What if…?

You’ll never in a million years guess who the author of this brilliantly-conceived and -written piece is. I mean, never.

The quaint conceit of imagining what would have happened if some important or unimportant event had settled itself differently has become so fashionable that I am encouraged to enter upon an absurd speculation. What would have happened if Lee had not won the Battle of Gettysburg?

Once a great victory is won it dominates not only the future but the past. All the chains of consequence clink out as if they never could stop. The hopes that were shattered, the passions that were quelled, the sacrifices that were ineffectual are all swept out of the land of reality. Still it may amuse an idle hour, and perhaps serve as a corrective to undue complacency, if at this moment in the twentieth century—so rich in assurance and prosperity, so calm and buoyant—we meditate for a spell upon the debt we owe to those Confederate soldiers who by a deathless feat of arms broke the Union front at Gettysburg and laid open a fair future to the world.

It always amuses historians and philosophers to pick out the tiny things, the sharp agate points, on which the ponderous balance of destiny turns; and certainly the details of the famous Confederate victory of Gettysburg furnish a fertile theme. There can be at this date no conceivable doubt that Pickett’s charge would have been defeated if Stuart with his encircling cavalry had not arrived in the rear of the Union position at the supreme moment. Stuart might have been arrested in his decisive swoop if any one of twenty commonplace incidents had occurred.

If, for instance, General Meade had organized his lines of communication with posts for defence against raids, or if he had used his cavalry to scout upon his flanks, he would have received a timely warning. If General Warren had only thought of sending a battalion to hold Little Round Top the rapid advance of the masses of Confederate cavalry must have been detected. If only President Davis’s letter to General Lee, captured by Captain Dahlgren, revealing the Confederacy plans had reached Meade a few hours earlier, he might have escaped Lee’s clutches.

Anything, we repeat, might have prevented Lee’s magnificent combinations from synchronizing and, if so, Pickett’s repulse was sure. Gettysburg would have been a great Northern victory. It might have well been a final victory. Lee might, indeed, have made a successful retreat from the field. The Confederacy, with its skilful generals and fierce armies, might have another year, or even two, but once defeated decisively at Gettysburg, its doom was inevitable. The fall of Vicksburg, which happened only two days after Lee’s immortal triumph, would in itself by opening the Mississippi to the river fleets of the Union, have cut the Secessionist States almost in half. Without wishing to dogmatize, we feel we are on solid ground in saying that the Southern States could not have survived the loss of a great battle in Pennsylvania and the almost simultaneous bursting open of the Mississippi

However, all went well. Once again by the narrowest of margins the compulsive pinch of military genius and soldierly valor produced a perfect result. The panic which engulfed the whole left of Meade’s massive army has never been made a reproach against the Yankee troops. Everyone knows they were stout fellows. But defeat is defeat, and rout is ruin. Three days only were required after the cannon at Gettysburg had ceased to thunder before General Lee fixed his headquarters in Washington. We need not here dwell upon the ludicrous features of the hurried flight to New York of all the politicians, place hunters, contractors, sentimentalists and their retinues, which was so successfully accomplished. It is more agreeable to remember how Lincoln, “greatly falling with a falling State,” preserved the poise and dignity of a nation. Never did his rugged yet sublime common sense render a finer service to his countrymen. He was never greater than in the hour of fatal defeat.

But, of course, there is no doubt whatever that the mere military victory which Lee gained at Gettysburg would not by itself have altered the history of the world. The loss of Washington would not have affected the immense numerical preponderance of the Union States. The advanced situation of their capital and its fall would have exposed them to a grave injury, would no doubt have considerably prolonged the war; but standing by itself this military episode, dazzling though it may be, could not have prevented the ultimate victory of the North. It is in the political sphere that we have to look to find the explanation of the triumphs begun upon the battlefield.

Curiously enough, Lee furnishes an almost unique example of a regular and professional soldier who achieved the highest excellence both as a general and as a statesman. His ascendancy throughout the Confederate States on the morrow of his Gettysburg victory threw Jefferson Davis and his civil government irresistibly, indeed almost unconsciously, into the shade. The beloved and victorious commander, arriving in the capital of his mighty antagonists, found there the title deeds which enabled him to pronounce the grand decrees of peace. Thus it happened that the guns of Gettysburg fired virtually the last shots in the American Civil War.

…If Lee after his triumphal entry into Washington had merely been the soldier, his achievements would have ended on the battlefield. It was his august declaration that the victorious Confederacy would pursue no policy towards the African negroes, which was not in harmony with the moral conceptions of Western Europe, that opened the high roads along which we are now marching so prosperously.

But even this famous gesture might have failed if it had not been caught up and implemented by the practical genius and trained parliamentary aptitudes of Gladstone. There is practically no doubt at this stage that the basic principle upon which the colour question in the Southern States of America has been so happily settled owed its origin mainly to Gladstonian ingenuity and to the long statecraft of Britain in dealing with alien and more primitive populations. There was not only the need to declare the new fundamental relationship between master and servant, but the creation for the liberated slaves of institutions suited to their own cultural development and capable of affording them a different yet honourable status in a common wealth, destined eventually to become almost world-wide.

Let us only think what would have happened supposing the liberation of the slaves had at that time been followed immediately by some idiotic assertion of racial equality, and even by attempts to graft white democratic institutions upon the simple, gifted African race belonging to a much earlier chapter in human history. We might have seen the whole of the Southern States invaded by gangs of carpet-bagging politicians exploiting the ignorant and untutored coloured vote against the white inhabitants and bringing the time-honoured forms of parliamentary government into unmerited disrepute. We might have seen the sorry farce of black legislatures attempting to govern their former masters. Upon the rebound from this there must inevitably have been a strong reassertion of local white supremacy. By one device or another the franchises accorded to the negroes would have been taken from them. The constitutional principles of the Republic would have been proclaimed, only to be evaded or subverted; and many a warm-hearted philanthropist would have found his sojourn in the South no better than “A Fool’s Errand.”

Read on to find out who the author of this sagaciously prescient essay is, then go grab a look at the fascinating backstory of how it came to be written in the first place, including a piercing prefatory quote from no lesser a light than Shelby Foote his own self. From the previously mentioned backstory article, a shimmering vision of a nascent Utopia is proposed, in stark juxtaposition with something a good deal…less felicitous, shall we say.

The reader is invited to see, from that surprisingly utopian perspective, our own world as both dystopian and implausible. The narrator mentions Jan Bloch’s once-famous book, The Future of War, which predicted with what proved remarkably accurate military detail the devastation that would attend war between major European states. But Bloch drew from this prediction the conclusion that such a war would never happen. (The author) asks: Suppose it had? A prostrate Europe might have descended into depression, unemployment, Bolshevism and fascism. Why, today in Britain the income tax might even be 25%! (In actuality, of course, all those things happened.)

Parenthetical aside in the penultimate sentence courtesy of moi, so as to preserve the secret of our mystery-author’s identity and thereby avert spoiling the surprise for you folks.

Taken for all in all, the whole thing is dispiriting enough to call to mind the wise words of John Greenleaf Whittier from his “Maud Muller” pome:

Of all sad words of tongue and pen
The saddest are these, “It might have been.”

Le sigh. Ah well, as I said yesterday, it all went the way it went—and so, here we all are. Whether that’s for better or for worse, I leave to the reader to determine.

Be sure to read both these fine works in their entirety, and in the order I linked ‘em. I won’t go quite so far as to say you’ll enjoy them, necessarily; in fact, parts of the first piece are almost painful to read, for reasons which I’ll refrain from going into now because spoilers again, but which will quickly become apparent. That said, both are thought-provoking and conversation-inspiring enough that I think you’ll find them very rewarding nonetheless.

1

One for the Wirecutter

That would be OG blogger Ken Lane, who posted up a link to one of the better Nashville songwriters of this or any other era, the peerless Chris Stapleton.

A damned fine singer too, is our Mr Stapleton. Funny thing about him, he’s a dedicated player of a tragically overlooked guitar, the Fender Jazzmaster. As it happens, my first gee-tar was a 64 Jazzmaster, an extremely high-value axe nowadays (backstory here). Stapleton, of course, was also a founding member of contemporary-bluegrass titans The Steeldrivers, leading us into a bonus CT rip.

Man, if those flawless vocal harmonies don’t raise the chilblains on the back of your neck, I just don’t know how I can possibly be of any help to ya. More on CT’s, shall we say, eccentric gear preferences:

Chris Stapleton’s primary electric guitar for his solo career has been the Fender Jazzmaster. Unlike many country players, who are sworn to the twang and aggression of the Fender Telecaster, Chris has a real soft spot for this Fender timeless classic, telling Rolling Stone that he bought his first one in the mid-2000s. It was a 1962 Jazzmaster reissue in, of all colors, ocean turquoise, far from the elegant sunbursts and denim of most country guitarists. On the color, Stapleton said “It wasn’t a color I looked at and was going, “Oh man, I need that surf guitar!” But I played it and, like with a car, you can meld with things: This is my guitar. That’s how that happened. There is great comfort in knowing what your rig is and then you don’t have to fool with it anymore.”

Fender launched the Jazzmaster in 1958, intending it to be an upmarket version of the Stratocaster, not unlike Gibson’s delineation of their Custom and Standard ranges around the same time. The Jazzmaster, as its name suggests, was marketed at jazz guitarists of the era. However, it was quickly adopted by surf rock guitar players in the early 1960s who highly valued its reduced sustain and unique resonance when compared to other Fender models.

The Jazzmaster sets itself apart from other Fender guitars in several ways. One is its distinctively large body, far bigger and heavier than those of the Stratocaster, Telecaster, or even the similar silhouette of the Jaguar. The Jazzmaster also boasts large, white “soapbar” pickups that bear a striking resemblance to the Gibson P90. This similarity is purely cosmetic, however, with magnetic pole pieces on the Fender soapbar pickup as opposed to the P90’s magnets beneath the coil. The Jazzmaster coil is wound flat and wide, more so than that of the P90, and far more than any other Fender pickup.

Stapleton also developed a close working relationship with Fender, culminating in the Chris Stapleton Signature Model Princeton (!!) amp.

He actually bought his first 1962 Princeton in Ohio during a writing session with Peter Frampton. Of the original Princeton, he said “I use that amp still. That amp was a studio amp of mine for many years before I got hold of another one because I thought I should probably buy another one”.

The 1962 Princeton was initially marketed as a student amplifier, as its diminutive size and lower output would indicate. However, plenty of gigging musicians worked out that the Princeton’s smaller frame meant it could attain saturation and overdrive at lower volumes than many of its competitors. Rock, blues, and country players were particularly enamored of its rich, saturated drive tone as well as the sparkling cleans for which Fender amps are famous.

Chris Stapleton’s signature Princeton was built to the man’s own specifications. The story of this amp’s birth seems deceptively simple. Stapleton told Billboard that “this was borne out of me calling Fender up [and asking them] to build this amp for me…I wanted a new amp that looked like the old amp and worked like the old amp, and that didn’t exist. So we called Fender, and very quickly the conversation escalated to doing something like this”.

The hand-wired Chris Stapleton signature amp is a twelve-watt combo with attractively simple controls, featuring Fender Vintage Blue tone caps, Schumacher transformers, and an output tube-biased tremolo circuit. Its cabinet is made from solid pine, covered with textured brown vinyl. Like the bourbon-barrel Blues Junior, its handle is brown leather, and its dark brown faceplate matches the darker brown control knobs. Two 12AX7 preamp tubes, two 6V6 power tubes, and a single 5Y3 rectifier tube power its Eminence 12” Special Design CS speaker. It also has a built-in tremolo effect.

Never have played a brown Princeton—in fact, I don’t know that I’ve ever even seen one before. I DO know the later (mid-late 60s, pre CBS) blackface Princetons are sweet-sounding little amps, although a bit on the, umm, quiet side to suit my taste.

Independence Day placeholder post

As I’ve been repeating for lo, these last several years, in my opinion July 4th should properly be a national day of mourning, not of celebration. But honestly, I can’t help but be of two minds (at least) on that. Yes, we have utterly failed in our duty to uphold the documents of America’s Founding, the Declaration and the Constitution. That being the case, however, it does NOT necessarily follow that the ideals, the principles, the bedrock definitional values of the Founding are not themselves worth celebrating, each and every year from now until Doomsday. Yes, even when we have a senile, corrupt old grifter roosting in the Oval Office.

So over the last cpl-three days I’ve been engaged in an internal tug of war over which direction I should take with this year’s Independence Day offering, both here and over at the Eyrie—which, in the usual run of things, I would’ve already finished by now.

So whilst we’re all waiting for me to figure out whether I want to be the gloomiest of all possible Guses this year, as has become my habit, or to ignore certain current, ugly realities in favor of a less topical post extolling certain eternal verities everyone here should be quite familiar with by now—never wasted time, IMHO—enjoy this wonderfully engaging and inspirational scene from what I always thought was a wildly underrated movie.

And yes, of COURSE I have an up-close-and-personal story involving Moscow On The Hudson, in particular a certain popular NYC news anchor who makes a brief cameo appearance therein. Maybe I’ll just say heck with it all and write about that.

Affirmative Action State-Mandated Racism struck down, Associate Justice Clarence Thomas has thoughts

The greatest USSC Justice of all time deals out the righteous juridical smackdown to a dissenting dipshit.

As RedState reported earlier, the United States Supreme Court ruled in a 6-3 vote Thursday that the race-based college admissions processes used by Harvard and the University of North Carolina (UNC) violate the 14th Amendment’s equal protection clause, effectively striking down the use of affirmative action programs in college admissions.

In Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson’s dissenting opinion in the UNC case, Jackson, who was nominated by President Joe Biden to the Supreme Court in part based on a campaign promise to nominate a black woman, accused the court’s conservative majority of “let-them-eat-cake obliviousness,” proclaiming that the Justices “detached” themselves from “this country’s actual past and present experiences,” while lecturing the “ostrich-like” members about so-called “lived experiences.”

In his concurrence with the majority, Justice Clarence Thomas responded accordingly to Jackson’s dissent. Here are some noteworthy excerpts:

Accordingly, JUSTICE JACKSON’s race-infused world view falls flat at each step. Individuals are the sum of their unique experiences, challenges, and accomplishments. What matters is not the barriers they face, but how they choose to confront them. And their race is not to blame for everything—good or bad—that happens in their lives. A contrary, myopic world view based on individuals’ skin color to the total exclusion of their personal choices is nothing short of racial determinism.

JUSTICE JACKSON then builds from her faulty premise to call for action, arguing that courts should defer to “experts” and allow institutions to discriminate on the basis of race. Make no mistake: Her dissent is not a vanguard of the in-nocent and helpless. It is instead a call to empower privileged elites, who will “tell us [what] is required to level the playing field” among castes and classifications that they alone can divine. Post, at 26; see also post, at 5–7 (GORSUCH, J., concurring) (explaining the arbitrariness of these classifications). Then, after siloing us all into racial castes and pitting those castes against each other, the dissent somehow believes that we will be able—at some undefined point—to “march forward together” into some utopian vision. Post, at 26 (opinion of JACKSON, J.). Social movements that invoke these sorts of rallying cries, historically, have ended disastrously.

Unsurprisingly, this tried-and-failed system defies both law and reason. Start with the obvious: If social reorganization in the name of equality may be justified by the mere fact of statistical disparities among racial groups, then that reorganization must continue until these disparities are fully eliminated, regardless of the reasons for the disparities and the cost of their elimination. If blacks fail a test at higher rates than their white counterparts (regardless of whether the reason for the disparity has anything at all to do with race), the only solution will be race-focused measures. If those measures were to result in blacks failing at yet higher rates, the only solution would be to double down. In fact, there would seem to be no logical limit to what the government may do to level the racial playing field—outright wealth transfers, quota systems, and racial preferences would all seem permissible. In such a system, it would not matter how many innocents suffer race-based injuries; all that would matter is reaching the race-based goal.

The rest of Thomas’ characteristically-brilliant, well-reasoned, and just plain commonsensical opinion can be found here, beginning at Page 97.

2

The little coup that couldn’t

Was the Prigozhin Putsch a Putin put-up job?

The unexpected thing that happened however was Putin transferred a large number of Tactical Nuclear Weapons to Belarus.

Now why the fuck did they do that?

I think I have an idea.

So…Wagner had some ‘issues’ with the MOD and Priggy got all riled up on the regular…yelling screaming, various ‘incidents’ that were, oddly enough publicized by the Russians themselves, which had the NATO kids and the Krainians all happy as it showed ‘fractures’ in the SMO and it’s most effective group Wagner. Wagner being a Private Military Company, not fully subordinate to the MoD, but hey…they did do the majority of the heavy lifting.

Now. Not getting into the whole breakdown of the “Who How Where and Why” of this mutiny. What I noticed was the pattern of it…Priggy and his boys, with very little interference from the “Regular Army” started marching North towards Moscow with the “intent of throwing Shoigu and Gerasimov out” and possibly taking control of Russia itself and throwing Putin out completely.

Needless to say, the US and the Krain practically nutted on themselves on the word of this coming out, but there’s also some word leaking that they (NATO et. al.) had a hand in this and had paid off Priggy to do this exact thing…we’ll never know the truth but the RUMINT is flying around out there…

Either way, what got MY attention was where Priggy and his boys had stopped on their Magical Mutiny Tour:

Looking on Google Erf, Elets or Yelets has a major East-West Highway which hooks onto another major highway…now, supposedly Wagner and Prigozhin have accepted “exile” in Belarus. And the reports are they stopped in Elets, hooked a left, and drove down into Belarus…word is it about 25k troops that went with him, with about another 10k staying behind.

Now, to me?

Putin doesn’t let reporters who say bad things about him in the news live.

Why the fuck isn’t Priggy and his boys being jailed or at least Prigozhin himself? Putins killed for a hell of a lot less offenses. And then, as it’s been stated before, the fact that the Russian DotMil essentially didn’t raise a finger to stop him? Granted there were a couple of choppers and planes ‘supposedly’ shot down, but that, to me remains to be seen, as the propaganda these days? Almost impossible to sort the wheat from the chaff.

I do know and have gotten word on where Wagner did end up:

The NATO Kids and everyone was so thrilled at the idea of a Mutiny, how much you want to bet that they started moving equipment towards the southern Edge of the Battlespace with the intent of pushing (again) into the Kherson A.O.? Any bets they didn’t think this might be a head-fake?

‘Cos now they have the Russian Tip of The Spear sitting about a HOP-SKIP-AND-A-JUMP from the Heart of Kiev.

This “mutiny” was an active Markirovka that allowed Putin to move 25-35000 of his most hardcore fighters openly and publically to the very edge of Kiev, and NO ONE NOTICED OR REALIZED IT.

Well Played, if in fact this’s what was the case.

I’d say so, yeah. Not to worry though, the “Free” World is in the very best of hands; Biden’s Bunglers are on the case, and no doubt know exactly what they’re doing, here as everywhere else. I’m confident their countermove is going to be every bit as brilliant as their Sooperdoopergenius!™ ploy of getting the Ukraine-Russia prelude to “nooklear combat toe-to-toe with the Russkies” underway to begin with was. Sing that sweet song of “victory” one more time for us, MAJ Kong!

If you’ve never seen Stanley Kubrick’s bitterly sardonic masterpiece Dr Strangelove, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb before, right about now would probably be a great time to remedy that deficiency in your education, I’m thinking. Y’know, before it’s too late, and little luxuries such as movie megaplexes, video rental kiosks, online streaming outlets, and Teh Innarnuts itself all become rare as teats on a boar hog.

Update! Aesop, as is his wont, begs to differ—YUUUUGELY. Who knows, really? The only thing we can safely assume is that nobody outside the directly-involved players in the Kremlin and the Wagner camp do for sure. Since Pedo Jaux Biden doesn’t even know what year it is anymore, and “his” team of soi disant “intellectuals” and “elites” are likewise clueless mouthbreathers themselves, it’s a lead-pipe cinch that they certainly don’t. Me, I‘m with the meme a hunnert and ten percent.

NotRootinForPutin

Ever more interesting update! Most intriguing take to date would have to be Kim Dotcom’s. Entertaining as all get-out, too.


I like it. I really, really like it. Well done, DDC. Via Dave Renegade and GP.

2

A becoming humility

Quora provides a sterling example of one of Man’s finer qualities.

Rik Elswit
Musician for 60 years. Professional musician for 55

What are some rock songs that were just filler, but became huge hits?
My band went into the studio to make our fourth album after having had to declare bankruptcy in order to get out of a contract with CBS records where we were getting no support. Nobody would even take our phone calls.

So we signed with Capitol, and went to work at Pacific Recorders. This is where we found out that our manager/producer was of little use in the studio without having the CBS engineers holding his hand for him. We released three singles off it that he was sure would be hits, and they all stiffed. Finally, in frustration, the brass at Capitol actually ordered him to release our cover of Sam Cooke’s “Only 16”, which we’d recorded simply as fill to flesh out the album.

This was a tune that we had begun playing at gigs just because we liked to play it. Our lead singer really got it, and it was just like home. The sort of thing we could do in our sleep. We produced and arranged it ourselves, and it only took a couple hours, total, to get it in the can. We were even breaking up a pound of monstrously good smoke in the drum booth while we were doing the sweetening. I had to hand the scales off to the drummer when they called me out to lay in the guitar solo and fills.

It went gold. We had worked our own way out of bankruptcy on our own, and we made Sam Cooke’s widow very happy.

FOURTH album? Jumping from a contract with CBS over to Capitol, seemingly at will? A gold record the result of said major-label leap? One can only assume that this Rik Elswit fellow must be, or at least once was, a real Somebody in the music biz.

As it turns out, we quickly learn from the comments that one would not be entirely incorrect in one’s assumption.

Neil Matthews
I’d like to give Rik’s answers more upvotes, it’s a glimpse of what Quora could be; informative answers to genuine questions by someone who knows what they are talking about.

Huw Pritchard
No small amount of humility either – I’ll be honest, I ended up googling Rik because I didn’t know his name but figured out it might be an interesting search.

If I was in his shoes I’d start everything I wrote with “I was in Dr Hook for 13 years”, even if it wasn’t relevant to the answer.

Well, I will be dipped in shit, how ’bout that? For those of you out there who are a hell of a lot younger than me, here’s Rik Elswit’s band’s biggest hit—in days of old, when knights were bold, and condoms not invented.

And what the hell, since Rik mentioned pounds of weed, and it popped up after Dr Hook in my YewToob list, PLUS it’s still one of the songs that make me bounce around in my seat the hardest, let’s do this thing.

Man, you might not agree, but in my book that’s about as good as the rock GETS, right there.

Update! Okay, since I’m on something of a roll here and all. Rik mentioned major-label tapeworms refusing to even take the band’s calls back in their darkest days just before the dawn, so what do you suppose that reminded me of? Why, this, of course.

Just occurred to me that, if someone stumbled in here who didn’t know me personally and got a load of these, shall we say, wildly electic musical selections I’m always putting up here, then found out I mostly listened to classical music radio all day long, they’d probably think I was schizophrenic or something.

Says it all update! While we’re on the topic of rock and roll, I hijacked this from shit the great Ken Lane posted on Fakebook.

AC DC3BlocksAway

Really, what more can one say but: Heh.

Awestruck

That’s my visceral response to what I think just might be one of the most well-written and -constructed, punchy, and just plain fun to read paragraphs I ever did see, by our good friend and colleague Fran Porretto. Dig, if you will:

Gentle Reader, if you’ve never reflected on the penchant political columnists possess for bending, folding, stapling, and mutilating our sacred language into shapes unimagined by the greatest origamists in human history, now would not be a bad time to start. And for a bonus dollop of illumination: that phrase “would not be a bad time to start” is called a periphrasis. It’s a technique for using negatives to convey a positive suggestion. Paradoxically, this underscores the positive notion. It has the side benefit of making the user sound like W. Somerset Maugham.

See what he did there? A judiciously light dusting of alliteration early on; a reference to “our sacred language,” which I do NOT consider at all hyperbolic or over the top, as I do that “sacred democracy” twipe being thrown around WAY too often nowadays; a direct slap at “journalistic” manipulation via a metaphor so colorful and bright it dazzles; the paradoxically entertaining and educational “bonus dollop of illumination”; lastly, a sly Somerset Maugham reference, which I hope to God I will never come to think of as a bad thing.

That’s the penultimate (well, give or take) ‘graph of a brief post on Doublespeak which is richly deserving of your time and attention, from whence I gleaned a truly rollicking Spencer piece I had til now overlooked. To wit:

Imagine this scenario: a wildly unpopular and manifestly incapable president is running, however haltingly, for reelection. Initially he seemed like a lock, but then he encountered an unexpected challenge from a scion of an old American political family, a man who defies all the conventional categorization of political candidates and has set the establishment on its ear by challenging not only the superannuated corruptocrat in the White House but many of that establishment’s most cherished assumptions.

It would make a great novel, but it’s real life, and it’s an exhilarating reminder that America is still a republic, still a place where the elites can be challenged at all, however entrenched they may appear to be. Robert F. Kennedy Jr. has not only challenged the elites, he has frightened them to the core, and that’s wonderful to see. The latest indication of how much of a threat they consider him to be comes from the Los Angeles Times, always a reliable organ for far-Left propaganda. The Left Coast Times is so scared of RFK Jr. that on Monday, it proclaimed, “Robert F. Kennedy Jr. is a threat to your health — and our democracy.”

Now, this is absurd on its face and an insult to the intelligence of the handful of remaining Los Angeles Times readers. The Left has now become so divorced from reality that Times writer Michael Hiltzik would have us believe that a contested Democrat party primary is bad for “our democracy.” But a full-out coronation of Old Joe to serve another four years as the figurehead for the shadowy individuals who are really running things? Why, that would be “our democracy” personified. One candidate, inevitable outcome? Good democracy! Two candidates, unclear outcome? Bad democracy!

For the millionth time, we don’t have a “democracy,” we have a republic. But the key point here is that, once again, Leftists have confirmed the fact that when they talk about “our democracy,” they don’t actually mean anything democratic at all. They are referring not to any kind of democracy, but to their own hegemony. The only “democracy” that involves one candidate receiving the forced adulation of the masses and reelection by acclimation from all those who don’t want to end up in the gulag is the type that is practiced in states such as the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea, also known as North Korea.

The North Koreans will happily explain to you how the personality cult of Kim Jong Un is the very embodiment of the popular will and thus the quintessential expression of “democracy,” and that’s what Michael Hiltzik and the Los Angeles Times have in mind for the folks at home. “Democracy” means we all learn to love Old Joe, or whomever the elites decide ultimately to replace him with. It doesn’t mean that we actually have a choice between different candidates, unless those candidates all have elite approval, and RFK Jr. decidedly does not.

Nobody out there ought to be holding their breath waiting for me to endorse RFKjr, lest they end up purple-faced, suffocating, and deeply disappointed. That said, I do enjoy the fact that—as one Donald John Trump also did not so long ago—he gives the creeping fantods to a whole bunch of people I despise from the very depths of my gizzard.

Strung up, strung out

Yet another excellent Quora digest edition drops into my email inbox.

Why does Billy Gibbons use 7-43 guitar strings? It seems odd.

Billy uses 7–38.

Billy used to use 11s & 12s because he thought that’s what all the blues guys did: Big string = Big sound

He was in the green room of a gig with B.B. King and BB wanted to see Billy’s axe. BB was noodling with Billy’s guitar and asked Billy why he was running such heavy strings? Billy said, “I thought that’s how all you blues guys got your tone.” BB said, “Why do you want to work so hard?” I think Billy dropped down to 9s almost immediately and eventually worked his way down to 7s and 8s, which is what a lot of the classic music of the 50s, 60s, and 70s was done with.

7’s will teach you about control PDQ because they respond so easily. If you want to sound super-tight on 9s or 10s go play on 7s and 8s for while.

.007s? Dang, I don’t think I ever have played with strings that light; in fact, I don’t recall being aware that they even made ‘em that light. My uncle started me out on .008s, a jazz set of his preferred Black Diamonds with the wrapped G (as a snot-nosed punk kid already gravitating heavily towards rock and roll, I didn’t like that worth a damn, believe me; wrapped third strings on electric guitars is definitely a jazzbo thing). Then, once I’d mastered the essential chords, scales, and runs, followed by guitar adaptions of a few old songs, most of which Murray had transposed and committed to staff paper himself (Sweet Georgia Brown*, I remember ye fondly, old girl!), I went out on my own hook from there.

POINTLESS CF DIGRESSION™: I still have one of those jumbo-sized plastic totes crammed full of Murray’s old sheet-music transcriptions in climate-controlled storage over in my friend Wendy’s living room, safely tucked away between her two (2) pianos. It’s all promised to my friend Jeremy, a great player in his own right, who damned near collapsed in stunned but delighted disbelief when I first showed him that plastic-tub treasure trove and spent an evening pawing through it with him. Jeremy took guitar lessons from me back when I was still willing to take on students; he’s probably the best pure musician I’ve ever known, and I’m happy indeed to turn over all that 24-karat musical history to him, knowing as I do how much he’ll love it, and what good care he’ll take of it.

Anyhoo, when I began playing professionally, I had to change strings before every show, either in the green room or at the hotel. I could count on breaking at least one any night I got lazy and didn’t—usually the D or B, don’t know why that would have been. And believe me, I tried like hell to figure it out. It was annoying as hell, but then again all the onstage angst and aggro was easily avoided just by the simple expedient of changing the blasted things.

Uncle Murray, by contrast, only replaced his strings once in a blue moon; he’d boil ‘em when they started to feel limp and flaccid, then put ‘em back on for another year’s worth of abuse. Murray and I never discussed the way I went through strings; I figure he would have been genuinely horrified at the needless waste, the grotesque profligacy of any nephew of his buying strings not by the pack, but by the case. Why, the very idea! Surely he’d taught me better than THAT!

I DO know that Stevie Ray Vaughn famously used strings so painfully heavy they more closely resembled low-register piano strings, or perhaps telephone-pole guy wires. Don’t know how in the world he managed to play the way he did—bending notes with no apparent effort, fingers zooming wildly all over the fretboard like honeybees in a field of wildflowers—on strings that big, night after night after night, for years. But then, that’s why he’s Stevie Ray Vaughan, and I, y’know…ain’t.

My own calluses, laboriously created by set after set of comparatively wimpy D’Addario Jazz/Rock .011 to .049s, are still there, and I haven’t picked up a guitar since 2017. Hell, I can still feel the lip-callus you get from trumpet-playing when I run my tongue across my upper lip; apparently, they never do go away completely. The calluses on Stevie Ray’s left-hand fingertips, then, must have been something to see indeed. By the time he died, his fingertips must have been rutted as deeply as a New Mexico desert valley after a sudden monsoon.

.007 to .038 gauge strings, Gibbons? Ya fuckin’ pussy.

Update! Having mentioned Jeremy up there, please enjoy one of my all-time favorite songs from his surf band nonpareil, the Aqualads.

Great band, great tune. Written by the late, lamented Bob Nelson, may he forever rest in peace.

* I keep thinking of stuff I want to add to this post, so I put in a link to Django Reinhardt and Stephan Grappelli’s version of SGB, just because they were two of Murray’s favorites.

A bridge too far

Thanks to our friends and fellow Americans in Hamtramck, looks like that long-expected schism between the Left and its ersatz Mooselimb allies of convenience is finally underway.

‘A sense of betrayal’: liberal dismay as Muslim-led US city bans Pride flags
Many liberals celebrated when Hamtramck, Michigan, elected a Muslim-majority council in 2015 but a vote to exclude LGBTQ+ flags from city property has soured relations

In 2015, many liberal residents in Hamtramck, Michigan, celebrated as their city attracted international attention for becoming the first in the United States to elect a Muslim-majority city council.

They viewed the power shift and diversity as a symbolic but meaningful rebuke of the Islamophobic rhetoric that was a central theme of then Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump’s campaign.

This week many of those same residents watched in dismay as a now fully Muslim and socially conservative city council passed legislation banning Pride flags from being flown on city property that had – like many others being flown around the country – been intended to celebrate the LGBTQ+ community.

Muslim residents packing city hall erupted in cheers after the council’s unanimous vote, and on Hamtramck’s social media pages, the taunting has been relentless: “Fagless City”, read one post, emphasized with emojis of a bicep flexing.

Follows, a toilet-load of the usual whiny shitlib claptrap (this IS the Grauniad I’m excerpting here, after all) about “rightwing agitators” “shoving” genderqueerintersexnonbinaryminorattractedotherkins “back into the closet,” thereby effectively “erasing” them if not just genociding them outright. Back over to Hizzoner da Mayor for the kernel of actual, by-God truth here.

Their talking points mirror those made elsewhere: some Hamtramck Muslims say they simply want to protect children, and gay people should “keep it in their home”.

.Mayor Amer Ghalib, 43, who was elected in 2021 with 67% of the vote to become the nation’s first Yemeni American mayor, told the Guardian on Thursday he tries to govern fairly for everyone, but said LGBTQ+ supporters had stoked tension by “forcing their agendas on others”.

“There is an overreaction to the situation, and some people are not willing to accept the fact that they lost,” he said, referring to Majewski and recent elections that resulted in full control of the council by Muslim politicians.

Bold mine, because every word of it is perfectly, inarguably true and accurate. Some of us have been insisting for years, over and over and over again, that Leftards needed to slow their roll a bit, before Normal Americans got pissed off enough to start slapping back at them. In fact, just the other day I said this:

Might the Hamtramck Muslims actually have put themselves, however inadvertently, at the pointy end of a Real American Renaissance here? After this, I don’t know as I’d be willing to bet against it.

Taking the longer view, this Hamtramck brouhaha could easily turn out to be the most genuinely important news story of the year, far more so than whatever Sewer State pig-in-a-poke “wins” the 24 “election.”

And so suddenly, against all odds and expectations, here we all are. Is it too late now for Leftwits to prevent what’s coming at them next? After all the sick, intolerable depravity they’ve tried to force down Normal gullets the past couple of years, one can only hope that it is, frankly. After all, it’s not as if they weren’t warned, by plenty and to spare of us. Now let them choke on it instead of us, for a refreshing change of pace.

(Via Insty)

Update! Looking back over this post for purposes of proofreading, this bit from the first excerpt sorta jumped out at me (bold mine again):

They viewed the power shift and diversity as a symbolic but meaningful rebuke of the Islamophobic rhetoric that was a central theme of then Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump’s campaign.

Of course, there was no rebuke at all; how could there have been, when there had been no “Islamophobic rhetoric” whatsoever, from Trump nor from anybody else? How deliciously ironic, then, that they now find themselves being rebuked, and quite deservedly at that. Not symbolically either, but directly, unequivocally, and—dare I say it—meaningfully, too.

Sit back and suck on it, shitlibs. You asked for it, and now you’re a-gonna get it—good and hard. This is only the start of it, I’d bet.

Enough already update! Divemedic says he’s over it, and with good reason. I’m over it myself, and I suspect many, many others are as well.

Hire the handicapped

Price. Less.


Whose idea was it? Dunno, but he’s a fuckin’ diabolical genius, is what he is. Did I not TELL you guys that having two (2) mentally-incapacitated rutabagas in DC was gonna yield up comedy gold? Folks, it just doesn’t GET much better than that. Reminds me of this classic skit.

Halp us, Handi Man—John Kary has failed, so only you can save us now!

Thanks (I think) to Brack for the steer.

Update! Yes, yes, I know I said “two” above, which was technically in error, being a serious undercount and all. Hell, Biden, Veggerman, and Feinstein all punch so much higher than their actual weight when it comes to retardation that, between them, they run up the score to waaaay on past mere single digits.

Updated update! Yep, the delightful pairing wasn’t a hoax or some kind of beautiful, beautiful dream. It really did happen.

Sen. John Fetterman garbles words, wears baggy shorts during event with Biden in Philadelphia
Sen. John Fetterman dressed for a day on a basketball court Saturday to greet President Biden in Philadelphia — then stumbled over his words as he spoke to the media.

The Pennsylvania Democrat, in baggy shorts, sneakers, and a light blue hoodie, was unable to pronounce words such as “delegation” and “infrastructure” as he made a garbled one-minute statement after Biden toured the collapsed I-95 overpass that has snarled traffic throughout the northeast.

“This is a president that is committed to infructure,” said Fetterman, 53, who continues to grapple with the effects of a stroke he suffered last May as he campaigned for his Senate seat.

Biden, he said, “is here to commit to work with the governor and the delegadation to make sure that we get this fixed quick, fast, as well, too.”

The freshman senator also praised Biden’s $1.2 trillion infrastructure bill, calling it “the jewel, kind of a law, of the infra, infration, infriction bill that is gonna make sure that there’s bridges like this all across America getting rebuilt.”

Ohhh, this guy’s good. Better than good, actually. He just might out-gobbledegook Biden, the acknowledged master. Via Bill, who quips: I doubt either man had any clue what the other was talking about. Or where he was, or how he got there.

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The Trannytittygate scramble

As the “Biden” junta trips over itself desperately trying to backpedal on the White House “Pride Party” Trannytittygate fiasco, Stacey Lennox offers some excellent suggestions on how the object lesson might be driven fully home for these inept, bumbling doofi.

Maybe don’t live your truth and express your joy in front of kids at an official government function. This was predictable as soon as hosting YouTube stars at the White House became a thing. It started with a woman who bathed in Fruit Loops, moved on to Dylan Mulvaney looking like a garish Audrey Hepburn with an Adam’s apple, and ended with people stripping on the White House lawn. Our enemies are laughing.

Hell, can you blame ‘em? At this point, I’M laughing right along with them myself.

If a bit of embarrassment is all it takes to roll back the revolutionary LBGT+ lunacy, here are a few other things we should demand the White House schedule immediately. First, have Joe Biden attend a “family” drag show in a tavern. Put him right in the front row to observe how grown men in dresses interact with children. If he’s lucky, the organizers will let him sniff the hair of a kid or two.

Then, they should send Jill Biden to a local junior high. As an educator, this should be an easy ask. During her visit, she needs to read aloud selected passages of Gender Queer on camera. Remember, these books are necessary, so there is no reason the event should not stream live on Twitter.

As compassionate as she is, she should visit at least one teen boy and one teen girl in the hospital after transition surgery. Then the butcher who performed the double mastectomy or orchiectomy should explain the surgery and recovery in detail. She should also meet with Jazz Jennings’s mother, who can describe the lifelong “wound care” for boys who receive vaginoplasties. Again, these events should be broadcast live, preferably before the end of Pride month.

Then, I would like the president and his wife to welcome Chloe Cole to the White House. Cole is a young woman suing the doctors who provided her testosterone and performed a double mastectomy as a teen. They should be forced to look her in the eye and assure her she received “life-saving care” because nothing could be further from the truth.

Sounds good to me, I’m all in. Let’s do this, people!

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Tucker on Twitter, again

Episode Four drops—“Wannabe dictator”—and it’s a real doozy.


As Barry says, this one may well be his best yet. Money quote: “Just because he’s trying to put the other candidate in prison for the rest of his life for crimes he himself committed doesn’t mean he has a totalitarian impulse. C’mon, that’s absurd!”  Looks like I’m gonna need to set up a new category for these Tucker posts, I’m thinking.

Update! Annnd our new Tucker cat is a done deal. Be sure you have your sarcasm filter set on “High” for this one, folks; it’s so blistering, so caustic—particularly in the last third or so—that it could literally peel paint.

Better sit down for this one

Never thought I’d I’d see the day I would say this, but: you GO, Muslims!

Watch: Michigan City Bans LGBTQ Pride Flag, Other Political Flags from City Property
The all-Muslim city council of Hamtramck, Michigan, voted unanimously on Tuesday to approve a resolution that would ban the LGBTQ+ Pride flag from being flown on the city’s public property.

The resolution, proposed by Mayor Pro-Tem Muhammad Hassan, also bars any religious, ethnic, racial, political, or sexual orientation group flags from being flown on city property and only allows the American flag to be flown, along with state and city flags, other national flags, and the Prisoner of War flag, according to Click on Detroit.

“Hassan and other members of the council said the LGBTQ+ community and others are welcome in Hamtramck but that they need to respect religious freedom,” according to the report. “Some proponents of the resolution said the Pride flag clashes with their faith. Several speakers from Dearborn who were leaders in protests last year against LGBTQ books spoke at the Hamtramck meeting, saying American soldiers sacrificed for the U.S. flag, not the Pride flag.”

City Councilman Nayeem Choudhury said LGBTQ+ people will not be discriminated against in the city but should also respect the religious liberty of the city’s Muslim community.

“We want to respect the religious rights of our citizens,” Choudhury said. “You guys are welcome…(but) why do you have to have the flag shown on government property to be represented? You’re already represented. We already know who you are…By making this (about) bigotry…it’s making it like you want to hate us.”

City council members also commented that the code was not about targeting a specific group, stating: “If you let one flag in, you’ll have to let all of the flags in.”

Good stuff, all of it, but this next bit I especially like.

An immigrant from Yemen spoke in favor of the resolution, stating that while the city “respect[s] all nations, cultures, and their flags…we only salute the American flag.”

The man spoke of coming to the United States from Yemen as a child and believing until he was older that America was an evil, racist country because that is what he was taught in schools. It was not until he went back to Yemen as an adult and saw what he described as “poverty and chaos…at another level” that he realized how thankful he was to live in America, where he can “worship [his] creator in peace and tranquility.”

“Unfortunately, many people in our country don’t seem to understand this. They don’t know, or they don’t want to know, what it is like to live in extreme poverty, what it is like to live under severe repression, where there’s no freedom of speech, no freedom of religion,” the man said.

“I owe my success and my livelihood first and foremost to the Creator Himself, Almighty God, then to this great country. Our soldiers fought, bled, and died in the jungles of Iwo Jima and the beaches of Omaha so that you and I can live with peace, prosperity, and freedom,” he said. “Those soldiers fought under the American flag and no other.”

“It’s shameful and embarrassing to have any other flag on public buildings. You have the freedom to display whatever you wish in your home or your private businesses. We respect all nations, cultures, and their flags, but we only salute the American flag,” he concluded, telling the city council members, “Do not waver and do not flinch, you are doing the right thing. God bless you, and God Bless the United States of America.”

My God, that guy sounds more American than all too many AINOs these days do. He really, really gets it, much more than these next two stupid-ass bints ever will.

At one point during the public comment portion of the city council session, a woman wearing a clown nose sarcastically stated that the city should change its slogan to say it “welcomes you if you’re straight” before kissing the woman next to her.

Yeh, yeh, fuck you too, freak. Tolerance, we’re all just fine with. Being forced to stand up and cheer for you, to “celebrate” you, based entirely on your sexual preference and nothing whatsoever else, though? Meh, not so much. Straight people don’t wave their private sex lives around in your face; best, then, not to be waving yours around in theirs, lest you set off an enormous powderkeg of backlash dynamite I promise you you won’t enjoy.

I DO find the clown nose wholly appropriate, even commendable for its unflinching (albeit unintentional) honesty. Other than that, though, I’m with JJ on this deal.

First, while I usually describe the Michigan town of Hamtramck as alternately “Hamas-tramck” or “Haram-tramck” I’m cheering the residents of that town, albeit with a rather wary eye. Still, regardless of the source of the attack, the rhetorical weaponry used against a common and deadly enemy is right on target and welcome.

Looks like a 50-car pileup at the Intersectionality Intersection. More, please! Just to reiterate, my wariness of the Muslim community in this country is quite justified for obvious reasons. But at least in this instance, the Islamic doctrine of the enemy of my enemy being my friend, if only temporarily, is in full operation. And this is as crucial a battlefield as ever their was one. It’s America’s children on the line and whatever hope for salvation we have as a nation, if not their own protection which is cause enough.

Bang on, if you ask me. I have to say, it’s almost shocking to see how thoroughly the Muslims in Hamtramck have assimilated, to the point of being willing to stand up in defiance of the continuing Leftist assault against core American values and beliefs with such pride and unswerving devotion. The CF chapeau is duly doffed to them for that.

Update! So’s I could put in boldface the parts I found most perceptive, most compelling, most just by-God all-American. I swear, I still just can’t get over it. Might the Hamtramck Muslims actually have put themselves, however inadvertently, at the pointy end of a Real American Renaissance here? After this, I don’t know as I’d be willing to bet against it. Again: sincere, humble, and utterly stunned kudos to them.

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