The Hand of God

Now and then He allows us a glimpse of it, not in a “smiting” sort of way but in a more or less benevolent one. Might this be one of those times…?

Update! Via Glenn, further evidence, p’raps possibly.


And another, via Stephen.


Perfectly accurate, I’d imagine.

Fitting tribute

To the only ZZ Topper who, to my knowledge, never sported a full beard.

As per usual, I really can’t remember where I spotted this one, but no way could I not snag it and run it here. Apologies to whoever for being unable to give proper credit.

The last man standing

In this case, is Billy Gibbons.

Frank Beard, Veteran Drummer for ZZ Top, Dead at 77
Frank Beard, the veteran drummer for the rock band ZZ Top, has died at the age of 77.

Beard died on Monday at his Texas ranch following a stay in hospice, the Fort Bend County Medical Examiner said. His exact cause of death has not been disclosed at this time. Billy F. Gibbons, founder of ZZ Top, mourned the drummer’s passing in a statement shared to TMZ.

“Today, Elwood and I lost a great friend and collaborator, and the world lost one of the most naturally innovative drummers and a great and true son of Texas. His signature backbeat was key to keeping ZZ on top. The band of which he was part for six decades is going to keep on keeping on as he had wished,” said Gibbons. The drummer’s health has been a source of contention for several weeks, with the band having to cancel its August 5 concert at the Hollywood Bowl due to his ailment.

“With the passing of Frank, ZZ Top is canceling their show tonight in Salt Lake City and tomorrow Colorado Springs … they’ll resume this weekend with two dates at Austin City Limits — at one of Frank’s favorite venues,” TMZ reported.

“Frontman Billy Gibbons said at the time the band was dealing with “insurmountable obstacles” and asked fans to bear with them during the interruption,” it added. “Frank had also been absent from the band’s recent performances … with drummer Michael Monahan filling in behind the kit. ZZ Top performed without Frank in Saratoga, California just days before TMZ learned of his death.”

He will surely be sorely, sorely missed.

Update! Good Lord, man, how could I ever even have dreamed of leaving this classic out?

Sen Tim Scott, class act

Shitlibs, take note. Not that you ever will, natch.

Watch: Friend and Fellow SC Sen. Tim Scott Sends Off Lindsey Graham With Lovely In Memoriam
Republican Senator Lindsey Graham of South Carolina was one of those members of Congress you figured would live forever, like the late Sen. Bob Dole of Kansas or someone else of that generation of elder statemen in the GOP. It seems like he’s always been around Washington to this Gen Xer. But as readers likely know, he passed away on Sunday at age 71 after a brief, sudden illness. (Later in the day, we got a little more information on Graham’s death, in case you missed it.)

Senator Tim Scott (R-SC) appeared on CNN’s State of the Union program on Sunday morning, in part to send off his fellow SC senator – and friend – with a beautiful and poignant in memoriam. It’s worth watching in full, but I’ll share some excerpts below.

Vidya at the link, excerpts from Scott’s segment below.

…[O]ne of the most important stories about Lindsey Graham is that, when I was a new senator, he welcomed me in.

He knew that my path was different. He understood the power of change in South Carolina and how much our state had changed. But he was one of the first folks in the Senate to welcome me in with open arms. And I will say that I do a South Carolina prayer breakfast there every year in D.C.

And I called Lindsey the first time. And Lindsey says: “Tim, if this thing starts before 10:00 a.m., I’m not coming, because I’m not going even if Jesus comes back before 10:00 a.m.”

And I just laughed out loud, and, of course, it started at 8:30. And he [sic] walked in the door at 8:31? Lindsey Graham. He was just the kind of committed person that you don’t really appreciate how much — how committed he was to America.

Because of the pain of his past, his father dying of a massive heart attack at I think it was 69 years old, his mother dying of cancer, Lindsey Graham had a passion for so many of the important issues around cancer research and around taking care of people.

He didn’t want anyone to feel invisible in his presence. And he used levity and wit to help people go through really hard times. And I got to tell you, it’s just a devastating loss for our state of South Carolina, and, frankly, for me as an individual.

Scott goes on from there to discuss Graham’s relationship with Trump, which was quite rocky in the beginning but later matured into a very cordial friendship as…go on, take a wild guess…uhhh, GOLF BUDDIES?!?

…[A] lot of times, friendships happen not at a kitchen table, not, frankly, in the Oval Office, but, for them, it happened on the golf course. And these two guys loved golf. I think Lindsey would say, the president wins more than I do, but he played pretty aggressively against the president.

And I think it was that competitive spirit that they both loved and admired about each other. And Lindsey was super smart and witty. He had the ability to make you laugh, but he was making a point in the midst of it.

And President Trump really understood that, and their relationship over the next 10 years, so to speak, from the time they were running against each other, became something that Lindsey could count on, and President Trump could count on too.

I can tell you, they played golf together more than any two other folks in public office at any time of, I think, in history.

Well, whatever floats your boat, I suppose. Good for them.

Update! Another eulogy from Kruiser:

Lindsey Graham is the man who launched a thousand opinions. Nobody was neutral when it came to Graham, which I think is one of the highest compliments that anyone can receive. You could find the full gamut of opinions among just Republicans. He could be infuriating at times, then he could be the GOP pitbull that you needed to send after the Democrats.

I Will freely admit that I never much cared for the guy, by and large considered him just another all-sizzle-no-steak Vichy GOPe blowhard, and didn’t hold back on ripping him to kibble and/or bits here many times over the years. Then again, though, there was his stellar performance during the Kavanaugh dustup:

Graham was absolutely on fire during the Brett Kavanaugh confirmation hearings in the summer of 2018. The Democrats were frothing at the mouth with their “Believe All Women” nonsense, and Graham was having none of it. At one point, he refused to yield his time and UNLOADED on the Democrats.

Matt wrote about it in detail and summed it up well here:

Make no mistake about it, Graham aimed that speech at three audiences at once. President Trump was watching, and Trump responds to the fighters. Undecided Republican senators needed cover after Ford’s performance rattled the room. The American public needed someone to say out loud what everyone on the right was thinking.

It worked. Kavanaugh’s odds of confirmation had been sinking before Graham spoke. Afterward, it looked like he had a chance again, and sure enough, he ended up on the Supreme Court. Graham deserves as much credit as anyone for that outcome.

I remember exactly what it felt like watching that hearing live: Kavanaugh looked cooked, and then, in less than five minutes, Graham changed everything. He stopped Democrats from smearing a good man out of a seat he’d earned.

Whatever misgivings any Republicans may have had about Lindsey Graham prior to that vanished right then. As Matt said, it was his “greatest moment.”

I don’t expect to have to agree with any politician all of the time. It was easy to overlook any disagreements I had with Graham after that, because the wave of goodwill he was riding after the Kavanaugh confirmation was so big. I remember how spitting mad that I was back then, and the “HELL YEAH!” feeling after Graham teed off on the thoroughly evil Democrats.

Greatly to his credit, for sure and certain. Godspeed, Sen Graham.

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1

ATTAGIRL!

Yes, I know she’s always been way too liberal in her views for most conservative tastes, but I don’t care. She served her time in uniform honorably and well, and I always have liked her, even when I didn’t necessarily agree with something she was doing/saying/advocating.

Be all that as it may, here’s just another excellent reason for holding Ms Gabbard in highest regard.

 

SharrelAnne responds:

 

The obligatory “Show more” workaround for SharrelAnne’s response to Tulsi:

You answered the call to serve this country just like he did. You know what it means to put on the uniform, to stand willing to give everything in defense of this nation, and that makes this gesture mean even more to our family.

Seeing you standing there at his grave honestly brought me to tears. Thank you for honoring Alan, for saying his name, and for reminding me that there are still people in this country who have not forgotten the cost of freedom. 🇺🇸

Bless ’em both, I say. All three (3) of them, rather.

Update! As you’d no doubt expect from the man:

Lots, lots, LOTS more here, including a bit of obnoxious sniveling in the follow-ups about Hegseth and “photo ops” and such which, as ever, says way more about said sniveler than it ever could about the target(s) of their misbegotten ire. As the article’s title says, Tulsi, Hegseth, and the others have surely gone above and beyond the call today, and the CF cap is duly doffed to them.

Updated update! Repellent Nazi liar and all-round douchetool Graham Platner: the flipside of the Tulsi/Hegseth coin.

Hero Purple Heart vet who Graham Platner said ‘didn’t deserve to live’ slams Dems backing him: ‘Say that to my face’
WASHINGTON — The heroic, Purple Heart-winning Army veteran, who US Senate hopeful Graham Platner sneered in a screed on his burner Reddit account didn’t deserve to live, tore into the Democrats for continuing to back the Maine candidate.

Pfc. Ted Daniels, who captured viral helmet footage of himself moving into open terrain to draw Taliban fire away from his squad in 2012, said Democrats backing Platner owe his children an apology.

“I’m very thick-skinned, and he said it,” Daniels told The Post. “I don’t want an apology, and any apology from him [Graham] at this point would definitely not be sincere.”

True, dat. From all we’ve seen of the creepy, crawly pissant Platner to date, any apology he puked forth at any time, to anybody, about anything at all, would definitely not be sincere either. Kudos and a hearty “Right the fuck ON” to PFC Daniels for not taking any shit off the suppurating asswart.

RIP David Allan Coe

The perfect country song.

BACKSTORY: At NYC’s great old dive-bar, the Village Idiot (the original on 1st Ave, that would be, not the later incarnation over on W 14th), whenever the above tune came on the jukebox, whoever was tending bar would crank it waaaay up, every fist in the joint would be raised high in the air in gleeful defiance of…whatever, and every hoarse, cracked, alcohol-dehydrated voice would sing along with every last syllable. I tells ya, it was some of the most fun I ever did have in my life.

My old roomie Lisa bartended at the Idiot on Wednesday afternoons, and most of those days she’d call me at home around 5 or so demanding that I get down there right away because she was lonely and bored to tears by then. Afternoons tended to be kinda dull at the Idiot; the place didn’t really start to approach escape velocity until around ten or so, see.

Which request for company I was always quite happy to oblige. This reminiscence might convey some of the cheap-beer-sodden ambience of that truly magical place.

THE VILLAGE IDIOT
When I was 19 years old, I got a job working at a bar on the Lower East Side in New York City. You would’ve thought I had gotten into Harvard by how happy I was. The place, The Village Idiot, was a popular hole in the wall on 1st Avenue and 10th Street – far from Harvard.

The owner, Tommy, was a giant Irish guy with an afro. Tommy was from Queens, and his success came from the authenticity of the bar he opened. Everyone loved him and his bar. There was nothing self-conscious about The Village Idiot, or Tommy, for that matter. He was a generous, kind man who loved to party and everybody loved him for it.

So that was Tommy – he was the brand and the bar was his product. Just like any great product, it was honest. It was honest because it was exactly the kind of place Tommy would have hung out had he not opened it himself. It was not a concept, and the people that came there intuitively knew that, so they came back, and they always brought a friend.

The Idiot, as it was lovingly referred to, was a narrow, dank “box car,” but not as big. There was a juke box up front that was on from the moment we opened at 10:00 am until the time we closed – sometimes 4:00 am, sometimes 2:00 am. This was dependent on how drunk Tommy got that night. One of his “tells” was if he came in licking his lips, hide the money. If his lips were dry, you were probably going to be okay.

The juke box was stocked with a collection of country music that was vast, impressive, and perfect. “The Box” had to be full blast at all times. Tommy lived above the bar – and he would call down, “Turn the box up! I can’t hear it.” We sold Pabst Blue Ribbon in a can for a dollar, and Tommy would occasionally bite the middle out of a can of beer to thrill his patrons if things seemed a little slow.

All of the bartenders were women, and were encouraged to drink with the customers. I started making fake pitchers of kamikaze shots because I would get so drunk I couldn’t do my job. Literally – I could not function. I’d pour you a real shot and I’d drink watered down kamikaze mix. No one ever caught me or cared. We were not allowed to wear hats behind the bar because Tommy said that was bad luck.

Another thing I well remember about the Idiot was something the girls working behind the stick called “the Idiot Virgin Ceremony,” a privilege reserved for those lucky souls who were experiencing their very first trip to the seedy, smelly little joint.

See, the unsuspecting newb was required to sit on a barstool with his back to the bar, bending his torso far enough back so that his head rested atop the bar. The on-duty bartendress would then tuck a rolled-up towel around the victim’s neck below his chin to cope with any potential overspill, grab a fifth of bourbon and one of tequila, clamber up onto the bar, straddle the victim’s head, squat down, and turn up both bottles into the guy’s mouth, inevitably splashing raw booze all over said victim’s face, neck, head, and shoulders. The vic had been sternly instructed beforehand that he was NOT to raise his head off the bar, scream for rescue, or in any way refuse the “service” he was being provided as an Idiot Virgin, on pain of punishment most dire.

I learned about the IVC when my friend Joe came up to visit from North Cackalacky, and Lisa did it to him. They ended up falling in love L-U-V, whereupon she moved out of our cramped shithole on Ave B and down to NC and in with him, staying together for several years before the formerly happy couple blew apart like an A-bomb.

RIP Chuck Norris

As ever, the fine folks at Jimmy’s Seafood in Baltimore say it for me, so I don’t have to.

Heh. Y’know, I am consistently bemused by those who insist that anyone with an adequate vocabulary should never resort to blue language, lest he make himself look doltish, coarse, or low-class thereby. Au contraire, mon frère! I have always maintained, and will always maintain, that in certain circumstances a rousing cuss word is no more nor less than the mot juste, the only way to be sure the job is done RIGHT. I’m happy to see that the Jimmy’s crew gets that too.

Never alone

A truly beautiful, beautiful thing.

‘This Is America’: Unclaimed Nashville Navy Veteran Laid to Rest; the Community’s Response Was Amazing
The older you get, the more you try to prepare for the eventuality that one day, you won’t be here anymore. You get your final papers in order, preplan for services, etc., with the mindset being that you want to make sure family members are taken care of, and that they won’t have to worry about paying for any final expenses.

I don’t know what U.S. Navy veteran Lonnie Dee Wayman, 74, was thinking in his final days, but on February 21, 2026, he passed away after receiving hospice care, with no friends or family to claim his remains.

On Monday, one day before Mr. Wayman was laid to rest, a call was put out to the citizens of Nashville, inviting them to attend his service to pay their respects.

“Join us in paying respect to Lonnie D. Wayman, a U.S. Navy Veteran, who will be laid to rest with full military honors,” read a post on the Tennessee Department of Veterans Services’ Facebook page. “He was an unclaimed Veteran with no known family, and we invite the public to attend his service and show gratitude for his service to our country.”

As videos and photos show, the outpouring of support was incredible…

The Gallatin (TN) Police Department also had representatives at the service, and shared this account:

Today the Gallatin Police Department had the honor of paying our respects and representing the City of Gallatin at the funeral services for Lonnie Dee Wayman.

A Nashville native, Lonnie was born on April 8, 1952, and passed away on February 21, 2026. Sadly, Lonnie had no family to claim him, but today he was not alone. Members of our community came together to ensure he was honored with the dignity and respect he deserved.

Lonnie proudly served our nation in the United States Navy, and he was laid to rest with FULL Military honors at Middle Tennessee State Veterans Cemetery.

We are proud to stand in respect for a man who served his country. No veteran should ever be forgotten, and today we made sure Lonnie’s service and sacrifice were remembered.

Rest easy, sailor. Your watch is complete.

Amen.

Amen indeed, Miz Toldjah. Your feel-good story of the day week month year, at the very least.

Eulogy for an iconic hero

Satire worthy of the Babylon Bee. Extremely high praise, I know. Nevertheless, I shit you not, sports fans.

Rest in Pieces: Ali Khamenei, Demure Progressive Stalwart and ‘Black Lives Matter’ Ally Who Inspired Democrats and Academics, Bombed to Death at 86
Ali Khamenei, the “Black Lives Matter” advocate and long-serving supreme leader of Iran, was a guiding light to Democratic lawmakers, Ivy League professors, and other progressive ideologues who endorsed his intellectual appraisal of America’s evil and the treachery of Jews.

The ayatollah died like a dog Saturday when his “secure” compound in central Tehran was caved in by several dozen of the biggest, most beautiful bombs ever made. Khamenei’s body, so austere and worldly, torn to shreds. His mangled face adorned with one of history’s most distinguished beards. His agile mind—inquisitive and playful—literally blown amidst the ashes of scholarly texts and quirky beach reads. A name crossed off the top of Uncle Sam’s list. The emphatic ring of Mother Freedom’s bell. It must have felt as if the whole wide world was raining down. Because it was.

The Iranian people cheered a tyrant’s demise and hoped for what could be. You could tell their joy was real and not the Kamala Harris kind. The ayatollah’s left-wing comrades sobbed like sloppy seventh graders. They shook their fists at mushroom clouds and wept for what had been. The revolution. The hostages. The oil nonsense. Decades of degenerate behavior and the targeting of American soldiers. The homespun hipster in his button-down shirt (also killed). The slow death of the Iranian economy, which even the Obama nuclear shake-down couldn’t stop.

They had to hand it to the supreme leader. Fans commended him for dying honorably—on his own terms, mid-resistance, cowering in a bunker, surrounded by his closest friends and military commanders. They touted his progressive bona fides—he understood that decolonization was more than vibes and essays. In May 2020, he penned an eloquent clapback against white supremacy after the death of George Floyd. He never took Trump’s calls or laughed at a misogynistic joke, which in some ways made him even more of a winner than the USA men’s hockey team. He inspired a generation of Ivy League losers to hate Jews even more than they hate themselves.

Khamenei’s death was a crippling blow to America’s elite institutions, many of which had presumably shortlisted the supreme leader in their search for a commencement speaker. It was basically the last remaining option to forestall a shrieking walkout. Now what? The students and faculty who supported Iran’s proxy, Hamas, and its “anti-colonial insurgency,” are naturally devastated. Their terrorist allies have been crushed. They must endure the moral indignity of mourning a tyrant who murdered thousands and repressed millions. It remains to be seen which campus chapters of Feminist Fatties for Palestine will issue statements denouncing Iranian women for burning their hijabs. One can only marvel at the magnitude of self-absorption required to exist this way.

I don’t even have to tell y’uns to read the rest of it, do I? The closing ‘graphs are absolutely priceless, trust me.

Firehouse friendship

If you aren’t damp-eyed by the time you get to the picture at the end of this touching story, you ain’t anything I’ll ever recognize as human. Period fucking DOT.

CAPTSmoke 1.

CAPTSmoke 2.

Fare thee well, CAPT Smoke. May you rest forever in the embrace of God’s strong, comforting arms, and may the bereaved, grieving souls of Station 51 also find comfort for the pain of their loss. 

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Irreplaceable, indispensible, incomparable

The great Robert DuVall, thespian extraordinaire, has departed this vale of tears.

‘Godfather’ star Robert Duvall dead at 95
Robert Duvall won an Oscar for his role in the ’83 film ‘Tender Mercies’

Robert Duvall died Sunday, according to his wife, Luciana Pedraza Duvall. He was 95.

Circumstances surrounding his death were not immediately made available.

“Yesterday we said goodbye to my beloved husband, cherished friend, and one of the greatest actors of our time,” his wife shared online. “Bob passed away peacefully at home, surrounded by love and comfort.”

“To the world, he was an Academy Award-winning actor, a director, a storyteller. To me, he was simply everything. His passion for his craft was matched only by his deep love for characters, a great meal, and holding court. For each of his many roles, Bob gave everything to his characters and to the truth of the human spirit they represented.”

She continued, “In doing so, he leaves something lasting and unforgettable to us all. Thank you for the years of support you showed Bob and for giving us this time and privacy to celebrate the memories he leaves behind.”

He will surely be missed; they simply aren’t making ’em like Duvall anymore.

I’ve told the story before here, and also ran the pics if I remember right. But the sorrowful occasion calls for a rerun, I do believe.

Pictured above are Robert Duvall, captured on celluloid in mid-dip with his tango instructor. Onstage, in no particular order, are the BPs, Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings, Jessi Coulter, and June Carter. Also in attendance were Tom Cruise and Randy Quaid. Never will I forget that extraordinary night.

God rest ye, Robert Duvall. I am fortunate indeed to have met you, and am deeply grateful for your awe-inspiring gift.

RIP Sonny Jurgensen

Another great one gone.

Hall of Fame quarterback Sonny Jurgensen dies at 91
Sonny Jurgensen, the Hall of Fame quarterback whose strong arm led to passing records for the Philadelphia Eagles and Washington Commanders and affable personality made him a beloved figure, has died at the age of 91.

Jurgensen’s family announced his death in a statement released by the Commanders on Friday, saying he died of natural causes in Naples, Florida, after a brief stay in hospice care.

*Le sigh* OH, how I tire of this 190-proof horseshit. Sonny Jurgensen did not set so much as one (1) passing record for any Washington “Commanders,” nor did he lead them to any NFL championships. In fact, Sonny Jurgensen never took a single snap for the aforementioned “Commanders,” seeing as how he played his entire career quarterbacking for A) the Philadelphia Eagles, and B) the Washington fucking REDSKINS, you tres dainty “journ-o-list” suckers of all possible cock.

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