Category: Brilliant!

Tulsi vivisects Kumala

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You go, girl.


OUCH, ma’am! Better stick to something you know, Kummy. Like, say, suck-starting your stalled career by gobbing useful higher-up knobs.

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Putting his money where his mouth is

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Still don’t like Elon Musk, or think him a “phony” or something? I strongly suggest you get over it, then.

BREAKING: Elon Musk Commits Staggering Amount of Cash Every MONTH
Elon Musk reportedly plans to funnel approximately $45 million monthly into a new super political action committee (super PAC) supporting former President Donald Trump’s presidential bid. Sources familiar with the situation revealed this information to the Wall Street Journal.

The committee, named America PAC, boasts an impressive roster of backers, such as Joe Lonsdale, co-founder of Palantir Technologies; the Winklevoss twins; former U.S. ambassador to Canada Kelly Craft; and her husband, Joe Craft, CEO of Alliance Resource Partners, a prominent coal producer.

“Formed in June, America PAC is focused on registering voters and convincing constituents to vote early and request mail-in ballots in swing states, according to one of the people,” the Wall Street Journal reports. “The coalition assessed that the Democrats have historically had very robust ‘get out the vote’ campaigns and took note of the amounts of money that the Biden administration has dedicated to so-called ‘on the ground’ efforts in swing states. America PAC will try to counter that.”

Over 43% of the votes cast in the 2020 presidential election were mail-in ballots — the largest margin in history— and it is widely believed the Democrats’ embrace of mail-in voting tipped the 2020 presidential election to Joe Biden.

This effort by Musk and his co-backers will be a tremendous force to help counter the Democrats’ mail-in ballot strategy.

So we must hope. Whether it works out that way or not, I say again: good on ya, Elon.

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The man, the moment, the legend

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An inspirational message from President Donald John Trump.

May God forever bless and keep you, sir.

And so, thanks entirely to the vile, vicious Left’s arrogance; their reckless, incandescent hatred; their fathomless self-regard; and their unquenchable lust for absolute power and control…well, here we all are at last, forced all unwilling into the dreadful corner none of us ever wished to find ourselves in, nor dreamed we ever would.

Fittingly enough for historical illiterates such as they, once again it’s just as ADM Yamamoto memorably, sorrowfully, and presciently esteemed in a bygone era the ineducable Left knows not of: all they have done is to awaken a sleeping giant and fill him with a terrible resolve. If any of y’all rowdies and/or rapscallions want to think of it as, say, Hirohito’s Folly Redux, I’ll cheerfully put a “yeppers” to it.

Remember “all we wanted was to be left alone”? Well, they flatly refused to honor that most humble of requests, though they easily might have with no inconvenience or loss to themselves of any conceivable sort. Alas and alack, that’s all over and done with now; to the incalculable cost of one and all, that good ship and true has officially sailed, with the vain fantasy of “peaceful coexistence” aboard her. May they be made to regret this fateful miscalculation—profoundly, agonizingly, and without surcease—for however long they have left to live.

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Showdown at the Bundy ranch

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Divemedic posts an important, timely reminder of how it’s fucking DONE, saying:

To those who say that citizens armed with AR15s can’t beat the Federal government, I remind you of the events that happened a decade ago…

Indeed. Suggestive of a little something of my own devising I’ll dub Bedford Forrest’s Law of Government©: If you keep the skeer on ‘em, they will retreat. Now for DM’s call-out:


Henceforth, Real Americans should celebrate April 12th as if it was Independence Day v2.0. Because, as historical events go, that’s exactly what it is.

Update! The classical station just played Rossini’s Overture to The Barber of Seville, which put me in mind of the perfect musical accompaniment for this post.

The ever-excellent Gioachino Rossini also, of course. One of my verymost favorite orchestral-music composers of them all, and small wonder. For me, it’s not so much the Three B’s (Bach, Beethoven, and Brahms, two of whom I’ve never really liked all that much) as it is the Four Non-Contiguous Consonants: Mozart, Beethoven, Schubert, and Rossini. Might ought to’ve worked Chopin, Haydn, Tchaichovsky, Rachmaninoff, and Verdi into the mix too, but what the hell. You can’t please all the people all of the time, and should never try lest you wind up shitting and falling back in it, as my stern, tough as parboiled steer-hide, wise old Grandmaw Hubbard—better known to three generations of Hubbards and McAllisters as “Big Mama”—liked to caution her grand-young’uns.

Unrelated update! OT side-note: Just thought I’d let all interested parties know that the anti-spam plugin I installed last night, available here, seems to be working like a charm so far—not so much as a hint of a murmur of a whisper of a breath from the thrice-bedamned spamsterbot hordes as of yet, thank goodness. Hope I didn’t jinx myself by mentioning it. Sort of like what I’ve always maintained: you never, EVER say things like “What next?” or ‘How much worse can it be?” in the midst of some travail or tribulation—because God takes such expostulations as a challenge or dare, and will assuredly get busy toot sweet showing you what’s next, and just how much worse it could be.

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And the b(l)eat goes on

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There’s just no hope at all for some “people.”


FAIR WARNING: It’s a long ‘un, brimming o’er with more of the same species of delusional codswallop, in case anyone wants to befoul himself by clicking over for the rest—an irrational, self-destructive inclination I won’t even pretend to understand. No, I will NOT be C&P’ing the extended post-“Show more” twaddle this time out, because fuck that noise.

Happily, Meestah COL Schlichter courageously steps in to flush the noxious turd down the stink-pipe and away before it can smell up the joint beyond hope of repair.


In the case of the esteemed COL Schlichter, unlike the previous asswart, I’m only too happy to provide the rest of the clickbait story for y’all.

…If he pulls out, it is a confession of his total inadequacy and failure, and I celebrate his humiliation. But he’s not going to be pulling out, because to do that would be to put the needs of other people and the country ahead of his own ego and he’ll never do that because he’s a bad, bad person.

And so is his wife.

WHOA, that’s good squishy!

As the overbooked proctologist reputedly complained to his frazzled assistant: Is there no end to these assholes?

Grateful thanks to Schlichter for the speedy, selfless save; hope your singed nostril-hairs grow back in with no complications or discomfort, Kurt. As for the blistered paint, cracked window-glass, and damaged thundermug, pas de sweat; that ain’t on you, buddy, you already did your bit and then some. Above and beyond the call, I’d say. Next time you’re moved to deal out another righteous smackdown to some deserving dumbass, may I recommend using both backhand AND forehand strokes in your delivery, so as to ensure the intended lesson is not merely learned, but permanently instilled. Additionally, as every serious golfer knows, a vigorous, complete follow-through is critical, particularly with the more stubborn, marginally-educable specimens.

Elsewhere, our pal Aesop examines another self-inflicted auto-da-fé, this one starring a violence-avowing, Biden-fellating punkass beeyotch who now faces follow-on consequences far more dire, including but in no wise restricted to:

  • Loss of employment, professional reputation/status, and career prospects
  • Federal criminal investigation, possible indictment and/or prosecution for issuing serial terroristic threats, aggravated by repeated witting, brazenly non-metaphorical exhortations to widespread murder, mayhem, civil disorder, even the assassination of a specifically-identified former President/current lawful major-party candidate as well as the respectable, law-abiding civilians who support his Presidential campaign
  • Social shunning, banishment, and/or informal exile
  • Eviction, homelessness, soul-scarring poverty
  • Sundry other dick-in-the-meatgrinder repercussions

It’s a joy to behold, far as I’m concerned.

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The song that wouldn’t die

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That would be “The Farewell Song,” author unknown, better known as…well here, see for yourself.

Thanks much to Lakeside Joe for reminding me of this one, in the course of making sport of hapless shitlib George Effing Clooney’s despairing agony over (not so) recent revelations regarding the collapse into senile dementia of his love-object Xombie Jaux “Walks Among Us” Bribem. Sayeth Joe:

According to news sources including the New York Slimes, Clooney made the call for a new candidate in an op-ed published in The New York Times, less than a month after he co-hosted a Biden fundraiser that raised some $30 million. 

I guess the song rings true after all…

Heh. It does at that, for all sorts of excellent reasons. Now, it must be acknowledged that Clooney’s lip-sync performance of the great old bluegrass tune in O Brother Where Art Thou? is nothing short of masterful. While we’re on the subject, the song’s backstory is fascinating, if a bit murky in places. For starters, although I put it in the “author unknown” category earlier, it would be more accurate to say that it’s a matter of some dispute.

Behind The Song: The Soggy Bottom Boys, “I Am a Man Of Constant Sorrow”
You’d think after one hundred years, “Man Of Constant Sorrow” would eventually get old. But the American folk standard, which has been covered by everyone from a young Bob Dylan to Norwegian girl-group Katzenjammer, and helped launch the modern Americana movement with its canny placement in the film O Brother, Where Art Thou?, has been on music lovers’ collective minds since at least 1913. Through many different melodies, rewrites, and iterations (“girl,” “soul,” etc.) “Man Of Constant Sorrow” has refused to die.

It’s the old-timey gift that keeps on giving; feeling bad never felt so good.

Anybody familiar with the Oscar-nominated O Brother and its multi-platinum-selling soundtrack can sing a verse or two. T Bone Burnett, who produces every third commercially released record these days, curated the music for the Coen Brothers’ celebrated sepia-toned satire, and made the song The Soggy Bottom Boy’s big, show-stealing number. Portrayed by George Clooney, George Nelson and John Turtorro, who may or may not be able to carry a tune, the real-life vocals for The Soggy Bottom Boys were provided by Nashville songwriter Harley Allen, bluegrass musician Pat Enright, and Dan Tyminksi, a guitar and mandolin player on loan from Alison Krauss and Union Station. Tyminski’s big, beautiful bear of a voice, echoed by Enright and Allen’s brown-sugared harmonies, brimmed with enough soul, grit and fire to make a distracted nation stand up and take notice. In a movie that featured strong vocal turns from Ralph Stanley, Gillian Welch and Alison Krauss, Tyminski more than held his own. He also sang the song as if he’d lived it, and with such conviction that it eventually made it to No. 35 on the Billboard Hot Country Singles chart in 2002. O Brother helped make Tyminski, Krauss, Welch and Burnett the highly respected (and marketable) artists they are today, and spawned a fantastic music tour and the live concert film Down From The Mountain. There was a trickle-down effect as well, which can be seen in the thriving careers of today’s heavily hyped, acoustic-leaning acts like The Avett Brothers and Mumford & Sons.

Neither movies, album sales, or inexplicably popular British folk acts were likely on the mind of the song’s creator, current name and whereabouts unknown. It’s speculated that it spilled from the pen of Dick Burnett (a distant relative of T Bone?), a mostly blind fiddler from Kentucky, but that’s not confirmable. Burnett, who published the tune under the name “Farewell Song” in a 1913 songbook, had a senior moment when he was asked if he had actually written it, stating “I think I got the ballad from somebody…I dunno. It may be my song.” Ralph Stanley didn’t think so. The bluegrass legend told NPR that the song was probably one or two hundred years older than Burnett himself. “The first time I heard it I was a small boy,” recalled Stanley, who named his autobiography after it. “My daddy had some of the words to it, and I heard him sing it, and my brother and me, we put a few more words to it, and brought it back in existence. I guess if it hadn’t been for that, it’d have been gone forever.”

Far be it from me to ever gainsay the legendary Ralph Stanley; if he says he wrote it, whether in part or in full, then by God it MUST be so, period. Anyways.

As The Stanley Brothers, Ralph and his brother Carter gave the song its big coming out party in 1951, when they cut it for Columbia Records. Once it was absorbed into the folk music canon, Bob Dylan took a shine to it, recording it on his 1961 debut covers album, Bob Dylan. Dylan’s version is far more sorrowful than the O Brother version, with a melody that’s quite different from Tyminski’s. And like the rest of the record, it shows off his unique ability to impersonate a weathered, phlegmatic old man (long before he would actually become one.) But Joan Baez, his future duet partner, got there first, spicing it up pronoun-wise (as she was wont to do) by turning it into “Girl Of Constant Sorrow” (perhaps taking her cue from widower Sarah Ogan Gunning’s lyrical rewrite in 1936). Judy Collins followed suit in ‘61; her debut album was dubbed A Maid Of Constant Sorrow, and it sure was melancholy.

If everyone could agree on the effectiveness of the song’s central conceit, no one seems to be able to come up with a consensus on the words. The O Brother version has this choice nugget: You can bury me in some deep valley / For many years where I may lay / Then you may learn to love another/ While I am sleeping in my grave.” Dylan’s version has no such verse, but plays up the young, rebellious boyfriend aspect: “You’re mother says I’m a stranger, my face you’ll never see no more,” he tells his soon to be ex-lover, before promising to sneak around with her in heaven. Dylan’s protagonist wanders “through ice and snow, sleet and rain,” while Stanley’s spends “six long years in trouble,” with no friends to help him now.

Whether the singer is saying goodbye to old Kentucky (Tyminski), Colorado (Dylan), or California (Collins), somebody is getting the big kiss off. “Man Of Constant Sorrow” is essentially one of America’s oldest breakup songs. “If I knew how bad you’d treat me, honey I never would have come.” It’s that sunny outlook that has helped “Man Of Constant Sorrow” remain an essential part of popular music’s long, constantly evolving story.

As any good Southern boy could tell you, it points up the strange paradox inherent in the bluegrass genre: instrumentally, it’s the ultimate feel-good music; no way can you be downhearted whilst listening to that good ol’ mountain music. The sound is bouncy, uplifting, joyous, making the spirit soar and the heart fairly leap up into your mouth with gladness. Seriously, now: banjos, mandolins, fiddles, guitars, Dobros, all played up-tempo with a lilting, infectious beat? I defy ANYBODY to keep from smiling, do-si-do-ing, and hand-clapping along! Pass me that jug of good old mountain dew, willya?

Lyrically, however, we’ve a whole ‘nother kettle o’ fish. Bluegrass lyrics are some of the verymost depressing you’ll ever hear, in any musical style, revolving around death and murder and suicide and loss and loneliness and heartbreak and regret. Even as unrelievedly morose a specimen of opera seria as Mozart’s troubling Don Giovanni isn’t in the same league with bluegrass. “Man Of Constant Sorrow” is a pluperfect manifestation of bluegrass’s bizarre built-in dichotomy. To wit:

[Verse 3]
It’s fare thee well, my old true lover
I never expect to see you again
For I’m bound to ride that Northern Railroad
Perhaps I’ll die upon this train
(Perhaps he’ll die upon this train)

[Verse 4]
You can bury me in some deep valley
And you may learn to love another
While I am sleeping in my grave
(While he is sleeping in his grave)

[Verse 5]
Maybe your friends think I’m just a stranger
My face you never will see no more
But there is one promise that is given
I’ll meet you on God’s golden shore
(He’ll meet you on God’s golden shore)

That last verse is the closest bluegrass lyrics ever get to sweetness, light, and cheery optimism. You can take my word for it on that, gang; I’ve loved the genre nearly as long as I’ve been alive, therefore know whereof I speak. Grim? Granted. Bleak? Beyond debate. Depressing? Well, I mean, duh. But somehow bluegrass just rocks me right down to my socks nevertheless, always has done. Could be it’s just a Southern thang, I dunno.

In fact, in my first decade or so of digging on the bluegrass I listened to the instrumental stuff exclusively; I didn’t really start paying attention to the with-vocals variety until I gave the vocal stylings of icons like Mac Wiseman, the Stanleys, Red Allen, and Bill Monroe in my late 20s a few reluctant listens rather than fast-forwarding to the next instrumental, the fruits of a remainder-bin compilation cassette I bought at some truck stop or other featuring those and several other fabled vocalists I’d studiously avoided up til then.

In addition to George Clooney’s excellent lip-syncing (and, of course, nonpareil jig-reeling), a big, bodacious tip of the CF chapeau is due to Dan Tyminski, the fellow responsible for the actual singing Clooney rose to the occasion of so adroitly. Note ye well, please, the flawless phrasing and emotive depth and breadth Tyminski brings to the party. Lots of musical-minded folks have insisted for decades that Sinatra’s phrasing has never been equalled, nor even approached, with which I won’t quarrel here. That said, Tyminski doesn’t suffer any from the comparison with Ol’ Blue Eyes, in my expert, well-trained opinion.

All in all, it’s no wonder “Man Of Constant Sorrow” has enjoyed over a century’s worth of staying power. Being one of those small musical miracles that can raise goosebumps on the forearms of even the most jaded, world-weary aficionado, it’s probably good for another century or two at the very least. And how many other pop/folk confections, of any sub-genre, can say that?

Seeing as how I’ve yet to bring up bluegrass around Ye Aulde Hogwallowe, for some unknowable reason, we’ll instate a new category just for that sort of thing.

Hero in a grey hoodie

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They don’t always wear brightly-colored tights and a cape, you know.

A Man Who Mows Lawns For Free Saved A Cat Sanctuary From Shutting Down
Today’s good news story comes from Corpus Christi, Texas.

In a heartwarming turn of events, Spencer, a dedicated man from SB Mowing who cuts overgrown lawns for free, recently found himself at the center of an extraordinary rescue mission.

Spencer, known for cleaning up neglected properties across the country and sharing his work on social media, stumbled upon an injured cat while on the job, leading to the revival of an entire cat sanctuary.

While clearing the overgrown lawn, Spencer discovered a severely injured cat hidden deep in the grass. The cat had an infected abscess under its arm and was unable to move.

“He seemed like he was ready to lay there until he passed away from infection,” Spencer recalled. Desperate to help, Spencer contacted several places, but none were willing to take the cat in.

His persistence paid off when he reached out to Edgar and Ivy’s Cat Sanctuary. The sanctuary, specializing in the care of injured, hurt, and abused cats, agreed to take the cat in and provide the necessary medical treatment. Moved by their kindness, Spencer decided to launch a GoFundMe campaign to support the sanctuary, aiming to raise $10,000.

Anissa Beal, the director of Edgar and Ivy’s, revealed that the sanctuary was on the brink of closure. “He said, ‘Maybe I can get you $10,000 or something.’ And I said, ‘That would be life-changing,'” Beal said. The sanctuary had been struggling financially, with Beal spending half of her income to keep it running. She had been praying for a sign to continue her work.

The response to Spencer’s campaign was overwhelming. Since sharing the GoFundMe link with his millions of followers, over $187,000 has been raised for Edgar and Ivy’s Cat Sanctuary. Additionally, four Amazon trucks loaded with donations arrived at the sanctuary, providing much-needed supplies.

“It was a miracle, and it makes me emotional to think that so many people could care about us and about this cat and what we’re doing,” Beal expressed. “I’m afraid I’m going to wake up and that it’s not true. This is beyond anything I could have ever imagined.”

Go watch the embedded video at the end of the piece to learn how very much dust there is floating around in your home-office or computer room; there’s bound to be a lot more of it than you suspect—enormous eye-stinging clouds of it, in fact. Be sure to have a family-size box of Kleenex close at hand when you do, that’s my advice.

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Said it before, gonna say it again: greatest USSC Justice EVAR

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Guess who.

Justice Thomas: Of course, the AR-15 is legal under Second Amendment
Supreme Court Associate Justice Clarence Thomas showed his hand on Tuesday on the issue of whether AR-15-style rifles are legal. His Second Amendment analysis: They are.

In a brief dissent related to an Illinois ban on the “assault weapon,” Thomas said that the overwhelming popularity of the firearm, coupled with its non-military operation, makes it a clear fit under the Second Amendment.

His comments come as President Joe Biden is stepping up his assault on the popular “modern sporting rifle.” Biden was behind the 1994 ban and has been seeking to ban it since that law died in 2004.

The AR-15 has become the most popular rifle in America. The National Shooting Sports Foundation said that at 28.1 million, there are more AR-15-style firearms in circulation than Ford F-150s on the road.

The 7th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals denied the petitioners’ request for a preliminary injunction, saying the AR-15 is not protected by the Second Amendment. The Supreme Court justices have declined to get involved for now.

“We are obviously very disappointed for the millions of legal gun owners in Illinois by today’s decision not to grant emergency relief, but we’re not giving up. And today’s decision does not impact the merits of our case for our upcoming hearing on September 16h in the Southern District of Illinois,” ISRA Executive Director Richard Pearson said.

“Our objective from the very beginning of the process that started the moment Gov. Pritzker signed the bill into law — was to take our case to the United States Supreme Court. And we followed through on that promise, and despite today’s decision — if given the chance, we’d do it all over again because it is the right thing to do,” Pearson said.

Thomas encouraged that plan. “If the Seventh Circuit ultimately allows Illinois to ban America’s most common civilian rifle, we can — and should — review that decision once the cases reach a final judgment. The Court must not permit ‘the Seventh Circuit [to] relegat[e] the Second Amendment to a second-class right,’” the Supreme Court justice wrote.

Give ‘em pure-T hell, Mr Justice Thomas, sir. Gee, wonder why the shitlibs hate the man with such bitter, wild-eyed ferocity.  Puzzling, innit?

Lest we forget, “nice guy” and “good, good man” Pedaux Jaux Bribem was one of the main players behind the fabricated smear-job accusations hurled at Thomas during his SC confirmation hearings high-tech lynching, an abominable circus that put paid once and for all to the ludicrous mischaracterization of the US Senate as “the world’s greatest deliberative body.”

Oh, and about that “good, good man” nonsense.

The talking points must have gone out within minutes of the end of President Joe Biden’s lame debate performance. Among the first to tell us just how fine a man Biden was Barack Obama, who called his former vice president “someone who has fought for ordinary folks his entire life.” It is, of course, a lie. Biden is not a good man, and the idea he’s “fought for ordinary folks” for even a single day of his “public service” is risible.

Obama’s tweet also claimed that Biden is the candidate “who knows right from wrong and will give it to the American people straight.” From there, the gaslighting grew exponentially worse.

At a July 2 fundraiser in Virginia, Democratic Rep. Don Beyer, whom Biden once called “Doug,” compared our disabled president to Jesus.

“​​He has been a good, good man. He’s resilient, optimistic, indefatigable, and above all courageous,” said Boyer.

On the day after the debate, New York Times columnist Thomas Friedman, who admitted that watching the debate made him “weep,” assured us that Biden is “a good man and a good president.”

There was even a book published in 2020 that had the title “A Good & Decent Man: Joe Biden: Rescuing America.”

After wading hip deep through the malarkey, let’s look at the Biden record.

Read on for the ugly reality, which bears not even a passing resemblance to the above hagiographic, knob-polishing codswallop.

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The one and only

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At long, long last, a candidate I can get behind with all my heart, soul, mind, spirit, and body, to my last ounce of strength.

Sometimes the right person emerges. When we needed a person to see us through the War for Independence and to serve as this new nation’s first president, Washington emerged. When Britain found itself fighting for its life against Nazi Germany, Churchill emerged. When our country was tearing itself apart over the slavery question, Lincoln emerged.

And now, in our troubled times, David ‘Iowahawk’ Burge has emerged.

Man, has he ever. And how.



The above infuriatingly-truncated “Read more” passage ends thusly: “…leave office after four years.” Which is of course a baldfaced lie, or so we must hope; President-for-Life the Right Hon Mr David NMI Burge would be totally jake with me, I gots no objection, although YMMV. If so, please keep it on the down-low, I really don’t wanna know. It would pain me no end to see any of my beloved CF Lifers permanently beclown himself by publicly confessing to such disgraceful Wrongthink as that.

At any rate, the laff-train keeps a-rolling all night long from there:



Lots, lots more after that one, every last syllable likewise meeting or surpassing the impossibly-high IowahawkCorp© standards for Beverage-Spewing Hilarity, Aggravated GutBustery w/HowlinglyFunny cluster, and/or RightdafuckON, Muhfuhgr! we’ve all come to expect from that crazy-ass fool.

FULL DISCLOSURE OF UNACCEPTABLE JOURNALISMIC BIAS: I’ve been good buds with the legendary David Burge (FACT CHECK: NOT his real name, nor is “Iowahawk,” astonishingly enough) for quite a few years, although over the last several we’ve fallen out of touch, to my boundless regret and ensorrowment.

Dave, if you happen across this, my phone # has changed since we last talked, so do please kite me one of them newfangled electronic-mail thingamabobbers instead (mike-at-cf-dot-etc) when you get a spare minute, wouldja? I realize you’re a busy, busy beaver and all, but I’d truly admire to hear from ya, old friend, it’s been way too long. Hope this missive finds you still fightin’ fit, happy as some clams, and generally doing well—seeing’s how “doing good” sorta cuts against your usual warp and woof and so would feel pretty dang weird, probably for both of us.

Best wishes for fair winds and following seas on your write-in White House run; we could certainly do worse for a Prez-mo-dent, MUCH worse, and likely will. Gaia knows we have, more than just once, twice, or thrice at that.

And to think, the Beltway (Butt)Bandits consider Trump an outsider.

T’would serve those never-to-be-sufficiently-damned Swamp-rats right, sayeth moi.

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Cowboy UP!

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A couple of fascinating, mind-blowing behind-the-scenes accounts from the Trump years I hadn’t heard of before now.

Was This President Trump’s Ballsiest Play Ever?
As President, Donald Trump’s ballsiest moment might have come as he was negotiating an end to our two-decade presence in Afghanistan. Rep. Wesley Hunt (R-Tex.) told the story to Sage Steele on a recent video podcast.

“I want to leave Afghanistan,” Trump is supposed to have said at a high-level meeting with the Taliban. “But it’s going to be a conditions-based withdrawal.” Hunt recalled Trump saying, “If you harm a hair on a single American, I’m going to kill you.”

After the translator did his bit — and Hunt indicated that the translator was shocked by Trump’s statement and hesitated before passing it along — Trump pulled a picture of the Taliban leader’s home out of his pocket, handed it to him, and then left.

Statement. Made.

“If this is not the most gangster thing I’ve ever heard,” one X user posted, “I don’t know what is.”

Indeed it is. Ah, but does it get even better from there, you ask? Why, yes. Yes, it certainly does.

But was that really President Trump’s ballsiest moment? Maybe. 

Or maybe it comes in second place to this classic power play against Russian strongman Vladimir Putin.

Trump once told the story to friend and golf pro John Daly about the time he put The Fear of God into Putin, too. 

“They’re all saying, ‘Oh, he’s a nuclear power. It’s like they’re afraid of him,’” Trump told Daly, referring to Putin, in the call posted on Instagram Friday.

“You know, he was a friend of mine,” Trump preened. “I got along great with him.”

But Trump insisted on the call that he also played tough with his buddy. If Putin invaded Ukraine, Trump claimed he warned him: “We’re gonna hit Moscow.” And “he sort of believed me, like 5%, 10%,” Trump added. “That’s all you need. He never did it during my time, John, you know…He didn’t do this during the last four years because he knew he couldn’t,” Trump added.

This is where I’d remind you that Putin seized Crimea and much of the Donbas in 2014 while Barack Obama was our commander-in-chief and launched his full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022 on Presidentish Joe Biden’s watch. Things were certainly tense between Kyiv and Moscow while Trump was in the Oval Office, but Putin’s comparative timidity from 2017 through 2020 certainly lends credence to Trump’s story.

Trump understands that the real trick to being powerful on the world stage is to appear just crazy enough to use that power — and then you almost never have to.

Well, of course he does. Why do you think the shitlibs hate the guy so frenetically, so desperately, that the mere thought of him somehow becoming President again drives them into agonies of inchoate rage, despair, and daylight barking madness? OMB constitutes the only serious, credible threat to the Long March of the authoritarian/totalitarian/collectivist agenda in many a moon.

As for Trump’s folksy, politically-canny evaluation of Putin as “a friend of mine,” I am reminded of something I wrote about here at the time, more than once. In the early innings of his term as POTUS, Trump publicly suggested that he and Putin should work together to end the scourge of Moslem terrorism once and for all—a bold, unprecedented overture that Putin seemed to find intriguing, judging by his initial guarded but nonetheless encouraging response. Naturally and to the surprise of exactly no one, taxonomical sub-genus Leftardus Diabolus© got busy strangling the notional alliance in the crib via their “Russian collusion” stratagem. And that, friends, was the end of that.

Verily, the perfidious scumsacks have much to answer for. Although the ignominious episode is all but forgotten by now, the numbskull Left’s sabotage of President Trump’s worthy proposal—a noteworthy example of shrewd, outside-the-box creative thinking which could have been of incalculable benefit not to just the US and Russia alone, but to Western Civ entire, in all kinds of unexpected ways—must surely be in that number.

Update! Trump’s side-splitting July 4th message to his fellow Americans, courtesy of Alex Jones.

Heh. Good rip, Mr President, sir.

Big brass update! Fran chimes in with another confirmatory example of Trump’s church-bell-sized testicular endowment.

But while the above is indeed impressive, something a bit more recent has impressed me even more.

Donald Trump has known for several years that his political adversaries don’t just disagree with him; they want him dead or imprisoned for life. That’s been ever more openly displayed as time has passed. Nevertheless, he campaigned to return to the office that was stolen from him, intensifying his enemies’ animus. He’s also openly attacked them for what they’ve done, starting with their theft of the 2020 election and going straight on from there, such that they’ve had to fear for their own freedom should he defeat them. He’s never attempted to moderate his attacks on them; therefore they must know that in a regime of objective justice restored, they will truly be at hazard.

Of course, much of that could be dismissed as bluster; after all, politicians are known for that sort of behavior. But Trump has never backed down. When the opposition was foolish enough to accept his challenge to a debate, and demanded a slew of conditions all of which were slanted in their favor, Trump, sure of the solidity of the ground on which he stood, simply agreed to all of it. Political commentators far and wide were certain he’d made a terrible blunder. They predicted a disaster that would cripple Trump irrevocably.

But Trump was right and they were wrong. His June 27th “debate” with Joe Biden was a spectacular triumph. It has made him almost impossible to beat come November. Somehow, he knew that it would be that way, despite the predictions of all the major-media figures who foresaw a terrible setback for him.

As COL Joseph Ives famously said of the great Robert E Lee and audacity, “Fearless” might be Trump’s name. The line between fearlessness and hubris is as fine and thin as hair on a frog’s back, admittedly, so we won’t know for sure which of those descriptors apply to OMB until the particulars of his ongoing persecution have all played out to their respective conclusions. Personally, I’m inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt and make the call for “fearless,” but could be that’s just the child-like optimist in me talking.

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The American Theory of Government

Posted on      by     

Via Glenn, Randy Barnette nails it down clean and tight.

What the Declaration of Independence Said and Meant
It officially adopted the American Theory of Government: First Come Rights; Then Comes Government to Secure These Rights.

The Declaration of Independence used to be read aloud at public gatherings every Fourth of July. Today, while all Americans have heard of it, all too few have read more than its second sentence. Yet the Declaration shows the natural rights foundation of the American Revolution, and provides important information about what the founders believed makes a constitution or government legitimate. It also raises the question of how these fundamental rights are reconciled with the idea of “the consent of the governed,” another idea for which the Declaration is famous.

The adoption of the Declaration, and the public affirmation of its principles, led directly to the phased in abolition of slavery in half of the United States by the time the Constitution was drafted—as well as the abolition of slavery in the Northwest Territory.

When reading the Declaration, it is worth keeping in mind two very important facts. The Declaration constituted high treason against the Crown. Every person who signed it would be executed as traitors should they be caught by the British. Second, the Declaration was considered to be a legal document by which the revolutionaries justified their actions and explained why they were not truly traitors. It represented, as it were, a literal indictment of the Crown and Parliament, in the very same way that criminals are now publicly indicted for their alleged crimes by grand juries representing “the People.”

But to justify a revolution, it was not thought to be enough that officials of the government of England, the Parliament, or even the sovereign himself had violated the rights of the people. No government is perfect; all governments violate rights. This was well known. So the Americans had to allege more than mere violations of rights. They had to allege nothing short of a criminal conspiracy to violate their rights systematically. Hence, the famous reference to “a long train of abuses and usurpations” and the list that follows the first two paragraphs. In some cases, these specific complaints account for provisions eventually included in the Constitution and Bill of Rights.

The Declaration is like the indictment of a criminal that states the basis of his criminality. But the ultimate judge of the rightness of their cause will be God, which is why the revolutionaries spoke of an “appeal to heaven”—an expression commonly found on revolutionary banners and flags. As British political theorist John Locke wrote: “The people have no other remedy in this, as in all other cases where they have no judge on earth, but to appeal to heaven.” The reference to a “decent respect to the opinions of mankind” might be viewed as a kind of an international public opinion test. Or perhaps the emphasis is on the word “respect,” recognizing the obligation to provide the rest of the world with an explanation they can evaluate for themselves.

Lots more yet to this one, all of it well worth perusing, and reflecting carefully on.

Update! What more fitting op’ratoon-i-teh for a rousing musical thunderclap from the only American composer of orchestral music that truly matters—the incomparable Aaron Copland, of course—performed with tremendous skill, joy, and élan by the National Youth Orchestra of the United States of America.

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Take it back

Posted on      by     

Sayeth Eric Peters, and I could not possibly agree more.

Tomorrow is the 4th of July, the day Americans traditionally celebrate the independence of the American colonies that became states (plural) from Great Britain, which was not accomplished by asking for it.

The American colonists – some of them, a determined minority of them – took their independence.

And now the time has come to take it back.

Americans live in a consolidated state controlled by a central government so controlling it is challenging to come up with anything at all that it considers to be beyond its control. No one can be independent when subject to such control.

Americans are obliged to submit to such control at practically every turn. The only control they are permitted is to cast a single vote out of tens of millions for one of two controllers. We will not elect our way out of this. There is only one way out of this. It is the same way the American colonists got away from the control of king and parliament.

They got away from it.

Certainly, they had to fight for it. But what came before it came to fighting? The determination by a committed minority of Americans that they would no longer abide being controlled by king and parliament – and, implicitly, by anyone else. That was the spirit that animated the fighting, without which the fight would have been lost. The Americans who fought were out-manned and out-gunned in every battle that was fought, just about – especially the early ones. But it was what they were fighting for that made each man worth more than just a man (of which the British had plenty). Put another way, when a man fights for himself – and for his family and his friends – he has a lot more incentive to fight than a man who fights for a paycheck.

Give me liberty or give me death.

It is hard to fight men animated by such a sentiment. It is also hard to conquer them. John Adams, the second president of what became the United States (still plural when Adams was president) said that the fight for independence was won before the fight started when a minority of committed Americans decided the time had come to fight. Put another way, when those Americans came manfully face-to-face with the hard reality that independence would not be achieved by asking for it.

Perhaps a sufficient minority of committed Americans understands this now. Are you one of them?

Are you willing to take your independence back? For your own sake? For the sake of your children – and theirs, yet to be born?

That truly IS the burning question for all Real Americans at this point, isn’t it? Eric goes on to stipulate that it doesn’t necessarily have to come to actual, physical violence, although it very well might—and in my view almost certainly will, although I’d be nothing short of ecstatic to be proven wrong on that. Whichever way things go from here, this superb piece is inarguably one of the most stirring 4th of July paeans to American liberty I’ve ever read.

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Golden opportunity, seized

Posted on      by     

I’m running this one for one reason and one reason only, which will be disclosed after the excerpt.

Cannabis appears to improve orgasmic function in women, according to new research
Recent research published in the journal Sexual Medicine suggests that cannabis use before sex may help women who experience difficulties achieving orgasm. Among women who reported difficulties achieving orgasm, a significant majority reported improvements in orgasm frequency, ease, and satisfaction when using cannabis before partnered sex.

Female orgasmic dysfunction is a sexual disorder characterized by a persistent or recurrent difficulty in achieving orgasm, despite adequate sexual stimulation and arousal. This condition can cause significant distress and affect a woman’s quality of life and relationships. Despite its prevalence, affecting up to 41% of women worldwide, effective treatments are limited.

Anecdotal evidence and previous studies have hinted at cannabis’s potential to enhance sexual experiences for women, but a systematic investigation was necessary to validate these claims. In this new study, researchers aimed to provide more substantial evidence that cannabis could be an effective treatment for women with orgasmic difficulties.

Okay, battlespace-prep complete. Now for the meat of the matter, in the form of a classic old-school biker joke I always got a giggle out of.

Q: How can you tell when a woman is having an orgasm?

A: Who the hell cares?!?

…….

Okay, okay, sorry. I just couldn’t help myself.

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