A most pleasant rumination

A modest proposal from Aesop.

We tried to assimilate them, but there are some things that cannot be accomplished solely with good intentions.

If populating the Joint Chiefs, Congress, SCOTUS, and the White House aren’t enough for them, admit defeat, and end the experiment forever. Cut the bullsh*t, and end White Guilt.

Ship the entire race back to Africa. Lock, stock, and barrel. Not voluntary: 100% mandatory. Eliminate the entire category in the U.S. Ban any further immigration of same, in perpetuity. (It isn’t like they could hide anywhere in plain sight, is it?)

If you’re Black, You Go Back.

And the halves, quatroons, eighths, and sixteenths left behind can worry about either flying right once and for all, or seeing the bar for permanent deportation lowered until the problem resolves.

No more prison. Just a boat ride out, for good. First class, all travel expenses paid, no returns ever, with whatever they could carry off in their baggage. Don’t harm a hair on their heads, just shuffle them up the gangplank, and shove off with the lot. Same way they got here, albeit under better accommodations for the long-overdue return journey. 

Convicts and jailbirds too. Free at last! Over there. Reparations: Paid in full. Game Over, man.

Imagine waking up in a country without Whoopi Goldberg, Stacy Abrams, or Maxine Waters. Ever again.

A most edifying thought, though of course it’ll never happen.

Seeing as how Howlin’ Wolf, Muddy Waters, and Elmore James have all departed this mortal coil long since, it would have to go down in the “Win” column overall. The idea is nothing new; ironically, it was Lincoln’s original suggestion for dealing with the post-slavery surplus Neegrow problem, going all the way back to the 1850s.

I can’t say I’d miss the three oxygen-thieving parasites Aesop mentions, not for even one moment. Ditto for the NFL, the NBA, and MLB as well. It’s even possible that we might get Chicongo and Detroit back as beautiful, livable cities again, and the potential improvement in Atlanta is well beyond the ability of humans to calculate—even Einstein couldn’t manage such a feat.

Admittedly, losing Chris Rock and Dave Chappell would be a bit of a wrench, at least for me. Then again, we could probably still access their shows via internet live-stream, so there’s that.

5

The wheels grind inexorably on

I seriously doubt they have much if anything to worry about, but it’d be nice to think they’re right to be worried just the same.

BREAKING: Federal Law Enforcement Preparing for Mass Chaos With Potential Trump Indictment
Five senior officials have disclosed that local, state, and federal law enforcement and security agencies are getting ready for a potential indictment of former President Donald Trump as soon as next week. The agencies are in talks about potential security measures for the Manhattan Criminal Court and its surroundings, should Trump be charged in relation to a supposed hush money payment made to Stormy Daniels.

The magnitude of agencies involved includes the NYPD, New York State Court Officers, the U.S. Secret Service, the FBI’s Joint Terrorism Task Force, and the Manhattan District Attorney’s Office. The scale of preparation highlights the gravity of the situation and the chaotic impact that an indictment could have on Trump’s 2024 campaign and legal future.

From a legal standpoint, an indictment would require Trump to mount a defense and could potentially result in a conviction and sentencing. The investigation into the alleged hush money payment has been ongoing for years, and an indictment would signal that prosecutors believe they have sufficient evidence to bring charges.

The preparations being made by law enforcement agencies suggest that they are taking the possibility of an indictment seriously. However, it is important to note that no charges have been filed yet, and the conversations and planning are currently precautionary in nature.

Trump, the dope, should’ve taken me up on what I’ve been suggesting since the fraudulent immaculation of “Joe Biden” as pRetend “pResident” in 2021, to wit:

  • Buy yourself a small, uninhabited island in the Caribbean someplace, assuming you don’t already own several
  • Lay undersea minefields around said island’s perimenter
  • Post a reinforced company of armed security—full combat loadout, to include SAW-gunners and grenades—on all beach approaches, with blanket lethal-force authorization should a single living soul so much as even look like they’re thinking about trying to wade ashore
  • Establish concealed .50 cal machine-gun emplacements and light-mortar positions well inshore, with interlocking fields of fire outside the shoreline, tasked with interdiction of attempted incursion via small boat and/or submarine, to be maintained at ready-5 alert status, deployable as and when
  • At least one (1) fully-qualified sniper team situated on whatever higher ground might be available? Gedouddaheah with your silly fookin’ questions, eedjit—of COURSE!!
  • Once total, unbreachable security has been ensured, put on the swim trunks and some sunscreen, drag out a comfy beach chair, and just lie back in the sun sipping on a frozen piña colada whilst enjoying the succulent view of your gorgeous, hot-ass wife frolicking happily in the surf wearing the skimpiest imaginable thong bikini. Or, better yet, nothing whatsoever.

Hey, beats rockin’ orange all hollow, every day of the week and twice on Sundays.

Prithee tell, what sound-minded soul, be he ever so humble, could possibly blame Trump if he did? If it was me, I’da done it a looonnnnng damned time ago—in fact, I’da had my bags pre-packed and skedaddled for Andrews the moment “Deep State” Pence stabbed the whole country in the back, fiercely buggered Real Americans without the courtesy of either lube or a reach-around, wantonly defied the very concept of “consent of the governed,” and shat all over his sworn oath to the Constitution.

On TeeWee, no less, right out in front of God and everybody, the shameless, despicable fucksicle.

Even if they don’t manage to get Trump thrown in the jug this go-round, The Power at all levels will assuredly be persecuting him for the rest of his days, if only to make an example of him pour discourager les autres. And that’s provided they don’t just have him assassinated outright, something I’ve been expecting with dread since his unlooked-for victory over “Cankles” Clinton (a/k/a She Who Will NEVER Be President™) in 2016.

Trump’s impertubable but misguided faith in the US, its people, and its rotten-to-the-core institutions—the “justice” system most especially—is gonna be the undoing of the poor man. In fact, it already was, and he just doesn’t seem to realize it quite yet. Or can’t admit it to himself, maybe. Somebody close to him needs to whisper in his ear that the country he harbors such strong patriotic sentiment for went tits-up and extinct a goodish while back.

I’d love to be proved wrong— that, following Trump’s indictment, show trial, conviction, and perp-walk out of the kangaroo-courtroom, the ensuing retaliatory uprising would be swift, sweeping, and utterly merciless. I’d love to be, but I can’t say I think it at all likely. We Duh Sheepul, even the most zealous of OnlyTrump partisans, have been all-too-thoroughly cowed at this late date. If that wasn’t so, a righteously furious horde of Real Americans would have descended on DC to spring the unjustly-Gulagged J6 dissidents from their durance vile already.

It’s often been said, regarding the slim-to-none chances of honest-to-God rebellion and revolt against burgeoning FederalGovCo tyranny, that nobody wants to be the first to die. Nor is there any discernible interest out there in becoming a martyr for a doomed-in-advance Lost Cause, let alone for any specific individual. With Trump Fatigue settling in upon an increasing number of us, that would doubtless hold true even for The Donald himself.

Such reticence among a great preponderance of Normals may be thought of as ignoble, even downright dishonorable, particularly in comparison with the courageous, selfless sacrifices unflinchingly proffered by the sainted Founders we claim to reverence. That said, it’s by no means unreasonable, at least to a degree understandable, even. Although it does make for some mighty unpleasant contemplation of what it all bodes going forward—not just for President Trump, but for all of us.

Fed UP

Dutch farmers are showing the world the way.

The Dutch farmers just landed a major blow to the wokies with an election win that’s made them the biggest party in their senate

The party of the Dutch farmers, formed only in 2019, has just taken control of the Netherlands’ parliament in a shocking election that has probably sent Klaus Schwab crying to his room.

Here’s how the alt-right domestic extremists over at Fox put it:

“This isn’t normal, but actually it is! It’s all normal citizens who voted,” party leader Caroline van der Plas said. “But today people have shown they can’t stay at home any longer. We won’t be ignored anymore.”

The Farmer-Citizen Movement Party, known as BoerBurgerBeweging (BBB) in Dutch, built its victory on the back of protests against the government’s environmental policies, which aim to slash nitrogen emissions by dramatically cutting back on livestock numbers and buying out thousands of farms. Nitrate and ammonia pollution significantly impacts biodiversity, particularly air and water quality.

The Dutch Senate is the upper house of its legislature and has 75 members. The farmers just took a huge portion of that.

In fact, they have more seats than Prime Minister Mark Rutte’s VVD party. His entire four-party coalition only has 24 seats.

(I know we’re used to two giant political teams here in America, but other countries have a bit healthier way of organizing parties).

Said a mouthful there, bub. Here in Amerika v2.0, we can only boast of just the one, both notional wings of which are supremely disinterested in representing anybody but their own crooked, greedy selves. Check out this heartwarming Tweet.


Now THAT’S what I call a fucking peaceful protest. Of course, we all oughta know by now that, ultimately, “peaceful” isn’t going to be sufficient to dissuade The Enemy from his campaign of serial predation on us—here, there, or anywhere else. But still, it’s not a bad start, right?

The Lazy Left’s go-to lazy answer

IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT, RAYCISS WHYPEEPUHZ!

These sort of stories make the rounds on a regular basis….

Study: Sudden deaths of Black babies rise

Sudden, unexpected infant deaths for Black babies are on the rise.

According to a study published in Monday’s Pediatrics journal, the rate of these deaths for Black infants in 2020 was nearly three times higher than the rate for white babies and rose above Native American infant deaths.

The lowest rates of sudden infant death were found among non-Hispanic Asian and Hispanic infants, the study said.

When dey black babies be all the time dying, it must be RAYCIZM!

I’ll skip ahead to the money quote…..

Those involved with the research said the racial disparity of the infant deaths “reflect our societal failures.”

The report comes from the Pediatrics journal, published by the American Academy of Pediatricians, and like most trade groups within the medical field, the AAP appears to be full on “woke”. What I found interesting was the sentence that immediately preceded the claim that our society has somehow “failed” because black babies be dying all the damn time….

Among the causes of death cited: accidental suffocation or strangulation while in a crib.

Uh…..

Did society fail these stronk blaque mamas of colour by not providing sufficient warnings about the danger of suffocating or strangling your baby? Or are blaque wahmens not smart enough to recognize the very obvious dangers of entangling object in cribs, something that White, Asian and mestizo moms have figured out?

Then I went to the actual article, something very few people likely bothered to do, content instead to accept at face value that White people have once more failed blacks. What I found was not surprising….

And it isn’t, not even a tiny bit. Although Arthur’s post does include ‘em, no link from me to the original AAP article or study. Because fuck those lousy cocksuckers, that’s why.

2

Can’t keep a good man down

As we might well have expected from him, true American Hero James O’Keefe has just proved it.

James O’Keefe Makes His Move After Project Veritas

On Wednesday, James O’Keefe, the former founder and CEO of Project Veritas, announced the launch of his new media organization, named O’Keefe Media Group.

In the video, O’Keefe discussed how he had faced defamation, arrests, and raids and was ultimately removed from the organization he’d spent a significant amount of time building credibility for. Last month, O’Keefe was kicked out of Project Veritas a couple of weeks after the board suspended him.

But, as expected, O’Keefe is bouncing back and seems determined to go bigger and better in service of his original mission.

“The irony of the ACORN story is that it took a 25-year-old with a hidden camera a few days to do what billion-dollar networks and journalists could not do in a decade,” O’Keefe says in a video announcing his new business venture. “I spent 14 years creating the most effective nonprofit newsroom this country has ever seen, and in paving the way to establish citizen journalism, I have been defamed, arrested, raided, and ultimately removed from the organization I spent so much time developing credibility of.”

“I always knew they would try to ruin the reputations of those who expose them,” he continues, “the pharma giants, the three-letter government agencies, and those who I thought I could trust. But in response, we are going to build an army of investigators and exposers. They have awakened [a] sleeping giant.”

“I’m back,” declares O’Keefe, who revealed that a small, tight-knit group of “the most elite journalists in the world” remain by his side.

“Exposing corruption requires standing up to power because power hates sunlight. We are sunlight.”

O’Keefe’s new venture is called the O’Keefe Media Group, which he insists “will never be shut down.” Not only does O’Keefe own it, but anyone can pledge their support to sponsor his army of journalists by becoming a founding member.

Good for him, and may he have tremendous success with his new venture. After so many years of catching miscellaneous evildoers with their pants down—and also seeing as how PV has been hemorrhaging supporters and staff since O’Keefe was unceremoniously shoved out on his ass—I’d estimate his prospects for attaining similar success going forward are pretty good.

5
3

A bigger liar than Juisseh Smollett

The headline alone gives the game away.

REALLY? Joy Behar of ‘The View’ Claims She Talks to Trump Supporters Who Approach Her at the Grocery Store (VIDEO)

Joy Behar of ‘The View’ claimed on the show this week that she sometimes gets approached at the grocery store by Trump supporters, and that she tries to talk with them.

Does anyone believe that Joy Behar does her own grocery shopping at some supermarket? Perhaps more importantly, does anyone believe that Joy Behar would want to engage in some serious dialogue about politics with strangers who voted for Trump? In a public place? Really?

Joy Behar is one of most anti-Trump hosts on ‘The View’ and even in media in general, and that’s saying something.

This is a woman who pushed the Russia collusion hoax and just a few weeks ago, blamed the people of East Palestine, Ohio for the train disaster there because they voted for Trump.

But now we’re supposed to believe she chats with Trump supporters?

What’s even more un-credible than the entirely specious notion that the chronically deranged Behar would stoop so low as to “chat” with anybody who even looked like they might dissent, however mildly, from Standard Issue, Mark-1 Mod-0 shitlib cant is the very idea that any sane person would even dream of “approaching” this wretched, pinch-faced sow ANYwhere, at ALL, EVER, for ANY reason whatsoever.

Shit, if I was out and about and had to pee so bad my eyes were crossing, my knees were weak, and my teeth chattering I would still be willing to walk a mile or more rather than ask the likes of her baggy ass where the nearest public restroom was.

2
1

Now SWEEPING the nation!

The greatest television show ever created. Well, excepting Firefly, of course.


As Ace notes, “Apparently the Osundairo brothers are amusing hosts and naturals on camera.” They are indeed—quite personable, glib, and just damned funny as all hell, as the above vid amply demonstrates. Mo’ bettah:

Brothers in Jussie Smollett hoax break silence, say actor wanted to be ‘poster child for activism’
Abimbola “Bola” and Olabinjo “Ola” Osundairo speak to media for the first time in ‘Jussie Smollett: Anatomy of a Hoax,’ streaming now on Fox Nation

Early in the morning hours of a polar vortex in January 2019, FOX’s “Empire” actor Jussie Smollett claimed two White supremacist Trump supporters attacked him near his Chicago apartment in a racially-motivated hate crime that would soon incite outrage from activists and the media.

It’s the “hate crime” that dominated headlines, but facts proved none of it was true.

In December 2021, the now-40-year-old actor and singer was convicted of five felony counts of disorderly conduct. One year ago, he was sentenced in March 2022 to 150 days in county jail.

Forgive me for saying so, but ol’ Juisseh (hey, that’s the way I’ve always pronounced it, just ’cause I think it’s funnier that way, no other reason) being both black and a rump-ranger, I have a hard time picturing jail as any kind of real hardship for him. A deee-luxe vacation, a rest-cure, more like.

Yes, I know, I know, I’m a homophobic racist bigoted racist H8RRRR.

I DENOUNCE MYSELF…!!!

I DID mention the Osundairos are quite personable and funny, right? Why yes, I believe I did at that.

“You know Eddie Johnson [former Chicago Police Superintendent] said he could tell in the footage that you guys are Black, right?” an off-camera interviewer asked the brothers.

“Really?” Ola asked. “I feel like he’s just saying that… we were in character the whole time.”

“So you think you guys are believable White supremacists?” the interviewer pressed.

“One hundred percent! Look at me,” Bola laughed. Chicago Police released images of the incident shortly after it took place, but Johnson said the initially released image of two silhouettes walking shoulder-to-shoulder down the snowy Chicago street was not the best image they had at the time.

Watch the vid, read it all. Trust me, you’ll be glad you did.

Update! In comments, Aesop says: “Chapelle dealt with the whole incident better in 3½ minutes than the entire woketarded media did in 3½ months, and distilled that @$$hole’s entire career down to a single punchline.” And he’s right about that.

Many thanks for that gem of a find, Aesop.

3
1

It begins

The wheels start coming off of the Biden Economic MIRACLE!!™ bus.

A Blip On The Radar Or The Beginning Of The End?

Despite decades of working in financial services, mostly in customer facing roles where I kissed ass and took the heat for the screw-ups of others, I don’t fully understand what happened with Silicon Valley Bank but when a top 20 bank collapses, it is big news.

As others have pointed out, while SVB is a top-20 bank it pales in comparison to the really big players like Chase and Bank of America. Chase alone has something like $3.2 trillion in assets.

Notice that the bank right below them, Fifth Third Bank where I was a branch manager at a couple of locations, has slightly lower total assets but 1,104 branches while SVB only had 16 branches but more in “assets”. This was a very different kind of bank. Still it is a significant event getting little coverage because Sniffy Man Good is President instead of Orange Man Bad. It was also another opportunity to mock The Wrongest Man Alive, CNBC’s Jim Cramer, who is so reliably wrong you could base your investment strategy just off of doing the opposite of what he recommends (not investment advice, etc)

It is amazing that someone as dumb as Jim Cramer still makes a bunch of money being incorrect.

While I would hesitate to go full Zerohedge and declare this is a harbinger of imminent collapse, it does show us again that the financial system we operate under is a Jenga tower. You can pull a piece out here and there but one of these times a critical piece will come out and the whole thing will fall.

Arthur is correct in his hesitation, but it’s a matter not of statistical inevitability but of simple semantics. The collapse is indeed not imminent; it has already started, is ongoing. Things are going to get much, much worse before they get better, and that’s assuming they DO get better, which is by no means guaranteed. It’s unlikely in the extreme that they will within the lifetime of anyone reading this, that’s my belief.

Read the rest of it; Arthur moves on from the end of my excerpt to do some very astute, clear-eyed analysis of the REAL root causes of the ongoing disaster, which are not so much financial and/or political as they are cultural. He’s right about that, too.

Big trouble update! Not good.

Wall Street’s biggest banks took quite a thrashing in the stock market Thursday as investors spooked the turmoil at Silicon Valley Bank and Silvergate Capital dumped financial shares.

JPMorgan Chase, Bank of America, Wells Fargo and Morgan Stanley – the four most valued US lenders – saw $55 billion wiped off their combined market capitalization on Thursday, Refinitiv data show.

JPMorgan, the biggest US bank, alone saw a $22 billion tumble in its market value as its stock slid 5.41% to $130.34. Wall Street heavyweight Bank of America lost $16.16 billion as its share price fell 6.20% to $30.54. Wells Fargo and Morgan Stanley saw their market capitalization drop by $10.3 billion and $6.2 billion, respectively.

Among other major US banks, Goldman Sachs and Citi also witnessed significant declines in their share prices.

The selloff came amid heightened fears of contagion effects from financial distress at Silicon Valley Bank (SVB) and Silvergate Capital. SVB’s stock crashed 60% Thursday after the company said it would sell more shares to cover a $1.8 billion loss it incurred after completing a $21 billion fire sale of its bond portfolio.

It’s becoming something of a mantra for me, so maybe I should just go ahead and make it an acronym to save myself some typing from here on out: WBBIEB. That is, Worse Before Better, If EVER Better. Pro tip: You will see this material again. And again, and again, and again. Because, y’know, WBBIEB.

1

The Passion of Big Burly Mike

Can you spot the bear-trap the writer of this piece blithely waving away the scarifying possibility of Moochelle running for Prexy in ’24 gets snagged in?

Michelle Obama Is Not Coming to Save the Democrats

I love a good conspiracy theory. Aliens, ancient builders, Bigfoot—I will absolutely click on that headline and read the latest conspiracy, no matter how fanciful or ludicrous. Everyone has a harmless personal foible, right? And in the times we live in now, shadowy government conspiracies and UFOs are no longer just for “The X Files.”

My favorite new conspiracy theory goes like this: the Democrats know they are in big trouble for 2024. They have this addled, dementia-riddled, diaper-wearing octogenarian and his dreadful wife occupying the White House, and he’s become an embarrassment. These days he makes three to four hair-curling, cringey gaffes per week, falls up the stairs to Air Force One every time he tries to trot up them to project American strength and vigor, and has been credibly accused of passing gas in front of the Queen Consort of England. But Democrats can’t abandon him before the primaries because, well, Kamala. So Biden will announce he is running again but will withdraw sometime around the Democratic National Convention so as to clear the presidential field for…

Michelle Obama.

The stench of desperation is hilarious, isn’t it? That’s how bad the field of Democratic presidential prospects is. Democrats must be pretty frantic for someone to have conjured up and floated this rumor. A recent poll indicated 72 percent of Americans don’t want Biden to run again in 2024. Biden will be 82 shortly after the 2024 election. Is this Michelle Obama rumor supposed to give Democrats hope? To keep them from abandoning Biden because just wait, Michelle is waiting in the wings to save their party from Bad Orange Man, or even worse, Ron DeSantis?

Please. I’ll believe aliens taught Bigfoot how to make crop circles in Peru before I buy this one. Michelle Obama hates politics, hates voters, and hates Washington D.C., and not necessarily in that order.

I don’t believe it for a millisecond. Michelle Obama is living her best life right now, the life she has always wanted and felt that she deserved (if her husband hadn’t been a community organizer obsessed with politics who didn’t make any money and forced her to support the family). She’s completely free of the restraint of politics. Now she can say whatever she wants about people she used to have to pretend to like. Polls name her consistently as the most admired woman in America. You think she’s giving any of that up to schmooze and take photos with donors, or hit the campaign trail in Iowa, or spend the night in one-star hotels in Pennsylvania? Not likely.

Maybe so, maybe not. But all the well-known trappings of fame, wealth, and power aside, it would be best not to leave out of our calculations the overwhelming allure of the one enticement that might prove powerful enough to turn even Burly Mike’s big ugly head, creating a 180 degree shift in whatever passes for “thinking” therein, expressible thusly: First Black Female President In US History.

2

Lobbing a doo-doo bomb at the Gooks

Okay, this one’s just too hilarious not to put up here.

It’s True! A toilet was used as an aerial bomb during the Vietnam War

On November 4, 1965, some Vietnamese came across a very strange object that looked as if it had been dropped from the sky. Was it a bomb? Well, it had tail fins and a nose like a bomb. But it was white, and shaped like – a toilet?

It was a toilet in fact. It had been dropped by a VA-25 A-1 Skyraider on a mission to the Mekong Delta in South Vietnam. It had come from Dixie Station, an aircraft carrier base in the South China Sea. The plane’s pilot was CDR Clarence ‘Bill’ Stoddard.

As Stoddard approached his target, he began preparations for attack. He read the ordnance (list of weapons the aircraft carried) to Forward Air Control. At the end of the list, he read ‘and one codenamed Operation Sani-flush.’ What was Stoddard talking about?

The story of the toilet drop was told by Captain Clint Johnson, the pilot of another VA-25 A-1 Skyraider. The toilet was a damaged one that was going to be thrown overboard anyway. But some plane captains decided to rescue it, dress it up to look like a bomb, and drop it in commemoration of the 6 million pounds of ordnance that had been dropped by the U.S. Air Force. The Air Control team said it made a whistling sound as it came down, and that it had almost struck the plane as it came off. A film was made of the drop using a video camera mounted on the wing.

Just as the toilet was being shot off, Johnson said,’ we got a 1MC message from the bridge, “What the hell was on 572’s right wing?” There were a lot of jokes with air intelligence about germ warfare. I wish that we had saved the movie film.’

I can’t believe nobody at the storied Strike Fighter Squadron 25 (Fist of the Fleet) DID; it would speak very poorly indeed of all involved if they didn’t. But knowing Navy combat aviators as I do, and I do, I’d be willing to bet that CDR Stoddard at least might’ve glommed a copy for himself, which is probably still floating around (ahem) out there somewhere—making it the absolutely coolest family heirloom in all human history. I certainly hope that’s the case, anyway.

Before you ask, yes, there are pictures, and They. Are. Good.

DooDooBomb

Too, too perfect.

All this talk of the Able Dog and pictures and such-like practically demands a re-link of this old post, wherein you’ll find pics of one of the greatest experiences of my entire life, to wit: actually piloting one. It was arranged for me by my late, lamented cuz CPT Reggie “Regbo” Carpenter, God rest him.

See, Reg had an older friend who just happened to be the proud owner of an A1D, an Able Dog enthusiast scheduled to be flying at an annual airshow up in Hickory that Reggie had been instrumental in founding and running.

Reg didn’t tell me so beforehand, but as it turned out setting up a free-of-charge ride in a Douglas Skyraider would be just the beginning for me that fine day, the sneaky bastid. Although that would certainly have been enough and to spare, I would’ve been more than satisfied with it.

To my eternal delight, Regbo’s bud had me help out with the preflight walk-around when me, my cousin Mark, and my brother presented our giddy selves at the A1D’s assigned parking spot for our gratis check ride. I was then asked to fill out the preflight checklist form once I’d gotten myself strapped into the right seat.

Perhaps it was the pilot’s subtle way of making sure I knew at least something of what he’d soon have me doing, I dunno. If so, I wouldn’t blame him at all for his judicious exercise of caution. I was a complete stranger to this guy; whatever assurances Reg may have given him to the contrary, for all he knew, he was about to relinquish complete command and control of his cherished, expensive, and increasingly rare (3,180 built, fewer than 20 still airworthy) aircraft to a clueless noob who knew no more about flying a plane than most people do about the construction of a tokamak reactor.

Once we were wheels-up and level, he offered me the stick, whereupon I murmured a duly-stupefied “co-pilot’s airplane” through a grin so wide I nearly swallowed my own ears. After letting me ferociously toss that surprisingly-nimble pig all over the sky for a good twenty minutes or so, he pointed down to a house below (visible through the port cockpit window in one of the pics from the earlier CF post) and said, “See that house down there? That’s where my daughter and her husband live. Pilot’s airplane,” thereby assuming command of the trusty old warbird again.

From there, we racked back around to enter the landing pattern, which was crowded with a flight of three vintage Stearman biplanes in the queue ahead of us as we were coming out of the break onto final ourselves. A pic of them through the canopy:

Sflight

The pilot was having trouble spotting the Stearman flight and asked me if I had ‘em visually, which I did after a moment’s scan of the airspace ahead. I then acted as his eyes in the sky, literally, helping to walk him all the way to a gentle, trouble-free touchdown—the most deflating, depressing part of every flight, for every aviator.

Because that’s the sad, sad moment, see, when it hits you that the fun is truly over, until the next time you’re privileged to take to the air once more, and truly live again.

5
1

Space Farce

FederalGovCo, as is its usual wont, is putting the cart far, FAR before the horse. Hell, you could say it doesn’t even have a horse. Or a cart, for that matter.

There’s a new push to create a Space National Guard. Lawmakers say the price is right.

Lawmakers from both parties have failed — twice — to give the Space Force its own Space National Guard, which they say the new service needs in order to draw on skilled personnel, just like the Army does with the National Guard.

Now, supporters of creating the Space Guard have mounted a fresh pressure campaign with a revised pitch to win over the Biden administration and other opponents: it’s not as expensive as you think.

It’s the latest round in a cross-party turf war that pits members of Congress and National Guard leaders against fellow lawmakers and an administration wary that standing up a separate Space Guard — which would see some current members of the Air National Guard transfer over to the new service — will result in more expensive bureaucracy.

Before starting in on any fanciful speculation regarding some entirely-notional Space National Guard, whatever the price, the goobermint might first want to see about addressing its current lack of any ability to get men into space at all, perhaps. Because as things now stand, the one and only person in the US who’s actually capable of doing anything more than just talk about it is Elon Musk.

Which, to be honest, I’m perfectly okay with.

(Via Glenn)

4
1

They Live!

If you haven’t yet seen John Carpenter’s 1988 cinematic masterpiece, what the hell are you waiting for? Lots of fun facts to be found in IMDb’s Trivia section on this criminally underrated film.

John Carpenter brought real “homeless folks” into the production for several scenes and smaller characters and gave them food as well as paychecks. “I thought that was a pretty classy thing to do,” said Roddy Piper.

The line “I have come here to chew bubble gum and kick ass, and I’m all out of bubble gum” was ad-libbed by Roddy Piper. According to director John Carpenter, Piper had previously written the line in his notebook of potential verbal bits during his wrestling career. He shared the notebook with Carpenter, and they agreed that this particular line fit the character and the film perfectly. Piper went on to use it at a wrestling match.

The big fight sequence was designed, rehearsed and choreographed in the back-yard of director John Carpenter’s production office. The fight between Nada (Roddy Piper) and Frank (Keith David) was only supposed to last twenty seconds, but Piper and David decided to fight it out for real, only faking the hits to the face and groin. They rehearsed the fight for three weeks. Carpenter was so impressed he kept the scene intact, which runs five minutes, twenty seconds.

John Carpenter wanted a truly rugged individual to play Nada. He cast wrestler Roddy Piper in the lead role after seeing him in WrestleMania III (1987).

Vince McMahon didn’t want Roddy Piper to do the film. “Yeah, I figured,” said John Carpenter. McMahon told Piper that he would find him a different film at the same pay rate within four weeks, but Piper passed and ended up splitting with the WWF. Carpenter asks why, and Piper states plainly that McMahon is a control freak. “When I came back to wrestling I was twice as important as when I left,” he says and credits Carpenter and the success of the film. “The politics of that business is something I don’t get,” says Carpenter.

One of the alien TV broadcasts refers to the director by name. The alien commentators (who looks a lot like Siskel & Ebert) are complaining about sex and violence in the media, and the dialog breaks off with the words, “Film-makers like George A. Romero and John Carpenter have to show some restraint. They’re simply—.”

Roddy Piper’s character never gives his name nor is he referred to by name throughout the entire movie. He is simply listed as “Nada” in the credits, a reference to the character George Nada in Ray Faraday Nelson’s short story “Eight O’Clock in the Morning”, from which the film was adapted.

Roddy Piper credited John Carpenter and “They Live” with jump-starting the wrestler-turned-actor migration. “I was the first wrestler ever in the history of wrestling to star in a major motion studio picture that became #1 box office of the weekend, and that gave the itch to I don’t know how many wrestlers. And not one of them to this day has put out a quality picture like this, and not one of them has had a #1 hit like this.”

The role of Nada was originally written for Kurt Russell. But John Carpenter felt he should cast somebody else after casting Russell in four of his films prior to this one: Elvis (1979), Escape from New York (1981), The Thing (1982) and Big Trouble in Little China (1986).

On the commentary, Carpenter pointed out that Piper has made more movies than he has. “I’ve only made 20,” says the director. “Yeah, but you made 20 good ones,” replies Piper.

Plenty more where that came from, of course, and the Goofs page makes for some fun and fascinating reading also, as it always does. I couldn’t say what it was exactly that got me to thinking about They Live earlier today after all these years, but upon reflection it’s really kind of obvious: given the events of this past week, the film has never been more apposite, more directly and pungently relevant, than it is now. John Carpenter isn’t just a gifted director and writer; he’s a fucking prophet.

1

Celebrity dish

Toby, we hardly knew ye.

Why is Tobey Maguire banned from Marvel?

Sony/MCU for the most part are no longer interested in working with Toby McGuire because of his many personal failings which have affected his acting career.

First of all, Toby Maguire has been historically hard to work with. Despite his affable appearance, Toby is an incredible difficult and often unpleasant human being. When it came to his earlier career, he reportedly had multiple issues with co-stars on various movie sets.

Secondly, during the filming of the third Spider-Man film Maguire concocted a plan to squeeze more money out of the Sony. Maguire tried to squeeze even more money out of the studio by naming an exorbitantly high fee.

The actor kept complaining of back pain and demanded that doctors be constantly present on set. It came to the point where a medic was actually measuring out the number of steps that Maguire could make in front of the camera without endangering his health.

All of this put the fate of the movie in jeopardy, and producers started thinking of replacing Maguire with the more sensible Jake Gyllenhaal.

Which, apparently, they decided against. Makes no diff to me either way; personality flaws aside, I thought Maguire did a fine job as Spidey. Then again, I haven’t seen any of the Spiderman flicks other than the first two, and likely won’t.

Maguire also has a horrible gambling addiction and made headlines from his undignified behavior and actions at the frequent underground poker casinos that was set up for elite rich actors and actresses.

The gamblers used to meet at luxury hotels in the atmosphere of utter secrecy. There was no shortage of those willing to play with a world-famous movie star: bankers and tycoons were regularly losing to Maguire by hundreds of thousands of dollars.

One eye witness described Maguire’s behavior:

by Richard Johnson

Former “Spider-Man” actor Tobey Maguire a regular winner in high-stakes poker games “was the worst tipper, the best player, and the absolute worst loser,” according to Molly Bloom, who organized games for Maguire, Leonardo DiCaprio and Ben Affleck.

A Vanity Fair excerpt of Bloom’s new memoir, “Molly’s Game” (ItBooks/HarperCollins), tells how a cocktail waitress from Colorado became Hollywood’s “Poker Princess,” taking home more than $50,000 a night.

Bloom, 36, details how the games ended for good when Maguire decided she was making too much money. The “Seabiscuit” star humiliated her in front of the other players, ordering her to “bark like a seal who wants a fish” for a $1,000 chip.

She tried to laugh it off, but Maguire persisted, “I’m not kidding. What’s wrong? You’re too rich now? You won’t bark for a thousand dollars?”

So in conclusion, Sony/MCU and most production companies will no longer hire Toby Maguire because of his many issues.

Oof. Oh well, assholes gotta asshole, I suppose. Be all that as it may, he’ll always be Spiderman to me.

2
1

How to fix it

Endorsed, wholeheartedly.

College Should Be More Like Prison
The inmates I teach are serious, disciplined, hard-working students, eager to engage with ideas.

Never have I been more grateful to teach where I do: at a men’s maximum-security prison. My students there, enrolled in a for-credit college program, provide a sharp contrast with contemporary undergraduates. These men are highly motivated and hard-working. They tend to read each assignment two or three times before coming to class and take notes as well. Some of them have been incarcerated for 20 or 30 years and have been reading books all that time. They would hold their own in any graduate seminar. That they have had rough experiences out in the real world means they are less liable to fall prey to facile ideologies. A large proportion of them are black and Latino, and while they may not like David Hume’s or Thomas Jefferson’s ideas on race, they want to read those authors anyway. They want, in short, to be a part of the centuries-long conversation that makes up our civilization. The classes are often the most interesting part of these men’s prison lives. In some cases, they are the only interesting part.

Best of all from my selfish point of view as an educator, these students have no access to cellphones or the internet. Cyber-cheating, even assuming they wanted to indulge in it, is impossible. But more important, they have retained their attention spans, while those of modern college students have been destroyed by their dependence on smartphones. My friends who teach at Harvard tell me administrators have advised them to change topics or activities several times in each class meeting because the students simply can’t focus for that long.

If prison inmates, many of whom have committed violent crimes, can pay close attention for a couple of hours, put aside their political and personal differences, support one another’s academic efforts, write eloquent essays without the aid of technology and get through a school year without cheating, is it too much to ask university students to do the same?

Most of them, yes. They won’t, because they can’t. Never having been subject to much in the way of self-discipline or respect for any sort of authority, up to and including parental; possessed of little to no interest in actual education or self-betterment; born, weaned, and raised sucking down the bitter milk of self-indulgence, unearned praise, overentitlement, and low expectations—it is indeed too much to ask. They have been spared the rod, yielding the results predicted by the old biblical homily. That shouldn’t come as any big surprise, to any parent worthy of the name.

(Via VP)

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