GIVE TIL IT HURTS!

Blue state voters declare open season on anyone not a Leftist Democreep

Annnnnd off we go.

BLUE WAVE:

  • Mikie Sherrill Clinches New Jersey Governor’s Mansion.
  • Decision Desk HQ Calls Virginia Attorney General’s Race for Jay ‘Two Bullets’ Jones.
  • Decision Desk HQ Has Already Called the Virginia Governor’s Race for Abigail Spanberger.
  • NYC Falls to Communism, Elects Mamdani Mayor.

UPDATE (FROM GLENN): A friend comments: “This Just In: Democrat areas elect democrats!” Yeah, but today’s Democrats are basically Communists, so…

ANOTHER UPDATE (ALSO FROM GLENN): From my former State Senator Stacy Campfield: “Republicans can’t be surprised that they aren’t winning races in places that they are also leaving in droves.”

As if that wasn’t bad enough:


In sum, then, even in races where the D卐M☭CRAT penchant for violence, murder, and balls-out fascism was most pungently on display, the voters still gave the Party of Hate HUGE wins. Which makes the whole shebang an undisguised endorsement of violence, murder, and balls-out fascism on the part of said voters.

Which in turn means that next time you hear some cum-gargling Milquetoast of a “conservative” pundit going way out of his way to smarmily point out that the shooters, looters, and Rent A Mob thugs are just a tiny handful of radical-fringe dead enders, all Real Americans will henceforth be required to immediately punch the lame punk-ass bitch in thw mouth until he shuts the fuck up and slinks the fuck off.

What a fucking disaster. But hey, next time for sure, right, fellas? MOAR HOPIUM, NURSE, STAT!!!

Update! Not that I want to come off TOO Eeyore-ish or anything here, but insty’s friend in Update #1 above is a deal too nonchalant to suit me with that “Democrat areas elect democrats” crack. It’s true enough as far as it goes., but there’s nonetheless a distinction. to be made here between being unperturbed and confident, and being a blind fool—and that distinction is a crucial one. Glenn acknowledges this bitter home truth when he reminds us that today’s D卐M☭CRATs are not those of yesteryear, nothing like. They are openly, even proudly Communists, whatever they may or may not have been in your Grandpa’s day.

Today’s total Communist sweep, winning even the precious few races Repub candidates were expected to at least be competetitive in, is a full-throated and unequivocal notfication that this is no longer America That Was, that the D卐M☭CRATs are no longer the Loyal Opposition, and that the political landscape in Amerika v2.0 has shifted dramatically.

Snark if you will, but we’ll all soon see how deeply unfunny our predicament is. As for NYC specifically, I have to admit that I was kinda looking forward to watching those shitlib nimrods really getting theirs by putting the Red Jihadi into Gracie Mansion, but there’s a slight problem with that too, one that always and forever seems to crop up in such situations. To wit: the aftereffects of today’s self-inflicted injury will by no means be limited to Leftard NYC eedjits alone. Sorry, but thanks to, among other factors, NYC’s status as the Colossus of international finance and/or banking, with corporate HQs, Wall Street, the advertising/arts/entertainment/media industries clustering there, the pain from today’s’ bonehead maneuver will surely be felt across the entire nation, probebly the whole world as well.

And that right there exemplifies the problem I mentioned just now. Consider: how many of us have fantasized, in idle barside chitchat with friends, about finding a secluded island paradise where Left/liberal/Progressivist nitwits could set up the exact kind of government, society,and culture they claim to want? The catch being, of course, that once they debark the ship and set foot on Tardzania, they have to stay; they will never be allowed back here to plague normal, sane people again.

Thing is, heavenly as it sounds, it simply can’t be done, it’s unpossible, see. Due to their inmost nature—intransigent, bumptious, meddlesome, arrogant—shitlibs could no more leave others alone to live as they prefer, to conduct their affairs as they think best, than they could sprout wings from their backs and fly off to Mars. Put ‘em on a remote island where they can do as they please, not just sometimes but ALL the time, but which veritable Shangri-La 1) they are expressly forbidden to ever depart, an ironclad contractual obligation enforced by armed guards wiith deadly-force ROEs, and 2) has no (zip, zero, nada) access, either physical, visual, or auditory, to the Freemen back home in the States, and they’d be as miserable as a leper colony.

And the instant that realization hits home, that’s when the escape attempts will begin, quickly ramping up from once in a GREAT while to a several-times-daily event. Count on it. Best part about that is, they’ll be dropping onto the beach like seagull turds, as Security gets their rifles dialed in and learns to compensate for the drop and/or drift from that lovely ocean “windage.”

Updated update! A sensible New Yorker provides chapter and verse on Mamasboyani and the ride New Yorkers are about to taken for.

Every civilization faces a test. They rarely collapse from a single blow. Instead, they decay from within—through cynicism, decadence, and an erosion of shared beliefs. Augustine wrote The City of God to explain how Rome’s fall was not merely political, but spiritual: a people who no longer believed in themselves could not defend against their enemies.

Tonight, New York stands at a similar threshold, as voters head to the polls today to choose our next mayor. Among the names on the ballot is Zohran Mamdani, a socialist Assemblyman from Queens whose rise has sent shockwaves through New York, the Democratic Party, and our nation. His popularity signals how far the unraveling has already come. Like the birds of prey descending on Abram – symbols of forces that threaten the sacred – a flock of socialists has descended on New York. In the name of “justice,” they are gnawing at its civic and moral foundations, hoping to feed on its prosperity.

The speed of change has been breathtaking. It feels inconceivable that we stand here today. I write this piece not out of hatred for Zohran and his supporters, but love for New York. A city built over centuries that has been a beacon of light and progress for the modern world. As a central hub of the global economy, we now face the possibility of a mayor with virtually no experience, little practical education, and highly questionable values.

Mamdani represents, to me, everything I fight against.

I am concerned that Mamdani represents a burgeoning New Left, one in which American values like hard work and meritocracy are dismissed rather than embraced. Mamdani’s CV reflects a highly privileged adult life. Internships for his celebrity mother, rapping stints, endless protests – but little actual work. He holds a degree in Africana Studies from Bowdoin, where nearly every course description contains the same litany of buzzwords: gender, class, justice, imperialism, oppression. It reads less like a curriculum than an indoctrination — Wokeism 101.

He listed his ethnicity as African American on his college applications, despite being of Indian descent. His base is largely white, affluent, educated, downwardly-mobile elites. This group seems to believe that apartments in Brooklyn are a birthright, stolen by billionaires and landlords.

The stakes for New York could not be higher. This is the man that many in our city want to put in charge. A man with virtually no work or management experience, whose ideology treats financial success as sin, police as villains, and government handouts as the ticket to a life of “dignity.”

Now, we arrive at the Big, Tough Q’s.

Will New York remain a city of builders, doers, and dreamers under this kind of leader? Or will the builders leave, and take their incomes (and taxes) with them? The top 1% of New Yorkers cover 48% of income taxes. Scare them away, and we will be staring down a fiscal crisis unlike anything seen since the 1970s.

New York hasn’t been “a city of builders, doers, and dreamers” for many, many years, I’m afraid. As my friend Pfouts used to put it: “It’s a good thing they got the subway finished when they did. This ciry could NEVER build such a thing today, no way! A Chrysler Building, an Empire State? My God, they can barely even fill in a lousy pothole these days!” We shared many a good laugh over that one, although we both knew it was more true than it was funny.

Then again, except for isolated pockets here and there, the same transmogrification from builders and doers into pussies and geeks could be fairly said of the US generally. The kind of rugged, audacious, creative individuals who built not only NYC but America That Was itself seem to be mighty hard to come by nowadays, to our everlasting sorrow.

Rich

How could any true-blue American not absolutely love the guy?

Trump threatens thugs in violence-ridden Chicago with ‘Chipocalypse Now’ post
WASHINGTON — President Trump put thugs in crime-ridden Chicago on notice Saturday, promising to send in the newly-renamed Department of War in a threatening Truth Social post.

“Chicago (is) about to find out why it’s called the Department of WAR,” the president wrote, referencing his Friday executive order renaming the Department of Defense to its original name.

The post was accompanied by an AI picture of Trump seated with fire and helicopters with the Chicago skyline in the background, dressed as the character Robert Duvall played in the movie “Apocalypse Now.”

In the words of SCOTS frontman, lead guitarist, lead vocalist, and principal songwriter Rick Miller: it’s too much pork for just one fork.

Gentlemen, start your engines. Close and latch all exterior doors and hatches, secure any loose gear, and prepare to roll tanks; this squadron is gonna make a Thunder Run right through the middle of Chicago so wild, wooly, and straight-up ragin’ it’s gonna make the fabled one in Baghdad look like two toddlers playing Pit-A-Pat by comparison.

Let’s get this party STARTED, people!

Bet none of y’all had “kicks off for reals in formerly mellow, laid-back El Lay, duuuude, sparked by illegal-alien cuddling shitlibs violently turning on certain FederalGovCo departments and/or agencies for simply doing their jobs and nothing more” on your Civil War v2.0 bingo card, now didja?

Many Americans express bewilderment to me as to why even the soi-disant Euro-pussies would surrender their homelands to barbarians without a shot being fired. Fair point – except that the pilot programme for this unprecedented civilisational suicide was an American jurisdiction, and once one of the most glittering in the Union. Among forty-nine other states, it was the Golden State; it fired the imaginations not just of Americans but of much of the planet: California, here I come! Won’t you get hip to this timely tip? I left my heart in San Francisco…

Really? If you did, it’ll be sitting in a pile of fecal matter. Even as it happened, the loss of California was not much analysed: The Democrats preferred to take their victory sotto voce, while Republicans were still bleating about “Ronald Reagan’s California”, as if it had not joined the Lost City of Atlantis on the bottom of the seabed. Orange County, said Mr Reagan, is where “all good Republicans go to die”.

Almost right. It’s where the Republican Party went to die. In 1990 the OC was still two-thirds white; now it’s a third, or the same as the Hispanic population. And yet the GOP remains mystified why one of the most Republican strongholds in the country is now just another Democrat county. California has more electoral votes than any other state. Across the country, in another vote-rich state, New York City is now forty per cent immigrant.

In the end, it’s all demography. Yesterday, I quoted from an old column of mine from the immediate aftermath of the 2012 election. But I thought the whole thing could use a replay – because demography killed California, and demographic transformation is not a natural phenomenon.

Did someone mention NYC just now? Why yes, I believe someone did at that.

NYPD vehicles torched in suspected arson attack as cops find undetonated explosive devices nearby
Arsonists torched at least 11 NYPD vehicles in a targeted attack in a Brooklyn parking lot early Thursday — with undetonated explosive devices also found after two masked suspects were seen running away, police and sources said.

Police and FDNY responded to a report of multiple vehicles ablaze at a lot in Bushwick at the intersection of Central and DeKalb avenues — just a block from the 83rd Precinct station house — around 1:30 a.m. Thursday.

Mayor Eric Adams said at an unrelated press conference that 11 vehicles were damaged and 14 were impacted. No injuries were reported.

The NYPD did not immediately give a suspected motive for the attack, however a flyer taped to a wall directly across from the police station accuses officers of the 83rd precinct of breaking up Puerto Rican Day festivities on Sunday night, injuring revelers.

The fliers called for resistance against the police, and tied in the anti-ICE and protests have spread from Los Angeles to New York City and global anti-Israel protests.

“Now is the time for unified, disciplined action — from Palestine to Puerto Rico to Los Angeles, the struggle for freedom continues,” the flier read.

The above-cited reports of outbreaks of organized, coordinated shitlib violence from sea to shining sea are purely coincidental and entirely unrelated, I’m sure.

This land is THEIR land update! So what’s really going on here, you might well ask? Oh, lots. Lots, and lots, and lots, and LOTS.


1830, is it, muchacho? Having to reach kinda far back to make your point, seems to me. Which usually indicates that the point you’re trying to make is not a very good one. To wit:

How US got California, other states from Mexico for $15 million in 1848
The flag of Mexico has become ubiquitous on the streets of America as a protest symbol against Donald Trump and his government’s immigration policies. Which makes sense given that many people in Texas and California have Mexican ancestry. Let’s take a look at when the US purchased California and half of Mexico’s territory in 1848 got California, other states from Mexico for $15 million in 1848

The protests in Los Angeles, a response to the immigration policies of the Trump administration, continue to rage.

Though US President Donald Trump has sent thousands of National Guard troops as well as hundreds of marines, the demonstrators seem to be undeterred.

But how did it all come about? Let us take a closer look.

It all kicked off way back in the 1840s.

Tensions between the two countries had been growing for years.

On the one side you had the US evangelists of the concept of “manifest destiny” – which preached the superiority and the seemingly divine right of Americans to colonise whatever lands they saw fit on the continent – and on the other you had a wary Mexico.

In the meantime hostilities had nearly broken out between the two countries after the US Navy in 1942 – wrongly believing that war had broken out – seized Monterey in California.

While Monterey was immediately returned, it was a harbinger of things to come.

In 1845, outgoing President John Tyler annexed Texas as his final act in the US’ highest office.

By then, Mexico had severed diplomatic relations with the United States.

Polk began with diplomacy – he initially attempted to buy California, New Mexico and land near Texas for $30 million.

In November 1845, he even sent US diplomat John Slidell to open negotiations with Mexico.

However, Slidell was soundly rebuffed – the Mexican government refused to even see him.

But Polk was prepared– he had already sent US Army commander Zachary Taylor to occupy disputed land.

When Mexican troops fired on Taylor and his forces, Polk had the pretext he needed.

Polk immediately moved Congress for a declaration of war against America’s neighbour.

The Mexican-American War would end (with) the US comprehensively defeating its neighbour.

American armies led by General Zachary Taylor and General Winfield Scott, often outnumbered, would defeat Mexican troops again and again in a series of pitched battles.

The US lost more soldiers to infection and disease than actual battle.

Ulysses S Grant and Robert E Lee, the men who would respectively lead the Union and Confederate armies during the Civil War, received their first taste of real combat in Mexico.

And the rest, as they say, is history…like it or lump it, beaners.

The glancing mention of Grant and Marse Robert above is notable, apt, and historically insructive. By and large, Civil War v1.0 would be fought by two national armies whose officer corps had won their respective spurs in the Mex-Ami rhubarb. With the Federal army, the majority of its field-grade officers would be offered their commissions based almost entirely on their Mexican War reputations, which sometimes had been fairly won and other times…eh, not so much.

In the long run, the relative cakewalk South of the US border ended up serving the US and CSA both quite well as a sort of hands-on, non-classroom OCS/practical training course/advanced tactical studies program for the shattering, murderous conflagration soon to get underway North of the border.

Not again update! Another day, another dumpster-dive for those poor Jarheads.

Marines Deployed To Another Third-World Country Full Of Hostile Foreigners
LOS ANGELES, CA — As has become the standard operating procedure for the military branch over the last half-century, 700 members of the United States Marines found themselves being deployed to yet another third-world country that is full of hostile foreigners.

In this latest deployment to a non-English-speaking wasteland, the Marines were supremely confident that they would be able to handle the marauding hordes of foreign nationals, despite the inhospitable conditions presented by the rubble and destruction of the surroundings.

“Same thing, different day,” said Sergeant Heath Parsons. “We know the drill. We train and prepare until the day when our number is called and we have to report to save the world by traveling to some third-world hell-hole to confront foreign hostiles. We’re used to it at this point.”

Though there had already been some skirmishes in which Marines clashed with the angry natives in the area, the presence of the U.S. Military had already had an impact on the war-torn region. “You can catch little glimpses of what this place used to be like,” said another Marine. “It’s part of our job as Marines, in addition to being prepared to fight, to bring a little bit of hope with us from the United States to show places like this what life can be like under better circumstances.”

Some of the foreigners cautiously welcomed the Marines, while others remained combative when faced with English-speaking Americans.

Well, it’s just that, out in the “press 2 for English” sectors of the FUSA, they run across so vanishingly few of the darn things, see. Puts them right out of their reckoning. “Exotic” doesn’t even begin to cover the idea of an American in LA who actually speaks the King’s English.

At publishing time, rumors persisted that the Pentagon was committed to eventually establishing a democracy in the area.

Shhhhyeeeaah, THAT’LL be the day. You’d have a tough time coming up with much more than, oh, eight or ten people—irrespective of ethnicity, nationality, income (if any) and/or educational level, citizenship status, gender, sexual orientation, etc etc who’d be willing to admit harboring even a passing interest in that ”democracy/liberty/prosperity” horsepuckey at this late date, I‘d guess. Well, except for the areas within, say, five-ten minutes’ walk of Ft Irwin, Camp Pendleton, Coronado, Miramar, Seal Beach, and El Centro, perhaps—haven’t been out to any of those places in a long while, but I can’t imagine that the old-time religion of abiding love of country, strong sense of duty and honor, the legacy of traditions and beliefs faithfully passed down from our Forefathers from generation to generation have all just quietly passed not just from existence but even from the memories of our young soldiers, sailors, airmen, and Marines. No way.

Then again, though, throw San Fransicko, San Berdoo, Compton, and Oakland into the mix with LA and it would probably be more than enough to tip the scales well back into Team Stalin territory and away from any more of that “democracy” nonsense for good.

Let’s not even go into the impact on this “democracy” discussion Cullyfornia’s military airfields; training bases; rifle, AGM, aerial bombing, and artillery ranges, as well as not-quite-as-venerable but every bit as proud, honorable installations such as Fort St George of Fentanyl, Camp Jordan Neely, and NAS “Bathhouse” Barry Soetero are likely to bring to bear when all’s said and done, ‘kay?

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Some days are just better than others…

Trump’s deportation of the criminals is occurring daily. Here is the video of the El Salvador reception of nearly 300 of them, to be housed in the El Salvador terrorist prison, CECOT.

Nayib Bukele

238 Tren de Aragua and 23 MS 13 reception

Update:
Direct From the White House

MAGA pedal to the MAGA metal

It’s Glorious! Mexico already blinking and promising to put 10,000 soldiers on the border… USAID being shut down, dismantled… The US Treasury has been taken over by MAGA… Office of Personnel Management has sofa beds installed so MAGA people can control it around the clock… It’s hard to keep up! President Trump spent his first term learning how bad it really was, who the bad and good people are, where the bodies lie and where new ones need to be placed. The 2nd Term is the chainsaw as the MAGA team is dismantling the deep state piece by marxist piece in a short period of time. President Trump is treating the enemies of America ruthlessly.

Read about some of it here

Hat Tip – you should be reading

Update:
It is my belief that the President’s men have uncovered all the evidence implicating certain republicans in illegal activities, and they now have the upper hand in controlling the corrupt bastards.
President Trump is Winning – CNN

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President Trump is Dismantling the deep state brick by brick, layer by layer…

News from today, the marxist left is on its heels, and all we need is for the republican party to work with Trump instead of against Trump. Do that and we set the commies back 20-50 years.

It’s a glorious day every day!

Trump orders all federal employee’s to delete their pronouns from email:

Abortion related DOD travel expenses nixed:

Members of Wray’s FBI told to “retire, resign, or face termination by Monday ” https://thelibertydaily.com/members-christopher-wrays-fbi-leadership-posse-told-retire/

Team Trump treating the press as Propagandist’s:

Trump threatens 100% tariffs on “BRICS” countries: https://www.wnd.com/2025/01/trump-threatens-100-percent-tariffs-on-brics-counties/

Trump replaces DIE hiring with merit based hiring at the FAA:

Trump to fire tons of FBI agents by end of the day: https://therightscoop.com/breaking-president-trump-to-fire-tons-of-fbi-agents-by-the-end-of-the-day/

Trump will absolutely impose tariffs on the EU: https://thenationalpulse.com/2025/01/31/breaking-trump-says-he-will-absolutely-impose-tariffs-on-european-union/

Executive Order to remove 10 rules for every new one:

Miraculous Milei

I refer any parties interested in my feelings on this development to the Kelly Bundy vid in the previous post.

Argentinian President Javier Milei To Join Trump At Presidential Inauguration
Argentinian President Javier Milei confirmed Tuesday that he plans to attend the upcoming inauguration of President-elect Donald Trump in Washington this January.

The news was first reported by Bloomberg, citing an Argentine government spokesperson. A spokesperson for Milei confirmed the news, according to CBS News. Milei recently echoed Trump’s slogan and took to social media to show his support.

As preparations for the inauguration continue, Milei is slated to be the first confirmed world leader at the Jan. 20 ceremony, with others reportedly making arrangements, CBS News reported.

“Attend”? Pish-tosh! Argentina’s Miracle Man of right ought to be flown up on a specially-chartered Trump Force One flight; chauffeured out of Andrews AFB to the Inauguration venue in the most luxuriously appointed, stretchiest limo EVAR (the BEAST!!); escorted down a plush, ankle-deep red carpet by a bevy of dynamite chicks, each one lovelier than Faye Dunaway; and shown to his exclusive front row seat as not merely an honored, respected, and welcome guest of his American counterpart, but as a close personal friend and trusted partner of Trump’s as well. From all appearances I don’t think it would be overstating the case much to say the two reformist Chief Executives are birds of a feather, feisty twin brothers born of different mothers. Thus, OMB would be well advised to treat Javier Milei as such.

I very much hope (and expect) that President The Donald is savvy enough, wily enough, to recognize this signal occasion for exactly what it is: a unique, not-to-be-squandered opportunity to rub Uniparty statists’ noses vigorously in both his own and Milei’s resounding triumph right from the git-go. If he does, and conducts himself accordingly, the traditional Inaugural after-party—parties, actually—will be well and truly lit, in a way and to an extent none has ever been before.

Let solidarity be the watchword here, sayeth I. May these like-minded stalwarts stand shoulder-to-shoulder in mutually-supportive defiance of the common foe. Not one (1) degree of separation ought to be allowed to intervene betwixt them going forward—not physically, not ideologically, not in practical terms.

The renewed flood of sweet, sweet shitlib tears alone would make giving Milei the full-on Royal Treatment well worth any conceivable inconvenience and/or expense.

In a struggle so desperate as the present one is shaping up to be, it simply is not possible to have too many allies. Having known so many combat-blooded warriors so well over lo, these many years and lent an attentive ear to the harrowing war-stories they had to tell, I have yet to hear a man Jack of them complain that the battlefield on which he fought was just too dang crowded with friendlies. Years ago, on one of the terribly rare occasions he’d even speak of his experiences there at all*, my Korea-vet dad (US Army, Chemical Weapons Corps) solemnly assured me that there are no atheists in foxholes; from what I can make out, there ain’t no loners to be found there, either.

* Apparently, my poor ol’ Dad saw more than enough mind-bending horror in Korea to do him; as a kid, I well remember being terrified out of my wits whenever he had one of his recurrent flashback-nightmares; one night, he vaulted from a flatfooted start on my bedroom floor straight to the top of my dresser in one go, whooping and shouting like a banshee, calling for reinforcements right the hell NOW, screaming out re-deployment orders to squad-mates I couldn’t see, pointing out advancing enemies in division strength which existed only in his memory. I’ll never forget it; it was seriously awful, like all the Korea stories he eventually divulged to me were. My mom was stunned to hear he’d told me anything whatsoever when I talked to her a few years back about it; he never once opened up to her over their whole 27-year marriage, although the nightmares pretty much said it all, I suppose

Update! Off-topic, sure, but what the hey: since I brought my Old Man up and all, here’s a portrait done in his Army days.

Roger Gene Hendrix, b. March 3, 1934, d. March 10, 1996

That one enjoyed pride of place on the wall of my grandma’s tiny den/family room/TV room as far back as I can remember and beyond, until one fine day years after she’d passed on my Aunt Ruth took it down unasked and gave it to li’l ol’ moi. It now enjoys pride of place on my dining-room wall, and will until I croak. His decorations—quite a few of them, actually—lived in a beat-up old cigar box of my Macanudo-chomping Uncle Murray’s nestled in the top drawer of Dad’s tall chest-of-drawers along with the cuff links, tie tacks, business cards, loose change, and sundry other male impedimenta. When our parents weren’t home to catch us at it, me and my brother Jeff used to sneak the expressly-off-limits-for-us box from its hidey-hole and look at the medals, ribbons, citations, and such all the time. No idea what they were for or what might’ve became of them, I regret to say. Maybe Jeff ended up with ‘em, I dunno. I certainly hope so, anyway.

One of my dad’s most distressing Korean War stories was of a shot-to-shit F86-D that wobbled and staggered weakly over my dad’s base-camp area at under 500 feet, steadily losing altitude and airspeed until it finally gave up the ghost of powered flight altogether and augured into the side of a large hill/small mountain and caught fire. My father and a handful of his buddies raced over to see if they could rescue the pilot before he burned to death. Alas, when they arrived at the crash scene and pried the ex-Sabre’s canopy off, all that was left of the luckless aviator was, in Dad’s words, “just a bunch of red jelly” painted liberally all over the ejector seat, instrument panel, cockpit interior, and windscreen—at which gruesome tableau he and his buddies puked prodigiously. Then they all walked slowly, silently back to base-camp together, depressed to their very socks at having failed in their ill-starred rescue mission.

After the war-conversation ice had at last been broken between us once and for all, my father recounted this tragic event two or three more times, and without exception as the unhappy ending approached his eyes would puddle up, his hands would start to tremble, his face would redden, and his throat would constrict so badly that he could barely even croak out the words, so powerful was the effect they had on him. Knowing what I know now, I pray to God above that calmly, quietly discussing these shattering experiences with his firstborn son afforded him at least some surcease, however fleeting, from the never-ending anguish the memory of them brought. In Jesus’ name, I pray it. Things like this may be buried, but they can never truly be laid to rest.

Another tale, less grim and almost funny in a bleak sort of way, regards the afternoon a supply train pulled in to the base, parked up at a siding for unloading, and caught fire. Seeing the incipient conflagration, my pop led a small crew of four or five intrepid souls into one of the loaded boxcars and began unloading the cargo as quick as could be, without any inkling of what might be in the gnarly wooden crates they were pulling from the burning boxcar and dragging clear.

As it turned out, their mad dash to save the unknown-to-them cargo was one of the acts of soldierly heroism and derring-do my Dad received a medal for: the crates were full of Willie Pete, a/k/a White Phosphorous, a highly-flammable and volatile load that, by a miracle, didn’t explode and torch every last one of them. He said that, when the Captain informed them afterwards of what they had on their hands, praising the men for their bravery Above And Beyond etc and selflessness, he almost fainted dead away on the spot: his knees got weak, his eyes lost focus, his head started spinning, and if his friends’ faces were any indication, he went white as a fresh-bleached sheet. Laughingly, he said his fellow impromptu firefighting squad all later agreed on at least one thing: if they’d known beforehand that the boxcar was stacked floor to ceiling with crates of WP, they’d all have run as fast and as far as they could away from that damned train.

My Dad said his primary duty as a Chemical Corps PFC was running a flamethrower, still in widespread use during the Korean conflict. According to him, shooting his flamethrower was a heck of a lot of fun, he really liked it…until the not-so-frabjous day arrived when he had to torch live enemy soldiers for reals, which for him kinda took all the joy out of the whole backpack-napalm-squirter business. He found turning actual living, breathing people into charcoal briquets, soot, and drifting flakes of foul-smelling ash, regardless of enemy-combatant status, not nearly as diverting and/or satisfying as incinerating kitchen trash pits, practice range targets, termite mounds, bald Jeep tires, and assorted piles of useless junk had been. As those years-later frightmares would attest, he never got over the soul-searing horror of it.

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The one and only

At long, long last, a candidate I can get behind with all my heart, soul, mind, spirit, and body, to my last ounce of strength.

Sometimes the right person emerges. When we needed a person to see us through the War for Independence and to serve as this new nation’s first president, Washington emerged. When Britain found itself fighting for its life against Nazi Germany, Churchill emerged. When our country was tearing itself apart over the slavery question, Lincoln emerged.

And now, in our troubled times, David ‘Iowahawk’ Burge has emerged.

Man, has he ever. And how.



The above infuriatingly-truncated “Read more” passage ends thusly: “…leave office after four years.” Which is of course a baldfaced lie, or so we must hope; President-for-Life the Right Hon Mr David NMI Burge would be totally jake with me, I gots no objection, although YMMV. If so, please keep it on the down-low, I really don’t wanna know. It would pain me no end to see any of my beloved CF Lifers permanently beclown himself by publicly confessing to such disgraceful Wrongthink as that.

At any rate, the laff-train keeps a-rolling all night long from there:



Lots, lots more after that one, every last syllable likewise meeting or surpassing the impossibly-high IowahawkCorp© standards for Beverage-Spewing Hilarity, Aggravated GutBustery w/HowlinglyFunny cluster, and/or RightdafuckON, Muhfuhgr! we’ve all come to expect from that crazy-ass fool.

FULL DISCLOSURE OF UNACCEPTABLE JOURNALISMIC BIAS: I’ve been good buds with the legendary David Burge (FACT CHECK: NOT his real name, nor is “Iowahawk,” astonishingly enough) for quite a few years, although over the last several we’ve fallen out of touch, to my boundless regret and ensorrowment.

Dave, if you happen across this, my phone # has changed since we last talked, so do please kite me one of them newfangled electronic-mail thingamabobbers instead (mike-at-cf-dot-etc) when you get a spare minute, wouldja? I realize you’re a busy, busy beaver and all, but I’d truly admire to hear from ya, old friend, it’s been way too long. Hope this missive finds you still fightin’ fit, happy as some clams, and generally doing well—seeing’s how “doing good” sorta cuts against your usual warp and woof and so would feel pretty dang weird, probably for both of us.

Best wishes for fair winds and following seas on your write-in White House run; we could certainly do worse for a Prez-mo-dent, MUCH worse, and likely will. Gaia knows we have, more than just once, twice, or thrice at that.

And to think, the Beltway (Butt)Bandits consider Trump an outsider.

T’would serve those never-to-be-sufficiently-damned Swamp-rats right, sayeth moi.

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A PROPER D-Day 80th anniversary commemoration

Leave it to Steyn to provide one, from the Canadian perspective.

A lot went wrong, but more went right – or was made right. A few hours before the Canadians aboard the Prince Henry climbed into that landing craft, 181 men in six Horsa gliders took off from RAF Tarrant Rushton in Dorset to take two bridges over the River Orne and hold them until reinforcements arrived. Their job was to prevent the Germans using the bridges to attack troops landing on Sword Beach. At lunchtime, Lord Lovat and his commandos arrived at the Bénouville Bridge, much to the relief of the 7th Parachute Battalion’s commanding officer, Major Pine-Coffin. That was his real name, and an amusing one back in Blighty: simple pine coffins are what soldiers get buried in. It wasn’t quite so funny in Normandy, where a lot of pine coffins would be needed by the end of the day. Lord Lovat, Chief of Clan Fraser, apologized to Pine-Coffin for missing the rendezvous time: “Sorry, I’m a few minutes late,” he said, after a bloody firefight to take Sword Beach.

Lovat had asked his personal piper, Bill Millin, to pipe his men ashore. Private Millin pointed out that this would be in breach of War Office regulations. “That’s the English War Office, Bill,” said Lovat. “We’re Scotsmen.” And so Millin strolled up and down the sand amid the gunfire playing “Hieland Laddie” and “The Road to the Isles” and other highland favorites. The Germans are not big bagpipe fans and I doubt it added to their enjoyment of the day.

The building on the other side of the Bénouville Bridge was a café and the home of Georges Gondrée and his family. Thérèse Gondrée had spent her childhood in Alsace and thus understood German. So she eavesdropped on her occupiers, and discovered that in the machine-gun pillbox was hidden the trigger for the explosives the Germans intended to detonate in the event of an Allied invasion. She notified the French Resistance, and thanks to her, after landing in the early hours of June 6th, Major Howard knew exactly where to go and what to keep an eye on.

Shortly after dawn there was a knock on Georges Gondrée’s door. He answered it to find two paratroopers who wanted to know if there were any Germans in the house. The men came in, and Thérèse embraced them so fulsomely that her face wound up covered in camouflage black, which she proudly wore for days afterward. Georges went out to the garden and dug up ninety-eight bottles of champagne he’d buried before the Germans arrived four years earlier. And so the Gondrée home became the first place in France to be liberated from German occupation. There are always disputes about these things, of course: some say the first liberated building was L’Etrille et les Goélands (the Crab and the Gulls), subsequently renamed – in honour of the men who took it that morning – the Queen’s Own Rifles of Canada house. But no matter: the stylish pop of champagne corks at the Café Gondrée was the bells tolling for the Führer’s thousand-year Reich.

Arlette Gondrée was a four-year old girl that day, and she has grown old with the teen-and-twenty soldiers who liberated her home and her town. But she is now the proprietress of the family café, and she has been there every June to greet those who return each year in dwindling numbers…

That’s the late Bill Bray and the late John Woodthorpe with Mme Gondrée (pictured at the link—M) on the seventieth anniversary. The Bénouville Bridge was known to Allied planners as the Pegasus Bridge, after the winged horse on the shoulder badge of British paratroopers. But since 1944 it has been called the Pegasus Bridge in France, too. And in the eight decades since June 6th, no D-Day veteran has ever had to pay for his drink at the Café Gondrée.

They were young, but they were not children. Ten years ago, I listened to President Obama explain from Brussels that the deserter he brought home from the Taliban in the days before the D-Day anniversary was just a “kid”. In fact, he was 28 years old. I remember walking through the Canadian graves at Bény-sur-Mer a few years ago. Over two thousand headstones, but only a handful of ages inscribed upon them: 22 years old, 21, 20…

But, unlike the deserter and traitor honoured by Obama, they weren’t “kids”, they were men.

Gott damn skippy they were, whatever their chronological age may have been—real men, of a stripe they just ain’t making any more of, to our enormous cost. How many times have I said it over lo, these many years: if we’d had to rely on today’s twee, pampered Manwomen to storm the Normandy beaches back in 1944, we’d all be singing Deutschland Über Alles as our national anthem—in the original Churman, natch.

Update! Say, did someone mention “real men” just now? Why yes, I do believe someone did at that.

D-Day: When Real Men Held The Moral High Ground
One of the most popular books in the 1980s was the satire “Real Men Don’t Eat Quiche.” It was a tongue-in-cheek homage to what even then was a perceived fading masculinity starting to infect our broader society.

One of the chapters listed “Historic dates in Real Man history.” Of June 6, 1944, better known as D-Day, it states: “150,000 Real Men storm Normandy beach.” In a way, I could end this piece right there, as I cannot offer a more fitting tribute to what occurred on those hallowed beaches 80 years ago today. But I will try. Because as the years pass, and the Greatest Generation fades to the point where soon they will be gone, this monumental event in the annals of war offers us both a remembrance of what was, and reflection of what we as a nation have become.

Sadly, one cannot help but think the goodwill and moral capital we so justifiably earned on this day of days and many others throughout that awful calamity that was the Second World War has been squandered, one ill-fated, ill-conceived act of military adventurism at a time. One can say that the advent of the American Empire could be traced to the sands of Normandy. And, as with all empires, we are destined to fall. We are, in fact, seeing the classic signs of decline today. Among them are the over-expansion of a nation’s military far beyond its own borders; we currently have nearly 800 bases in over 70 countries. Another is an insurmountable national debt; debt service is now eclipsing military spending. Another still is decadence at home; I’ll let you ponder this while the next “Drag Queen Story Hour” comes to your schools.

One must wonder, then, if any of the remaining D-Day veterans might take the measure of the country they were once willing to die for and find today’s America worth storming another Normandy Beach to preserve. I wonder.

What we do know, however, with absolute certainty is that a lot of real men did do incredible things on this day 80 years ago. They did it not for conquest, treasure, or vendetta, but rather to liberate a people they never knew, in countries they’d only heard about, from an oppressive force so evil it had to be destroyed. They met the challenge. And so we salute them all.

We do indeed, humbly and with utmost gratitude. Doughty men, valiant men, intrepid men, ordinary men—pride of the American heartland; scions of Flatbush Avenue, South Street, Orange County, Pittsburgh’s Polish Hill, Cleveland’s Broadway Avenue; from every sleepy hamlet’s Main Street, every jostling, jiving metropolis’s main stem, American men signed up for they knew not what, were transported they knew not where, and stood up manfully under a waking nightmare which no one who wasn’t there with them on that day of testing and abject horror can ever hope to comprehend.

Now most of those men have left us, one by one by one: their challenge accepted and met, their task completed, their mission nobly accomplished, their sacrifice redeemed. God forbid that I ever hear any shitlib utter the vapid, obnoxious phrase “toxic masculinity” in reference to the heroic men Reagan immortalized as “the boys of Pointe Du Hoc.” Should such an unforgivable indecency transpire in my presence, I refuse to be held liable for whatever I might say and/or do in response.

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Chip off the old block

“I don’t think there’s anything they wouldn’t do.”


Don Jr reels off so many incredibly tasty, dead-on-the-money quotes in this interview, there’s simply no way I could transcribe them all.  For his part, Tucker fires off plenty of well-aimed shots himself; both of them are top-notch rhetoricians, quick on their feet, and totally at ease under the heat of the bright TV-studio lights—a triple-threat skill set which makes their on-camera interaction truly a delight to behold.

Just watch the whole 38 minutes-plus of it, either here or over at the Renegades joint. Trust me, you won’t regret it. I swear, much as I like his dad—and I surely do, one hell of a lot—whenever I hear Trump the Younger speak about the shitty political situation, it sorta makes me wish he was running instead. The man is astute, articulate, insightful, and on point, each and every time.

Update! It suddenly occurs to me that, although he definitely inherited his father’s fearless, indomitable pugnacity, the most significant distinction between Don Jr’s attitude and his father’s is that, unlike his old man, Don Jr’s own impassioned reverence for ordered liberty American-style doesn’t seem to be adulterated with any of the all-too-common normalcy bias which insists—against all available evidence and the testimony of human history since Rome, at least—that there is still some way that our stolen nation, rights, and liberties can be reclaimed and restored without resort to unstinting, deadly violence against the Goosesteppin’ Left Hell-spawn that robbed us of that incalculably precious inheritance.

Trump Sr, whose abiding love for his country, its Founding ideals, and its people is simply beyond dispute, has been impeded by said normalcy bias. Now, he’s been rolled by the low, ugly expedient of having his unapologetic, heart-on-his-sleeve patriotism used as a weapon against him—by opprobrious, scurvy curs unfit to so much as lick the street-dirt off the soles of his fucking shoes.

As I’ve stubbornly maintained it would since 2016, Donald J Trump’s imperturbable belief in the basic goodness of a nation that long since ceased to exist turned out to be his Achilles’ Heel. Trump’s failure, mind, was not necessarily his fault, or not entirely so. He just couldn’t bring himself to believe that shitlibs might actually loathe America so intensely, that they could possibly be as just plain evil as all that. His credulous, almost child-like faith that, despite our disagreements, we all remain Americans at the end of the day has proved to be his undoing. Utimately, he’s not to be blamed nor despised for that naive, over-optimistic misperception, I don’t think; the Evil Left is.

A day which should never have dawned is now upon us: the dreadful day when faith, trust, belief in the essential decency of our (former) fellow Americans (now more aptly identified as TWANLOCs), and open-hearted patriotism have become weaknesses instead of strengths. It’s a calamity so awful, so horrendous, that a once-proud nation stands to be shattered by it, and that right soon.

I’ve said it so many times: no sane person on Our Side really wants the coming violence, fratricidal strife, and societal upheaval, and with very good reason, too. Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean it ain’t gonna happen—clearly, the Left does want it, which means that it will be forced on us, whether we like it or not. If Thursday’s phonus-balonus “conviction” of President Trump hasn’t made that sad fact abundantly clear, I can’t imagine what might.

We have sat on our duffs and watched in incredulous horror as, one by one, the Soap Box, the Ballot Box, and now the Jury Box have proved unequal to the task. We are now left with the last of the Four Boxes as our final, desperate hope. Verily, I wish with all my heart that it wasn’t so. But it is, to our neverending sorrow.

Moar Verdict fallout

Leave it to the ever-brilliant CatTurd to hit the Vichy GOpers with it like a brickbat to the kisser. It’s another damnable “Read more…” Tweet, so I’ll just skip the embedding and cut straight to the transcription chase.

Catturd ™

@catturd2

Dear Republican Party 

@GOP

 …

I don’t want to hear another damn word about Ukraine.

I don’t want to hear another damn word about Israel.

I don’t want to hear another damn word about GAZA.

I don’t want to hear another damn word about Taiwan.

I don’t want to hear another damn word about any other country except the USA, you America-last war pigs. 

The fascist Democrat Party has completely destroyed our country from within, we have a wide open border, and they’re shitting on the Constitution while you spineless, coward losers get rich on insider trading, rage tweet, and talk about your “principles.”

They’re literally arresting their political opponents and their lawyers and having kangaroo communists show trials – and you pitiful, worthless losers are doing absolutely nothing.

If you don’t have balls to fight for freedom – RESIGN!!!

At this late date, there’s little if any point to wagging my fingers in anybody’s face concerning the fact that the GOPe’s notorious unwillingness to show fight isn’t due to any lack of balls, but to the fact that they’re actually complicit. No matter; CatTurd’s general sentiment here remains valid, and the point is still worth making. Updates to follow…

Update! Our blog-bud Aesop brings the pain, bruise, and agony (to quote the inimitable American Dream, Dusty Rhodes) perfectly.

The meaning of today’s verdict is actually quite simple:

The Democrat Party hereby announces that they have formally seceded from the United States Of America.

This announcement, therefore, makes them nothing less, at best, than seditious criminals and rebellious traitors, and as such, liable to hanging or shooting on sight, wherever and whenever found, top to bottom, and coast to coast.

The only open question is not any longer whether there will be an open, shooting civil war, but when it will commence being a range with the firing line fully open in both directions.

That’s not an incitement to anyone, nor intended as any such thing; it’s merely a statement of facts.

Whether the nation rises up as one and purges the rot, or doesn’t, there is an immutable Truth smacking us all in the face:

America That Once Was Is 

ABSOLUTELY IRRETRIEVABLY OVER.

It didn’t die of natural causes. 

The Democratic Party Killed It.

All that remains to be seen, from now going forward, is whether We, the People, have the stones to hold them and their members accountable for the murder, round them up, and begin the mass hangings or shootings on sight such a calculated and treasonous criminal act demands.

If not, this was the moment when we began our irreversible slide into being Amerizuela, with all the trimmings, for years to decades.

Absitively, posolutely, indubitably so. You don’t have to like it, and when it comes right down to the nut-cutting, you really, really shouldn’t. You DO have to admit the inescapable truth of it, and disport yourselves accordingly.

And speaking of the Best Dressed Man in Wrestling, well, what the hey.

Y’know, I watched Dusty wrestle for years until his retirement from the ring, whereupon he joined Mean Gene Okerlund in the WCW broadcast booth as a blow-by-blow announcer, and I swear I think he was actually more entertaining on the mic than he was in the squared circle. Which, y’know, is really saying something.

Updated update! Don Surber, too, knows the score.

Of course they will send him to prison
Of course they convicted him. There is no justice in New York City. The Mafia proved that a century ago when it bought off the judges. The corruption runs deep and putrid in the city that never sleeps. Alvin the Chipmunk Bragg ran for prosecutor on a platform of letting criminals run rampant and bringing Donald Trump down. No one should be surprised by the 34 cries of guilty by a jury of liberal sheep.

New Yorkers love living in swill. They brag about their swill city and its diversity and rightly so.

There are black victims of violent crime. There are white victims of violent crime. There are Asian victims of violent crime. There are Hispanic victims of violent crime. There are Jewish victims of violent crime.

New Yorkers laugh and mock the victims because the city sides with the bad guys. Criminals no longer have to post bail. Businessmen who take out loans and repay them with interest, however, must post millions of dollars in bond to appeal a ridiculous verdict.

The clean and relatively crime-free city that Rudy Giuliani bequeathed to New Yorkers has gone back to rot.

New Yorkers are responsible for this. This is the life they chose. They elect the corrupt and communistic.

Judge Juan Merchan does their bidding because most New Yorkers hate decency and they hate the rule of law. This is a city that honors a career criminal and drug addict — George Floyd — while making the author of the Declaration of Independence a pariah.

All perfectly true and accurate, no argument to make from here, as far as it goes. Unfortunately, it’s worse than that though: nowadays, it applies not just to NYC alone, Don. Not by a long yard, it don’t. Surber waxes even more depressingly prophetic from there, before finally collapsing in an exhausted heap on the old reliable standby. To wit:

Judge Merchan deliberately gave Trump a trial riddled with errors that demand an appellate court to overturn him.

That won’t happen because everyone knows John Roberts is a pawn of the deep state and the trio of justices that Trump appointed to the high court fear the mob will go after their kids and their loved ones. That fear is well-founded. Why would a lower appellate court even take the case on?

Judge Merchan will put Trump in prison. He has to or the DNC’s checks to his daughter won’t clear the bank.

The state will proceed to confiscate all of Trump’s property — including Mar-a-Lago which will trigger a decades-long legal battle between Florida and New York, which will end when Floridians foolishly elect a Democrat governor.

The only hope the nation has left is to elect Trump president on November 5.

Dude, SRSLY?!? All the power, all the Überstadt muscle being flexed, the unabashed, in-your-face lawlessness and brazen criminality, extending from the Oval Office all the way down to the most benighted, semi-sentient shitlib NYC juror—yet somehow, some way, you think Trump is going to win the next sure-to-be-rigged “election”? Sorry—agreeable though it is to idly imagine, I still just can’t quite see it happening; as comforting fantasies go, it’s the pure, the blushful Hoppocrene. If that truly IS the only hope we have left, then in practical terms we have no hope at all.

Update to the updated update! It occurs to me that, even now, “What next?” is the wrong question. What Real Americans need to be asking themselves (and each other) is, “Okay, what the hell are we gonna do about this shit?” Think proactive, not reactive, people. Although defense might sometimes forestall defeat, it’s offense that wins the game. That mindset has been axiomatic with every great football coach since Vince Lombardi, every great general since at least George Patton.

One of the primary reasons the Confederacy’s Robert E Lee believed deep in his soul that his breakaway nation was foredoomed to ultimate defeat was the various cold, implacable realities that forced him and his boss President Jeff Davis to adopt the strategic defensive, rather than the offensive they both greatly preferred. The two great men discussed this very issue many times over the course of the war; neither of them was happy about it, but they never managed to find a way around their dilemna.

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Just in time for riot season!

St George of Fentanyl v2.0, the new Martyr Of Color (type: “UNARMED!”) whose wholly justified shooting will be used to spark the upcoming Summer Of (mostly peaceful) Love v2.0.

The Press Are Pushing a New George Floyd, and the Headlines Are Dangerous and Shameless
The shooting death of Dexter Reed by police in Chicago has captured the attention of the mainstream press, and they aren’t exactly being honest in their coverage of the incident. Desperate for a new George Floyd, perhaps because it’s an election year, news outlets are shamelessly misleading about the incident.

In March, Reed was pulled over and approached by police. Body cam footage shows one officer asking him to roll the window down and then attempting to open the door after Reed tried to roll the window up. It’s at that point that shots ring out and the officers are seen running away to take cover. A gunfight ensues and with Reed stumbling out of the car, the officers discharge their weapons again.

While the press has reported that the officers fired “96 times” as a way to sensationalize the situation, 11 of the shots were actually from Reed, with his initial burst striking an officer in the arm. He can be seen bleeding on the extended body camera footage.

Misinformation about the situation began to be reported immediately, including from Reed’s family.

“If he was supposed to get pulled over for a traffic stop, why do they have four guns pointed at him? He was scared. And after he was already on the ground there, they still put him in cuffs instead of checking to see if he’s breathing. They shot to him 96 times and reload the clip three times,” Reed’s sister Porscha Banks said during a Tuesday press conference.

As the footage clearly shows, guns were only pointed at Reed after he refused to comply and started to roll his window up. The officer who was conducting the stop first approached the vehicle in a normal manner. Seeing Reed’s gun through the window may have prompted him to draw his weapon. There’s also the fact that Reed was out on pre-trial release for a variety of violent felonies related to a shooting he allegedly committed. Did the officers run his tag and know who he was? That could be another reason the officers were overly cautious in drawing their weapons after Reed refused to comply.

Regardless, you would expect a family member to defend their loved one. What shouldn’t be expected is for the press to be so incredibly irresponsible in its reporting.

Rilly? Pray tell, WHY would it not be expected, given everything we all already know about the lying Enemedia?

Much is being made about the number of times the officers fired and the fact that Reed no longer had the gun once he exited the vehicle. Both points are incredibly misleading. Once a suspect opens fire and strikes an officer, any expectation that the use of force will be limited goes out the window. At that point, the mission is to neutralize the deadly threat fully. No officer is going to count the number of shots they fire in the heat of the moment to make it look better for the press. Further, there would have been no way to know whether Reed was still armed or not after he exited the vehicle and began to move around it. That is hindsight that has no place in a fair analysis of what occurred. 

I have written many pieces criticizing the police over the years. My position has never been blind support but to judge every incident based on its own set of facts. This was a justified shooting by every metric, yet one would be forgiven for speculating that members of the press want violence to occur in response to it. Why else would they go so far to cover up what actually happened?

Well, actually, I can think of several possible alternate reasons for it, foremost among them being that for them, lying is so ingrained as to be nearly an instinctive reaction to any and every situation, regardless of whether it helps their cause or no. And if you don’t like that one, I have others.

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Drill, Baby, Drill!

The answer.

The question: how we dig ourselves out of the massive economic disaster that awaits us?

Government needs to be reined in, but that will not solve the massive problem. Drilling will.

Mike has a category for “Drill Now!” for a reason.

Tax receipts will pay down the debt. An infusion of cash will build an economy akin to the economic prosperity after WW2. Economic prosperity will fuel freedom and liberty, just as freedom and liberty fuel economic prosperity.

Now you know why “they” oppose the exploitation of our natural resources.
Now you know why “they” created the global warming scam..

‘Drill, Baby, Drill!’ Will Secure American Prosperity For The Twenty First Century

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Forgive and Memory-hole

Largest multicountry COVID study links vaccines to potential adverse effects

A new study on COVID-19 vaccines that looked at nearly 100 million vaccinated individuals affirmed the vaccines’ previously observed links to increased risks for certain adverse effects including myocarditis and Guillain-Barré syndrome.

We just need to forgive each other and give ourselves permission to forgive ourselves, too. Mistakes were made on all sides and we all just wanted what’s best for everyone. Those who can’t forgive others for decisions which were made on the basis of the best science available at the time are clinging to their bitterness and need to be watched lest their hatred erupt into terroristic violence.

DEFY them

Wayne Allyn Root asks the question that’s on all our minds.

WAYNE ROOT: I Say Out Loud What Others Only Whisper: Is There Any Patriot in America Who Isn’t Thinking Supreme Court Justices are Being Bribed, or Blackmailed?

Well, if there are, there damned well shouldn’t be by now, and the latest betrayal by supposed “conservatives” Roberts and Coney Island Whitefish-Barrett ought to once and for all put paid to it.

This just isn’t normal. It makes no sense. Conservatives have the edge. Not just 5-4…but a safe, overwhelming 6-3 edge. We should be winning every major Supreme Court case.

And yet we keep losing with the most obvious, clear-cut, life-or-death-of-America cases. Cases that should be slam dunks. Cases where it’s so clear that no conservative, or patriot in all of America would vote against us. Cases where a vote against us is a vote for the intentional destruction of America.

Yet yesterday our 6-3 edge at the Supreme Court became a 5-4 loss in the most obvious, simple, clear-cut case in history. Again. Just like Obamacare (twice). Just like allowing illegal aliens to count in the U.S. Census that determines who represents us in Congress.

Yesterday, the Supremes voted 5-4 against Texas and A) in favor of the insane, radical, Marxist madmen of the Biden administration…B) in favor of open borders and against the Sovereignty of the United States of America…C) in favor of the intentional destruction of America…D) against States Rights enshrined in the U.S. Constitution…and E) in favor of leaving the American people completely helpless to stop a mass invasion of our country.

Who could possibly vote against the interests of America and a secure border? Who could possibly vote against Texas and ignore States Rights? Who could rule that a state and its legal American citizens have no right to defend against a mass invasion of criminals? Who could possibly vote that as millions of military-age males from Hamas, Hezbollah, MS-13 and our mortal enemy China pour into our border, a state cannot even put up razor wire to try to slow the invasion down?

America-hating Leftists, TreasonCrats, and the fake Uniparty “opposition” in cahoots with them, that’s who—and absolutely, positively nobody else.

Meanwhile, though, the Republic of Texas courageously carries on defending the nation against the vile depredations of its own illegitimate ruling junta.

SHOWDOWN: Texas National Guard Responds to Supreme Court Order by Installing More Razor Wire (VIDEO)
The Texas National Guard on Tuesday responded to the Supreme Court’s order allowing the Biden Regime to cut/remove razor wire installed along the southern border by installing more razor wire.

The US Supreme Court on Monday sided with the Biden Regime and allowed Border Patrol agents to remove razor wire installed on the Texas-Mexico border.

Gov. Greg Abbott (R) previously installed about 30 miles of razor wire at the Texas-Mexico border near Eagle Pass to stop the flood of illegal aliens being let in by the Biden administration.

In October Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton filed a lawsuit against the Biden Regime regarding their cutting razor wire at the border.

This is the 9th time that the Supreme Court has sided with the Biden Regime out of 14 emergency applications.

Texas Governor Greg Abbott and Attorney General Ken Paxton on Monday evening vowed to defy the Supreme Court’s ruling on razor wire at the southern border.

“The Supreme Court’s temporary order allows Biden to continue his illegal effort to aid the foreign invasion of America. The destruction of Texas’s border barriers will not help enforce the law or keep American citizens safe. This fight is not over, and I look forward to defending our state’s sovereignty.” Ken Paxton said.

Good on ya then, sir. Gird your loins, though, because I fear that very, very soon now, the war you’re currently fighting will burst forth from the civilized confines of the courtroom and strictly intellectual/verbal debate and take on a more solid, physical shape. Along those lines, Aesop has some excellent suggestions as to how you might proceed.

Dear Treasonous Traitors: Fuck You. Strong Message Follows.
Since SCOTUS has ruled – beyond and against any legal reasoning worthy of the name – that the U.S. Constitution does not apply to Texas, Texas should ratify that decision and return the favor, in spades.

There should be consequences to ruling a state is outside the protection of the Constitution under which it joined the republic.

All representatives of Texas outside its geographic boundaries should be recalled to the state forthwith.

1) How many divisions does SCOTUS have?

2) Texas should arrest on the spot any federal agent attempting to cut, remove, or displace any obstacle Texas has erected within the state’s boundaries, or otherwise thwart prevention by Texas of the criminal invasion of their state, and hold any such arrestees without bail indefinitely, for insurrection and treason.

3a) Any of them who are current residents of Texas should be prosecuted to the fullest extent of Texas law, in batches if necessary, and imprisoned in the state’s penitentiaries forthwith, for the entirety of sentences received, without any possibility of leniency or parole. If a court decides on the death penalty, a ten- or twelve-place scaffold should suffice, to save time. Pour encourager les autres.

3b) Any of them with residency outside of Texas should be held without trial until the U.S. re-establishes diplomatic relations with Texas. Outside, behind barbed wire, in their underpants, 24/7.

3c) Any military personnel who attempt to enter or leave their bases should be similarly interred as in 3b, but given normal treatment under the Geneva Convention in lieu of formal treaty.

3d) Any personnel attempting to leave military reservations within the state under arms, by land or air, should be exterminated with extreme prejudice, and those bases seized and occupied. As long as they stand down and remain neutral and unreinforced, they should remain unmolested as is. Any act of war upon Texas from such installations in any manner or to any degree voids any such guarantee. If they elect to road march on foot out of state territory, unarmed, and leaving all vehicles and equipment behind, they should be given parole and safe conduct to the state’s borders. Any future return to the state under arms subjects them to immediate execution upon capture.

4) Any other federal agents, officers, or employees, lifting so much as a finger in assistance of the treasonous, seditious, and criminal conspiracy to aid and abet the invasion of the state of Texas, from within the boundaries of the state of Texas, should receive the same treatment. Tears that would be shed over any death, let alone massacre, of federal agents attempting to interfere or resist, anywhere: zero.

As Aesop knows, we are now far along the path to Ft Sumter v2.0, thanks to the usurper-State currently roosting, Nazgul-like, in the dismal swamps of Mordor On The Potomac. It’s all too obvious that FederalGovCo and its orcs will not turn aside or back down, so emboldened and suffused with confidence are they of ultimate victory over We Duh Sheeple. At this late stage of the game, I can descry no likely outcome that can avert massive bloodshed, misery, and woe.

So be it, then. May the authors of this needless calamity—from the highest to the most lowly of them—all have such extraordinary pain and suffering inflicted upon them as to ensure that many, many generations will pass before another such attack on our liberty and Constitutionally-enumerated rights is contemplated again.

Update! Another clarion call to arms is issued, from a source which may surprise you.

Tucker Calls For ‘Men Of Texas’ To Defend The Border
Daily Caller co-founder Tucker Carlson called on the “men of Texas” to protect their state on Monday, following a verdict from the Supreme Court that allowed the Biden Administration to remove border wire.

Carlson took to Twitter to claim “everyone in power” has allegedly “decided to destroy the country” in regards to allowing the border crisis to continue. Carlson additionally questioned where the “men of Texas” were, asking why they were not “protecting their state and nation.”

“So it’s unanimous: everyone in power, from the White House, to the hedge fund managers, to the Supreme Court of the United States has decided to destroy the country by allowing it to be invaded. That leaves the population to defend itself. Where are the men of Texas? Why aren’t they protecting their state and the nation?” Carlson tweeted out.

We shall soon see if the “men of Texas” remain truly men, and if Texas remains truly Texas.

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CF Glossary

ProPol: Professional Politician

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

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

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