Good dog
Tactical Hermit says “Don’t Forget About the Dogs,” meaning the 9/11 rescue dogs (the last of which crossed the Rainbow Bridge ten years ago), and he could not possibly be righter.
Tactical Hermit says “Don’t Forget About the Dogs,” meaning the 9/11 rescue dogs (the last of which crossed the Rainbow Bridge ten years ago), and he could not possibly be righter.
My usual sarcastic title, for a post that’s in no wise unserious.
Never Forget 9/11
I was sitting in my home office not far from the Pentagon when it happened. The TV behind me had the sound lowered, but I suddenly became aware of a major development. I reached for the remote and cranked up the audio.A plane had struck one of the twin towers in New York. TV anchors initially speculated it must have been a small plane that had run off course, but a much larger plane struck the building, and then a second one hit the other tower. It quickly became clear America was under attack. I saw smoke rising from the Pentagon and went up on the roof to get a better look. My son, who was a firefighter, later told me he pulled bodies out of the wreckage. He still doesn’t like to talk about it, likely because of the horrible experience.
Later, United Flight 93 crashed in Shanksville, Pennsylvania, because of the bravery of Todd Beamer, who led other passengers and crew in a revolt that stopped the hijackers from possibly hitting the White House or Capitol Building.
I wrote six columns in a row and many others following that modern day of infamy. Here are some excerpts that ring true 25 years later.
Follows, a sometimes-bloodcurdling reminiscence of that awful day, from a skilled writer who experience the waking nightmare in person, as it happened. In one specific instance, his sense of the likely near-future dovetails neatly with my own.
On the day of the terrorist attacks, I wrote: “It brings into clear focus the state of war that has existed for some time between America and those who oppose our values and way of life.” I called for the expulsion of people and organizations with ties to radical terrorist groups. Unfortunately, that did not happen, and the threat from within remains and appears to be growing. There are still unanswered questions about how those attacks were allowed to happen.
It didn’t take long before the “blame America first” crowd was heard from. They are still around, as we see in the current election cycle. The Mufti of Jerusalem had recently called on Allah to destroy America, which he said “is controlled by Zionist Jews.” Nothing has changed, and antisemitism has gotten worse.
And so it has indeed, unfortunately for saner sorts. Go read the whole thing anyhow, don’t let my harrumph-harrumping put you off any. That bit above, about what he aptly terms the “‘blame American first’ crowd” I find especially poignant; it’s the very reason why, when I originally got down to registering a domain for my newfound blog-home, I chose the one I did. Cold Fury felt like the obvious choice to me for a name. Seeing the pictures of liberal New Yorkers in the aftermath of 9/11—shocked, scared shitless, waiting anxiously for the inevitable next blow to fall on them, deeply dismayed, and entirely discombobulated—suddenly flying the stars ‘n’ stripes from the open (NYC in early Sept can be downright glorious weatherwise, as the Mohammedan Day Of Infamy had been) street-facing windows of their cramped apartments.
Lower est Sida shitlibs, too, seemed to be atypically unperturbed by the USAF/National Guard F15s and 16s overhead, flying CAP after the open barn door had been closed too late; only a few days ago, the sight of jet fighters circling overhead would have stirred them to bluster angrily against “Fascist intimidation”, “military thugs in their precious little Flying Death Machines,” and/or some other such brattish gasbaggery, along the way condemning the uncnsconable waste of expensive fossil fuel, needlessly polluting that good, clean NYC air with their toxic emissions. CONTRAILS, JUST LOOK! CONTRAAAIIIILS!!!
But NOOOOO; instead, they were gassing endlessly on about their newfound love for our/their country and all its works, with Jurassic Media helpfully bloviating, in their habitual forelock-tugging lockstep with Official Authority, about a New Era of American unity, patriotism, real Progress, and amicable brotherhood—I knew perfectly well, as every RightWingNaziDeathBeast© should have, that it was all arrant bollocks, insubstantial, featherweight puffery that would blow away again on the first light breeze.
Yeppers, it was clear to me that it would be no time at all before the Shitheel Left’s visceral, intractable loathing for America, Americans, American ideals and morals, and basically just any and everything you can think of even marginally associated with America would be oozing back to the surface again right away, as pus from an infected wound will do.
And boy oh boy, did I ever call THAT one right! Can’t really remember any exact dates off the top of my head, but it was no more than about three-four days (there was dust and filth, composed mostly of crushed sheetrock, ashes of bruned-up office supplies, curtains, and miscellaneous furnshings, as well as of course several thousand cremated bodies) coating Downtown: cars, streets, sidewalks, awnings, tree limbs, everything. A choking, foul-smelling smoke was still wafing up off the rubble piles; the smell was inescapable, my old among others of my NYC peeps complained about it continually) when I first saw a report on Teewee about some Village bitchtard female, late 30s-early 40s, not too bad-looking for her age, lifestyle, and ideology, really. who had taped up a homemade sign in her front window saying that, basically, America had it coming. In the accompanying interview with this slattern, she said the same an∂ even worse, musing moronically about why those poor, mistreated Arabs, having been run over, abused, and heartlessly exploited by us for so long, .hadn’t done something like this long ago.
And that’s when I knew what I had been fretting about was already becoming ugly reality: the shitlib Left entire would soon be joining this spoiled-rotten dullard in her shallow, feckless denunciation of the very system to which she owed her misspent existence. That’s when I first felt that strong, icy, steely gust of Cold Fury blasting through my body and my brain at Gale force 46.
Blame America for these unwarranted, ruinous assaults against it? SRSLY?!? Of course, according to these Sooperdoopergenii, the TRUE cause of 9/11 was long, untold years of American imperialism and expansionism, unearned wealth and ill-gotten prosperity, American cruelty, rapaciousness, and soulless exploitation of poorer and weaker nations, you see.
As if the complex history of 250 years of international relations and interaction between national governmental entities could be boiled down to a forlorn, trite, 3rd-grade-level analogy featuring a schoolyard bully ruthlessly beating up on younger, smaller, weaker kids and shaking them down for their lunch money. Leftwits will always identify most strongly with the helplessness of those weaker kids, casting in the “bully” role those savage, knuckledragging Others who aren’t quite so close as they to being living, breathing incarnations of Darwin’s idea of a soon-to-be extinct species from his Unfit class.
And they’re still at it today; all you have to do is take a casual gander, if you can stomach it, at the candidates running for Congress in places like Michigan, Minnesota, Wisconsin, and of course California and New York.Says all you’ll ever need to know about who actually remembers what around here.
Christ on a crutch, dude, New York Fucking City—ie, the place where GROUND ZERO is and always will be sitting, for an ever-dwindling few of us anyway—has gone and gotten itself a jihad-loving, fellow-terrorist-appointing, Jew-hating Commie MAYOR now, Gawd help us.
Cold Fury? Yeah, I should think so, pal. Sorry, not sorry. Don’t anyone get too het up when my bitterness over shitlib irreverence for 9/11, America, and all they represent gets expressed in a post or sarcastic post title here. I’m venting my spleen, taking out my frustration with the gormless, self-serving forgetfulness of those who dare to make ugly cracks about how we “deserved” 9/11, laugh at our ever-present grief for those poor, blameless sods who were murdered—wantonly slaughtered by Moslem animals that terrible morning, as if they were no more than livestock—and the dismal tide of rank sewage of every imaginable variety, all puked forth from the same old shitlib mouths.
Oh, how well I remember the year I posted an image of an upside-down American flag as the 9/11 masthead image—MAN, did I get some hate-email for that one! Knowing that an upside-down flag has been recognized as a distress signal by mariners since about, ohh, forever, the notion that this country was definitely in distress and needed help immediately was just the thing for 9/11, or so I thought.
Au contraire, mon frere! Contraire to the friggin MAX, I tells y’uns. Many of you felt I was being flippant, (mis)appropriating Old Glory without showing the respect, the deference and seriousness I should’ve, and did you fine folks ever let me know about it. I’ve received my fair share hate-emails over the years, buI can’t recall ever receiving so many of them in such a short time, no seeing this much passion, pain, and just plain old acrimony being expounded over some stupid something I did or said on this silly little ol’ blog.
Trust me, people, you will NOT be seeing any more upside-down US flags around these parts again. Not unless I’m writing the post from a seat on the deck of a foundering ketch, you won’t. And that, my friends, is a one-hunnert-an-ten percent Cold Fury Guar-on-TEE. As Ringo always says: Period fucking DOT.
STANDARD IRRITATING DIGRESSION: Nowadays, running across the words “cold fury” in some novel or other I’m reading always brings a smile to my craggy, withered old face. Makes me want to write to the author and insist that the “C” and “F” therein should always be in upper-case, according to the universally-acknowledged standards of modern English-language grammar. I have actually sat down and composed such a missive a time or two, always with as much good humor and lightness of heart as this half-mad old dog can scrape up. Never have actually hit “Send,” I do confess. Not yet, at any rate.
Anyhoo: if the Left’s vomitous, abominable tsunami of provocation, credible threats of violence, grievous bodilfy harm, and outright murder, and just general abuse both rhetorical and physical—intolerable speech and acts which are not just ongoing but actually getting worse and worse, all to date unanswered by those who are pleased to think of themselves as “better men” than the ones presently kicking their asses up between their shoulder blades, all the while sermonizing. to their like-minded confreres in favor of an impassive, mild, restrained, supine response, if in fact a response absolutely MUST be made—doesn’t make you mad enough to want to disassemble The Enemies, Domestic™ with your bare fucking hands (special tools neither needed nor desired)—then I can think of nothing whatsoever to say to you. It’s enough to make any half-decent sort literally sick to his/her/its pyloric sphincter. To my way of thinking, Cold Fury© is the only rational response to it that doesn’t of necessity introduce edged, projectile, explosive, eletroshock, nor bludgeon-type weapons into the imbroglio.
Not YET, at any rate.
After 9/11/01, Business As Usual ought to’ve been over and done with, gone for good, never to be missed or lamented. A good many of the more-Pollyanna-ishly hopeful among us seriously imagined that the terrorist attacks and the All Americans Togther feel-good chorus in their aftermath woud bring about the dawning of a New Era, wasting many column inches/pixels heralding the coming of a more forthright, honest, brave, and clear-eyed Golden Age.
Alas, it was no such thing, as a fair few of us already knew. The Old Folly was only sleeping, not dead, and almost immediately the Ghastly Left’s ragtag assemblage of spirit-thingies wholly dedicated to blanket opposition against tangible, visible reality; basic human decency; humility; common sense; traditional values; freedom; and righteousness arose from their dank, lonely, foul-smelling crypts one by one until all were present and accounted for. The demonic spectral entities had been recalled to Earth, out of the most noxiously-reeking precincts of Gehenna itself, by the Leftard leadership-coven incantating away in their private Las Vegas Shabbat Suie—a ghostly army assembled, organized, and ready to once again set upon the sensible, upright, clean-living Americans their dimbulb Leftist masters hate so very desperately after a brief interlude off pretending to be all about unity, patriotism, and the American way after seeing a huge majority of NormalAmericans all fired up to bark back and wreak roper vengeance upon their longtime tormenters of the Traitor Left.
Plus, Dolly died, and that grievous loss didn’t brighten anybody’s mood much, I shouldn’t think.
Okay, okay, I admit I mighta got a little bit fanciful there, took the imagining-and-supposing and psycho-delicized ideation just a leetle too far, as now and again I can be prone to do. On the other hand, though, you all know as well as i do that if those Hateful Leftists WERE capable of summoning an army of Hell’s Own SpecWar fiends. ghouls, and monsters to wage all-out war against us Just Leave Us Alone, PLEASE™ Real Americans, they wouldn’t waste a minute thinking it over, they’d just do it, as a certain shambolic, once-beloved, successful, and financially solvent sneaker company used to say back before they destroyed themselves via going full-on Wokester.
Learned, and perhaps more importantly, NOT learned.
What We Never Learned From 9/11
First we learned to love our killers. Then we learned to hate ourselves.After 19 Muslim terrorists killed nearly 3,000 people in the United States, the most sensible thing would have been to close the borders and keep out the people most likely to carry out attacks.
25 years later and with hundreds more dead and wounded in Islamic terrorist attacks since then, we’ve done the exact opposite and allowed the Muslim population to more than double from 1.8 million to 4.5 million. In New York, the epicenter of the attacks, the insurgent Muslim population shot up from 400,000 to over 700,000 so that New York City is now run by an Islamist politician.
Before 9/11, there had been a handful of Islamic terrorist attacks on American soil. This year alone there were three terror attacks and plots in New York and the summer isn’t even over yet. Multiple mosques in New York City openly preach hatred and terrorism in videos posted to social media and nothing is done since Zohran Mamdani has visited some of those mosques.
Mamdani appointed a lawyer for the 20th 9/11 hijacker who had argued that the terrorists were not driven by evil and that “the legacy of 9/11 ought to be recounted primarily through the stories of Muslims” as New York City’s Chief Counsel. More of the Muslim candidates running for office, like Mamdani, or Abdul El-Sayed in Michigan, and Dariazilia Avila Chevalier in New York City “I just wiped my hand on the American flag”, express hostility and contempt towards America.
The political ascension of Islamists who openly despise us reflects our hatred for ourselves.
It’s our peerless brother in arms Dan Greenfield, so naturally you’re gonna want to read it all. And yes, he’s one of ***(((Dem JoJooJooJOOOOOOOZ!!))))***, and as y’all know I don’t give a flying fuck.
For the droolcase contingent: No, 911, was NOT an “inside job,” some kind of typically nebulous, nefarious ***(((Jew)))*** plot pulled off by our own government in collusion with the Evil Empire which controls absolutely the entire fucking universe: Israel (SHRIIIEEEEK!!!). The way things are going, looks like I’m gonna need to repost David Wong’s (nom de pen for Jason Pardin, it turns out) brilliant, often funny, completely thoroughgoing takedown of stupid-ass 911 conspiracy theorizing every damned year on this date, until it finally soaks into some of the thicker skulls out there.
To wit:
But here’s the thing. The 9/11 “Truth” guys, the Loose Changers and all the many websites, they don’t just think government is corrupt. They think everybody, and I mean everybody, is either evil on a demonic scale, or a mindless sheep.
For instance, how much money would it take to get you to kill 3,000 random, innocent Americans? Or, say you stumbled upon somebody else’s plan to kill 3,000 innocent Americans. How much would it take to get you to stay silent afterward?
A hundred dollars? Two hundred? Two hundred fifty?
Well if the conspiracy guys are right, there are people reading this right now who took that deal. No kidding.
Here’s why. The entire 9/11 “Truth” movement rests on the idea that the World Trade Center towers were rigged with explosives, a “Controlled Demolition” like you see with old buildings. That’s the whole thing. They say the buildings couldn’t have come down otherwise.
Forget the fact that no experts on the subject agree with them. That’s not the point right now. We’re just trying to get inside these guys’ heads.
Now, maybe you could keep the plan itself a secret. A few dozen murderous black ops guys, demolitions experts with a grudge against the USA, maybe they’ve been brainwashed. Who knows. Maybe it could be done. People point out that the Manhattan Project to build the atomic bomb was kept a secret, so why not this?
But the cover-up. Holy shit, guys. Covering this thing up after the fact would be like trying to keep the atomic bomb a secret after Hiroshima. Just wait ’till you hear this.
Yes indeedy. As most of you will well know by now, this long piece stomps the 9/11 Truther crowd flat, right down to the last butt-nugget of wild-eyed batshit lunacy. From the freshly updated (circa 2025) intro to Pop Mech’s likewise-thoroughgoing slicing and dicing of the preposterous Truther nonsense:
More than 20 years later, 9/11 conspiracy theories linger on. In the years following the report of this publication, truthers would launch of variety of attacks on Popular Mechanics, accusing the magazine of being a tool of the federal government and drawing tinfoil-hat diagrams to tie Popular Mechanics to the Bush Administration and the supposed big conspiracy. If all this nonsense accomplished anything, it was to presage our current era of “alternative facts” and attacking the messenger whenever the message clashes with one’s predetermined beliefs.
Yes indeedy again. But hey, whatcha gonna do with these retarded douchetools, right?
Update! No shit, Dick Tracy, where’s the fuckin’ squad car?
Texas Board of Education approves controversial new high school curriculum tying ‘radical Islam’ to 9/11 attacks
The Texas Board of Education gave final approval to changes to the state’s high school social studies curriculum, a controversial move that will impact how students are taught about Islam and Christianity.The amended social studies curriculum, which covers US history, government and world geography, comes after dozens of people gave public testimony, with most expressing their opposition to the finalized version.
The board approved language asserting that “radical Islam” motivated the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks rather than taking a more narrow focus on the terrorist groups involved in the attack.
Ooooooweee, “radical Islam”?!? For all me, you Post Toasties™ can just drop the “radical” from that formulation, for accuracy.
The material also requires students to study early Islam through Prophet Muhammad’s “brutal military campaigns against Jewish and Christian tribes,” the “normalization of slavery” and the taking of female captives as “harem slaves.”
All of which happens to be perfectly, indubitably true, from the word “brutal” to the word “slaves,” no need for the sneer-quotes, thenksveddymuch.
Several Democratic State Board of Education members pushed back against the wording, but the Republican-majority board still approved that section and the other changes on Friday.
Muslim groups and students, as well as multiple curriculum experts, also spoke out against the new changes.
“I feel attacked, as if my religion doesn’t belong,” Habiiba Quresh, a 15-year-old Muslim student, told the board, according to The Texas Tribune. “I shouldn’t have to defend my religion in the middle of history class because of one sentence someone on this board wrote.”
Your sham “religion” doesn’t belong, asswipe, seeing as how the central tenets of your pseudo-faith stand in direct, explicit contradiction of the Founding principles of ordered liberty, individual self-determination, and total religious freedom. Go back to where you came from, Habibbity-bob. If you feel “attacked” and like your religion doesn’t belong, that simply tells us that your teachers are doing their job properly, and should be commended for their excellent work.
Trust me, I know, it’s fuggin’ Miiley Effing Cyrus (!!!), of all fuggin’ people. But seriously, she flat tears this one up, no two ways about it.
What can I say, but…WOW. The girl’s got some mad skillz, and I don’t mind admitting it. Props to CBD for the steer.
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.
Remembering the late, great Dolly, who brought joy, comfort and inspiration to so many – including the millions of children given free books through her Imagination Library. We will always ❤️ you. pic.twitter.com/wdKHKGALlH
— The Royal Family (@RoyalFamily)
And another, via Stephen.
Dolly Parton approval ratings by state pic.twitter.com/lsalw34EuJ
— Terrible Maps (@TerribleMaps)
Perfectly accurate, I’d imagine.
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.
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?
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.
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.
It was an honor to visit your husband’s grave today on your behalf, and to pay my respects. It was wonderful to see the beautiful flowers representing many others who did the same. Our nation owes a debt of gratitude to those who made the ultimate sacrifice, and to the loved ones… pic.twitter.com/GWx11xlecF
— Tulsi Gabbard 🌺 (@TulsiGabbard)
SharrelAnne responds:
Tulsi, thank you. Not just for taking the time to visit Alan today, but for understanding the weight of that sacrifice in a way few people ever truly will.
You answered the call to serve this country just like he did. You know what it means to put on the uniform, to stand…
— SharrellAnne (@SharrellAnne2)
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:
. @SecWar @PeteHegseth and family honored Staff Sgt. James M. Malachowski, Staff Sgt. Alan W. Shaw and other warfighters in section 60 @ArlingtonNatl this afternoon. pic.twitter.com/Xaw9LNs8Rv
— Tami Radabaugh (@TRadabaughDOW)
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.
Nothing whatsoever to add.

‘Nuff said.
Re the death earlier this week of David Allan Coe, a Fakeberg friend of mine posted this and I just had to swipe it.

As someone else said in the comments over at FB, you see this photo and you just KNOW some crazy shit’s getting ready to start. Heh. Indeed.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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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
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