adorable, permanently-loyal pal.

More great photos of the dynamic duo appended to the above short article, including this one:

A damned good-looking pair, wouldn’t you say? I sure would.

This Biker Does Not Look Like A Cat Lover, But After A Motorcycle Show He Had No Choice
When biker and sheetmetal worker Pat Doody left the Born-Free motorcycle show in Silverado, California, he expected to make the trek back home with friends, but he didn’t think he’d be sharing his bike with a new one.

He was noticeably injured and obviously a stray, so naturally the biker felt like he needed to take him in.

After getting some consistent food and rest, the little cat quickly began to regain his health.

Eventually, he was healthy enough to join Doody on his day-to-day adventures…

Wherever they are, whatever they’re doing, Party Cat just goes with the flow.

But finally, after a long and eventful journey, the pair arrived safely at home, where they both continue to enjoy their new friendship.

Lots, lots more heartwarming photos at that one, including a candid photo of PC enjoying his new Jersey digs:

Heh. Looks like Party Cat fell into a pretty schweet set-up all around, I am happy to report. One more:

Biker saves badly burned kitten and takes him on a cross-country adventure
Party Cat is living a great life on the open road.

He’s known as Party Cat.

Rescued by New Jersey biker Pat Doody at truck stop, Party Cat was found with burns all over his body. Instead of leaving him behind, Doody tucked him in his vest and continued on a cross-country adventure.

Despite his name, Doody describes Party Cat as “so chill.” Doody has a YouTube channel, but he has yet to make a video featuring Party Cat, and his Instagram is currently locked. Thankfully, Doody’s Tumblr is full of adorable cat pics, and we’re waiting patiently for Party Cat’s eventual social media stardom.

There’s another brief article w/pics here, among plenty of others. I say again: Good on ya, Pat Doody, and God bless you and Party Cat both. Best wishes for many more happy two-wheelin’ years together.

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JD hits ’em AGAIN

Good and hard, too.

J.D. Vance Destroys ABC News Anchor for Downplaying Immigrant Gang Violence
Sen. JD Vance appeared on ABC’s “This Week” Sunday morning, during which Martha Raddatz attempted to downplay concerns about Venezuelan gangs taking over apartment complexes in Aurora, Colo.

It did not go well for Raddatz.

The conversation took a turn when Raddatz tried to brush off the issue by labeling it as “a handful of apartment complexes,” but Vance wasn’t having any of it.

At the heart of the exchange was Raddatz’s pushback on Donald Trump’s remarks about violent gangs in American communities, which the mayor of Aurora, Colorado, has downplayed. Raddatz couldn’t quite get her narrative straight, however.

“He’s making these statements that the mayor is flat out disputing,” Raddatz said of Trump.

But Vance, quick to catch the spin, responded: “Well, Martha, you just said the mayor said they were exaggerated,” to which Raddatz attempted to cover herself, by saying they were “roughly exaggerated.”

And that’s when Raddatz really stepped in it.

“Senator Vance, I’m gonna stop you because I know exactly what happened,” she claimed. “I’m gonna stop you. The incidents were limited to a handful of apartment conflicts apartment complexes, and the mayor said our dedicated police officers have acted on those concerns. A handful of problems.”

And that’s when Vance pounced.

“Only, Martha, do you hear yourself?” he said. “Only a handful of apartment complexes in America were taken over by Venezuelan gangs, and Donald Trump is the problem and not Kamala Harris’s open border.” Vance’s frustration was palpable as he pointed to the broader issue of America’s border crisis and the consequences of millions of unvetted migrants entering the country. “Americans are so fed up with what’s going on, and they have every right to be. And I really find this exchange, Martha, sort of interesting because you seem to be more focused with nitpicking everything that Donald Trump has said rather than acknowledging that apartment complexes in the United States of America are being taken over by violent gangs.”

“Only a handful”—which, naturally, is perfectly fine with shitlib scum like Raddatz and her loathsome ilk, for whom the only real problem is not that this is happening at all but that it isn’t more widespread than it already is. Here’s the vid:


We could do a whole lot worse than JD Vance as Veep, or even President. And almost certainly will.

Update! Slammin’ Schlichter nails ‘em to a cross.

So damnably predictable, this Progressivist progression.

Updated update! Upon further reflection, this story underscores the divide, providing proof positive of the insuperable nature of the fundamental conflict in Amerika v2.0: “people” like Martha Raddatz will never, ever understand why Real Americans like Vance find even ONE apartment complex being taken over by violent, criminal foreign gangs unacceptable.

Yet somehow, we’re expected to find some way, ANY way, to live cheek by jowl with “liberal” shitweasels, as opposed to just exterminating them like the plague-rats they are? And any failure to do so is nonetheless OUR fault and not theirs, because “racist bigots,” or “Trump is Literally Hitler,” or some other such folderol? Sorry, NO.

In JK Rowling’s fantastic Harry Potter series, Professor Trelawney’s cryptic prophecy regarding Harry and Lord Voldemort includes a line that really says it all: Neither can live while the other survives. That’s as good a summary of the current contretemps as I can think of right offhand.

They’d probably object to me saying so in this context, but the lyrics of this thoroughly awesome Disturbed song fit the bill pretty neatly.

“Turned into someone who cannot be preyed upon…” If they fear anything at all, that would have to be it, in my estimation.

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Whither the Renaissance Man?

CF friend KT—she of Saturday Pet Thread renown, among other notable things—hips us to an intriguing VDH column. Sefton linked it earlier this week, but I let it get by me somehow.

We Are in Need of Renaissance People
The songwriter, actor, country/western singer, musician, U.S. Army veteran, helicopter pilot, accomplished rugby player and boxer, Rhodes scholar, Pomona College and University of Oxford degreed, and summa cum laude literature graduate, Kris Kristofferson, recently died at 88.

Americans may have known him best for writing smash hits like “Me and Bobby McGee” and “For the Good Times,” his wide-ranging, star-acting roles in A Star is Born and Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid, his numerous solo albums, especially with then-spouse and singer Rita Coolidge, and the country group super-quartet he formed with Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings, and Willie Nelson.

In other words, Kristofferson was a rare Renaissance man who could do it all in an age of increasingly narrow specialization and expertise.

At certain times throughout history at particular locales, we have seen such singular people from all walks of life.

Classical Athens produced polymaths like Aristotle—tutor to Alexander the Great, logician, student of music, art, and literature, educator, think-tank founder, biologist, philosopher, and scientist. Later Greeks like Archimedes and Ptolemy, as men of action, mastered six or seven disciplines and applied their abstract knowledge in ways that made life easier for those around them.

But we associate the idea of a “Renaissance man” mostly with Florence, Italy, between the 15th and 16th centuries. In that brief 100 years, the Florentine Republic hosted multi-talented geniuses like Leonardo da Vinci—master painter, sculptor, architect, scientist, engineer, and inventor—best known for the Mona Lisa and Last Supper.

The American Revolution was a similar embryo of Renaissance men. Thomas Jefferson was perhaps the most famous example of unchecked abstract and pragmatic genius displayed in almost every facet of late 18th– and early 19th-century life—main author of the Declaration of Independence, third U.S. President, founder of the University of Virginia, inventor, agronomist, architect, and diplomat.

But Benjamin Franklin may best approximate the model of the Florentine Renaissance holistic brilliance—journalist, publisher, printer, author, politician, diplomat, inventor, scientist, and philosopher.

And here’s where it gets really interesting.

The best American example of the current age is the controversial Elon Musk, a truly Renaissance figure who has revolutionized at least half a dozen entire fields.

Huh. Much as I’ve come to like and admire him, I hadn’t thought about Elon as a modern-day Renaissance Man before, but now that VDH brought it up it seems obvious. Onwards.

No one prior had broken the Big Three auto monopoly of GM, Ford, and Chrysler.

Musk did just that. He exploded all three companies’ dominance with his successful creation of the first viable electric vehicle, Tesla, whose comfort, drivability, reliability, safety, and power rivaled or exceeded the models of all his competitors.

His spin-off battery storage and solar panel companies allowed thousands of families to go off the grid and stay self-sufficient in power usage.

Musk’s revolutionary Starlink internet system—a mere five years old—provides global online service to over 100 countries. Through its some 7,000 satellites, Starlink brings internet service to remote residents far more effectively and cheaply than do their own governments. When natural disasters overwhelm utilities or war disrupts the normality of peace, all look to Musk to restore online reconnections to the outside world.

Musk, almost singlehandedly, transformed the U.S. space program from a NASA 60-year-old government monopoly to an arena of fervent private-public competition. His Space Exploration Technologies Corporation (SpaceX) created a rocket and spacecraft program that has kept the U.S. preeminent in space exploration and reliable satellite launches. When NASA and old aerospace companies falter, the government looks to Musk to bail them out.

Musk, at great personal cost, radically transformed the old Twitter—poorly managed, censorious of ideas and expressions not deemed progressive, and mired in scandal for partnering with the FBI to silence news deemed possibly injurious to Democratic candidates and left-wing campaigns.

His new X replacement is an unfettered platform for free expression. And the more the left abhors their loss of the monopolistic old Twitter’s ideological clearing house, and vows to flee X and start their own new left-wing, censorious Twitters, the more they stay on X.

There’s more yet, and it’s…well, like I said, it’s intriguing.

SIDE NOTE: I haven’t looked in on Hanson for a goodish while—nor American Greatness itself, for whom he used to write a regular column, and perhaps still does—but for many years practically every piece he published was linked and excerpted approvingly here at CF; in particular, his post-9/11 output looking into the Moslem supremacist threat and how the West might most successfully deal with it was reliably excellent—very insightful, well-written, and steeped in the historical perspective. I see now he has his own website, The Blade Of Perseus, which I didn’t know about before. Duly bookmarked and blogrolled.

Update! Just checked and yep, looks like Hanson is still posting over at AmGreat. A little taste of another good piece, this one with an overly optimistic title.

Try a Little Honesty About Israel
Rather than admitting their own role in igniting the Middle East, Biden and Harris now blame the victims of their own incendiary foreign policy.

Honesty? From these congenital liars?!? *snort* Yeah, as if. That’ll be the day.

It was the terrorists of Hamas who surprise attacked and murdered 1,200 Israeli civilians during peace and a Jewish holiday.

Their slaughtering torturing, raping, and hostage-taking revealed a level of precivilization barbarism rarely seen in the modern era.

Israel was simultaneously targeted by rockets from Hamas and Hezbollah that would eventually number over 20,000.

It did not respond to the bloodbath with a full-scale invasion of Gaza until October 27, some three weeks after the slaughtering.

During that interim, for most of the Muslim world and both U.S. Muslim communities and on American campuses, there was rejoicing at the news of slaughtered Jews.

After it all, Biden-Harris lifted sanctions on a hostile Iran, giving it $100 billion in oil windfalls. It begged Iran to reenter the disastrous Iran deal. It abandoned the Abraham Accords. It lifted the terrorist designation from the terrorist Houthis. It restored fungible aid to the Hamas tunnel builders. It gave new aid to Hezbollah-controlled Lebanon.

Israel’s enemies got the Biden message: attack the Jewish state and perhaps Americans for the first time in a half-century may not really mind that much.

And so they did in unison.

 And will go right on doing so, unless and until we finally pay heed to LeMay’s sagacious advice.

Curtislemay1 2x.

Read all of that Hanson piece at AG, folks, and expect to see more of the man ‘round these h’yar parts henceforth. I have been remiss, now I intend to make it up to y’all. What the hey, it’s the least I can do.

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PREACH it, Guv!

As I have always maintained: as far as Presidents of the US go, Ron DeSantis sure makes one hellaciously good Governor of Florida, don’t he? Yes, I get that he has ambitions to higher office, is a career politician deep down, is cordially loathed by some Florida residents who know him better than I do, all that jazz. But still.

While I certainly wish the man no ill in any way, shape, or form, I nevertheless hope he’ll eventually find it in himself to foreswear his yearning for career advancement and just stay put where he can and actually IS making a genuine, meaningful difference—right now, not later on, not someday if/when/perhaps-possibly. In my estimation, not just FLA but the rest of us really can’t afford to lose him as Governor, nor do we wish to have to sit back and watch him become just another blunted needle in the Mordor On The Potomac haystack, so to speak. We already have plenty and to spare of those as it is.

A taste of what I’m talking about:

Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis said people should put Hurricane Milton “in perspective” in response to a reporter’s question about climate change.

At a press conference on Thursday, DeSantis was asked whether “global warming” impacted the hurricane’s intensity after Milton spawned several tornadoes that wreaked havoc in the Sunshine State.

DeSantis rejected the premise that Milton was worse than previous hurricanes, stating, “I think you can go back and find tornadoes for all of human history.” 

Compared to previous storms, Milton had a barometric pressure of about 950 millibars when it made landfall, the governor said. “I think if you go back to 1851, there’s probably been about 27 hurricanes that have had lower barometric pressure – so the lower the barometric pressure, the stronger it is.” 

The governor noted that 17 hurricanes stronger than Milton made landfall in Florida prior to 1960 and that the strongest hurricane on record since the 1850s was the Labor Day hurricane, which occurred in 1935 and had a barometric pressure of 892 millibars. The most deadly hurricane in Florida history happened in 1928, he added.

“I just think people should put this in perspective there. They tried to take different things that happened with tropical weather and act like it’s something – there’s nothing new under the sun,” DeSantis said. 

“I think what’s changed is we’ve got 23 million people. A storm is likely to hit more people and property than it would have 100 years ago. And so the potential for that damage has grown, but what’s also changed is our ability to do the prevention, to pre-stage the assets.”

Dayummm, whodathunk we’d ever hear such plainspoken, unflinching common sense from an American politician in this day and age? No dissembling, no evasion, no throat-clearing, no foot-shuffling; zero tolerance for shitlib dishonesty; just the straight dope backed up by facts, figures, and actual history, all hurled into their very teeth with neither fear nor apology. It’s refreshing, that’s what.

I mean no slight or insult whatsoever when I say that—although far be it from me to call into question Da Guv’s ability to rise to the challenge of the national stage and be outstanding there—his gifts, skills, and experience make DeSantis such a naturally perfect fit for the great state of Florida that there can be no disgrace in contenting himself to continue serving in that (supposedly) lesser role.

Having been a full-throttle embracer of risk-taking my entire life, I well understand the appeal to a man such as DeSantis of rolling the dice on a run at the Presidency, to win or lose it all. If he wasn’t a risk-taker his own self, we wouldn’t even be having this discussion in the first place. In the end, though, is the prize really worth the pursuing? Only DeSantis himself can say, which is only meet and just.

Consider: as Governor, his actions and initiatives have visible, real-world impact, generating effects and consequences that resound well beyond the state line. Conversely, Faux Jaux Bribem’s flailing, floundering, flubbing tenure as ***”pResident”*** exposed the figurehead nature of the American Presidency for all with eyes to see. If we learned anything from his tragicomic reign of error, it’s that the sock-puppet perched behind the Resolute Desk has very little, if anything, to do with how the country is actually run.

Whatever the case may once have been, referring to the President as “The Most Powerful Man On Earth” is mere habit now, nothing more—a rhetorical tic as comfy and familiar as an old pair of slippers, form without meaning. As it has metastasized, the locus of federal power has gradually shifted away from the Oval Office until today it resides elsewhere, wielded by skulking éminences grises without names, faces, or accountability.

Governor D besieged in the White House, subject to the less-than-tender mercies of such as they? Forbid it, Almighty God!

Should DeSantis choose to remain in place as Governor, Amerika v2.0’s loss will be America That Was’s gain. And there ain’t a damned thing wrong with that, either.

Hamas “protester” gets his

Your feel-good video of the day week month year century millennium geological epoch.


And PIIING! Down like the sack of shit he truly is goeth Mr Tough Guy. I’ve watched this one ten times already, and it ain’t ever gonna get old. My only regret is that X won’t let me press the “Like” button eight hundred and fifty bajillion times.

Via Ace, who quips:

Hamas made one enemy too many: This time, they pissed off an LA restaurant owner who, if I understand his words properly, is connected to the “Albanian mob.”

And he doesn’t need the mob for back-up. He’s got Mr. Left and Mr. Right with him at all times.

Heh. In-fucking-DEED. As the late great Charles Bukowski once famously said: the problem with these people is that their cities have never been bombed, their women have never been made slaves, they’ve never known hunger, and (I might add) they’ve never been punched in their silly faces or made to feel truly, deeply afraid.

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American music

Wherein the great Aaron Copland demonstrates once again why he tops the very short list* of American composers who truly, truly matter.

*That list consists, in my not at all humble opinion, of three (3) names: Copland, George Gershwin, and Lenny Bernstein. Although I freely admit that a damned good case could be made for including Ray “The Genius” Charles on that list also.

Update! I’ve run this one before, but what the hell, I see no reason to resist an encore: the National Youth Orchestra’s spirited performance of the well-known and ever-popular companion piece to the above “Saturday Night Waltz” from Copland’s Rodeo—HOE-DOWN!

Any questions on why I call him the GREAT Aaron Copland, people?

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Lost America

GREAT piece on the opening-credits sequences of those classic old 70s sitcoms.

Opening credit sequences are a lost art these days. “Lost” because the ritual of collective TV watching is a thing of the past with no real place here in the streaming era. And yes, once upon a time, Network TV watching was a ritual. Like a formal State dinner with seventeen different kinds of spoons and a new glass for each course, Network TV viewing came with a set of rules and an irresistable order. All over America families gathered around the TV set at the appointed time, tuned our sets to the proper channel and waited for the opening notes of the songs we all knew by heart, excited to spend half another hour with characters we’d come to think of as friends.

There was something gratifying too about the idea that all across the country millions of our fellow Americans were doing the same exact thing at the same exact moment. If you are of a certain age, you probably have a memory of getting up during a commercial break on a warm night, maybe to let the dog out, and hearing the sound of the same commercial you were just watching coming from your neighbor’s open window. There was something special about that sense of shared culture, all of us participating at the same time, no matter where or who we were…city mouse and country mouse…doctors, lawyers, electricians and plumbers. There was an irresistable allure to being a part of something magical that would only happen once and then never again.

Streaming TV viewing, by contrast, is a solitary act with no real sense of time or place and where nobody knows your name. By the time a popular 70’s show entered syndication, a committed fan would have watched the series opener one hundred times or more. But memorable credit sequences are more rare now, a function of their incompatibility with the churn-and-burn binge-viewing nature of the streaming model. Easier to just click the “skip” button, or “next episode”, and get on with it.

Instant gratification saves time, certainly, but in the process something is lost that perhaps should not have been. There is value in waiting. Part of what makes Christmas so special is the month long run-up that precedes it. There is also something captivating and mysterious about the idea of being treated to a show. To the knowledge that we can’t speed things up at a whim. That we can’t just skip to the good stuff. It is satisfying in a way that the wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am rhythm of streaming will never be able to deliver. And it’s hard not to wonder if the old ways of network TV might not have been good for us in some critical way we can no longer recall.

Sit down, relax…be still. Someone else is in charge for the next 26 minutes and you can’t skip ahead. You are not in control. If the episode ends in a cliffhanger, you’re going to have to wait a week to find out what happens. And that’s OK.

Everything moves faster now. And while it may be an article of faith at Wharton Business School that the customer is always right, there is no immutable law that says the customer will always be happier, or even better off, once they get it.

“Sometimes you wanna go…where everybody knows your name…and they’re always glad you came…”

The above closing line, of course, comes from perhaps my personal favorite of all the shows featured in the post’s embedded videos:

Cheers, Taxi, KRP, Kotter, M*A*S*H—they’re all here, folks, and it’s one hell of a great ride. No true child of the American 70s will want to miss this one, and definitely shouldn’t.

(Via Stephen Green)

Update! The comments-section discussion betwixt myself and Barry compels me to append a typical, wonderfully silly cab-depot exchange featuring Andy Kauffman as Latka Gravas and the incomparable Christopher Lloyd as the Reverend Jim Ignatowski in Taxi.

Heh. LOVE that show. What kinda disturbs me is that, what with all the things that have slipped from my increasingly unreliable memory over recent years, I can still recall both Kaufman’s and Llloyd’s characters full names without batting an eye.

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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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