GIVE TIL IT HURTS!

Oh, for the love of…

Just put a sock in it already, whiny-ass nigger bitch.

Would you believe that in the entirety of human history, no one has been oppressed as much as Michelle Obama? It’s true. Whenever she gets in front of a microphone, she can’t help but complain about how unfairly she’s been treated, how terrible white people are, or how racist our country is. She paints herself as chronically oppressed, endlessly scrutinized, and forever burdened by a country that never treated her fairly. I know it must not be easy having fame, fortune, a bunch of multimillion-dollar homes, and all that. It must be really, really brutal. The routine has become predictable, and her latest appearances only reinforce the sense that she carries a deep resentment toward white America, while insisting she’s the one who never got a fair shake.

Last month, in an interview with ABC’s Robin Roberts to promote her new book, she literally had the gall to claim that people unfairly scrutinized her while she was in the White House. Roberts began by quoting Michelle’s own words.

“You said, ‘We were all too aware that as the first black couple, we couldn’t afford any missteps.’ And you also say that as a black woman, ‘I was under a particularly white hot glare.’ Did you feel that?”

“For sure,” Michelle replied. “You can’t afford to get anything wrong because you didn’t get the, and at least until the country got to know us, we didn’t get the grace that I think some other families have gotten.”

Anyone who lived through the Obama years remembers the media environment. The media swooned over Barack’s speeches and treated Michelle like a cross between a fashion icon and a national therapist. Editors placed them on magazine covers every time they could justify it. Journalists fawned over Barack’s wardrobe, his aura, and even the crease in his pants, all while ignoring scandal after scandal after scandal. But, yeah, sure, let’s talk about how they were held to some fantasy standard that no first couple ever had to meet before or since.

Michelle Obama doesn’t know what unfair scrutiny is. She wouldn’t be able to tolerate a fraction of the scrutiny that the Trump family had to endure daily. Reporters attacked Melania for everything from her shoes to her accent. They smeared Trump’s children for no reason beyond their last name. Even the Bush family took heat, including the teenage daughters who never sought public attention. Those families took incoming fire every hour of every day.

Yet Michelle keeps insisting she lived through hardship that no other first family could possibly understand. Cry me a river. That narrative has become her brand.

Matt’s closing ‘graph is a killer.

Here’s a reality check, Michelle: You’re not a victim. You never were. The left canonized you the second you hit the national stage, and you’ve spent every moment since trashing America and demonizing white people — enough with the performative oppression routine. You’ve built an obscenely lucrative post-White House empire selling a completely fabricated narrative of “constant struggle” while swimming in wealth, worshipful media coverage, and cultural influence that 99.9% of Americans will never experience. Your sycophantic media allies breathlessly amplify every manufactured grievance as gospel, but your own venomous words keep exposing what this really is: barely concealed contempt and racism wrapped in designer victimhood.

So let’s tot it all up, then:

  • Not just one but three (3) palatial mansions in tony, exclusive locales;
  • A no-show job back in Chicago, arranged for her by her “husband” the Senator, which paid 350k/year;
  • 24/7 Secret Service protection for the rest of her useless life;
  • More money than she can ever possibly spend even if she just started lighting handfuls of it on fire and throwing it into the street to burn;
  • Anything and everything she could want, hers merely for the asking;
  • A large staff of hairdressers, makeup artists, chefs, maids, chauffeurs, personal attendants, and miscellaneous go-fers, knob-polishers, and rumpswabs for whom her every word is their command

This is a woman who, for most of her adult life, has never wanted for anything whatsoever, has never known need or hunger or poverty or lack. A spacious, lovely home, designer clothes, shoes, jewelry, and purses—all hers, without her ever even having to go fetch any of it—she has “people” to send out on such lowly, menial tasks, see. She travels in the most rarified circles, keeps the most exalted company, rubs elbows with the rich and famous..

The fanciest restaurants, the finest wines, the best seats in the theater, the concert hall, or the arena…and all she has to do to get them is simply nod her head at the right time, in the right place, to the right person. Nothing more taxing or obsequious than that. The people in charge of these amenities WANT her to have them, for no more complex or justifiable reason than that she is who she is, knows who she knows, and hangs out with all the right people. Her taste, in everything from sports cars to cashmere sweaters, is beyond reproach; an approving word for a product, a service, or a facility murmured into the right ears can keep a business humming busily along for a year…as a negative assessment can shut one down forever.

All this finery, this pampering, this sycophancy, flattery, and preferential treatment, this carefree, luxurious lifestyle—no part of it either earned or, really, deserved, but all of it hers nonetheless, most of it free of charge—yet STILL this ingrate bitches, she whines, she moans, she kvetches about how terribly, terribly HARRRUD De Wite Mayne has made life for her.

Meanwhile, for all her claimed victimization by Rayciss!© White Debbil oppressors, she could search arduously every minute of the rest of her life and never find one single ghetto-blighted soul who wouldn’t jump at the chance to exchange places with her, the blind, self-obsessed cretin.

What must life be like with one so bitter, so unswervingly determined to be unhappy always, so intently focused on the black storm clouds in the far distance that she’s totally incapable of seeing the silver lining right in front of her nose? How could ANY normal, sane person live with such a bleak, cheerless sort? For that matter, how does such a morose person live with herself?

I never imagined it could be so, but it would seem that Big Mike is an even more annoying, insufferable twatwaffle than his/her/its light-in-the-loafers “husband” is.

To make her shit at all worth putting up with, she’d have to be funnier than Dave Chappelle; smarter and more eloquent than Thomas Sowell; more talented than Wynton Marsalis; more graceful than the Nicholas brothers; better-looking than Billy Dee Williams at 32; and more personable than Louis Armstrong. Alas for poor Moochelle, she comes up way, WAY short in every category.

Just once,  just ONE. FUCKING. TIME in her miserable, oxygen-thieving existence, I wish I could see some burly, ill-tempered, and yes, WHITE project foreman hand her a shovel, direct her precious ass into a deep, muddy ditch, and command her to start digging and to go on digging until he specifically tells her to STOP. OH, what a beautiful sight that would be.

All is well, all is well!

He’s awfully sanguine for a guy with such a feeble grasp of the actual, y’kow, historical facts.

Sorry, Democrats — No Civil War is Coming

No, probably not. Not while Real Americans remain content to sit passively back and permit Violent Left mountebanks to harrass them, torment them, murder them at will, and just generally run roughshod over them, makig no response to such abuse more devastating than filing another lawsuit, penning another windy op-ed threatening dire repercussions such as frowning angrily in their general direction, and of course Voating Harderer!© at them than ever before.

I shit you not, our Founding Fathers wouldn’t deign to piss in our mouths if our gums were on fire, we’ve become so gorram weak, evolved, and contemptible these days. Fret not, though, final victory is at hand. Yeppers, after rancorous internecine debates, investigations by blue-ribbon Congressional panels, and blood-curdling threats from Ms Lindsey Graham, we’ve got ’em right where they want us!

In 1776, American colonists, despairing that their rights as British citizens were being trampled upon by their overbearing king, George III, decided to secede from the British Empire. Thomas Jefferson wrote down their grievances in the Declaration of Independence. Just a few of them include the cutting off of trade, imposing taxes without consent, depriving the people of trial by jury, suspending colonial legislatures, and waging war on the colonists. I think Jefferson’s best argument was, “He has plundered our seas, ravaged our coasts, burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people.” Yep, sounds as though they had reasons to rebel.

In 1861, following the election of Abraham Lincoln, wealthy landowners pushed eleven Southern states, where slavery was legal, to secede from the United States. Much of the rhetoric claimed that the war was about states’ rights, but that was mostly a smokescreen. Unlike the rebellion against King George, these people had no grievances — only fears that slavery would be abolished, ending the free labor on which their economic system depended.

Yeah, no. NOT about States’ Rights, you protest? A”smokescreen,” you aver? Poppycock, sayeth moi.

Of course, CW v1.0 anti-historians like the above yayhoo are extremely eager to dismiss States’ Rights as one of the leading causes for the War Of Northern Aggression, likely because the complex realities make it much more difficult to saddle up the “all about slavery!” hobbyhorse and ride it into the fucking ground.

So just never you mind, you RAYCISS!!!©, that no more than 30%, AT MOST, of Southerners ever actually owned slaves. Nor did most of them own plantations, land, those lovely antebellum mansions as seen in Gone With The Wind, a pair of shoes, or much of anything else, frankly.

This being so, presumably the aforementioned dirt poor, slave-deprived sons of Dixie wouldn’t likely have been just wildly enthusiastic about packing up Grampa’s old shootin’ arn; some moth-eaten scraps of clothing, shoes if he had any; a small haversack of acorns, hardtack, grain, and two=three strips of moldy possum jerky, and go a-traipsing off to war in defense of a “peculiar institution” he’d never had much to do with his entire life long.

Of course there were several other factors which our disingenuous “scholar” above appears not to know much about either. Maybe he could try boning up on, say, cotton warehouse receipts sometime; that oughta be enough to give him a solid head-start before he begins working his way up to the more complicated, obscure stuff.

As we all know, after every war the victors write the history in whatever manner suits them, forever painting themselves as saintly, noble, and entirely blameless while their defeated foes were in fact ravening demons in human shape. But dammit, do they have to be so blasted sanctimonious and just plain obnoxious about it every single time? Having grown up in the South, I can confirm that after having this fictitious twaddle crammed down one’s gullet without remit can wax pretty durned wearisome over time.

Those unshod, dirty-faced, ill-nourished field hands, sharecroppers, and sundry ragamuffins had another rationale for fighting the Yankee aggressor, surely a more compelling reason than the remote, otherworldly principle of States’ Rights.

This rationale, not particularly well-known even among ardent students of Civil War lore, reveals itself in a brief exchange shouted across the soon-to-crumble MLR during a lull in the horrific Battle of Fredericksburg, betwixt one of Lee’s Weary Boys and his Union counterpart. Asked by the Bluebelly why he was fighting, Johnny Reb hollered in reply: Because y’all are down here, Yank, that’s why!

Kinda says it all, wouldn’t you say? Viewed from this angle, the long, slow slide into war, anguish, and incomprehensible horror starts to look disquietingly familiar, doesn’t it? That plainspoken Confederate lad didn’t give a fiddler’s fuck about slavery; he took up arms strictly to protect his home, hearth, and kinfolk against an invading army conducting a war of aggression. So it was for the vast majority of Southern troops as well: they wanted nothing more extravagant or outlandish than to just be letf alone by an overbearing, rapacious, and too-powerful Federal megalith bent on ruling and not governing.

Naaahhhh, not familiar to the contemporary ear at all, is it? As far back as the mid-1800s, the pattern was set, the trend established, the die cast. By the turn of the 20th century the fork in the road which leads ever down and down into tyranny, despotism, and immiseration had been taken. Unfortunately, it’s a dark, narrow, poorly marked lane with many twistings and turnings, a one-way route on which there is no easy way to reverse course and return to Consitutionally-correct governance again. Not without a great deal of pain, bereavement, and injury to body, spirit, well-being…,just about everything you can imagine, really.

Worst of all, Tyranny Road had been mapped for us long ago, drawn expertly, exactingly, and in great detail for us by our forebears—a deadly highway to Hell which our Founding Fathers cautioned us repeatedly to keep ourselves well way from. it is to our eternal discredit that we sxtuidly refused to heed the warnings o our sagacious ancestors—not just one single time, but again and again and again and again. Our heedless, stubborn mistake was a century in the making, and was in no wise excusable as merely a fleeting relaxation of vigilance, a moment’s inattention, a minor stumble in which the only harm done is to our pride.

Nope, not hard;y, none of the above. This was a blunder of titanic proportions, a ruinous act of wanton negligence and hubris which stands to cost us absolutely everything.Nor is this  just “one of those things” that can happen to anybody, really. This was a heedless discarding of certain hard-to-come-by jewels (Freedom? Limited government? Consent of the governed? Unalienable rights? Government officials as servants, not masters?) which are beyond price, purchased for us by generations of Americans going waaaay back.

These extraordinary gifts were meant to be passed down to succeeding generations who would likewise appreciate them, nurture them, safeguard them, maybe expand them if possible. They would then be passed down again in due course. Thus did the world turn, for many generations.

The Big Q: Were we duly grateful for the unique legacy freely handed down to us? Did we strive ceaselessly to be mindful of the gift we had been given? To give humble thanks for the good people who worked so tirelessly, sacrificed so selflessly, gave of themselves so unstintingly, to bequeath such a bounty to us? Were we diligent in making ourselves worthy of this munificence?

Ohhh, if only.

I didn’t bother with the rest of this reeking shitpile of an article; the author having screwed the Civil War pooch so thoroughly in the opening ‘graphs, I just couldn’t see any reason to slog through the rest of it. I would like to note, by way of wrapping up this post, an additional related point:

Contra the self-serving version fabricated by the Yankee victors, the Confederate states wished to leave the Union peaceably, and firmly believed in their absolute right to do so, considering this to be so obviously in agreement with the precepts of America’s Founding documents as to make further explanation tantamount to a personal insult.

As no less august a personage than President Jefferson Davis said in his First Inaugural Address, the Confederacy bore the US government, its President, nor even the people of Yankeeland no ill will, and wished no harm to them. The address begins by spelling out the new Confederate nation’s philosophical roots in the ideals of the Founding Fathers.

Looking forward to the speedy establishment of a permanent government to take the place of this, and which by its greater moral and physical power will be better able to combat with the many difficulties which arise from the conflicting interests of separate nations, I enter upon the duties of the office to which I have been chosen with the hope that the beginning of our career as a Confederacy may not be obstructed by hostile opposition to our enjoyment of the separate existence and independence which we have asserted, and, with the blessing of Providence, intend to maintain. Our present condition, achieved in a manner unprecedented in the history of nations, illustrates the American idea that governments rest upon the consent of the governed, and that it is the right of the people to alter or abolish governments whenever they become destructive of the ends for which they were established.

The declared purpose of the compact of Union from which we have withdrawn was “to establish justice, insure domestic tranquillity, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessing of liberty to ourselves and our posterity;” and when, in the judgment of the sovereign States now composing this Confederacy, it had been perverted from the purposes for which it was ordained, and had ceased to answer the ends for which it was established, a peaceful appeal to the ballot-box declared that so far as they were concerned, the government created by that compact should cease to exist. In this they merely asserted a right which the Declaration of Independence of 1776 had defined to be inalienable; of the time and occasion for its exercise, they, as sovereigns, were the final judges, each for itself. The impartial and enlightened verdict of mankind will vindicate the rectitude of our conduct, and He who knows the hearts of men will judge of the sincerity with which we labored to preserve the Government of our fathers in its spirit. The right solemnly proclaimed at the birth of the States, and which has been affirmed and reaffirmed in the bills of rights of States subsequently admitted into the Union of 1789, undeniably recognize in the people the power to resume the authority delegated for the purposes of government. Thus the sovereign States here represented proceeded to form this Confederacy, and it is by abuse of language that their act has been denominated a revolution. They formed a new alliance, but within each State its government has remained, the rights of person and property have not been disturbed. The agent through whom they communicated with foreign nations is changed, but this does not necessarily interrupt their international relations.

Ayup, seems clear enough to me. Even this slightly more bellicose pre-war speech still commends the olive branch over the bayonet.

It requires but a cursory examination of the Constitution of the United States; but a partial knowledge of its history and of the motives of the men who formed it, to see how utterly fallacious it is to ascribe to them the purpose of interfering with the domestic institutions of any of the States. But if a disrespect for that instrument, a fanatical disregard of its purposes, should ever induce a majority, however large, to seek by amending the Constitution, to pervert it from its original object, and to deprive you of the equality which your fathers bequeathed to you, I say let the star of Mississippi be snatched from the constellation to shine by its inherent light, if it must be so, through all the storms and clouds of war.

I say to you here as I have said to the Democracy of New York, if it should ever come to pass that the Constitution shall be perverted to the destruction of our rights so that we shall have the mere right as a feeble minority unprotected by the barrier of the Constitution to give an ineffectual negative vote in the Halls of Congress, we shall then bear to the federal government the relation our colonial fathers did to the British crown, and if we are worthy of our lineage we will in that event redeem our rights even if it be through the process of revolution. And it gratifies me to be enabled to say that no portion of the speech to which I have referred was received with more marked approbation by the Democracy there assembled than the sentiment which has just been cited. I am happy also to state that during the past summer I heard in many places, what previously I had only heard from the late President Pierce, the declaration that whenever a Northern army should be assembled to march for the subjugation of the South, they would have a battle to fight at home before they passed the limits of their own State, and one in which our friends claim that the victory will at least be doubtful.

Now, as in 1851, I hold separation from the Union by the State of Mississippi to be the last remedy—the final alternative. In the language of the venerated Calhoun I consider the disruption of the Union as a great though not the greatest calamity. I would cling tenaciously to our constitutional Government, seeing as I do in the fraternal Union of equal States the benefit to all and the fulfillment of that high destiny which our fathers hoped for and left it for their sons to attain. I love the flag of my country with even more than a filial affection. Mississippi gave me in my boyhood to her military service. For many of the best years of my life I have followed that flag and upheld it on fields where if I had fallen it might have been claimed as my winding sheet. When I have seen it surrounded by the flags of foreign countries, the pulsations of my heart have beat quicker with every breeze which displayed its honored stripes and brilliant constellation. I have looked with veneration on those stripes as recording the original size of our political family and with pride upon that constellation as marking the family’s growth; I glory in the position which Mississippi’s star holds in the group; but sooner than see its lustre dimmed—sooner than see it degraded from its present equality—would tear it from its place to be set even on the perilous ridge of battle as a sign round which Mississippi’s best and bravest should gather to the harvest-home of death.

Bold mine, and wholly dispositive.

The claim that the uniquely American concept of States’ Rights was not a primary cause of the first Civil War is laughably spurious. To disregard said concept’s crucial importance to the Founding Fathers as one of the strongest bulwarks against the establishment of tyrannical government in America is to be historically illiterate. To contend that Jefferson Davis was ever anything but A) a conscientious, ruminative patriot who reverenced his former country, and B) a reluctant secessionist who had to be all but dragged into rejecting the grotesque parody of itself the US government had become, is the mark of either a perfidious liar, an ignoramus, or a self-beclowning fool.

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Turducken dismissed

Ooops ooops oooopsie.

US gov’t admits F-35 is a failure
With some wonky, hard to decipher language, a recent GAO report concluded the beleaguered jet will never meet expectations

Nearly a quarter century after the Pentagon awarded Lockheed Martin the contract to develop the Joint Strike Fighter Program into the F-35, the government finally admitted the jet will never live up to Lockheed’s ambitious promises — used to sell the $2 trillion boondoggle to nearly 20 countries around the world.

By admitting that the program cannot deliver the jets that were promised is really an admission that the entire project is a failure. The implications of that could be profound beyond the money that has been wasted throughout the past quarter century. There are 19 countries that either already are, or will shortly, operate F-35s after buying them from the United States. Several countries like the United Kingdom, Norway, and Italy have been a part of the program well before Lockheed Martin won the contract to develop the F-35. These countries have invested heavily in the program with the expectation that they would receive the most combat capable aircraft in history. All have seen their costs rise throughout the years and now they find out that the jets will never live up to the hype.

So, in addition to being a military disaster, the F-35 many also prove to be a foreign relations disaster as well. F-35 boosters in the United States sold the jet to the leaders of these countries with elaborate pitches of the combat capabilities they planned to deliver. There were also promises made early in the process about the program’s affordability, which seem comical today. The next time an American attempts to sell a “transformative” weapon abroad, they shouldn’t be terribly surprised if a potential customer expresses skepticism. F-35 customers have paid a fortune above the quoted price, receiving only a fraction of what was promised. The United States may find a shrinking market for weapons exports in the years ahead.

This should be a moment of deep reflection for the entire national security establishment. The F-35 was never going to live up to expectations because its very concept was deeply flawed. Trying to build one jet that could serve as a multi-role aircraft to meet the needs of just a single military branch is a highly risky proposition. When you try to build a single jet to meet the multi-role needs of at least 15 separate militaries, while also being a global jobs program and political patronage scheme, you get a $2 trillion albatross.

But…but…but…WAIT!! You mean to tell me that “one aize fits all” never fits anything? That the much-ballyhooed “all-purpose” tools, hunting-fishing-camping gear, and kitchen contraptions rarely function even semi-adequately at ONE purpose? That those mini-trucks (ie, Ford Ranger, Chevy WhateverTheFuck) that were en vogue for a while there weren’t actually very good pick-em-up trucks (what with their short, narrow, shallow cargo area; anemic powerplant; lack of towing/hauling capacity, and other shortcomings) but performed even worse as cars, owing to their uncomfortable seats; Spartan interior appointments; godawful ergonomics, and sundry other “creature comforts” that would make Torquemada himself blush to contemplate, handling even a homebuilt Go-Kart wuuld sneer at; and harsh, bruising ride?

So now we are to accept that those so-called enduro “dual-purpose” bikes—built to impersonate a lean, mean, motocross machine, but also overly gussied-up with the mandatory head, tail, and brake lights, turn signals, and horn that make the “enduro” machines (barely) street-legal, plus generously padded two-up seats, non-cleated footpegs that seem to actively draw mud like a lamp does bugs, and mediocre semi-knobby tires which were useless in the woods and actually hazardous on pavement—pig-in-a-poke motorcycles some people were foolish enough to shell out for in the erroneous belief they were getting the best of both worlds, although the painful truth was that these “dual-purpose” bikes were every bit as shitty in the dirt as they were on the street?

I can’t so much as hear or read “F-35 Thunderbolt II” nowadays without remembering all the aforementioned hunks of junk, I really can’t. The one and only safe assumption to make any time some slicky-boy salesjerk starts in telling you that this car, bike, truck, whatever can really do it all! is that no, it can’t do ANYTHING very well. And with that blinding flash of insight and enlightenment you take to your heels and head for the hills with great alacrity, before your Newest Bestest Buddy here at Auto/Cycle/Truck/Camping/Tool World© can draw breath and flick out his forked tongue to hiss another fucking gigantic lie.

What, the USAF design/procurement doofi didn’t think designing, engineering, and building a new military aircraft was tough enough as it was? They thought it would be just a super-neat idea to work up a 5th generation all-weather day-night intercepter/CAS/attack-bomber/air-supremacy strike-fighter from scratch, a virtuoso airborne Death From Above dealer-outer complete with

  • Invisible to radar Stealth construction
  • STOL-VSTOL-STOVL capability
  • Designed and built robustly enough to survive multitudinous man-and-machine-kiling catapult launches and arrester-wire traps which are the standard fare of life on an aircraft carrier
  • Bleeding-edge avionics, comms, and electronic-warfare suites also tough enough to ditto
  • Supersonic flight, multi-G rate of climb and turn, extremely high ceiling
  • Solid gold, platinum, and authentic diamond EVERYDAMNEDTHING
  • So much other cool, ultra-futuristic shite you just can’t even

Although I’ve poked a goodish amount of fun at the poor F35, I did rein it in at least somewhat, figuring that, given five-six years to get all the inevitable bugs worked out, the Turducken might still turn out to be a durn good plane despite…well, pretty much EVERYthing. After all, the old familiar tale of the puny, weak-kneed, sickly kid down the block who eventually grows up to be a sturdy, capable adult is applicable to way more than just airplanes, y’know.

For instinks: I remember when the H-D Evolution engine came out, back in—what, 84, 85, thereabouts? Hawked for several years pre-release by Harley bigwigs as the most wonderful thing since sliced bread, the Evo-powered bikes turned out to be…mehhh. not too good. After years of looking forward to H-D’s first redesign/upgrade since a consortium of H-D execs headed by Vaughn Beals had bought Harley-D back from the despised AMF wreckers who had been running the last American motorcycle manufacturer into the ground since 1970*, this spanking new Evolution motor turned out to be a SERIOUS disappointment to pretty much everybody but the dastardly fiends at Yamazukisaki Corp Co, Inc.

Leaky, underpowered, unreliable, chattering and clanking from the valve train louder than even the AMF Shovelheads, the vaunted Evo powerplant nearly sank beneath the crushing weight of its own inadequacy before the Milwaukee brain-trust could so much as furrow their brows, scratch their heads, and mutter bilious imprecations. But after a few seriously rocky years years, the kinks had all been ironed out, the bugs squashed, and HEY PRESTO! Finally, the Evo had lived up fully to the typhoon of hype to become what, in my opinion, was and stil is the absolute best engine Harley has ever made, or ever will make.

And then there’s a story pretty much every worth-his-salt military history buff knows: the true-life saga of North American Aviation’s iconic P51 Mustang. Initially burdened with an Allison not-turbocharger-equipped engine, a long-since proven dog of an engine, the Mustang was an allegedly aerodynamic flying turd which was slow, not especially maneuverable, saddled with a piss-poor rate of climb, a relatively low ceiling, and truly abysmal performance at what meager altitude it could achieve. Unsurprisingly, next to the rough-and-tough Republic P47 Thunderbolt the Mustang was a pitiful excuse for a fighter/pursuit/escort plane; it had pretty much zero (0) admirers through its unimpressive A thru C versions.

Until the frabjous day, that is, when some clever Brit with sufficient rank, juice, and pull whispered into the right RAF ear his own crackpot idea for redeeming the unloved P51: let’s try swapping out the woefully inadequate Allison with Rolls Royce’s red-hot Merlin engine! The results of which ingenious mod stunned the whole world by transmogrifying an underfed, scraggly, mange-rife cur into a fast, powerful, deadly Hun’s Bane.

Thanks to the Merlin mill which might have been built with North American’s ugly duckling specifically in mind, the Mustang instantly became the verymost superb plane to emerge from the fiery WW2 air-war forge, acknowledged by everyone except diehard devotees of the Supermarine Spitfire as The Plane That Won The War.

Hell, the born-again-hard P51D was so amazingly bad-ass that no lesser a light than the incomparable Chuck Yeager became one of the small handful of Allied Mustang-jocks to shoot down the first jet fighter ever, the Luftwaffe’s fearsome Me262 Schwalbe, which could handily fly rings around everything else in the sky at that time and, but for some serious fuck-uppery on the stupid, maniacal dictator s’cuse me, military GENIUS Hitler’s part, might well have reversed the course of the entire war on its own hook had it burst onto the Western Front scene sooner, in larger numbers.

So yes, despite my making sport of the ill-starred apteryx jet, I nonetheless held out some small hope that the F35 might come into its own eventually, thereby confirming yet again that I am in fact a dad-gum idiot. However, the above-mentioned announcement sounds as if the USG and/or the Navy, Chair Farce, USMC, and everyone else that matters has decided to throw in the towel on this inadvisable attempt at force-fitting a single aircraft into every conceivable role somehow.

Oh well—designed by committee, approved by bureaucrat, and built by hapless incompetents, the Turducken was so jaw-droppingly expensive I imagine there wasn’t a great deal of enthusiasm to be found for flushing several billion more trying to make the PoS right at long last. At some point, it’s time to stop throwing good money after bad, and just move on to the next project.

What I think will be the really interesting aspect of this dumpster-inferno will be learning whether Amerika v2.0 remains functional enough to produce a world-dominating warplane anymore; the spectacular crash ’n’ burn of the F35 constitutes powerful evidence against, seems to me.

* A LITTLE HISTORY: AMF purchased Harley-Davidson in late 1969; the first model year featuring all-original AMF designs was 1971 (the ugly-as-a-mud-fence boattail 71 Stupid Glide; the big brother to 1970’s boattail Sportster; the wildly and eternally popular Low Rider; and the slow, heavy, poor-handling, unpopular then but a sought-after collector’s item today, the 1978 XLCR Sportster pseudo-cafe racer, all these conceptualized and designed by affable and beloved legatee chump Wille G Davidson

Sink, Britannia

For the small handful who haven’t had quite enough of Once-Great Britainistan’s bullshit yet.


Found guilty of being a ((((****JooJooJooJOOOOO!!!****)))) in public, now a capital offense in certain less-enlightened districts.

Fucking lousy fucking Limey Pig. Choke to death on your own entrails, copper. Seems like a reinforced platoon of amped-up IRA shooters is never around when you really need one.

The pathetic embarrassment formerly known as Great Britain, America’s staunchest, most important ally? Not on your life; Jack. No conquered fourth-rate power whose native population consists mainly of contemptible curs too cowardly, difckless, and weak to rise up and fight their ongoing subjugation will ever be any kind of ally of mine. Except for that Tommy Robinson feller, that is. I like him.

(Via the Ace Place)

Gee whiz, how did THAT happen?

If We Duh Peepul could ever get to the bottom of this sort of thing and then put an end to it, we’d be a long way toward fixing most of what’s wrong with this benighted country.

Rep. Ilhan Omar’s net worth skyrockets to as much as $30 million – months after denying she was a millionaire
Rep. Ilhan Omar (D-Minn.) reported a net worth of up to $30 million in her latest financial disclosure — a document filed just months after the congresswoman dismissed claims she was a millionaire as “ridiculous” and “categorically false.”

The disclosure, filed in May, shows the far-left “Squad” lawmaker and her husband, Tim Mynett, experienced a roughly 3,500% increase in net worth last year, compared to 2023.

The surge in the couple’s wealth was first reported by the Washington Free Beacon on Monday.

Now in fairness, there does seem to be a reasonable explanation for the sudden explosion in the wealth of this particular ProPol which doesn’t indicate the usual bribery, influence-peddling, or general corruption. To wit

The financial gains came from Mynett’s two businesses, a Santa Rosa, Calif.-based winery and a venture capital firm headquartered in Washington, DC.

Omar valued the winery’s assets at between $1,000,000 and $5,000,000 in her latest disclosure. By comparison, the winery, eStCru LLC, was only worth between $15,000 and $50,000 in Omar’s previous financial disclosure.

More dramatic was the explosion in growth experienced by Mynett’s venture capital firm, Rose Lake Capital LLC.

Rose Lake Capital’s assets were valued at between $5,000,000 and $25,000,000 by the end of 2024. The company had less than $1,000 in assets the previous year.

Okay, I’ll allow it. Now do all the other Congresscritters who wind up loaded to the bejeezus bells after only a cpl-three terms, please.

Perhaps Omar/Nur didn’t straightaway get to grifting and grafting with all hands and feet the moment she took office, but she still shouldn’t be allowed in the US Congress except as a tourist just the same, simply by virtue of having publicly declared that she considered herself a representative NOT of the citizens of her state or district but of her native country of Somalia and intended to conduct herself accordingly, thereby rendering the oath of office she took “freely, without…purpose of evasion”—in which she solemnly swore that 1) she would to the best of her ability “preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States” and 2) that she would “bear true faith and allegiance to the same”—nothing but an obscene joke.

Also in fairness, she’d hardly be the first ProPol to take said oath with fingers and toes crossed, more’s the pity.

Correct, on all counts

Kevin Kinkead positively unloads on Springsteen and Born To Run. Not being a fan of either of those, I just about killed myself laughing at this masterpiece.

Happy 50th Anniversary to Bruce Springsteen’s “Born to Run,” One of the Worst Albums Ever Recorded
There is so much to hate about this album, it’s hard to know where to start. Thunder Road is the opener, and it begins with Bruce mumbling over over piano and harmonica for 90 seconds before someone mercifully hits a drum. Then there’s Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out, which shows some promise at times, but is really more of a soul song than a rock song. The album finally starts to display some balls with the underrated third track, Night, which at least has some tempo to it. It only lasts about three minutes though, then we’re slowing it down with Backstreets, featuring more piano wankery, but at least there’s a guitar solo at the 3:33 mark. Unfortunately it’s only 19 seconds long, but better than nothing. Then you’ve got the overrated title track, which builds but never really goes anywhere, bookending two side B filler tracks with Jungleland salvaging a D+ album grade.

The other thing is that Bruce can’t sing, which makes it tough to get into the music itself, which isn’t very good to begin with.

I think the thing that offends me in particular about Springsteen is that those of you who are 50+ got to experience the height of the 1970s music scene, when so many great bands were making so much great music. Even in 1975 alone, when Born to Run came out, Zeppelin released Physical Graffiti, Queen released A Night at the Opera, and Pink Floyd released Wish You Were Here. Aerosmith dropped Toys in the Attic and Black Sabbath was on to Sabotage. You had prime ZZ Top and Deep Purple and David Bowie and Fleetwood Mac and all of that, and your favorite artist was BRUCE? For who? For what! We millennials would have killed to be alive during that era. Imagine wasting it listening to The Boss mumble on about his friend being a good baseball player in high school. Listening to Bruce in the 1970s would have been like wasting the 90s listening to Dave Matthews Band (shout out to that one reader who has seen Dave 47 times in Camden).

If you’d like to hear more Bruce slander, I recommended our Pulitzer-winning column from a few years back, titled Someone has to Say it: Bruce Springsteen Totally Stinks.

Oh, you’d just better believe I’m a-gonna be checking that one out right away.

Cracker Barrel breakdown

So first, there was this:

A YUUUGE change for sure and certain! Next up, I’ve had DEI dragon-slayer Robbie Starbuck’s exposé sitting in an open tab for several days now. Transcript:

Cracker Barrel has been one of the most loved brands in America for decades… That changed this week with a logo redesign that infuriated the public but… the problem goes MUCH deeper than a logo.

@CrackerBarrel has gone fully woke and now it’s time to expose everything.

Here’s the highlights you need to know:

  • Cracker Barrel has funded “all ages” Pride events for many years like Nashville Pride and Third River City Pride.
  • Cracker Barrel worked with the far left HRC organization and reportedly sponsored HRC events for 10 years. They even brought an HRC representative to their Tennessee HQ to do a pronoun and transgenderism training. We’ve included photos of this in the video. As a reminder, the HRC supports child sex changes and men in women’s bathrooms. They work to normalize/legalize both things and they work to force transgenderism in the workplace.
  • Cracker Barrel worked with a group called Conexión Américas as part of their DEI efforts. This group helps illegal immigrants, providing them lawyers and the executive director opposes President Trump’s deportations. 
  • Cracker Barrel sponsored the Out & Equal LGBTQ Workplace Advocate Conference and presented a workshop on how Cracker Barrel has made progress supporting LGBTQ+ causes. This group works to push sexual topics and pronouns into the workplace.
  • Cracker Barrel was awarded Out & Equal’s 2018 top LGBT ERG group award and they won the Nashville LGBT Chamber of Commerce “Corporate Diversity” award.
  • CB created a special “diverse” suppliers program focused on increasing “diversity” among suppliers. To most people this just reads as: less white people.
  • Had Coming out day pamphlets passed out at their TN headquarters as well as pamphlets about supporting “LGBTQ YOUTH” and creating “Safe Zones” at work, free from “heterosexist or cwordgendered comments and actions” (X will downrank my post if I spell that word out). If you said anything activists would describe as “heterosexist” then you were told that you’d be “educated” by their LGBT office group.
  • CB has had multiple DEI focused employees and had CB employees attend DEI roundtables.
  • CB had pride flags at their corporate office.
  • CB promoted the Stonewall riot to employees and on their website despite the fact that the Stonewall Inn was reportedly owned by the mafia, rife with drug dealing and also the site of teen “prostitution” for older men. 
  • Had a Cracker Barrel employee on the HRC’s business advisory council.
  • Has ERG groups in the office that are divided by race and sexual preferences.
  • A total commitment to DEI policies.
  • CB has had MANY activist employees driving this far left policy agenda, including a head of training + management, top execs and a board of directors member who owns a DEI consulting firm.

To put it mildly, Cracker Barrel has forgotten who their core customers are. It’s time for us to remind them.

They depend on YOU to keep their business afloat so now YOU have to ask yourself: Do you want to fund people or companies that hate your values?

It’s time to remind them who their customers are.

If you think their values don’t align with yours and you’re a customer who wants to speak out, you can write to them here: https://guestrelations.crackerbarrel.com/s/contactsupport

Reporters can also call their reporter hotline at: 615-235-4135 or email them: media.relations@crackerbarrel.com

Remember to ALWAYS BE KIND. Many in customer service agree with you. Being rude hurts our cause!

I give everyone permission to use my video and what we found to make your own content. You can rip this, clip this, make your own content, etc. You can even monetize my video. Just get this information to everyone you know. We have to take our power back as consumers. Every company needs to get the message that THIS ENDS NOW.

Oh, you just bet your sweet bippy it WON’T end now, Rob, more’s the pity. Cracker Barrel itself may end, but the Wokester juggernaut will keep right on keepin’ on, seeking that which it may devour.

Last but not least, Sean Davis sums the whole contretemps up rather nicely, in another Tweet/X/whatevs that I’ll provide a complete transcript of rather than embed and have to deal with that irritating “Show more…” Shinola.

The real reason Cracker Barrel has been struggling is that its service and food quality nose-dived after COVID, and instead of fixing that, the company and its woke executives decided to go full Bud Light and taste the rainbow and dare its customers to object. 

They stopped bringing you biscuits and cornbread as a matter of course, then they shrunk them, the food started to taste and look reheated instead of freshly prepared, and the service got slower and sloppier. Everyone who’s been a loyal customer over the years has experienced this. It’s undeniable.

Those are admittedly tricky problems to fix, especially given how service quality everywhere has sucked after COVID. It’s hard to find wait staff and cooks who always show up when they’re supposed to and take pride in their work.

Cracker Barrel executives refused to address those problems—problems that any customer would’ve pointed out had they bothered to ask. Instead, the executives went all-in on woke alphabet BS: DEI this, BLM that, LGBT whatever. 

Because that’s what people want at an old country diner: gay race communism shoved in their faces. 

The stupid rebrand in which executives stripped every last bit of charm and character from the company and its restaurants and stores was just the latest in a long line of attempts to set money on fire by breaking what didn’t need to be fixed and refusing to fix what was obviously broken.

Cracker Barrel had the simplest restaurant model possible, and it was one that made people fall and stay in love with the brand for decades: comfort food in a setting that reminded you of your grandparents’ home. The food was good, the people were kind, and the setting felt like a loving home filled with people who cared about each other. That was it.

And the moronic executives who’ve now destroyed something like $2 billion worth of that company’s value since 2020 have decided the last little bit of charm left in the place needed to have its soul ripped out and covered up with ship lap and geometric artwork and consultant-approved off-white paint. Forget your grandmother’s home-cooking after church—this is now IHOP by Joanna Gaines, complete with gay pride rainbows and in-your-face DEI sloganeering.

Cracker Barrel wasn’t just a company or a restaurant. It represented a slice of Americana that millions would desperately like to return to. A time where people worked with their hands, and prayed before meals, and didn’t bother locking their doors at night. The old soda signs reminded us that our money wasn’t always worthless and our country wasn’t always run by greedy bankers. We used to be a country that built things and conquered the frontier.

That’s the feeling that Cracker Barrel used to evoke, and it’s what made its customers so loyal. It’s why people would stop there for lunch during a long road trip instead of just grabbing fast food and getting back on the highway. It’s why people were happy to wait 30 minutes for a table after Sunday School and happily mill about the store until their table was ready.

And it’s that feeling and that America which the woke parasites in charge of Cracker Barrel deliberately sought to maliciously destroy. They refused to fix the actual problems and instead decided the real problem was its own customers, which it set out to re-educate.

I hope they had their fun, because Cracker Barrel is done. They killed it, wrapped the corpse in a rainbow flag, and then made it do a little puppet show in New York City for the entertainment of all their woke little friends. If the stupid woke CEO Julie Felss Masino had the sense to lose the dumb prop glasses and stop looking down her nose at the millions of people who used to frequent Cracker Barrel, it would’ve been obvious to see.

But no. It was beyond her capabilities. It’s not that she’s dumb. Poor woke little Julie is just plain “eg-no-ra-moose.”

Dumb? Well, no more than every shitlib is, I guess. But like others of her loathsome ilk, she’s all too accustomed to getting her way, thus will most assuredly learn nothing from this gratuitous little episode, and will just pick her little self up, dust her little self off, and move on to her next project of mass destruction.

Update! A cri de coeur.


Also via the above-linked AoSHQ post.

Updated update! A small victory.

The People Have Spoken: Cracker Barrel Caves
Cracker Barrel announced on Tuesday evening that it’s giving up its rebranding plan—or, at least, doing away with its new generic logo and bringing back its “Old Timer.”

It also looks like the company scrubbed its X account and removed the LGBTetc. page from its website.

All well and good, and I’m happy to see it. BUT…near as I can make out, the Wokester/shitlib CEO is still in place, and I gravely doubt she’s adjusted her thinking as regards the need to educate Cracker Barrel’s staid, stuffy, RAYCISS!©, misogynist, homo/transphobic, unenlightened customer base about the vitally critical critically vital importance of making sure gays, Groomers, “transgenders,” kiddy-diddlers, et al feel “seen,” and aren’t “marginalized,” “shamed,” or “excluded” for being “different” at any Cracker Barrel restaurant.

In other words, is this gesture of newfound respect for the views cherished by their most loyal customers a permanent thing, or is it just a knee-jerk response to the feeding frenzy of fury and indignation the CB leadership brought down on itself, an expedient PR maneuver that will be rescinded the moment Cracker Barrel executives think nobody’s watching?

We’ll see, I reckon.

Who they are, what they do

Ladies and germs, just another typical day of your D卐M☭CRAT Party hard at…well, at something, anyway.



Re: that first one up top, Ace has ya covered on the further details.

George and Alex Soros financed another rally in support of the MS-13 terrorist and human trafficker Albrego-Garcia.

Democrat Senator and TikTok Influencer Chris Van Hollen met with the human trafficker again, to support him.

You may remember that Albrego-Garcia was and is an illegal alien who was ordered deported from the US. He was never granted any kind of legal status. He conned one judge into believing that he had a “reasonable fear” of attacks by an El Salvadoran gang — probably because he murdered the mother of one of those gang members — and was barred from being deported to El Salvador, only.

So now Trump is sending his human-trafficking mother-murdering ass to a safe third country, Uganda.

But what’s this? Suddenly Albrego-Garcia has developed a “reasonable fear” of persecution in Uganda, too!!!

What a highly fortunate 11th-hour phobia to develop!!!

I know, right? Why, what an incredible coinkydink! One last reminder of who they’ve always been, what they’ve always done.


There really ain’t no way to make that better, but good on these folks for trying just the same.


BOTTOM LINE: The D卐M☭CRAT (criminal organization masquerading as a political) Party should—MUST, actually—be broken up and permanently banned, all its members executed for treason. Yeah, they’re guilty of many other high crimes and misdemeanors as well, but what the hey, we can only hang ‘em once.

Update! Yes, execute this shitlib Hack In Black too.

Federal judges are at it again. Another Obama appointee has temporarily blocked the Trump administration from deporting Kilmar Abrego Garcia. The Hill reports:

A federal judge on Monday doubled down that the Trump administration is “absolutely forbidden” from removing mistakenly deported man Kilmar Abrego Garcia from the U.S., for now.

U.S. District Judge Paula Xinis, an appointee of former President Obama, blocked Abrego Garcia’s deportation to Uganda until she can hold a hearing to determine whether the administration will let him contest his removal to the third country.

Here we go again.

Indeed. So how many more times will Real Americans put up with this shit before they decide to stand up and do the necessary, then?

(Via Stephen)

Child abuse

Hey, remember when Drag Queens acted all huffy and upset when they were (Unjustly! For no reason! SOOOOO unfair!) accused of “grooming” little boys so as to recruit them into their depraved lifestyle?

Nah, me neither.


Watch as much of the vid as you can stomach; the interview footage with this crazy mixed-up kid makes for some pretty gnarly viewing, but it’s essential that we DO view it just the same. Otherwise, generally righteous sods might find themselves unable to accept that such nightmarish predation really does happen—that the whole sordid circus isn’t just some kind of Ai-generated exaggeration of something that just doesn’t happen in real life, thank God.

What the video depicts is not merely sick, it’s downright evil. So evil, in fact, that one can practically smell the brimstone while watching and listening to this poor child dutifully recite the demented spew he’s been spoon-fed by the degenerates around him who get their rocks off from taking advantage of, corrupting, and defiling an unsuspecting naif.

The conditioning/training process which transmogrified an innocent boy, age 6, into the hopelessly maladjusted profanation shown in the interview must not—MUST NOT—be blandly tolerated by decent, well-meaning people. It has to be faced up to squarely, frankly acknowledged for what it is, then abolished utterly, by any and every means required, lest said decent people make themselves de facto accomplices through their inaction, their shocked disbelief, their slothful indecision, their over-cautious hesitation.

Years of ignoring America’s long, slow descent into libertinism and onanistic self-indulgence has left us in a precarious predicament indeed. With the aggressive, triumphalist flaunting of the sexual grooming of children—in public schools, public libraries, even churches, for Christ’s sweet sake—it’s come to this: either we stop this runaway erotomania or we endorse it, effectively if only tacitly. Them’s the choices, there are no others left to us at this late stage of the game. And the longer we postpone stopping it the more difficult it will be, the longer it will take, and the lower the odds of a satisfactory outcome.

T’is a consummation devoutly to be wished

Are the Swamp critters running scared? Feeling panicky? Working on a little late-in-the-day covering of asses in hopes of evading indictment, trial, conviction, and/or punishment for election-tampering, administrative coup d’état, and high treason and get off scot-free—to quote the scurrilous, taunting cockalorum of ambulatory buttplug Bill Ayers, “guilty as hell, free as a bird”? It’d be nice to think these present-day Benedict Arnolds are trembling with fear as they cower in their living rooms, dreading the sound of combat-boots approaching and the loud knock on their door, of course. Nonetheless, I remain extremely dubious at best that even one (1) of these Deep State scuzzbuckets will ever face serious consequences for their unlawful skullduggery.

The below-described half-baked stab at gaining the upper hand via circular (il)logic; misrepresentation; fatiguing repetition of preposterous, mutually-refuting counterfactuals; and ad lib speculation which is not remotely feasible, believable, or realistic, to me suggests (contra Margolis’s overly-optimistic asseveration of “walls closing in”) that these Red in tooth and claw insurrectionists aren’t terribly concerned that they’ll ever face ANY consequences, either serious or fatuous, themselves.

Brennan and Clapper Just Hit the Panic Button
With the Deep State’s lies about the Russia collusion hoax finally unraveling, panic is setting in, and some of the highest-ranking figures from the Obama administration, including Barack Obama himself, are now squarely in the Justice Department’s crosshairs. Two of the operation’s chief architects, former CIA Director John Brennan and former DNI James Clapper, just tried a last-ditch reputational rehab via a New York Times op-ed. But instead of saving face, they only reminded Americans why trust in the so-called “intelligence community” has collapsed to historic lows.

Incredibly, their main defense against charges of politicizing intelligence was to point to the very thing they politicized: the January 2017 Intelligence Community Assessment. They cited it like gospel, as if repeating it enough times would erase the growing mountain of evidence that it was crafted under political pressure, built on cherry-picked intel, and propped up by the now-discredited Steele dossier. It’s the equivalent of using a forged check to prove you’re not guilty of fraud.

According to Brennan and Clapper, the ICA was beyond reproach simply because it claimed that Vladimir Putin had a “clear preference” for Donald Trump and ran a multi-pronged operation to help him win via hacked emails, social media posts, and internet trolls. But what they left out, conveniently, is that they helped write the script and bullied analysts into signing off on it.

They also wave around the name of special counsel John Durham like a magic shield, claiming that he “found no evidence of an Obama administration conspiracy.” Translation: nothing to see here, move along; just ignore the political pressure, the manipulated assessments, the hidden sourcing, and the whistleblower now confirming everything conservatives have said for years.

Their attempted defense, however, falls apart upon review of the evidence. The newly declassified Durham annex reveals that the Clinton campaign coordinated with George Soros’s Open Society Foundation to push the Trump-Russia collusion hoax during the 2016 election. Internal emails show Clinton approved a plan to link Trump to Russian hackers to distract from her own scandals, with help from Soros-connected operatives and DNC officials. They used cybersecurity firms like CrowdStrike to plant the narrative in the media, hoping the FBI would amplify it. Which, of course, they did.

Americans have seen behind the curtain, and no amount of op-ed space in The New York Times is going to let Brennan and Clapper gaslight the public into believing their actions were anything but politically motivated.

Brennan and Clapper see what’s coming. With the walls closing in, they’re not offering clarity; they’re trying to cover their backsides.

in a better, more just world, the most egregious of these shitweasels would’ve danced the Danny Deever long ago. As should Brennan, Clapper, Bathhouse Barry, Her Herness!!©, Soros, along with any of their co-conspirators, like-minded lesser demons, rumpswabs, and sundry subgenii who haven’t already fled the country for some third-world Shitholia with which the US has no extradition agreement.

Sizable as the first round of hemp-pulling will be, it still amounts to a good start, that’s all. If Real Americans stick to their guns, stay vigilant, and actively keep their attention focused, their eyes on the ball, and their minds sharp, the hangman won’t ever go hungry for want of steady work in Mordor On The Potomac and the surrounding SMSA. As the old saw goes, you can’t swing a dead cat in such crowded environs as DC without sloshing one or another future gallows-bait right in his sallow, sneering gob. Be the sloshee a jihadist rapefugee, an illegal border jumper, a dole-dependent feral Neegrow prowling the urban jungle for prey, or an overpaid, undertasked, lazy, insolent, and wholly incapable bureau-rat scurrying aimlessly through the corridors of the gi-normous FederalGovCo maze, that dead cat is sure to find its mark without the swinger having to bother with the formalities of target selection, acquisition, identification, and lock-on.

All he really has to do is just lift his dead-cat-wielding arm above his head and begin flinging it about wildly, vigorously; shouldn’t take more than 15-20 seconds of such gyrations before he scores a solid hit on his chosen target. After visually confirming the kill by watching his target all the way down to the ground, he is then free to repeat the process until 1) all targets have been destroyed or fled back to base; B) he’s run out of dead cats; 3) he’s too tired and weak to lift his arm, much less swing it; D) he’s lost interest in the whole stupid exercise; 5) it’s almost time for dinner, plus he badly needs to take a pee-break before he drenches his trousers, socks, shirt-tail, and underwear in his own hot, foul-smelling urine.

All jokey digressions aside, in my considered opinion the ongoing MAGA struggle can’t plausibly be said to have concluded satisfactorily (ie, with an indisputable victory) unless/until every last one of the disgusting DC cock-a-roaches has been ground into grisly, grimy goo by the thick Vibram soles of some size 13EE American-made jackboots.

Funny ha-ha

Swiped this ‘un from our boy Ken, just ‘cuz it got a snicker out of grouchy old me.

Heh. Also, *snort, chortle!* On reflection, I suspect the main reason this groaner got me to giggling so was the reminder of how overjoyed I was back when Madeleine began to show the first early signs that her early-toddler-years fascination with godawful puns was beginning to wear off at last.

Racism, straight up

Sick-making, that’s what.

Episcopal Church Refuses To Resettle White South African Refugees, Citing ‘Racial Justice’ Commitment
Episcopal Migration Ministries has long resettled refugees in the United States, but is now refusing to resettle white South Africans.

Presiding Bishop Sean Rowe announced the decision on behalf of Episcopal Migration Ministries on Monday, just a day after 49 South Africans began their journey to the United States.

Rowe went on to say that the organization, which has a long history of receiving federal grants to resettle refugees, will terminate their agreements with the government. “We have determined that, by the end of the federal fiscal year, we will conclude our refugee resettlement grant agreements with the U.S. federal government.”

President Donald Trump extended refugee status to white South Africans amid concerns that the minority group is being subjected to racial discrimination and has been scapegoated by politicians who’ve called for violence against them.

“South Africa is confiscating land, and treating certain classes of people VERY BADLY,” Trump said in a post on Truth Social in February. “It is a bad situation that the Radical Left Media doesn’t want to so much as mention. A massive Human Rights VIOLATION, at a minimum, is happening for all to see.”

The Trump administration announced an executive order just days later, offering white South Africans refugee status in the United States. The administration cited “hateful rhetoric and government actions fueling disproportionate violence against racially disfavored landowners,” as well as a new law that will “enable the government of South Africa to seize ethnic minority Afrikaners’ agricultural property without compensation.”

Controversy erupted after Julius Malema, a member of the National Assembly of South Africa, chanted “shoot to kill” and “kill the boer” at a political rally in reference to the Dutch South African population.

Funny, innit, how when it’s Whypeepuh being systematically stripped of their fundamental rights, possessions, and property; brutally beaten, raped, and murdered in job lots because reasons; and literally genocided by a vengeful, lawless government and the savage mobs it incites, Amerikan shitlibs seem to be either willfully blind to it, blandly indifferent, or actively in favor of it. Funny, but not in a “ha ha” kind of way.

But hey, at least those poor, unjustly oppressed Nee-grows now have the opportunity to prove themselves every bit as competent, deserving, and sensible as their deposed former masters, right? All they ever needed was the freedom to succeed, Oppressor! Now that de White Debbil’s boot has been removed from de Black Man’s neck at last, just watch dose Darkies soar!!

Ummmm. Well. About all that

South Africa black-owned farms ‘failing’
Some 90% of farms redistributed to South Africa’s black population from white farmers are not productive, the government has said.

Land reform minister Gugile Nkwinti warned the land might be repossessed if the farms continued to fail.

Almost 60,000 sq km (23,000 sq miles) have been redistributed under policies aimed at benefiting black people who were left impoverished by apartheid.

The BBC’s Pumza Fihlani in Johannesburg says some black farmers are likely to argue that they have been struggling to get the resources and skills to develop their land.

No worries; the global Handwringer Left sob-sisters will see to it they get their “resources” sure enough—completely free of charge, obligation, or expectation, again and again and again. Skills, on the other hand, will be another story altogether, or so I suspect. A sense of personal responsibility, duty, and the requisite “work ethic,” all left curiously unmentioned in the Beeb piece? Sorry, ain’t happening, not in a million bajillion years it ain’t. At least, it hasn’t over the last million bajillion years, at any rate; no reason to think that’s gonna change now just because certain Wokester idjits so desperately need for it to, so’s their cherished PC shibboleths don’t crash and burn right before their swollen, teary eyes, right?

Kipling saw the whole sorry mess coming long, long ago.

Take up the White Man’s burden—
And reap his old reward, 
The blame of those ye better,
The hate of those ye guard— 
The cry of hosts ye humour 
(Ah slowly!) toward the light— 
“Why brought ye us from bondage, 
“Our loved Egyptian night?”

Take up the White Man’s burden—
Ye dare not stoop to less—
Nor call too loud on Freedom
To cloak your weariness;
By all ye cry or whisper,
By all ye leave or do,
The silent sullen peoples
Shall weigh your Gods and you.

Take up the White Man’s burden—
Have done with childish days—
The lightly proffered laurel,
The easy, ungrudged praise.
Comes now, to search your manhood
Through all the thankless years,
Cold-edged with dear-bought wisdom,
The judgement of your peers.

Huh. That ain’t gonna make the aforementioned teary-eyed Wokester idjits feel any better either, I shouldn’t think. Worse, if anything—particularly that sinister “judgement of your peers” implication.

Nice try

But still no cigar, Snakehead.

‘Turns People Off’: James Carville Suggests It’s Time For Far-Left Dems To Show Themselves The Door
Democratic strategist James Carville suggested in a Tuesday video that far-left individuals should formally break away from the Democratic Party.

Among Democrats and Democratic-leaning independents, 45% would prefer the Democratic Party become “more moderate,” according to Gallup polling published in February. Carville, in a Politicon video, argued that far-left elements are hurting the party’s appeal and proposed “a schism” as a possible solution.

“The only thing I’d ask is just don’t use the word ‘Democratic’ in any title that you have, because most Democrats that I know that are running for office don’t want your name, don’t want you to be part of the deal,” Carville said. “Yeah, sure, they would be glad to take your votes. Who wouldn’t? Everybody wants to get as many votes as they can. Maybe you come up with your own name.”

Sorry to have to remind you, James ol’ buddy ol’ pal, but the stubborn fact is that 45% is NOT a majority—not even close, really—and I strongly suspect that this minority dwindles further each and every day. Maybe it’s actually YOU who needs to consider ditching your misbegotten criminal organization masquerading as a political party and try something new.

(Via Ace)

Hey, Nutflix, leave Aslan alone!

My God, there really isn’t anything whatsoever they won’t stand on its head and try to make a traveshamockery out of, is there?

Through a Wardrobe Dimly: Netflix’s Narnia Reboot
So last week, the word was out that Netflix is playing host to a reboot of “The Chronicles of Narnia.” On top of that, talks are apparently in the works to have none other than Meryl Streep voice Aslan. Yes, they are coming for Narnia in the same way they came for “Star Wars” and “The Lord of the Rings.” A galaxy far, far, away is not safe, nor is Middle Earth; why should Narnia be sacrosanct?

 Deadline reports:

In the novels, Aslan is a talking lion who serves as Narnia’s guardian and a guide for the human children. Generally portrayed as a male, Aslan was created as an allegory for Jesus by author C.S. Lewis.

However, in “The Chronicles of Narnia,” Aslan is not merely an allegory for Christ. Lewis was quite clear that Aslan was Christ as he would have manifested himself to the inhabitants of Narnia. The biblical parallels are unavoidable with a respectful and thoughtful reading of the books, as they were meant to be. 

To wit: in “The Voyage of the Dawn Treader,” we have this quote, “I am [in your world].’ said Aslan. ‘But there, I have another name. You must learn to know me by that name. This was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there.”

It is plausible that the producers of the reboot see Aslan as nothing more than an interesting main character in a fantasy series and thus have no compunctions about playing fast and loose with his gender. It is equally plausible (and altogether likely) that the producers are well aware of the intentional Christianity of the Narnia series and Aslan’s true identity and have taken it upon themselves to decolonize, deconstruct, and reassemble Narnia into something less Christian and more to their liking. Rebooting Aslan is another clandestine attempt at rebooting Christ. 

As Fate would have it, I’ve recently been re-reading The Chronicles of Narnia for the umpty-leventh time, and enjoying Lewis’ inspired magnum opus trememdously; it’s been too many years since I last checked in on Polly, Diggory, wicked Uncle Andrew, King Peter, Queen Susan, Prince Caspian, Mr Tumnus, and the rest of the gang. Frankly, the only thing I find at all surprising about Nutflix’s latest attempt to shit in its own hat is that they didn’t go out and find themselves a Neegrow lesbian Transgender of Color rather than moldy-oldy White-bread broad Streep to voice Aslan, so as to offend, dismay, and just plain piss off as many Xtianist, binary, sane Normals as humanly possible.

A REAL stinker

Hey, there’s a reason I’ve been calling the disgusting toad “Jabba the Senator” for quite a few years now. But even so, I had no idea, really.

This was posted today on freebeacon.com – Longtime New York congressman Jerry Nadler has become famous as a champion of progressive policies in the House of Representatives. But among his colleagues in the chamber, he has also earned the dubious distinction of being its smelliest member.

“He’s the kind of guy who when he makes his way onto the floor he barrels through everyone, and sometime he doesn’t really need to barrel through because his stench kind of clears the way and it equates to his personality, which is nasty and most people want to keep away from,” said Anthony D’Esposito, a former GOP congressman from Long Island recently named inspector general of the Department of Labor.

A half dozen of Nadler’s current and former colleagues—on both sides of the aisle—were even more savage behind the scenes, pooh-poohing the New York liberal. One House Democrat said he wasn’t just rancid but also frequently out of it.    

“Members of Congress don’t want to sit next to him because of it,” the House Democrat told the Washington Free Beacon. “Yeah, he smells. I don’t know what he does. Maybe he doesn’t take a bath, I don’t know what it is.”

Ah, but I do. And so do you, if we’re being honest here.

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