Evergreen

In an email exchange with Ironbear earlier I mentioned the incomparable onetime blogger Billy Beck, who I used to correspond regularly with back in the day. We were like those “brothers from different mothers” i’ th’ adage: both of us working guitar-slingers, military aviation buffs, and RightwingNaziDeathbeast Hitlerbloggers with a penchant for expressing ourselves in a totally unrestrained and, shall we say, plainspoken fashion.

I somehow lost touch with Billy some years back, and find myself wondering now about where he might be and what he might be getting up to out there. Though some of the more staid blogosphere denizens in those days regarded him (and me, let’s face it) as way too offbeat, obnoxious, and extreme for civilized company (if not actually crazier than a shithouse rat), as it turns out, what Billy in fact was was a fucking prophet. It’s positively uncanny how many of the things he was sounding the alarm about years ago have come to pass, no matter how seemingly outlandish or outside the odds the prediction might have seemed at the time.

Unfortunately, his blog archives were long ago cast into the outer darkness and are now unavailable anywhere, near as I can make out. Despite this grievous loss, I’m sure almost all CF Lifers will be familiar with his best-known apophthegm: “All politics in this country now is just dress rehearsal for civil war.” Bizarrely, and to Billy’s horror and disgust, that one was later hijacked for nefarious purposes by none other than a certain William J “Bill” Clinton:

Since inception, the line “All politics in this country now is just dress rehearsal for civil war” has been listed on or near the mastheads of a number of politically-oriented websites, among them Sipsey Street Irregulars and Western Rifle Shooters Association, as well as a popular signature phrase in the posts of Usenet newsgroup participants at the time. (The quote was later cited in HL Goodall’s 2010 book, Counter-Narrative: How Progressive Academics Can Challenge Extremism and Promote Social Justice.)

Clinton’s mangle, in a speech to the Center for American Progress, April 6, 2010:

“…One of these guys the other day said that all politics is just a prelude to the ultimate and inevitable civil war. You know, I’m a southerner. I know what happened. We were still paying for that 100 years later when I was a kid growing up, in ways large and small. It doesn’t take many people to take something like that seriously. So I don’t want the whole story of this retrospective just to be about this, and trying to turn everything into politics….”

Naturally, Billy returned fire at The Creep with a characteristically eloquent, thunderous, yet laid-back salvo that was pure 180-proof Billy Beck™:

Beck’s response:

“Here is my conjecture: the ex-president either briefly eyeballed that blog himself, or accepted a memo from one of his flunkies which included the line that I wrote.

I have made up my mind that I would be no more interested in hearing his apology than I am offended by his presumption. It is simply a matter of note that The Lying Bastard of The Ozark Long March knows nothing of which he speaks, amid his insinuations that I advocate violence in this poor country’s current straits.

Here is a word for that despicable person: I am “a Southerner”, too, you strutting ignoramus. I was born in Little Rock, and my mother graduated Central High School six years before Eisenhower finally saw fit to roll out the National Guard. Don’t even try to hand me your threadbare sanctimony about “paying” for the Civil War. For many reasons which I will not attempt to relate to you, I am quite beyond your ex cathedra pose in the matter. You have nothing to say to me. Sit down and shut your insipid mouth.”—Billy Beck, April 21, 2010

Oof. I mean, just…OOF. Also: OUCH.

In casting about trying to locate other traces of his former online presence, I did manage to run across a few more good ‘uns, the first from another sorely-missed Dearly Departed colleague:

Billy Beck nails the auto industry “bailout”
“Things will start to get better when the last indignant buggy-whip maker is strangled with the entrails of the last commissar.”
Billy Beck, 8 December 2008

Tasty stuff, no? And then there’s this, which is so dead-on descriptive of where we find ourselves today as to make the hair on the back of one’s neck stand straight up and salute:

I keep saying it: the basic conflict in American politics is individualism vs. collectivism in all its pretense forms and manifestation. I keep saying it because no arrangements of coalition electoral politics will address this fundamental schism: as the necessary economic implications become real, so-called ‘democracy’ becomes impotent to manage coalition demands, all while the force of ‘law’ becomes more arbitrary at coalition demand.

I’ve been saying it for at least fifteen years: “The pace of this thing is picking up.”

I hate to keep saying it, because I know it’s no fun to hear it and it just wears my narrow white ass out to keep-ass saying it, but the real problem under all this is fucking enormous.

I really don’t think it can be fixed before it really goes the way of the pear. We’re really in it. In our lifetimes.
Billy Beck, Two-Four – What Really Happened

A decade and more ago, Billy was an adept enough visionary to pierce the fog and discern the Big Issues clearly, when the rest of us silly kids still went around acting as if elections mattered.

Time was, stuff like the above sounded genuinely over the top and excessive to most people even on this side of the Great Divide. Now those placid days grow ever harder to recall, while the steady march of history goes about guaranteeing that Billy Beck’s wisdom and insight won’t be forgotten. As I said to ‘Bear: Poor Chicken Little is always laughed at as a nut and a hysteric by more sensible people. And then, one day, the sky comes crashing down on everybody.

Billy, wherever you are: my deepest respect and fondest regards to you, my friend. Hope you’re well.

13

Requiem

SAY. HER. NAME.

The only video Ashli Babbitt’s mom has seen of her daughter on January 6 is a clip of her walking from Donald Trump’s speech to Capitol Hill. “That brings me peace,” Micki Witthoeft, Ashli’s mom, told me by phone on Wednesday. “She was in her zone, so happy, having a great day.”

“Until that son-of-a-bitch shot her.”

Nearly seven months after a United States Capitol Police officer shot Ashli Babbitt in the Capitol building on January 6, the government and subservient corporate news media still refuse to confirm the name of the federal officer who killed her. (Investigative journalist Paul Sperry recently reported the shooter likely is USCP Lt. Michael Byrd.) The Justice Department closed its investigation into her shooting in April and announced the unnamed officer would not face criminal charges.

Three USCP officers participated in an overdramatic public hearing before the January 6 select committee on Tuesday, often referring to protesters as “terrorists,” “insurrectionists,” and “traitors,” though not a single person arrested in the aftermath has been charged with terrorism, insurrection, or treason. They repeatedly claimed they thought they would be killed by the protesters. USCP officer Harry Dunn asked for a moment of silence in honor of Officer Brian Sicknick to once again promote the falsehood that he was killed in the line of duty.

But there was no moment of silence for Babbitt, an Air Force veteran and Air National Guardsman with eight deployments overseas, including to Iraq and Afghanistan, who actually was killed on January 6. There were no tears and table-pounding from crisis-actor cops or emotionally-fragile lawmakers mourning her premature death. Babbitt was just 35.

In fact, no one bothered to mention her name.

Witthoeft, 57, described her oldest child as “determined and strong willed.” A “tomboy” of sorts, Ashli always was up for adventure. While in high school, Ashli decided she wanted to join the military; Witthoeft said she signed a notarized document to allow Ashli to enroll in the Air Force at the age of 17. “September 11 strengthened her conviction to serve,” Witthoeft said.

Ashli graduated from El Capitan High School in Lakeside, California in 2003 and entered the U.S. Air Force. On her 21st birthday, Ashli sustained serious injuries in an explosion at Camp Bucca detention facility in Iraq and was airlifted to a hospital in Germany.

Ashli’s adventurous spirit, Witthoeft explained, is what motivated her daughter to travel alone from California to Washington, D.C. so she could listen to Donald Trump’s speech on January 6. “She was an avid Trump supporter, she knew that’s where she had to be,” Witthoeft said. “She went to all the [Trump] rallies if there was one nearby. She was the political one at our house.” At the time, Ashli and her husband, Aaron, were operating a pool cleaning company in southern California.

Video shows Babbitt with several other people, including police officers, outside the Speaker’s Lobby on the afternoon of January 6. Babbitt is seen yelling at officers stationed in front of a set of double doors, one with a broken window. USCP officers stepped aside a few moments later; people started to smash the glass of the locked doors. Babbitt then attempted to climb through one of the windows.

That’s when the officer, wearing gloves, lifted his firearm and shot her in the neck. She died almost immediately.

Witthoeft remembers getting the call from her daughter-in-law at work. “We knew from the news reports that someone had been shot and killed at the Capitol. So when she called to say Ashli was shot, I just knew. I could tell in her voice. We hoped there was time to pack a bag and get to D.C., but there wasn’t.”

Witthoeft said “red tape” and the military-style lockdown in the capital caused a long delay in getting Babbitt’s body back home. In February, Babbitt was cremated and her remains scattered into the Pacific Ocean near her favorite dog park.

Three days later, after sleeping on her belongings awaiting her return, Babbitt’s beloved German Shepherd died.

And if you don’t find all this heartbreaking, well, you’re nobody I ever want to be in the same room with.

Umm, actually, I take that back.

A few weeks after Ashli was killed, Witthoeft said she finally took her head off her pillow and started making calls. A staffer for Senator Dianne Feinstein’s (D-Calif.) office at first hung up on her, insisting he didn’t know who Ashli Babbitt was. Witthoeft called again; the same staffer answered. She asked to speak with her senator for two minutes. “Ma’am, I am sorry for your unfortunate situation but if your daughter hadn’t stormed the Capitol, she wouldn’t have been shot,” Witthoeft said the staffer told her. “Dianne Feinstein will never have two minutes for you.”

Yep, I take it back. I’d give anything to have about five minutes alone in the same room with that arrogant, cruel piece of shit. Just five minutes, that’s all.

My God. Your tax dollars at work, people. Compare, contrast:

Donald Trump called Witthoeft on July 1. He spoke very warmly about Ashli and talked about the political prisoners held without bond in a D.C. jail for months awaiting trial or plea offers. The people who went to Washington on January 6, Witthoeft said, were “true patriots doing what [the president] told them to do. They believed this was a stolen election.”

Which is nothing more than the plain, self-evident truth. That Trump made time to speak with Ashli’s mom speaks well of him, I must say. Meanwhile, Feinstein’s filthwad staffer is by no means the only one I’d happily give my left testicle for some quality alone-time with.

Her family’s grief has been compounded by the media’s grotesque portrayal of their loved one as a “QAnon conspiracy theorist,” or worse, a traitor who got what she deserved. And such vile comments aren’t coming only from Democrats or leftist nutjobs such as Keith Olbermann. This week, Senator Kevin Cramer (R-N.D.) told a caller on a Fargo radio station that Babbitt was a “criminal” and the public is not entitled to know the identity of the federal officer who killed her. “[W]hat would be the purpose of releasing that officer’s name?” Cramer fumed at the caller’s demand to release his name. “What do you need to know the officer’s name for?”

The first-term Republican senator said he is “grateful” for the officer who shot Babbitt.

Representative Markwayne Mullin (R-Okla.) defended the shooting in a C-SPAN interview this week. Recalling his interaction with the officer after Babbitt was killed, Mullin said, “I gave him a hug and I said, ‘sir, you did what you had to do.’” Mullin never mentioned Babbitt’s name.

Okay, if you aren’t absolutely trembling with rage at this point, might want to have someone near at hand check you for a pulse. Because you almost certainly don’t have one. In fact, it should be throbbing quite visibly in the veins running below and beside your tightly-clenched teeth, dangerously close to bursting them wide open at this gut-wrenching story.

“It’s infuriating,” Witthoeft told me. “She was there exercising her First Amendment rights. This country was founded on brave men and women and I feel like that’s what our patriots were doing,” Witthoeft also said she sings the National Anthem every night at 6:00 p.m. Pacific Time in solidarity with the January 6 detainees held in a D.C. jail, who sing the song every night at 9:00 p.m. in the East. “We’re fighting for justice for all of them.”

Witthoeft, however, is comforted by the outpouring of love and support from so many Americans “lifting up Ashli’s name.” She hopes it results in a “betterment of America.”

A nice thought, generous almost to a fault. Alas, there’s only one way for that to happen now, I’m afraid. And “nice” won’t have anything to do with it.

And her message to those who smear her late daughter’s name? “You only have awful things to say? Well, my daughter fought for your right to say them.”

“You’re welcome.”

No. No, non, nein, nyet, nie. The one and only thing those wretched abominations—the heartless, soulless flatworms just mentioned, along with the USCP thugs, Pelosi, Feinstein herself, and all the rest of Mordor On The Potomac’s repulsive panoply of orcs, trolls, and werewolves—are “welcome” to as far as I’m concerned is excruciating pain and a protracted, agonizing death while screaming. Afterwards, a fitting “memorial” commemorating lives squandered in single-minded pursuit of self-indulgence, ill-gotten riches, and power: a prominent place adorning trees and/or lampposts for them along the Capitol Mall, their mouldering corpses left to swing gently in the breeze until the buzzards have eaten their fill. Those things they’re “welcome” to, and nothing whatsoever more.

Call it their just deserts, say. I repeat: if, after reading this, you are NOT suffused with blinding, inchoate, choking rage, there is DEFINITELY something badly wrong with you.

1

The most interesting man in the WORLD!!

Handlers drag Stutterin’ Jaux out into public view, hilarity ensues. Not that THAT could possibly come as any kind of surprise by now.

White House Struggles To Explain Biden’s Claim About Driving 18-Wheelers

Oh, they’re actually going to bother trying to “explain” this lapse into his typical state of mental confusion, are they? Assuming they do, and I don’t why they would really, I’m betting on the old “it was a joke” standby. That well-worn chestnut always seems to take in the rubes.

The White House is struggling to explain President Joe Biden’s claim that he has driven an 18-wheeler truck, Fox News reported.

“I used to drive an 18-wheeler, man,” Biden said on Wednesday. “I got to.” The president claimed he had driven the massive trucks before while visiting a Mack Truck facility in Pennsylvania, according to Fox News.

The White House didn’t respond to an immediate question from the Daily Caller News Foundation about evidence towards this claim.

Of course they didn’t. I mean, what could they possibly say?

Also left unexplained by White House goons was Jaux Corpsicle’s claim that, during the earliest days of his long and storied trucking career driving for Precion Tool Company in his home town of Memphis, he spent a lot of his off hours at Sun Studios with the legendary Sam Phillips—the man who produced the recording of “My Happiness” that Biden did as a birthday gift for his mother Gladys, which launched his career as one of the world’s most iconic rock and roll singers.

After the men in the long white lab jackets “escorting” Biden at the Mack plant tried desperately to steer their befuddled charge back on track mentally, the ***”””President”””*** launched into a rambling reminiscence of the very first days of his ***”””Presidency”””*** back in 1776, when he personally and singlehandedly penned both the Declaration of Independence and the US Constitution in less than half a day.

Upon being queried by reporters about whether and when the Great Man might sit down to write his memoirs, Biden suddenly turned beet-red with rage at the imaginary slight. “COME ON, MAN!! I did that years and years ago,” the ***”””President”””*** angrily exploded, swinging his withered arms frantically around his head as if he’d been suddenly beset by a swarm of blowflies. “The title of it was, I think, My Personal Best umpty-tumpty-tiddly something or other, can’t remember. But over time, my book became better known as simply the New Testament. Sold a hell of a lot of copies, too, once I gave that Gutenberg feller a few pointers and we got that printing press of his working right again, I tell ya what.”

The White House press corpse fell to its knees at these startling revelations, every voice raised in hosannahs of praise and humble gratitude for what must surely be the greatest leader ever to bestride this poor planet, hailing him as the mighty colossus—verily, the King of Kings—he so truly is.

1

Report

So the Commiecrat’s Jan 6th investigatory commission charade convened today and established itself forthwith as precisely the partisan shitshow all sane people anticipated, with “witness” after “witness” reduced to copious fake weeping for the cameras over the most hideous insurrectionary assault against the “citadel” of “our sacred democracy” in all of history.

Curiously, the name of the ONE SINGLE PERSON who died as a result of wanton violence that day was NOT uttered, not even once, by anyone present.

That is all.

3

OOF!

I have little to no use for polls, as you folks surely know by now. They’re easily rigged to support whatever agenda the pollster wishes to pimp; they’re commonly monkeywrenched by participants who have the same contempt for them I do and respond in prankster-ish fashion; they’re mainly used not to provide honest, reliable snapshots of the public’s general mood, but as tools to leverage political clout and influence. Basically, polls are bunk, and ought to be taken with a bucket of salt, if not ignored entirely.

But I gotta admit, I just love this one.

Wyoming Congresswoman Liz Cheney is the most unpopular Republican in the country among GOP voters, according to a new poll out this month reported by Axios.

While Donald Trump Jr. and Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis led in a survey of prominent Republicans, with a 55 and 54 percent net approval rating respectively, Cheney’s ratings tanked at negative 43 percent.

Um. Well. Okay, then.

Perhaps even better, the accompanying chart shows Senate GOPe “leader” Yertle McTurtle wheezing in at an embarrassing +2. Which makes me think that this is almost certainly the most accurate poll ever taken.

2

Departures

I’m gonna have to postpone my examination of the TSM piece mentioned below, having unexpectedly run across another one at WRSA that led me to…well, first, we have this obit and remembrance for a legendary Naval aviator:

We wake to the sad news that Snort (Capt Dale Snodgrass, USN-RET, callsign “Snort”—M) died in a crash yesterday. I was honored to interview him in 2000, but it wasn’t our first encounter.

In 1985, I was there in the crowd as a teenager when he awed us all in the Tomcat at the Pratt & Whitney airshow in East Hartford. I have chills this morning thinking of the chills I had then, watching the Tomcat in formation with the other Grumman cats, and I do believe it was a missing man formation.

RIP, Snort. Thank you for taking the phone call from a young writer with no credentials, but who was thrilled beyond words to interview the legend.

I imagine so. Follows, a repost of his 2010 interview with CAPT Snodgrass, which runs below one of the most famed photos of Tomcat derring-do ever captured, which I cannot possibly resist running here.

You can practically hear those jet-jock sized Big Brass Ones all a-clank just looking at that pic. On to the interview.

If you’ve researched information on the F-14, it is pretty likely that the name Dale Snodgrass has appeared somewhere in what you’ve read. “Snort” is virtual legend in the Tomcat community, and with more than 4,800 hours in the F-14, he is the most experienced Tomcat pilot in the world. Over a 26-year career in Naval Aviation, he had moved from being the first student pilot to trap an F-14 on a carrier to commanding the US Navy’s entire fleet of Tomcats as the Commander of Fighter Wing Atlantic. Now retired, Snort is on the airshow circuit, flying a wide range of aircraft, from the F4U and P-51 to the F-86, MiG-15, and MiG-17.

The accolades for Snort’s flying are long and distinguished…twelve operational Fighter Squadron/Wing tours, including command of Fighter Squadron 33 during Desert Storm, the Navy’s “Fighter Pilot of the Year” in 1985, Grumman Aerospace’s “Topcat of the Year” for 1986, a US Navy Tomcat Flight Demonstration Pilot from 1985-1997, and numerous decorations for combat and peacetime flight.

This is all good stuff, well worth reading in full if you’re any kind of military-aviation guy at all. But then we get to the part that stopped me COLD and made my eyes bug out comically.

What was your most tense moment in the 26 years?

From a combat perspective, it was when I had a flameout over Iraq while executing a last ditch surface-to-air missile defense. I was leading a night Fighter Sweep in support of an A-6 strike on a power plant on the north side of Baghdad.

As I said, the story of Snodgrass’ close encounter with an Iraqi SAM, which caused a flameout that in turn brought on a 15k-foot altitude drop, leading to an attempted air-start of the dead engine whilst flying through the middle of a thick triple-A barrage, is all good, gripping stuff for sure. But what slammed me betwixt the orbs was the part I bolded in the last line. Because see, I happen to know a little something myself about that A-6 strike he mentioned. In order to explain it, though, we’re going to need to make a little side-trip here, to another obit from 2015.

Reggie Parks Carpenter, 51, Captain, United States Navy, died from sudden cardiac arrest in Buenos Aires, Argentina, on February 3, 2015. Captain Carpenter, from Cherryville, North Carolina, graduated from the University of North Carolina in 1985 with a Bachelor of Arts Degree in Communications. He was commissioned an officer in the Navy via the Aviation Officer Candidate School, and received his aviator “Wings of Gold” in 1987. Captain Carpenter, also known as “Regbo” to fellow aviators, bravely served in the defense of the United States for 29 years.

He flew tactical missions in three jet aircraft, in four operational squadrons, and over six aircraft carrier-based deployments, including one as an exchange pilot with the French Navy.

A graduate of the U.S. Naval War College with a Masters in National Security and Strategic Studies, the personal highlight of Captain Carpenter’s career was his tour as commanding officer of Strike Fighter Squadron EIGHTY THREE (VFA-83), an F/A-18C Hornet squadron at Naval Air Station Oceana in Virginia Beach, VA. His final tours of duty, which he also enjoyed immensely, were in military diplomacy. He served as Naval Attaché to France, from 2007 to 2011, and to Argentina, from 2012 to 2015.

Captain Carpenter was a highly decorated naval aviator who earned many awards and medals during his career, including the Distinguished Flying Cross. A devoted, loving husband and father, he was also a kind, passionate man with quick wit and boundless zest for life. Captain Carpenter is survived by his wife, Suzanne, and daughters, Avery and Caroline; mother, Barbara Cannon; sister, Kelly Stewart; brother-in-law, Bob Stewart; and many loving friends and colleagues from all over the world.

A funeral service will be held at 2 p.m. on Thursday, April 23, 2015, at Vienna Presbyterian Church, 124 Park St. NE, Vienna, VA. Interment with full military honors will take place at 3 p.m. on Friday, April 24, 2015, at Arlington National Cemetery.

You CF Lifers might begin to see where all this is going, I bet. For the shavetails, nuggets, and noobs, this oughta help clear things up.

The CF community suffered a serious loss yesterday, although most of you might not know about it. My “cousin”, Captain Reggie Carpenter, USN, died suddenly in Buenos Aires, where he was serving as naval attache, capping off a distinguished three-decade career as a naval aviator and diplomat.

He wasn’t really my cousin; he was actually my first cousin’s cousin, but his family and mine had been tightly intertwined for our whole lives; our fathers, uncles, and other kinfolk were all close friends from childhood, and the subsequent generations have all retained a sort of extended-family relationship ever since.

Those of you who have been around these parts a good while may remember him as “Regbo,” his flyboy call sign, or simply as “Cuz.” He did a fair bit of writing for the site back in its early years under those handles; he preferred the anonymity of them, for obvious reasons.

Y’all also might remember a post I did years ago from NAS Oceana, where the band had gone to play Reggie’s change of command party at the O-club there. He was taking over Rampager squadron, VFA 83, after having served as XO of the Sunliners. We didn’t get paid for the gig, or at least not in money; we got paid with twenty minutes apiece in the F/A-18 simulators instead. Which just made it one of the most richly remunerative shows I ever did. Hell, just hanging out at the O-club, meeting and hearing the sea stories of these “casual American heroes” as Reg called them, was payment aplenty.

He was a damned fine pilot, flying the A6 Intruder in the first sorties of the first Gulf War, then F14s, then Super Etendards off the Foch for a year as part of the officer-exchange program with the French. He graduated to the Hornet after that, and stayed in ’em for the remainder of his career. He was invited to join the Blue Angels and even toured with them awhile while he considered the offer; he eventually decided against it, and went to the War College instead. Back in his college days he got one of the highest scores ever on the Navy’s Pilot Aptitude test, and just moved on ever upwards from there.

Reg had a heart attack either on his way to or shortly after arriving at work yesterday morning in Buenos Aires (the family is still waiting for details on that); he’d just returned from an African safari with his beloved family. He was due to retire next spring; in fact, the last conversation I had with him was shortly before he left for the Africa trip. He asked if I wanted to attend his retirement party, and I assured him I did. We were talking about maybe having the band play for the festivities, in fact, and I was looking forward to seeing him again. He was 52, which is way too damned young to lose a guy like him. Hard to believe he’s gone so quick. He’ll be missed by all who knew him.

Rest easy, Reg, until we meet on the other side to pick some guitar and talk fighters and politics again. Your whole family was extremely proud of you, as well they might be, and your friends were glad and grateful to know you. Much love to you and your family, brother.

That, of course, is part of the obit I wrote for Reg right here at CF, which includes a photo of him leaning nonchalantly against his own personal F/A-18 that I took at NAS-JAX during a post-gig visit we paid him there once.

So here’s the payoff: that aforementioned A-6 strike over Baghdad on opening night of Desert Storm? Well, guess who else was out there along with Snort Snodgrass? Yep, you got it: none other than one Reggie “Regbo” Carpenter, that’s who.

Reg later sent a somewhat illicit cockpit video home to his (also my) Uncle Gene from that eventful night, along with a letter detailing a harrowing misadventure when his Intruder was struck by lightning (!!!) on the way back to the carrier, knocking out every electronic gee-gaw and instrument save for the gyrocompass. After being asked by the Midway’s comm shack if he wanted to attempt a trap on the carrier deck—sans all instruments and lights, at night, in a storm, no less—Reg opted for what’s known as “the better part of valor” and diverted to the airbase at Riyadh instead, where he landed his damaged aircraft without further trouble.

And that concludes tonight’s amazing tale of serendipitous coinkydink. You really just never know what you’re going to run across out there on the Innarnuts, do ya?

Men like Reg and Snodgrass are a breed apart for sure—capable men, courageous men, dauntless men, men without an ounce of give-up in ’em. Men whose vocabulary assuredly does NOT include discouraging words like “can’t” or “impossible.” As I so often say around here, we need all of such men we can get, and will never have enough of them. RIP, CAPT Snodgrass, and farewell. You too, Reggie.

3

Tyranny comes to your house

It’s roosting on our friend Wes’s doorstep even now.

Yesterday a news headline came to my attention that will affect mine and my families lives.

Charlotte hospitals announce mandatory COVID vaccine requirement for all employees

Charlotte hospital systems Atrium Health and Novant Health will begin requiring all workers get the COVID-19 vaccinations, hospital officials confirmed Thursday.

Atirum Health will require all workers — including remote workers, physicians, medical residents, faculty, fellows, trainees, contractors, medical staff, students, temporary workers and volunteer staff — to get vaccinated or have an approved medical or religious exemption by Oct. 31.

And Novant Health will require the same for all of its employees, contractors, vendors and students by Sept. 15.

My wife is a NICU Nurse and a damn good one. She loves saving babies. She doesn’t want to take the jab and refuses to take this experimental poison.

The fight it seems has now landed at my door. Will anyone help me? Or is it just my problem since your lives aren’t affected by this decision. I’ve got many friends whose wives are nurses and I heard from many of them yesterday. “What do we do?” was the question I was asked. The first option is to try for the religious exemption. Not sure how that is going to go over though with over half of their staff trying to claim it. Hospitals already don’t have enough staff for their patients, what happens when they lose even more staff due to the refusal to take their mandated poison? The second option? Well let’s just say they hope we don’t have to go there. Honestly though, the second option for me is the first, if you know what I mean.

The time to throw down draws near. Sooner or later it’s going to affect us all. All major employers will end up mandating the poison as a condition of employment, due to pressure from TPTB. Or how about if you have to have it to collect Social Security, unemployment, or just being a government employee. I’m tired of waiting for trouble to come to my door. Sadly they are slowly but surely backing good people into a corner. Trouble is here America, and 99% of the people have no clue how bad things can and will get.

Wes is one of a handful of blogosphere colleagues and allies I regularly correspond with; I know him as a good guy and consider him a friend, although we haven’t met face to face. The predicament he now finds himself in is extremely upsetting, even moreso since he’s also literally a neighbor of mine, located no more than 15-20 miles from where I live. Troubling doesn’t even BEGIN to cover it.

And that’s only the personal side of all this. Bottom line is, there’s some seriously unsavory shit going on, and it is now or soon will be on everyone’s agenda, not just one poor ol’ blogger and his spouse. The Überstate’s (Not)Vaxx goon squads are out and about, and they’re all around us. No matter who you are, no matter where you are, they’re coming for you. As Wes said, they are slowly but surely backing good people into a corner.

By now y’all know what I always say about these malefactors: They will not stop; they will have to BE stopped. As they relentlessly, arrogantly snatch all other options away from us one after another, we will soon find ourselves left with but one last, desperate resort. I don’t have to tell you folks what that is. I don’t know what I can possibly do to assist Wes, what any of us can do. What I DO know is that the inflection point, the hour of decision, is nigh upon us all. And none of us—not Wes, not me, not you —should have to face it alone.

Spicy time cometh, and that right soon. Gird your loins, people. Be ready.

12

What’s REALLY around the corner?

William Lind’s thought-provoking guest post at MVC’s place has a look-see, finds unpleasantness.

In the 1930s, a minor British novelist started writing a new book, which was not a novel. Instead, William Gerhardie proposed a theory of history he called “God’s Fifth Column,” which was also his book’s title. His theory was that, just at the point where everyone who was anyone agreed events would go in a certain direction, they instead headed off on a wild, wholly unpredicted tangent.

Gerhardie was inspired by the events of 1914 and their catastrophic consequences, in which we are still enmeshed. Prior to Archduke Franz Ferdinand’s ill-timed trip to Sarajevo—the head of Serbian military intelligence had multiple assassins positioned there—the elite consensus was that another great European war simply was not possible. All the powers’ economies were too intertwined. International trade was essential. Everyone’s stock market would collapse, banks would fail, there would be riots in the streets. Within Europe, the labor market was international; one German soldier taken early in the war said to his British captors, “I hope this is over soon so I can get back to my job driving a cab in Liverpool.” But war came anyway, though no one wanted it, or, afterward, could explain why it had been fought. And the Christian West died in the mud of Flanders and Galicia.

If we look at our present situation through the lens of Gerhardie’s God’s Fifth Column, what do we see? 

After a run-down of some of the uglier things lying in wait for us just around said corner, Lind concludes:

Unlike in 1914, the advent of God’s Fifth Column in our time may not be bad news for conservatives. The “inevitable” future anticipated by the elites is a hellish combination of an absurd ideology, cultural Marxism (currently disguised as “wokeness”) with Brave New World. As Lance Morrow of the Ethics and Public Policy Center recently wrote in the Wall Street Journal,

The struggle to which Americans, of whatever race, should be paying attention is the one that has to do with freedom. It has to do with privacy, mind control, individual liberties—with totalitarian systems of surveillance and manipulation perfecting themselves in an alliance of big tech, big government, global corporations and artificial intelligence. Wokeness…fronts for the real problem of the 21st century: a sinister autocracy just around the corner.

What’s really around the corner is God’s Fifth Column, and it will knock both “wokeness” and Brave New World out of the park.

Let’s hope. After all, something has to. GFC theory looks likely enough to be what does the trick in my opinion, particularly in light of two prospective stumbling-blocks:

  1. It lines up quite smoothly with my own broken-record insistence that there is absolutely no way of knowing what shape the Coming Unpleasantness™ will take, nor what will result from it
  2. The Left, in their purblind arrogance, always, always, always leaves the Hand of the Almighty out of their considerations entirely, which has knocked the pins out from under far better and smarter people than they’ll ever be

The only sure thing is that we’ll find out soon enough.

3

Non-event

And suddenly, there may be a reason to care about the fucking Olympics.

Olympic Madness: Women’s Beach Handball Team Fined for Not Showing Enough Booty

“Madness”? Waitwaitwait a minute—is this guy saying he thinks showing more booty is a BAD thing?

Is it just me, or did the Olympics, once upon a time, actually have some credibility? Didn’t the Olympics used to be a gathering place for champions? A moment where nations shined and personal bests were achieved? The first stop on your way to a Wheaties box? I could swear it was not that long ago.

Credibility? From everything I’ve read over the years—which isn’t actually all that much, since I never did give a tinker’s damn about any fucking Olympics—and from what I saw living in Atlanta during the Olympics there back whenever the hell that was, the fucking Olympics have pretty much always been all about the corruption and graft, on the behind-the-scenes business end at least. Throw in whacking great gobs of gooey-eyed nonsense about “promoting international understanding and cooperation” and other such rot and it shouldn’t be too tough to understand my iron determination to avoid the whole emetic shebang.

That being said, can someone pinpoint for me exactly when the Olympics went from being something we all could believe in to the godforsaken sideshow it and the events that surround it are today? Can someone tell me why we should give more than 60 seconds of our time to whatever beleaguered media event is scheduled for Tokyo?

Not really, no. But I’m probably not the guy you wanna be asking.

The Norwegian Women’s Beach Handball team (and btw, what the hell is beach handball and when did it become an Olympic sport? What’s next, shuffleboard?) was fined $1,700 for choosing to wear shorts instead of bikini bottoms during competition. The team noted that the shorts were easier to play in, and I am reliably informed by an actual woman and not a “menstruating person” that during a woman’s period, bikini bottoms can be problematic at best, and disastrous at worst. 

A measly 1700 clams? Hell, I doubt that will be anything like enough to get the Norwegian lassies back into the bikinis again, blast it. Although I will concede the point about the menstruation issue, if somewhat grudgingly.

Although the sanction was played down, the message is clear, whether the league officials approve it or not: People are expected to tune in to the Olympics to see scantily clad women, not athletes. Apparently, there is money to be made by blurring the line between sports fan and hormone-stricken teen. Or dirty old man.

NOW you’re singing my tune, buddy.

On the flip side, track and field Paralympian Olivia Breen was told at the English Championship that her shorts were too short.

Unpossible. Ain’t no such thing. Except on a fat broad, of course.

And as if that were not enough, another Paralympian, Becca Meyers, has withdrawn from the Tokyo games. Meyers is a swimmer and is blind and deaf. She was told she could not bring her caregiver with her. Did I mention that her caregiver is her mother? Never mind Becca Meyers’ needs or her dignity. Let’s get that blind and deaf girl in front of the cameras.

Okay, I will agree that does seem a pretty shitty thing to do. Pointless, petty, and self-defeating also, just a bonehead move all around. One wonders just what the hell those people were even thinking with that one.

So, the Norwegians are sanctioned for not showing enough skin—because, you know, sex and ratings and stuff. The Paralympians are sanctioned for being people and not merely disabled and checking the right box for the IOC, sponsors, and broadcasters. They have no value as athletes or as people. Once again, human beings are made into products.

So, for the sake of the Norwegian Women’s Beach Handball team, Olivia Breen, and Becca Meyers, when the Tokyo games begin, I would tell the IOC and whatever idiot legacy media outlet has the temerity to broadcast the games to go to hell. Go directly to hell.

Oh, I assure you I will be. The last few fucking Olympics came and went with me being completely unaware they were even going on at all, a streak I intend to extend by ignoring them again this year, or whenever it is these fucking Olympics are scheduled to take place. Not having to pretend I give a lumpy fart about the Games is a big ol’ win as far as I’m concerned.

2

That makes two of us

I’m with him.

The trouble with researching anything having to do with Covid-19 is that from the very beginning, the numbers have been falsified. When a person died in a motorcycle accident, who also had asymptomatic Covid, determined by a test that was being improperly used, i.e., at greater than 25 cycles, above that it is wildly inaccurate it, (the PCR test for Covid was usually run at 35-45 cycles) was listed as a Covid death. This was done to create fear and panic, drive lockdowns and mask mandates, all to the benefit of the government, it was a test of the people. As early as May 2020 Colorado had to reduce the number of Covid deaths by 25%. Coincidentally, Alameda County, in California, had to reduce their number of deaths by the same 25%. I doubt that the numbers were inflated by the same rate as a matter of coincidence.

No one knows exactly how many people died of Covid across the nation, so comparing those deaths with the deaths of those taking the injection is impossible. The interest of the state and the medical community pushing the injection leads one to believe that the numbers of those adversely affected by the injection would be similarly corrupted downward as the Covid deaths were pushed upward. But using what we have available from the CDC and VAERS reporting system, of the roughly 500,000 people who have so far had adverse reactions to the injection, 1.7% of them resulted in death. To keep the message clear, 1.7% does not reflect the percentage of people dying from the shot, just 1.7% of the people who suffered adverse reactions to it.

If 161,000,000 Americans have received the injection and there have been 11,000 deaths as a result that’s not that far off as a percentage of those who supposedly died of Covid where they were otherwise healthy with no comorbidities. That was enough to shut down the entire Western world, but a similar 99.993% survivability of the injection is regarded as “safe and effective.”

Either .003% deaths caused by a virus is nothing to worry about or .003% deaths caused by the injection is enough to stop the program in its tracks. It cannot logically be both.

Some of you greybeards among CF Lifers may remember the swine-flu panic of ’76; certain echoes from that clown-car act resound pretty powerfully today.

Swine flu ‘debacle’ of 1976 is recalled
Warren D. Ward, 48, was in high school when the swine flu threat of 1976 swept the U.S. The Whittier man remembers the episode vividly because a relative died in the 1918 flu pandemic, and the 1976 illness was feared to be a direct descendant of the deadly virus.

“The government wanted everyone to get vaccinated,” Ward said. “But the epidemic never really broke out. It was a threat that never materialized.”

What did materialize were cases of a rare side effect thought to be linked to the shot. The unexpected development cut short the vaccination effort — an unprecedented national campaign — after 10 weeks.

The episode triggered an enduring public backlash against flu vaccination, embarrassed the federal government and cost the director of the U.S. Center for Disease Control, now known as the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, his job.

The pandemic fears of the time and the resulting vaccine controversy may be fueling some of the public’s — and media’s — anxiety about the current outbreak, said health officials who recalled the previous event.

Do note that the “current outbreak”rferenced above is NOT the Fauxvid scam. It’s actually the swine-flu rerun from 2009 they’re talking about.

Starting to sounding familiar at all yet? If not, just cool your jets, people, we ain’t anywheres NEAR done.

Ward said his family discussed the vaccine in 1976 and decided not to get it. If a vaccine is ordered for this latest threat, he said, “I’m not getting it. I felt back then like it was a bunch of baloney.”

The swine flu brush of 1976 — some call it a debacle — holds crucial lessons for the government and health officials who must decide how to react to the new swine flu threat in the days and weeks ahead.

For starters, officials must keep the public informed. They must admit what they know and don’t know. They must have a plan ready should the health threat become dangerous. And they must reassure everyone that there is no need to worry in the meantime.

Okay, that’s a departure from the past year and a half’s shitshow: instead of trying to “reassure everyone that there is no need to worry,” today’s goobermint “health” and Enemedia apparatchiki have gone well out of their way to sow as much panic as they could.

Officials should be prepared for plenty of second-guessing, especially for any decisions regarding vaccination, which was at the core of the 1976 controversy, said Dr. David J. Sencer, the CDC director who led the government’s response to the threat and was later fired.

Fired, eh? Gee, if only somebody had pulled then-President Trump aside in January of 2017 and quietly re-introduced him to that word. Herr “Doktor” Fauci would have long since been frogmarched to the exit—him, and a whole bunch of others along with him— and we’d all be much better off for it.

“There were good things and bad things about it,” said Sencer, who is retired and lives in the Atlanta area. “People have to make science the priority. They have to rely on science rather than politics.”

The question of whether politics overtook science in 1976 has been the fodder of books, articles and discussions for 33 years.

Whoooa NELLIE. Not repeating, perhaps, but rhyming all to hell and gone. And now we come to the part (bold mine) that’s really gonna ring your bell.

At the CDC, Sencer solicited the opinions of infectious disease specialists nationwide and, in March, called on President Ford and Congress to begin a mass inoculation.

The $137-million program began in early October, but within days reports emerged that the vaccine appeared to increase the risk for Guillain-Barre syndrome, a rare neurological condition that causes temporary paralysis but can be fatal.

Waiting in long lines at schools and clinics, more than 40 million Americans — almost 25% of the population — received the swine flu vaccine before the program was halted in December after 10 weeks.

More than 500 people are thought to have developed Guillain-Barre syndrome after receiving the vaccine; 25 died. No one completely understands the causes of Guillain-Barre, but the condition can develop after a bout with infection or following surgery or vaccination. The federal government paid millions in damages to people or their families.

Got that, folks? In 1976, 25 deaths were all it took to bring a vaccine program to a screeching, smoking halt. But that was then, and this is…not. Today, with untold thousands of deaths caused by the untested, unproven, and extremely shady chemical cocktail which they claim is a “vaccine” but which does none of the things actual vaccines are by definition supposed to do, our FederalGovCo “health” bureaucracy prefers to continue imperiously pressuring rightly-skeptical Americans into taking the NotVaxx; censoring all discussion of the various issues involved; and blacklisting those of us who have absolutely no intention of surrendering to the dubious-at-best mass propaganda campaign and submit to the Jab.

This is what is some call “progress.” Back to TL for the closer.

These globalists feel above the rest of humanity. They have no compassion or interest in letting the rest of us alone. We are a bother and a nuisance. They don’t see the rest of us as human beings, we are just the masses that eat too much, drive too much and destroy everything with our multitude. In their minds, if they could get robots to serve them food, laugh at jokes and fill the jet with fuel, etc., they could get rid of 90% of humanity and wouldn’t it be so cool to ski Aspen with just friends and family?

Keep in mind they have tried to reduce the population with wars and internal conflict, constantly finding ways to divide us. They’ve done it by destroying the nuclear family. They’ve done it by trying to pit white against black, black against Asian, Hispanic against black. They’ve done it with the influx of drugs, the increase in sexual slavery and abortion. Wherever there’s a chance to increase war or reduce population, they’ve facilitated it in any way they could. If a world war won’t do it without destroying everything they want to keep, perhaps a world-wide poisoning would be better.

Trust us, sayeth the goobermint? Not on your life, sez I.

I think it’s easier to eliminate those with such a mindset than to wipe out ninety percent of humanity to accommodate it. But that’s just me.

Not just you, buddy. And at the risk of pointing out something entirely obvious here, allow me to say that—purely as a practical matter—it would be a lot easier to eliminate THEM instead. There are far fewer of ’em, for one thing, which spares our precious Gaia from the serious harm having to dig a bunch of mass graves or burn all those greasy corpses would cause. Plus, in ethical terms it’s no more than what the rotten bastards deserve.

1

Whistling past the graveyard

Wherein I must take issue with something ZMan says, which I’ll put in bold.

One of the underappreciated qualities of liberal democracy is its ability to grow and develop its own opposition. In the Cold War this was not obvious as communism in the form of the Soviet Empire filled the role. Domestically, the inner party had the outer party as a fixed partner. Democrats controlled domestic policy, with some mild opposition from the Republicans. On the other hand, the Republicans controlled foreign policy with some mild dissent from the Democrats.

This partnership collapsed when the Soviet Union collapsed. A year after the voters overwhelmingly approved the appointment of former C.I.A. man George H. W. Bush as the successor to Ronald Reagan, the logic of having spooks run the country no longer made much sense. The system quickly pivoted to Saddam Hussein as a temporary fill in for the evil empire, but he was a poor replacement. In the next election the Cold War generation was replaced with the Woodstock generation.

The Clinton years were really just an interregnum. The system needed to learn how to create new enemies. We got the beginnings of the great Islamic enemy and an effort to recreate the holocaust in the Balkans. It was not until the son of the former C.I.A. man that we got the threat of international Islam as the new enemy. Fear of men on flying carpets carried the system into the Obama years. Toward the end of his second term, the search for a new enemy had started.

The crusade against the Mohammedans was the first full attempt to recreate that old magic and provide the regime with legitimacy and authority. It is why 9/11 became a solemn holiday celebrated by both sides of the regime. Even though the left-liberals opposed the right-liberals in the prosecution of the crusade, they completely accepted the origin of it and the centrality of it. Note that the last anniversary of 9/11 came and went without much ceremony. It no longer matters.

Actually, umm, no. Not just noHELL NO.

After thousands of dead and dozens of serious terrorist acts in the US alone since 9/11; tens of thousands of jihadist attacks around the world in what you might call the modern era, ongoing since the 1970s; and the ceaseless campaign of conquest and domination Muslims have waged since their twisted pseudo-religion’s inception in the 7th Century AD, the notion of any unwarranted “crusade” against Muzzrats contrived for purposes of subterfuge by the goobermint is laughably absurd. Nobody, but nobody, needs to make up a goddamned thing about the threat posed to Western Civ by jihadis; they’ve made that abundantly clear all by themselves, thanksveddymuch.

Not that the goobermint WOULDN’T do such a thing, mind. It’s just that in this particular case, they don’t have to. Steyn offers just one example that proves the point.

Kurt Westergaard and I were successive winners of the Danish Free Press Society’s Sappho Award. I was very flattered to find myself in his company, but couldn’t honestly say I deserved to be. Kurt was one of the bravest men of our time – not because he was inclined to bravery, but simply because, when it was required, he met the challenge and never backed down.

Sixteen years ago Flemming Rose of the Danish newspaper Jyllands-Posten decided to conduct a thought experiment in public after an author casually revealed that he couldn’t find any Danish artist willing to illustrate his book about “the Prophet Mohammed” (as the BBC now routinely styles him). So Flemming called twelve cartoonists and invited them to depict the late Prophet. Kurt Westergaard’s cartoon was the memorable one, and the one you recall as the years roll by. It was a pithy visual jest: Mohammed’s turban as a bomb with a lit fuse. See picture at top right.

“I attempted to show that terrorists get their spiritual ammunition from parts of Islam, and with this spiritual ammunition, and with dynamite and other explosives, they kill people,” Kurt told my old newspaper The National Post a few years back. “I showed this in a cartoon and what happened? They want to kill me, so I think I was right.”

Like most of the men and women I have shared a stage with in Europe this century, he was an old Sixties radical sufficiently principled to think the same kind of jokes he’d applied to church, monarchy, parliament and every other societal institution should also be applied to Islam. He never wanted to be a “free speech hero”, but gamely bore the burthen once it had been dropped on him. He certainly never wanted to be world-famous, albeit more so in Mogadishu than Manhattan and Lahore than Los Angeles. It cost him a comfortable retirement, weakened his health, and an ever more craven culture denied him the consolations of monetary exploitation. When I expressed sympathy, he laughed and said he’d do the same cartoon all over again even knowing what he was in for.

The blood lust began with a trio of imams on the make shopping the twelve cartoons (plus three cruder fakes) round the Muslim world, and leaving it to the usual Islamonutters to take it from there: In nothing flat, over two hundred people were dead – which meant that CNN & Co were obliged to cover the story. They did so by modifying Westergaard’s cartoon, with Mohammed’s face pixilated, as if he’d entered the witness protection programme. If only. In reality, it was that dwindling band of people who believe in free speech – and, indeed, free speech itself – that found itself in the witness protection programme.

And so it went on. On the fifth anniversary of the cartoons, I was being interviewed in Copenhagen by Flemming Rose and his colleagues when we were alerted that a one-legged Chechen had accidentally self-detonated in his hotel room en route to blow them up. Whenever I tell this story, the phrase “one-legged Chechen” always gets a laugh, although it is in fact no laughing matter hopping across an hotel room with a homemade bomb. But these guys are always a laughingstock, aren’t they? Until, as at Charlie Hebdo, they finally pull it off.

To the end of his life, al-Qa’eda and its affiliates had a combined eight-figure bounty on Kurt Westergaard’s head. His death, a day after his eighty-sixth birthday, prompted a few Scandinavian chums to assure me that he’d had the last laugh – that now no jihadist would ever collect those multi-millions.

Maybe. But the excitable Mohammedans aren’t really the issue; the unexcitable west is. On the home front we are remorselessly trading core liberties for a supposed quiet life and congratulating ourselves for doing so. The most lauded cartoonist in America, Garry Trudeau, took it upon himself – in prepared remarks delivered on stage – to blame the dead of Charlie Hebdo for getting themselves murdered. Trudeau’s rationale is that in mocking Islam these cartoonists are “punching down” at a disadvantaged minority – as opposed to doing what Trudeau has been doing for half-a-century and having the guts to “punch up” by attacking the, er, GOP. Only in the crapped out monodailies of the dying American media could this talentless twerp become wealthy and important.

For my own part, I would have liked Kurt Westergaard to have outlived the far inferior draughtsman Trudeau. In my initial reaction to the Motoon crisis, I channeled Nelson Eddy:

The minute there were multimillion-dollar bounties on those cartoonists’ heads, The Times of London and Le Monde and The Washington Post and all the rest should have said ‘This Thursday we’re all publishing all the cartoons. If you want to put bounties on all our heads, you better have a great credit line at the Bank of Jihad. If you want to kill us, you’ll have to kill us all. You can kill ten who are stout-hearted men but you’ll have to kill ten thousand more. We’re standing shoulder to shoulder, and bolder and bolder.’

But they didn’t do that. And as the years passed, in the leading cities of the west, even the rote pro forma defenses of free speech grew fainter and faded away. Kurt Westergaard bore a decade-and-a-half of continuous murder threats – coupled with indifference and condescension from Trudeau and other pampered eminences of his own profession – with good humor, steely determination, and no doubts about the justice of his cause. We need more like him. Rest in peace.

Seconded, most heartily. As Steyn said, we need more like him—as many as we can possibly get. If you truly think we’ve all been misled into unjustly considering Mooselimbs a deadly, and deadly-serious, enemy, you got some more thinking to do, I’m afraid.

Oldie but goodie

Aesop reruns an old post of his from 2018, a remembrance of the first moon landing on its anniversary, and it’s an inspiring read.

Fifty-two years ago today, and just a few hours from now, is the exact anniversary of when 50,000 steely-eyed missile men, crew-cutted geeks with pocket protectors, test pilots, fighter pilots, and hundreds of metric tons of raw testosterone kicked the rest of the world’s ass right to the bottom of the heap, going back to the dawn of time, from the moment that Eagle landed, to when this guy’s foot stepped off the LEM ladder.

Neil Armstrong, ace X-15 test pilot, and mission commander of Apollo XI, became the first man from earth to ever set foot on the Moon, and if and until we ever get people to Mars, he put every explorer in history, and even every guy to follow, below him on what Tom Wolfe correctly called “the top of the pyramid.”

He was there because he and his sidekick, lunar module pilot, and outside-the-box revolutionary thinker Buzz Aldrin had managed to land the lunar module manually, off course, and with mere seconds remaining for landing before a crash-tastrophe, because you don’t fly 250,000 miles to puss out at the last 12 seconds, just for such piddling concerns as running out of fuel.

As I said, a fine read, well worth a look in. But the real reason I brought it up was so I could rerun something my own self, something near and dear to my coal-black heart: the absolutely immortal vid of eternal badass Aldrin poking one of those stupid-ass moon-landing deniers right in the snoot.



Heh. Fatass gets all up in the grill of a bona fide American hero and defames him as “a coward and a liar,” Fatass gets what he has coming to him without further ado. It’s beautiful, that’s what.

I mean, the nerve of that honking, sebacious tub of goo. If Aldrin had shot the bastard down and left him for dead on the sidewalk, I’da stood up and cheered till my throat was sore. As it is, that footage ain’t NEVER getting old as far as I’m concerned, not if I live to be a hunnert and fitty. What’s captured therein is, basically, everything that’s wrong with America today juxtaposed with everything that was once right about it. They just don’t make ’em like Buzz Aldrin anymore, folks, which is precisely why we are where we now are.

4
4

Fly Fall from the friendly skies!

Man, I sure am getting a lot of mileage lately from that old ad slogan, ain’t I?

It seems like a really bad idea, yet it’s one United Airlines reportedly just bought into – probably for many millions of dollars (the actual sum hasn’t been disclosed). It will “invest” in the development – italics to emphasize the nonexistence at present – of the ES-19, an electric aircraft that exists on the drawing board only. This hypothetical aircraft is being developed by a Swedish company with the cloying name, Heart Aerospace – which summons images of kumba-ya’ing around the campfire in a collective hug.

But will it fly? 

Not with me in it, it won’t. Not ever, not one single time.

It is claimed that the ES-19 will have a range of about 250 miles – which is just barely enough to make the short hop from DC Dulles to a regional airport such as Roanoke, in SW Virginia. With very little margin to spare. What happens if the plane needs to circle, as because of traffic or weather?

Maybe it would be a good idea to equip this one with parachutes rather than flotation devices.

People who know airplanes raise other pertinent questions, such as the drain on the electric airplane’s batteries during taxiing from the terminal to the runway, which as anyone who flies commercially knows sometimes takes half an hour or more. All the while, the heat or AC must be running, in addition to the lights and all the plane’s electrical systems. Does the advertised 250 mile range factor these considerations in?

The FAA nominally requires redundancies and margins-of-error for commercial aircraft especially. It is why, for instance, commercial aircraft that fly over the ocean must be able to remain in the air if one or more engines cut out.

What if the batteries cut out? 

Which – it bears repeating – it is more likely to because an electric airplane will necessarily be heavier than a jet-powered airplane because of the massive weight of the batteries that will be necessary to drive electric props sufficiently powerful to get it in the air. But the weight of all those batteries will necessarily reduce the amount of time it can remain in the air. 

If it smells of unicorn farts, your nose is working.

Astute commenter Baxter raises a glaringly obvious potential-failure-point issue that leaves one totally mystified as to what the everlasting fuck the Supergenii™ skull-sweating over this fever-dream could possibly be thinking—besides MUH GAIA!!!, that is.

Other things to think about: Batteries suck when it gets cold. Forget an electric car in the winter when it’s 20 degrees F. Planes need to fly high where there is less air friction. Think about a plane (summer or winter, doesn’t matter) at 35,000 feet where it’s 65 degrees below zero F. Plane batteries will obviously need to be heated. Where does that heat come from? The batteries, limiting range even more so.

Obviously, as with the Goobermint-decreed transition from ICE cars to useless, unreliable, and unsafe coal-powered ones, the hidden agenda here is to eventually eliminate flying altogether. Except for the Kommissars, natch. They’ll still carry on as before, just without having to sully themselves with any unpleasant physical proximity to us beastly, smelly serfs in the airport cocktail lounge anymore. The vlasti won’t be replacing their in-flight steak or burger with the new bug-beef they’re foisting off on us proles either, you betcher.

1

CF Archives

Categories

Comments policy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

CF Glossary

ProPol: Professional Politician

Vichy GOPe: Putative "Republicans" who talk a great game but never can seem to find a hill they consider worth dying on; Quislings, Petains, Benedicts, backstabbers, fake phony frauds

Fake Phony Fraud(s), S'faccim: two excellent descriptors coined by the late great WABC host Bob Grant which are interchangeable, both meaning as they do pretty much the same thing

Mordor On The Potomac: Washington, DC

The Enemy: shitlibs, Progtards, Leftards, Swamp critters, et al ad nauseum

Burn, Loot, Murder: what the misleading acronym BLM really stands for

pAntiFa: an alternative spelling of "fascist scum"

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

Subscribe to CF!

Support options

Shameless begging

If you enjoy the site, please consider donating:

Correspondence

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

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

Allied territory

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

Fuck you

Kill one for mommy today! Click to embiggen

Notable Quotes

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

Claire's Cabal—The Freedom Forums

FREEDOM!!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Best of the best

Finest hosting service

Image swiped from The Last Refuge

2016 Fabulous 50 Blog Awards

RSS feed

RSS - entries - Entries
RSS - entries - Comments

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

Copyright © 2026