True Hollywood stories

Sex, drugs, and rock and roll during the making of the Blues Brothers movie. Even more great behind-the-scenes tales than is usual in the movie biz, which is justly famous for them, with this long 2013 article, to wit:

One night at three, while filming on a deserted lot in Harvey, Illinois, Belushi disappears. He does this sometimes. On a hunch, Aykroyd follows a grassy path until he spies a house with a light on.

“Uh, we’re shooting a film over here,” Aykroyd tells the homeowner. “We’re looking for one of our actors.”

“Oh, you mean Belushi?” the man replies. “He came in here an hour ago and raided my fridge. He’s asleep on my couch.”

Only Belushi could pull this off. “America’s Guest,” Aykroyd calls him.

“John,” Aykroyd says, awakening Belushi, “we have to go back to work.”

Belushi nods and rises. They walk back to the set as if nothing happened.

Well, in Belushi World, nothing much had. Another:

Filming finishes in Los Angeles, in and around the Universal lot, where Aykroyd again takes up residence. John and Judy rent a house in Coldwater Canyon. “By the time we got to Los Angeles,” Aykroyd says, “[the shoot] was a well-oiled machine.”

By comparison, anyway. Production goes more or less on schedule, and Los Angeles injects its energy: parties at the Playboy Mansion, nights with De Niro and Nicholson.

Belushi summons periods of sobriety. By now he has met Smokey Wendell, a kind of bodyguard/anti-drug enforcer for Joe Walsh, a guitarist for the Eagles. “If I don’t do something now,” Belushi tells Wendell, “I’m going to be dead in a year or two.”

Belushi is on his best behavior while in the presence of the movie’s other musical stars: Ray Charles and Aretha Franklin, James Brown and Cab Calloway. They, too, are in fine form. Even Charles, the crankiest of the bunch, laughs and laughs, usually while retelling the same dirty joke. The Blues Brothers presents a real opportunity for all of them, since all but Charles are in commercial ruts.

Not that this changes any of them. Marini, one of the horn players, spots Franklin taking a cigarette break. He approaches sheepishly, saying, “I just want to tell you how much I enjoy your work.” Franklin turns, glancing at the number on Marini’s football jersey. “Sixty-nine, huh?” she says, and turns away.

One day Aykroyd and Belushi raid the wardrobe department. Tanen happens to be in Wasserman’s office when Wasserman takes a call notifying him that two of Universal’s biggest stars, dressed as Nazi SS officers, have driven off the lot and onto the freeway. Tanen finds this hilarious. Wasserman does not.

Behind the scenes, it’s a different story. Daniel and Weiss are spent. And now they’re confronting the movie’s climactic concert scene. The finale requires Belushi and Aykroyd to do cartwheels, dance steps—the whole deal. It requires hundreds of extras. It requires the Hollywood Palladium.

Daniel gets a call from Weiss. “You better get down here,” Weiss says. When Daniel arrives, Weiss explains. A kid had ridden past Belushi on a skateboard. Belushi asked to ride the board. Belushi fell off the board.

Daniel finds the star clutching his knee and in serious pain. “This was bad,” Daniel recalls. “We had to deal with it in the most effective and emergency-like way. And there was one person who was wired into the Los Angeles medical community better than anyone else.” Wasserman. “I was one of the last people he wanted to hear from,” Daniel says. “The only thing he wanted to hear from me was ‘We’re done.’ ”

Wasserman calls the top orthopedist in town. “It’s Thanksgiving weekend,” the doctor points out. “I’m on my way to Palm Springs.”

“Not yet,” Wasserman replies.

Thirty minutes later, the orthopedist wraps and injects Belushi, who then grits his way through the finale.

End of story.

Or not.

It’s not; still tons more fascinating, entertaining inside dope left here, of which you should read the all.

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Credit where due

Ken Layne always runs such great memes, I must say; in fact, I’ve swiped a good many of the tremendous backlog currently clogging my hard drive from his excellent establishment, and am grateful indeed for the opportunity. Just now I glommed a particularly good ‘un I’m gonna to dedicate to responsible adult and placental mammal Diogenes Sarcastica, who I am pleased and privileged to consider a blog-pal, just because I’m confident she’ll get a chuckle out of it when it runs here tomorrow evening.

As I like to tell myself I am, Miz DS is a weirdo in all the very best ways, which is why I figger she’ll pick up on it. No, I ain’t gonna say which meme it is, that would spoil the whole thing for everybody. Y’all will just have to figure that out for yourselves.

Happy belated birthday to Pedo Peter!

Now kindly drop dead already, you addle-pated old crook.

Joe Biden’s 81st Birthday Cake Was the Perfect Metaphor for Our Country
Did you know that it was Joe Biden’s 81st birthday on Monday? Because it was Joe Biden’s 81st birthday on Monday. He turned 81 years old—a fairly common occurrence for someone who was born 81 years ago.

Did I mention he turned 81 years old? Because he did, in fact, turn 81 years old. Of course, as PJ Media previously reported, the White House didn’t exactly want to call attention to the fact that Joe Biden is 81 years old, because Americans aren’t exactly comfortable with his advanced age and want him to call it quits and let someone else seek the Democratic nomination. As such, none of the social media accounts connected to the White House or Joe Biden mentioned his 81st birthday on Monday until the evening, when fewer people are paying attention. If the evening news was hoping for an 81st birthday photo op to report on, they didn’t get it in time.

And boy, what a mistake that was.

But what really got me about the photo was how familiar the cake was. Did you notice? It wasn’t just that the 81 candles looked like they were going to burn down the White House, but there was an undeniable resemblance between the cake and something that makes it the perfect metaphor for our country:


As soon as I made this connection, I couldn’t unsee it. Joe Biden’s birthday cake resembled a dumpster fire, and how perfect is that for Joe Biden, considering what he’s done to this country in just a few short years? Of course, there are a variety of fire metaphors that could work, but I think the dumpster fire is the most spot-on. I’m not sure who thought putting 81 candles on such a small cake was a great idea, but I’d be willing to bet there was some debate over whether a raging inferno was politically safer than a cake with two candles reading “81.” In the end, they clearly figured the cake requiring a fire extinguisher was the way to go, which tells you exactly how much the White House public relations team understands that Joe Biden’s advanced age is a problem. I suspect they figured it was literally worth the risk of setting the White House ablaze rather than publishing a photo with Biden in front of a cake with candles reading “81.”

Heh. There’s another humorous angle to the photo which Matt doesn’t touch on here—apart from the obvious Reichstag fire one, I mean—but Steve Miller helpfully did.


Thanks to Ed for the steer to that last.

Update! Jacked from WRSA. Thanks!

AmericanTurkey

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Truth: outing

Slowly but surely, as it will do.

MAGA Calls for J6 Committee to Be Jailed After Capitol Building Tapes Reveal ‘Insurrection’ Was Really an Inside Job!

  • Jan. 6 tapes released by House Speaker Mike Johnson prove Capitol breach was government entrapment operation facilitated by police — not an insurrection.
  • Republican lawmakers demand investigations into Democrat J6 committee.

Conservatives on social media are calling for investigations into the January 6 Committee in light of exonerating evidence showing the Capitol breach was a setup facilitated by police.

Unedited footage released Friday by House Speaker Mike Johnson is devastating to the Jan. 6 Committee narrative that a violent insurrection unfolded at the US Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021.

Sen. Mike Lee (R-Utah) and Rep. Troy Nehls (R-Texas) likewise called on House Republicans to investigate the Jan. 6 Committee.

“Why didn’t Liz Cheney and Adam Kizinger ever refer to any of these tapes? Maybe they never looked for them. Maybe they never even questioned their own narrative. Maybe they were just too busy selectively leaking the text messages of Republicans they wanted to defeat,” Lee wrote Saturday on X.

Or maybe they were, y’know, complicit. Included is a whole slew of videos, the pick of my personal litter being this one:


Prison, my chapped ass. What they ought to be is stood up against the nearest wall and fucking shot. No blindfold, no last cigarette, no nothin’. Them, along with one whole helluva lot of others, too.

“Investigation”? By the Vichy GOPers? Yeah, that should take care of it. PROBLEM SOLVED, ISSUE ADDRESSED, THE SYSTEM WORKS! Everybody can just go on back to sleep now, mmkay? And just never you mind about the scores of J6 “insurrectionists” still languishing in the FederalGovCo Goo(g)lag without benefit of attorney, kangaroo-court trial, or even charges—as well as the ongoing Stasi manhunt for the rest of those traitorous ÜberUltraMegaMAGA thugs who perpetrated a violent, deadly assault against the Holy Citadel of Our Sacred Democracy™ that dark day.

Update! Francis takes issue with the latest utterance of The Biggest Lie Of All Time.

It pays to stay abreast of developments in deceit. Those who fail to do so might not recognize occasions when someone is striving to mislead them. That can lead to unpleasantness.

One that is seldom appreciated for its ironic beauty recently poked its head above the high-slime line:

Late Wednesday, the Capitol Police confronted violent protesters outside the DNC’s HQ in Washington, D.C. The situation was particularly tense because top members of the Democratic Party, some of whom receive a 24-hour security detail from the Capitol Police, were inside the building at the time. Multiple police officers were injured in the violence, which the Capitol Police confirmed was violent and more resembled a riot.

“That is quite an image. We haven’t seen an image like that since January 6,” [CNN anchor Dana] Bash said of images from the violence plastered on the screen.

Let’s pause here for a moment. A couple of years ago, Mainstream Media news figures compared the events in Washington D.C. on January 6, 2021 to recognized horrors such as those in Manhattan on September 11, 2001. They employed the latter atrocity as a standard: something by which to measure other things. That’s what standards are.

Above, nearly three years since the January 6 disturbance at the Capitol Building, Dana Bash uses that event as a standard by comparing the riot outside DNC headquarters to it. This implies that the January 6 disorder, which was far milder than the press strove to portray it, has become a measuring stick for outbreaks of violent disorder.

However, Bash appears to have realized immediately that she’d “overplayed her hand:” that is, that the events of January 6, 2021 were not usable as a standard for atrocities…or at least not yet:

Reacting to the incident on CNN, network anchor Dana Bash compared scenes from the violence to Jan. 6 — before immediately trying to retract the comparison.

“Totally different topic, totally different kind of people. I mean, I don’t want to at all compare the sort of substance of it,” Bash backtracked, “but the idea that there was violence and that there were Capitol Police officers actually hurt there.”

Just a moleskin-gloved minute there, Colonel: Were any Capitol Police injured on January 6, 2021? There were no reports thereof, even though those selfsame police killed at least two of the protestors. But perhaps I should stick to the main point.

The “promotion” of the scandalously slandered January 6 protest into a standard for the measurement of “other atrocities” might succeed among hard-left-wingers and the most credulous. But owing to the slow leakage of real-time videos from the Capitol protest, the percentage of Americans who are aware of the realities has grown steadily. Perhaps Bash realized that, though not quite in time to avert the comparison.

Quite a rare thing in a way, this sudden spontaneous outburst of candor revealing her considered opinions on the matter, however moronically at variance with observable reality they are; distorting or concealing them is the usual practice of such “people.” Her impromptu scrambling to cover for the invidious comparison betwixt the J6 protests and bona fide destruction and violence committed by shitlib rioters might bespeak a shifting of the prevailing political winds, one must hope.

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Holy Hell – Girls in Paris

Muslims everywhere are quaking.
Girls. French girls. I do love them.

Via: Whatfinger News

UPDATE: As Skeptic point out in the comments, a “context” comment has been added – “The video is a choreographed stunt featuring professional trainees at the Campus Univers Cascades, a stunt training centre in France.”

Appears to be accurate.

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Come again, now?

Ahh, whatever would we do without the Old Grey Whore of 42nd Street, the execrable NYT, to tell us all what our opinion should be?

The Media Aren’t Quite Hackish Enough For The Biden White House
They’re working on it.

When will The New York Times finally stop pulling punches and go after Donald Trump?

That’s the question Joe Biden’s campaign asked the media this week. “For the political press corp (sic) —especially our friends at the Gray Lady,” pleaded the White House, “it’s time to meet the moment and responsibly inform the electorate of what their lives might look like if the leading GOP candidate for president is allowed back in the WH.”

I think I can answer that one easily enough:

BidenVsMAGA

Any questions, you evil fucking retards?

The New York Times is, indeed, a friend. It “meets the moment” all the time. So, no, Biden isn’t working the refs here. He’s demanding obedience. And the fact that the White House can brazenly petition a supposedly free press to join his campaign effort tells us a lot about how little the contemporary Democrat cares for a free press.

BZZZZT! Wrong, David; actually, they care a great deal about a “free press”—they hate the very idea of such a thing, and are neither afraid nor ashamed to do everything within their not-inconsiderable power to see that one never, ever comes into existence in Amerika v2.0.

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A little good news

Contra the self-obsessed blubbing of shitlib idiot and sportsball also-ran Megan Rapinoe, God is real, and He’s laughing His almighty ass off.

Guest Column: God Here. Megan Rapinoe’s Career-Ending Injury Is Proof That I’m Real.
I thought it would be hilarious, and it was.

KINGDOM OF HEAVEN—Hey, folks. God here. I’m writing in response to recent comments from Megan Rapinoe, a human female best known for playing the so-called sport of soccer, or “Satan’s Folly” as we call it up here.

Rapinoe invoked my name on Saturday after injuring her Achilles tendon in the opening minutes of the National Women’s Soccer League Championship. It was the final game of her professional career.

“I’m not a religious person or anything and if there was a God, like, this is proof that there isn’t,” Rapinoe told the demonic cretins you call journalists during the post-game press conference. “This is f—ed up. It’s just f—ed up. Six minutes in and I eat my Achilles.”

LOL!

I knew this would happen, obviously, but that doesn’t make it any less hilarious. The last game of Rapinoe’s career—the league championship, no less—and she injures herself immediately then has to watch her team lose from the sidelines. I’m still laughing about it.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. Yes, I technically “created” Rapinoe and “love” her the same as all my “children,” even the ones who deny my existence. Even the ones who worship Satan and play soccer, to the extent there is a difference.

Nevertheless, I think we can all agree Megan Rapinoe is an obnoxious shrew who had it coming. Right? I’m willing to forgive almost anything, but one thing I simply can’t abide is disrespect for my country, the United States of America. Just ask Gabe Kapler or Colin Kaepernick.

Did I take it too far? Maybe. When the U.S. women’s soccer team protested the National Anthem during the World Cup earlier this year, I made sure they were humiliated by Sweden, an inferior country. I engineered it so Rapinoe, playing in her final World Cup, would contribute to the loss by whiffing a penalty kick, one of the easiest shots ever invented in the history of sports.

“That’s like a sick joke,” Rapinoe said after the crushing defeat. It sure was. “Sick” as in awesome.

Heh. Seconded from here below, dearest Lord. Many humble thanks for checking in and keeping Your obedient, devoted children hip to the Heavenly haps like this.

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FINALLY!

The Nazis take London.

80 Years After Hitler Failed, Nazis Finally Seize London
LONDON — Eighty years after Hitler’s failure, the Nazis have at last seized London.

“Hitler’s dream has finally come true,” said John MacDonald, watching as Picadilly was overrun with Nazis. “You just know that somewhere, Hitler is looking on today and smiling.”

As chants of “Death To Jews” and “Final Solution” rang through the London air, longtime Nazi leader Josef Schmidt was overwhelmed with joy. “After so many decades of being an outcast here in Britain, to now watch Nazis march through the heart of London yelling ‘Gas the Jews’ – well, it brings a tear to your eye,” said Mr. Schmidt. “I’ve had to hide my swastika flag for years, but no more! We’re going out for a triumphant walk right by Buckingham Palace.”

At publishing time, the London mayor was warning the Jewish community to refrain from engaging in hateful Naziphobia.

As of presstime, probably but not necessarily owing to his having died years ago, Brit fascist irritant Oswald Mosley was unavailable for comment. And, just to make it more difficult than it already was to discern whether the Bee is in fact satire, there’s this…

Newsom Deploys Giant Can Of Febreze Over San Francisco To Mask Poo Smell
“Come on, people! We’ve got to hide the aroma of dookie,” Newsom was heard shouting at city workers. “It’s fine for the city to reek of excrement under normal circumstances when it’s only Americans walking around trying to live their lives, but when a communist authoritarian comes to town, we don’t want him stepping off his plane and being greeted with a strong whiff of caca.”

The Chinese president was scheduled to arrive in the Golden Gate City today ahead of next week’s important U.S.-China summit with President Joe Biden. With much riding on the meeting of two of the world’s superpowers, Newsom wanted steps taken to address the city’s problems with cleanliness and its homeless population. “Governor Newsom wanted us to come up with a final solution to the homeless problem,” said one San Francisco official who asked to remain anonymous. “With that in mind, we’ve started rounding up all the homeless people so they can be concentrated in specially designated camps. We even transported them with their piles of poop so they will still feel at home.”

At publishing time, the giant can of Febreze was being positioned to begin spraying a wide radius across the city, with many residents secretly hoping the city’s areas densely populated with deodorant-resistant hobos would take a heavy dousing.

Parody? Reality? Is there really any difference anymore?

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Happy Memorial Day!

As ever, Pedo Pete is a bit confused.

Biden suffers ANOTHER embarrassing gaffe as he stumbles through Veterans Day service and appears to get lost while laying a wreath

  • Biden appeared confused at Arlington National Ceremony to mark Veterans Day
  • The president, 80, needed stage directions after laying a ceremonial wreath
  • In his remarks, Biden said ‘war and conflict’ are ‘part of the American story’

Biden was joined at Arlington National Cemetary by Harris, First Lady Jill Biden and Second Gentleman Doug Emhoff to celebrate the armed services.

Speaking before members of the Armed Forces and Gold Star families, Biden began: ‘Here in Arlington lie heroes who gave what President Lincoln called ‘the last full measure of devotion.’

‘They did not only die at Gettysburg or in Flanders Field on the beaches of Normandy, but in the mountains of Afghanistan, the deserts of Iraq in the last 20 years.

‘Hundreds of graves are here from recent conflicts. Hundreds of patriots gave their all, each of them leaving behind a family who live with their pain and their absence every single day.’

He added that veterans are the ‘steel spine of this nation’, and recounted famous battles that saw soldiers ‘linked in a chain of honor that stretches back to our founding days.’

‘This Memorial Day, we honor their legacy and their sacrifice, duty, honor to their country.’

Saturday’s service was the 70th annual National Veterans Day Observance at Arlington, and followed a private reception in the White House East Room for veterans and military officials.

What a sad, sorry joke this senile old kleptocrat is, was, and shall remain.

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BLINDSIDED!

Man bites dog.

BLM Leader Stumps for Trump Because He Is the ‘Best Candidate We Have’

*Shakes head dazedly, rubs forehead in puzzlement, gulps audibly several times* Wait….whut…whut…WHAT THE ACTUAL FUUU…

The co-founder and former Senior Director of the Rhode Island chapter of BLM, Mark Fisher, is now on tour stumping for Donald Trump and advocating for the rights of the Jan. 6 protestors.

In an interview with political analyst Kim Iverson earlier this week, Fisher called the policies of Democrats anti-capitalist and disastrous for blacks. 

“We want to create wealth. We want to gain wealth, leave something for our children, you know.” Fisher also spoke out against abortion and liberal policies that promote it, saying that the act “goes against the laws of nature” and the “laws of procreation.”

Then, taking aim at the Democrats and whether or not they benefit the black community, he added, “I’m not here to judge anybody, or to hate on anybody. I’m just telling you what’s beneficial and what’s not for my community, and the Democratic Party is not.”

Fisher believes that black Americans have “been mental slaves” who have historically pledged universal loyalty to the Democratic Party. However, that party has not delivered results or tangible improvements in return.

He lamented that “we’ve been used and abused for so long by that party. They don’t value our vote. Their policies are basically racist policies, and I believe it’s a racist party that strikes at the heart of the black family and the nuclear family in general.”

Fisher’s comments come as the Biden campaign and Democrats in general face a crisis with black voters who are leaving the radical left in droves as illegals continue to flood urban areas. Inflation is unchecked and many in the black community feel abandoned and ignored by their representatives.

Turning his attention to Trump, Fisher had this to say:

“Well, you know, I like Trump, and I think right now who we have sitting in the Oval Office is just a deep disappointment, you know? I deeply have disdain for him, and I really dislike the Vice President as well.”

He then added, “And I believe Donald Trump, he’s the opposite. He’s gonna tell you how it is. He’s gonna give it to you straight. He’s not gonna be a hypocrite and stab you in the back like the Democratic Party loves to do.”

Fisher has also been outspoken in his defense of those being held for the events that took place on January 6, 2021. In an interview with the Epoch Times, he said:

“They’re lambs led to slaughter to be sacrificed as an example for all who might want to dissent in the future. This is what the government does to those who express independent thought and want to stand up for what they believe.”

Okay, I am forced to admit at this point that this is yet another thing I did not no way no how see coming. I seem to be saying that a hell of a lot lately, but then I guess that’s just the kind of world we live in nowadays. At any rate, welcome to the party, Mr Fisher. Whatever else it might be, it’s certainly one hell of a ride, and we’re most glad to have ya along.

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Sticker shock

Just another nail in the EV coffin.

The true cost of an EV? Think tank claims subsidies for electric vehicles cost $50,000 PER CAR over a ten-year period
The true cost of electric cars to the average American taxpayer has been laid bare by a landmark new study into the eco vehicles.

In order to bring EVs to market, governments have created a variety of tax incentives for buyers and manufacturers. They have also sponsored the development of the infrastructure needed to charge them.

But those subsidies can come at a cost to taxpayers, buyers of gas vehicles or simply households that pay electricity bills.

A new paper by conservative think tank Texas Public Policy Foundation estimated that the average electric car incurs hidden costs of $48,698 over a 10-year period.

‘Electric vehicle owners have been the beneficiaries of regulatory credits, subsidies, and socialized infrastructure costs totaling nearly $50,000 per EV,’ said one of its authors, Jason Isaac.

eparately, it found that the infrastructure required to facilitate electric cars in America is not paid for directly by the owner of the car. It described those expenses as ‘socialized infrastructure costs.’

‘Home and public charging stations used by EVs put a significant strain on the electric grid, resulting in an average of $11,833 in socialized costs per EV over 10 years, which are shouldered by utility ratepayers and taxpayers,’ read the paper.

The authors argued that the gasoline infrastructure is used for other products and society at large, whereas electric vehicle charging costs currently only serve EV owners.

They also claimed that the additional strain placed on the power grid when charging electric cars would ordinarily incur ‘demand charges’ – or a premium for higher energy consumption at a certain time.

‘Currently, most utilities are socializing that cost for EV owners by not assessing demand charges on residential EV chargers, even though those chargers can use as much power at certain times as several homes,’ the report claimed.

Right up until the useless Wokester toy blows up and burns the house to cinders and ash.

So let’s see, now:

  • Random explosions;
  • Random deadly fires;
  • Hours wasted searching for and/or sitting in long, slow charging-station queues;
  • Yet more hours wasted “refueling” enough to at least maybe make it back home;
  • Unsatisfactory, grossly-exaggerated range;
  • Ruinously expensive battery replacement;
  • Total reliance on those horrible, horrible coal-fired power plants;
  • Drastically-shortened tire, hub-bearing, suspension, brake, and/or steering-component life due to the vehicle’s excessive weight;
  • Exorbitant towing charges when the PoS boat-anchor leaves you stranded;
  • Inability to enjoy battery-exsanguinating ”luxury” accessories including but not limited to heat, defrost, A/C, stereo, wipers, &c;
  • Ditto for carrying passengers;
  • Ditto for hauling loads or towing even a lightweight trailer with your electric pickup truck;
  • Don’t EVER touch ANYTHING under the hood or attempt to fix anything yourself, OR YOU MAY DIE

OOH-OOH-OOH I WANT ONE I WANT ONE I WANT ONE!

What the heck, whoever said virtue-signaling came cheap, right? Them’s the breaks. All of which I’d be okay with; hey, if smug, self-righteous Enviro-nut assholes don’t mind paying through the nose to establish their presumed moral-superiority bona-fides, well then you just have at it, fools. Unfortunately, though, we ALL get to pay for their dubious “privilege” right along with ‘em. To wit:

But the largest cost identified by the report was that on buyers of gas cars.

According to the paper, around 16 states have ‘zero emission vehicle’ (ZEV) mandates whereby the state sets a number or percentage of new vehicles sold that must be zero-emission.

‘Of course, the cost to meet these mandates is not limited to the states that impose them but spread out over the entire fleet of each automaker trying to meet them,’ read the paper.

On top of that, federal regulations impose similar obligations on automakers that incentivize them to make more electric vehicles.

‘The largest source of financial support for EVs comes not from direct subsidies but from hidden costs driven by federal regulations,’ read the paper.

‘The Biden administration’s stringent fuel economy standards and regulatory manipulations are driving American automakers toward bankruptcy and adding thousands of dollars to the cost of every gasoline vehicle,’ said Brent Bennett, another of the paper’s authors.

Just this month, Ford said during its third quarter earnings call that it lost an estimated $36,000 on each electric car it sold in the quarter.

Well, whaddya know about that: look closely enough, dig down far enough, and we learn that, of course and as always, the real problem has its roots deep within the bowels of the meddlesome, authoritarian Leviathan-state. Quelle surprise, that.

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All kinds of UNEXPECTED!™

Haven’t run a Quora Digest story in quite a while now, so let’s remedy that lapse, shall we? This is a good ‘un, involving Metallica vocalist/rhythm guitarist James Hetfield.

What is James Hetfield like in person?
James Hetfield phoned me several years ago out of the blue regarding a vintage Airstream trailer I restored and was selling. The trailer was a 1948 Airstream Wee Wind. There were about 62 made and there aren’t that many survivors. (I designed Airstream’s 75th Anniversary trailer and also build custom trailers) He purchased the trailer, and I had it shipped to California. A couple months later I flew out to LA to do a book signing. When it was over, I drove up to San Francisco and met him plus his family at the Marin/Sonoma car show near his home. He lives somewhere around that area. Spent the afternoon with everyone. He had the trailer at the event which he towed behind a 1947 Lincoln Zephyr. No one really noticed him as he was dressed pretty conservatively. I found him to be a nice guy. Didn’t seem to have a giant ego and genuinely listened while I showed him the various aspects of the Airstream. He also introduced me to some other car collectors at the event. It was a very enjoyable day. I’ve had other business dealings with James since and my opinion hasn’t changed. He also has been very generous, comping me great seats when they are on tour, and even onstage seats to their concerts. Is James Hetfield a nice guy? Hell yes.

Hetfield, an Airstream guy? Damn, that’s another one I didn’t see coming. I’ve always heard that, with the (very) occasional exception of axeman Kirk Hammett, the Metallica guys can be a bit unpleasant, shall we say, as a general rule. After years and years of mega-stardom, hit record after hit record, and all that touring on the long, arduous slog to the tippy-top of the rock and roll slagheap, it’s kinda understandable, really. Nice to hear that t’ain’t necessarily so just the same.

No embed this time out—not because I have anything against ‘em, mind; I like their stuff just fine, ever since the Black Album at any rate. I just kinda burned myself out on ‘em around the time Garage Inc was released and “Whiskey In The Jar” got played into the fuckin’ ground, that’s all. I mean, they did a good job on it and all, but jeez-o-PETE, man.

It ain’t as if the band needs any promotional help from the likes of me anyhoo, so I’ll just hold my fire and wait for something more obscure, off-the-wall, and non-ubiquitous to cross my path, methinks.

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National laughingstock

Everybody was getting in on the act of mocking our moronic, shambolic pRetend pResident for Halloween, even the kids.


Beaucoup more examples at the link, all of them hilarious. No capo, consigliere, confrere, or co-conspirator of the Bribem Crime Familia is spared, and it’s good stuff.

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American badass

That would be one Steve McQueen, as shown in this commercial for Honda’s all-time badass motocrosser, the almighty Elsinore CR250M.

Repops of that great orange and black Elsinore jersey McQueen sports in the vid can be had all day long for about 40-50 bucks, my lifelong friend and vintage-dirt-bike enthusiast Stan tells me. By contrast, Steve’s smoke-tinted helmet visor with the little rearview mirrors mounted on each side are rare as hens’ teeth, going for around 3-400 smacks when/if you’re fortunate enough to find one at all.

The video is a commercial McQueen made for Japanese TV, for which he got paid a cool million bucks. He actually ran the Elsinore Grand Prix (for which Honda’s first two-stroke MX bike was named) himself in 1970 under the hilarious nom de badass Harvey Mushman—no, really. Of that historic race, McQueen had this to say:

“When you’re runnin’ with the top ten, as I was, you’re really honkin’ on pretty good an’ what happpens is that with so many bikes choppin’ up the dirt the holes in the course get worse…deeper with each lap.

“I was comin’ out of a wash under a bridge with this road dip ahead and I just kinda took one of those big jumps where you’re sure you’re gonna make it but you don’t. And I didn’t. My bike nosed into the dip, which was, like, deep – and I went ass-over the bars into the crowd. Didn’t hurt anybody but me. My left foot was busted in six places.”

This wasn’t enough to stop him however, as he got back on the bike and finished the race, still finishing in the top ten!

What’d I tell ya? Badass!

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“Argue with them and get in their face”

Throw their own shit back at them, exactly as Bathhouse Barry once recommended be done to us.

A Wine O’Clock Wendy — I’m really trying to make this put-down go viral; I think it’s Streets Ahead of “AWFL” — and her Frankencuck husband were videoed ripping down posters of American hostages held by Hamas.

The woman putting up the posters was not having it.

Indeed she was NOT, bless her heart. After the “man” had committed assault and battery by placing “his” dainty hand over the justly outraged woman’s camera and shoving her—a Mark-1 Mod-0 insufferable shitlib smirk all over “his” womanly face—our Power Couple quickly scurried off with their tails tucked (y’know, like “his” squirrel-dick usually is) between their legs before the Bad Woman could punch their dim fucking lights out.

 

HELL yeah, that’s how you do it. The happy ending:

Brooklyn man suspended from job by his Jewish dad after ripping posters of Hamas hostages
A Brooklyn man seen tearing down posters of Israeli kids held by Hamas has been identified as a former magician — whose Jewish father suspended him from his gig at a user experience company, according to a report.

Noah Schaffer, 41, and his wife, Kelly, were seen being berated by a Jewish woman after they removed the posters this past weekend at Brooklyn Bridge Park, the group StopAntisemitism posted on X.

“This couple has been identified as spouses Kelly Ann and Noah Schaffer. Kelly has been previously arrested and works as a social worker for @UrbanDoveNY. Noah works as a strategist for @humanfactors,” the group wrote.

Again, that’s Noah and Kelly Ann Schaffer, likely of some precious, too-twee Brooklyn hipsterhood. Wherever these two vile creatures may reside, I think it would be just AWFUL if large, angry mobs started showing up on the doorstep of their domicile with torches, truncheons, and bullhorns at 3 AM every night for about, oh, a year. Anybody out there knows how to find their home address, feel free to let me know and I’ll happily update this post with it. Goose, meet gander.

Update! Done and done, courtesy of our friend Aesop, reporting in from his extended vacay:

Apparently, that address would be

Noah and Kelly Ann (McManus) Schaeffer
191 Willoughby St. Apt 12K.
Brooklyn NY 10026

Well whaddayaknow about that, in Brooklyn, just a hop, skip, and a jump from the borough’s Ft Greene nabe. Only reason I know even that much is I had two musician friends who lived thereabouts, but that was back in the mid-90s: bassist Bill and drummer Stanley. Used to drive out from Manhattan to fetch the boys a cpl-three nights a week, load their gear, and whisk the three of us off to whatever extra-money side gig we had scheduled in Brooklyn, central Lawn Guyland, or out in the Hamptons. As many times as I did that, I very much doubt I could find either of their houses today.

Billy has long since moved to Norway, where his lovely and vivacious wife Ingegerd hails from originally. Aussie Stan, as his friends called him, lived in a HUGE three-story Victorian-style house on a lovely, quiet, tree-lined block off Flatbush Ave which his wife had inherited some years before I met him. I won’t say it was a mansion, but if somebody else wanted to I might put a “yes” to it. I pure-tee loved Stan and Mrs Stan’s crib; for starters, it had a paved driveway leading downhill into a three-car (THREE!) garage under the house equipped with automatic bay-doors and remote-opener fob. Through the inside door from the garage waited a sumptuous, nicely-appointed rumpus room/man-cave, complete with:

  • A tournament-size pool table
  • A vintage Wurlitzer jukebox loaded with old blues, country, and rockabilly .45s
  • A fully-stocked bar from the late 1940s–dark, worn wood and the traditional brass foot-rail at bottom, out of a long-deceased neighborhood gin-mill owned by a friend of Stan’s who just gave him the bar gratis when it finally shut down for good; the guy even went so far as to help Stan move the heavy-ass thing to his house
  • A classic Bally KISS pinball table in near-new condition
  • Assorted plush, comfortable leather sofas and recliner-chairs deep and soft enough to sink down into without a trace
  • A German foosball table, likewise meticulously preserved, but with that easy, loose feel to the action that all properly broken-in German tables ought to have; a fast, hard front-man pull-, toe-, or slap-shot past the opposing goalie would always yield that sharp, satisfying BANG! that every skilled foosballer lives for, so loud it can easily be heard way over on the far side of a packed, noisy arcade—a sound those shitty French tables with their wimpy cork balls simply can’t produce—usually accompanied by the metallic, whispery TINK! of the hard plastic ball meeting the thin sheet-steel plate mounted at the back of the goal-hole to protect the wood behind it. The game rooms I loved best in my misspent youth would go dead silent for a few seconds in the wake of such a resounding score, after which respectful pause the shouts and applause would ring out from the other players: POINT! HELL yeah! BURN! Sucker just got his ass SLAMMED!!! High fives, backslaps, gales of raucous laughter all around; those were the rooms I went to again and again and again, and there’s a damned good reason for that

Let me tell ya, driving down to park in the underground garage, unass the vehicle, from there to emerge into a veritable palace like Stan’s basement hideaway was, the whole damned house was—in cramped, overcrowded New York City, mind, not exactly renowned for its generously-sized, airy, comfortable indoor spaces—made you feel like you were really somebody. And that is the God’s honest truth.

Fort Greene was a nice enough if not particularly fancy area back then, but by now who knows. Been nigh on twenty years since I was last in Brooklyn, so I couldn’t guess how extensively or even whether Ft Greene has been gentrified; I do know that at this point most of seedy, grubby old Brooklyn has been tidied up, refreshed, and/or rebuilt to at least some degree. But no matter. Whatever the neighborhood’s current condition, if you’re in the area I think the sudden wee-hours appearance of a flaming bag of fresh-squeezed dogshit at Chez Schaeffer’s front door as a Halloween gift would surely not go amiss, to hijack from its proper context a fine old Captain Mal line.

A flick of the Bic, a press of the doorbell, a fleet-footed dash back into the anonymity of night’s darkness, and voila! Mission accomplished, and well done to you. Maybe the pissed-off woman in the above Andy Ngo vid would enjoy dropping one off for ‘em. T’is a consummation devoutly to be wished, the absolute least the rotten, uncaring douchetools deserve for what they did. A standard issue non-apology “apology” accompanied by an insincere, blasé shrug just ain’t gonna cut it, I shouldn’t think.

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