Bitter, hate-filled, and miserable

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Insight into the thinking of a modern city-dweller. It all started with Educated Hillbilly’s response to a hateful Tweet from someone calling herself Molly McGhee.


And from there, EH is off and running.

I’ve seen enough to get a fix on this gal and I’ve seen her type a million times. And they’re a dime a dozen in the writing world. They almost always go into the arts…never the sciences. Because your intelligence can be measured in the sciences. Writing is subjective.

Molly here grew up poor, TN I believe she said, but she mentions “poor” & “the south” about a million times. She’s making a point here. That she has the authority to speak on these topics & tell the liberal NY writing society that they’re correct to hate rural white poors.

She absolutely hates her parents, hates having to grow up in & around all that poor, all that filth, all their ignorance. Imagine knowing you’re better than everyone else & having to share a school bus with them. A lunch table. A class room. The rage builds for 18 years.

Make no mistake I would bet Molly here has a mildly above average IQ & was probably in a[n] underfunded school system. Most rural schools get the left overs after the cities take all the money.

I would also bet my IQ is much much higher & my aptitude testing probably blows hers out of the water. But I digress…She knows better than this filth. She knows she’s destined for better things than her ignorant father.

And slamming her father & where she’s from is her ticket into the world she so desperately wants to be a part of. The world she looks at from behind the glass for so so long. She wants to be accepted, to be one of them, to be on the other side of the glass looking out not in.

Make no mistake, she hates her parents & where she grew up. But she can use them now that she’s free. Away from home, in college, with that scholarship she worked so hard for to escape that hell hole. She’s among her people now. Free of the unwashed.

It probably started organically, a comment here a slam there & next thing she knows the cool kids from NY old money families are hanging on her every word of hate for her home & father. She’s telling them everything they’ve always believed & they cant get enough.

She enthralls them with tails of her ignorant father. With every telling he gets slower, more racist. His house becomes a broken down mobile home, then a shack. He’s probably drooling by her senior year.

Every negative feeling & thought she’s ever had about where she’s from gets her praise from her peers. She’s made it, she’s arrived. She’s accepted. She’s one of them…

But what happed you ask? Why is she so angry & full of rage & hate now? She got what she wanted? She made it, she’s in NY. A professor. Around her kind all day. A published author. How can someone get their wish at 28 & still be so bitter, hate filled & angry?

She’s 28, deeply in debt & unhappy. Life wasn’t supposed to be this way. She did the thing. She followed the playbook. She made it. She arrived. Is this really it?

Yes Molly…it is.

There are 2 big age moments in your life.

  1. When you realize you’re no longer a kid & your “youth” is in the past. (28-32)
  2. And when you realize you’re old & there is more life behind you than in front of you. (45-55)

Obviously the ages vary on the person, but she’s hit #1.

There’s more yet, and it’s perceptive, thoughtful, and entirely damning. Note that at no point does EH lapse into the kind of vituperation, insult, and frothy-mouthed personal invective that is the stock in trade of McGhee and her tiresome ilk. At the end, EH even offers her some quite worthwhile advice, although we all know perfectly well that the irremediably dysfunctional bint will never so much as even consider lowering herself to pay heed to his wise words.

Thus does she seal her unhappy fate as a lonely, fearful woman aging ever more swiftly beyond her sell-buy date, trapped in a cramped, poorly-maintained apartment, with only the thirty or forty cats living there with her for comfort and companionship.

It all rings true to me, I must say. During my own NYC years, almost all of the women I knew who had come to New York from other places were a lot like the pathetic Ms McGhee, and weren’t at all shy about reciting the exact same litany of complaint against the places and people where they’d grown up that she does. Nearly without exception, they weren’t running to NYC as I had done, motivated by eagerness and excitement at the prospect of taking up residence in the greatest city on Earth, but running away from their places of origin and the hordes of Neanderthal revanchists who dwell there.

A handful of my young female friends had just cause to be fleeing; they’d been molested or otherwise abused by someone close to them, or they worked in fields that were centered in NYC and hoped to advance their careers by relocating to the central hub of their chosen profession: fashion modeling or design, say, or certain sub-branches of the entertainment industry. These women tended to be cheerful, easy-going sorts, some managing to maintain their overall positivity even as the Big Apple soul-devouring machine slowly ground them into hamburger, demonstrating for them just what a tough ladder they’d chosen to try and climb.

But the majority were exactly the type of whiny, self-seeking neurotics that Ms McGhee appears to be—people whose self-esteem derives almost exclusively from looking down their noses at others, sniffily derogating them as stupid, unevolved losers. They never seem to learn the lesson my dad had drilled into me years before: when you spend all your time running away from something, happiness can be an extremely difficult quarry to catch.

HAPPY JUMETEEMF!

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Doc 0 unravels this specious joke of a “national holiday.“

One reason Juneteenth isn’t catching on organically with the general public is that it’s obviously a politicized partisan “holiday,” not a celebration where all Americans are invited to join hands and rejoice in a great achievement. That’s what it should be, but it isn’t. 

The rest of our political culture loudly insists every day that no “victory” has been won against slavery or racism. We’re told they are the founding sins of America, for which there will never be atonement or forgiveness. We’re told “white supremacy” remains a systemic problem. 

If anything, our hysterical racial grievance industry and the ruling Democrat Party say racism and white supremacy are getting WORSE. We’re all supposed to feel perpetually guilty and submissive to endless demands for reparations. So what great victory does Juneteenth celebrate?

The Democrat Party is wholly dedicated to stoking racial grievances for political and financial gain – the man in the White House is infamous for yelling “they’re gonna put y’all back in CHAINZZ” – so the new federal holiday is naturally viewed with skepticism. Context matters. 

Persuading more states to commemorate Juneteenth would have been a better way to go, but as we know, the totalitarian Left has no patience for representative government. It had to be imposed top-down after the George Floyd riots – a flex of power, not persuasion. 

And now look at what we’ve got: a bloodbath. Juneteenth murder sprees. The long, slow work of creating a more harmonious nation, of putting racism and grievances behind us instead of nuclear-weaponizing them, would have produced a better holiday. 

Americans know the calendar is being chopped up into more identity-grievance days and months, pushed on them with corporate and government power instead of fellowship. True holidays spring from goodwill: from people seeing the best in others and offering it from themselves. 

If you want to plant a new holiday and have everyone feel comfortable beneath its spreading branches, you need the fertile soil of goodwill, a sense that everyone is invited but no one is commanded. Too much of our political culture is barren of that soil right now.

“Too much”? ALL of it, I’d say; as the Left’s radicalization and hostility towards even the mildest of dissent continues to metastasize, it was inevitable, really. Read the whole thing, as per usual with the incomparable John Hayward’s stuff.

MLK Day, Jumeteemf—what next? How many holidays, celebrations, and forelock-tugging acknowledgments, how much more groveling, obsequious foot-bathing will it take, prithee tell, before American Blaques are at long last placated—their inchoate rage diminished, their hatred attenuated? Is there no point at which even “too much” will be considered enough?

Never mind, no need to answer that. I think we all know well enough by now, thenkyewveddymuch.

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Be ye not sparing in thine outrage

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Lord knows, there’s plenty enough reason for it to go around nowadays.

Daniel Penny’s Indictment Deserves The Level Of Outrage Trump’s Got
U.S. Marine Corps veteran Daniel Penny was reportedly indicted by a Manhattan grand jury on Wednesday for defending New York City subway passengers from an erratic and threatening homeless man.

The incident in question occurred on May 21, when Jordan Neely — who had been arrested 44 times for “criminal conduct” and, at the time, “had an outstanding warrant for felony assault” — began threatening and getting violent with NYC subway passengers. During the episode, Neely allegedly kept repeating the phrases, “I’m going to kill you,” “I’m prepared to go to jail for life,” and “I’m willing to die.”

In response, Penny and two of his fellow passengers attempted to restrain Neely, which involved the former placing the latter in a headlock. Neely ultimately died during the encounter, with NYC’s medical examiner ruling the death a homicide.

According to sources who spoke with Fox News, Penny is being indicted “on one count each of criminally negligent homicide and second-degree manslaughter.” If convicted of the latter charge, Penny could face five to 15 years in prison.

Not surprising, nor will I be when he’s convicted, sentenced harshly, and packed on off to durance vile. After all, in Amerika v2.0 no truly good deed goes unpunished. Tells one all one should ever need to know about its demented and deformed system of “justice”; its hideously warped mores and values; and its juvenile obsession with a wholly-contrived “racism” which exists only in the Left’s own fevered imagination.

On their own merits, the Penny and Trump indictments symbolize the increasing weaponization of law enforcement agencies against anyone who refuses to bend the knee to leftism. But unlike the reaction to the DOJ’s targeting of Trump, the overall response to Penny’s indictment has been mum by comparison.

While it’s understandable for a presidential primary contender to generate a larger following than a former Marine, it’s precisely for this reason that Penny’s unjust prosecution should be shouted from the rooftops. Unlike Trump, a guy like Penny likely doesn’t possess the financial or legal resources necessary to engage in a prolonged legal fight against a system that’s rigged against him. And it’s for this reason that all conservatives and common-sense Americans must rally to his defense.

A conviction of Penny would further entrench Democrats’ attempts to criminalize self-defense and give leeway to leftist prosecutors seeking to charge any citizen not “down” for their Marxist revolution. Yes, the DOJ’s targeting of Trump is horrific. But so is the immoral prosecution of Daniel Penny.

If they can do it to Penny, they can — and will — do it to anyone else.

“Can”? “Will”? Nuh uh. Howzabout…ARE, along with DID, and HAVE BEEN, for entirely too long now. Until you’re red-pilled enough to be able to make that crucial distinction, there can be no realistic hope of ever fixing this. Either wise up, and nut up, or kwitcherbitchin’.

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Strung up, strung out

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Yet another excellent Quora digest edition drops into my email inbox.

Why does Billy Gibbons use 7-43 guitar strings? It seems odd.

Billy uses 7–38.

Billy used to use 11s & 12s because he thought that’s what all the blues guys did: Big string = Big sound

He was in the green room of a gig with B.B. King and BB wanted to see Billy’s axe. BB was noodling with Billy’s guitar and asked Billy why he was running such heavy strings? Billy said, “I thought that’s how all you blues guys got your tone.” BB said, “Why do you want to work so hard?” I think Billy dropped down to 9s almost immediately and eventually worked his way down to 7s and 8s, which is what a lot of the classic music of the 50s, 60s, and 70s was done with.

7’s will teach you about control PDQ because they respond so easily. If you want to sound super-tight on 9s or 10s go play on 7s and 8s for while.

.007s? Dang, I don’t think I ever have played with strings that light; in fact, I don’t recall being aware that they even made ‘em that light. My uncle started me out on .008s, a jazz set of his preferred Black Diamonds with the wrapped G (as a snot-nosed punk kid already gravitating heavily towards rock and roll, I didn’t like that worth a damn, believe me; wrapped third strings on electric guitars is definitely a jazzbo thing). Then, once I’d mastered the essential chords, scales, and runs, followed by guitar adaptions of a few old songs, most of which Murray had transposed and committed to staff paper himself (Sweet Georgia Brown*, I remember ye fondly, old girl!), I went out on my own hook from there.

POINTLESS CF DIGRESSION™: I still have one of those jumbo-sized plastic totes crammed full of Murray’s old sheet-music transcriptions in climate-controlled storage over in my friend Wendy’s living room, safely tucked away between her two (2) pianos. It’s all promised to my friend Jeremy, a great player in his own right, who damned near collapsed in stunned but delighted disbelief when I first showed him that plastic-tub treasure trove and spent an evening pawing through it with him. Jeremy took guitar lessons from me back when I was still willing to take on students; he’s probably the best pure musician I’ve ever known, and I’m happy indeed to turn over all that 24-karat musical history to him, knowing as I do how much he’ll love it, and what good care he’ll take of it.

Anyhoo, when I began playing professionally, I had to change strings before every show, either in the green room or at the hotel. I could count on breaking at least one any night I got lazy and didn’t—usually the D or B, don’t know why that would have been. And believe me, I tried like hell to figure it out. It was annoying as hell, but then again all the onstage angst and aggro was easily avoided just by the simple expedient of changing the blasted things.

Uncle Murray, by contrast, only replaced his strings once in a blue moon; he’d boil ‘em when they started to feel limp and flaccid, then put ‘em back on for another year’s worth of abuse. Murray and I never discussed the way I went through strings; I figure he would have been genuinely horrified at the needless waste, the grotesque profligacy of any nephew of his buying strings not by the pack, but by the case. Why, the very idea! Surely he’d taught me better than THAT!

I DO know that Stevie Ray Vaughn famously used strings so painfully heavy they more closely resembled low-register piano strings, or perhaps telephone-pole guy wires. Don’t know how in the world he managed to play the way he did—bending notes with no apparent effort, fingers zooming wildly all over the fretboard like honeybees in a field of wildflowers—on strings that big, night after night after night, for years. But then, that’s why he’s Stevie Ray Vaughan, and I, y’know…ain’t.

My own calluses, laboriously created by set after set of comparatively wimpy D’Addario Jazz/Rock .011 to .049s, are still there, and I haven’t picked up a guitar since 2017. Hell, I can still feel the lip-callus you get from trumpet-playing when I run my tongue across my upper lip; apparently, they never do go away completely. The calluses on Stevie Ray’s left-hand fingertips, then, must have been something to see indeed. By the time he died, his fingertips must have been rutted as deeply as a New Mexico desert valley after a sudden monsoon.

.007 to .038 gauge strings, Gibbons? Ya fuckin’ pussy.

Update! Having mentioned Jeremy up there, please enjoy one of my all-time favorite songs from his surf band nonpareil, the Aqualads.

Great band, great tune. Written by the late, lamented Bob Nelson, may he forever rest in peace.

* I keep thinking of stuff I want to add to this post, so I put in a link to Django Reinhardt and Stephan Grappelli’s version of SGB, just because they were two of Murray’s favorites.

Eyrie up!

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The Monday Substack, “Reinventing the Republic,” has now been posted. This installment discusses the Five Ws as related not to a principle of journalism, but to the hijacking of a once-free nation by Progressivists, and to the Constitution they’ve defiled and discarded. To wit:

The Constitution is no more than a document—mere words on paper, expressing certain ideals that, until relatively recently, most Americans claimed to revere. It has no power of its own, no practical or corporeal means of enforcing the ideals it proposes. Reasonable, aware Americans ought not to expect it to; they are the ones charged with the duty of protecting and enforcing it, not vice the versa. It cannot defend itself, it must be defended.

This is tacitly confirmed by the simple fact that many, many of us have sworn an oath to do precisely that: upon enlisting in the military, joining the police force, or accepting elected office as what used to be called a “public servant.” Every last one of them swore that oath completely aware of what it meant, as should those of us who did NOT swear any oath. OUR duty is to see to it that those who did, most especially the elected officials, are held rigorously to account for fulfilling it. Ignoring, shirking, or otherwise failing to uphold this solemn and sacred responsibility, then, cannot fairly be taken as an indication that the Constitution has failed us, but rather that we have failed the Constitution.

Until that solemn and sacred duty is reaffirmed, taken seriously, and fully and firmly upheld, all efforts undertaken by freedom-oriented Americans who prefer properly limited government—“election” campaigns, peaceful protest, indignant op-eds, lawfare—will continue to be frustrated. Said Americans will have no hope whatever of prevailing in the gloomy twilight of the eternal struggle against tyranny and despotism.

I’m right, and you know I am. Go ye and read all of it—no subscription necessary to read, paid sub required to comment, y’all know the drill.

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How many Epsteins have there been?

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FederalGovCo: murdering politically-inconvenient prisoners in their cells and absurdly claiming their deaths were actually “suicides” since 1995.

Last January, Tucker Carlson featured a segment that challenged the theory that Jeffrey Epstein committed suicide. He was not alone. Many doubt the official narrative. What the doubters don’t realize is how the press used the cover-up of a 1995 brutal prison homicide to facilitate the cover-up of Epstein’s (very likely) homicide.

On August 21, 1995, Kenneth Michael Trentadue was found dead in his allegedly suicide-proof cell at the Federal Transfer Center in Oklahoma City. Pieces of his skull were missing in three different places. There were deep bruises underneath his arms, including bruises shaped like a person’s fingertips running along his biceps. His knuckles were deeply bruised and swollen.

According to the government, Trentadue’s appalling injuries resulted from his hanging himself in that “suicide-proof” cell during a 24-minute interval between bed checks. The FBI and the DOJ successfully made their suicide fantasy the accepted narrative about Trentadue’s death.

The only person who wasn’t fooled was Kenneth Trentadue’s brother, Jessie Trentadue, a trial lawyer in Salt Lake City who kept challenging the government’s lies. What he could not figure out was what triggered the violent assault. That issue was addressed in the Rohrabacher Report, which examined the many controversies surrounding the 1995 Oklahoma City bombing. It turns out it may have been a case of mistaken identity:

Bank robber Richard Guthrie claimed that he would soon be revealing information that would blow the lid off the Oklahoma City bombing case. The next day, he was found dead, hanging in his cell, purportedly a suicide. This suspicious “suicide” mirrored the similar death of Kenneth Trentadue, another prisoner, who may have been tangentially and incorrectly linked to the Oklahoma City bombing. The death of these two prisoners, who happened to be very similar in appearance, is more than disturbing. (Emphasis added.)

According to the FBI, Richard Guthrie was a member of the Midwest Bank robbers gang that reportedly shared stolen monies with Timothy McVeigh to help fund the Oklahoma City bombing. Trentadue may have been beaten to death by prison guards because they mistook him for Guthrie.

There’s more to this gruesome story, all of it revolting, appalling, and just scary as all hell. Even more sobering is that, in all likelihood, such atrocities possibly date back to well before 1995; in fact, knowing the kind of government we have long had and the nature of the monsters working within it—particularly in the ludicrously-misnomered Department of “Justice”—I think it a dead certainty that they do.

The most sobering aspect of all? Another dead cert: the longer we sit on our fat, comfy asses and just docilely put up with it, the worse it will get—and the more extreme the measures taken to correct it will have to be, until “Kill ‘em all, let God sort ‘em out” is not merely an amusing slogan and/or CF post category, but becomes something more along the lines of a mandate, even a way of life.

Speaking of post categories, I think it’s high time I updated the “Life in the O!gulag” category with a new name: “Life (and/or death) in the Amerikan gulag.”

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No case to be made

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Like I said the other night, the whole blasted shitshow is just a scam.

We might not like it, and our allies might and should get nervous about it, but under our system the President has absolute authority to declassify material AND to take it home as personal records. Beaten into us at the State Department was the knowledge that our ability to classify material, and I shamefully admit that I classified a lot, comes FROM and ONLY from the President. He can override any classification. The President can grab a binder of the most “sensitive” material, and read it out at a press conference; politically not wise, but legal. The famous Bill Clinton “sock drawer” case emphasized that: an Obama-appointed judge ruled that Clinton had the authority to declassify AND take home as his personal records ANY material produced by the Executive branch. No exceptions. Full stop. The President, in our structure, DOES NOT COME UNDER the authority of some faceless bureaucrat in a government archives office.

I find tiring to hear that the Trump case differs from those of Pence and Biden because they “immediately” returned to the archives the classified material once that material was found in their possession. First, we don’t know if that’s true in the Pence case, and it’s certainly not true in the Biden case; second, most important, neither man had the authority to take classified (documents) to his home or his office. The cases, in other words, are different because neither Biden nor Pence was President at the time they took the classified material! Biden had been taking material for decades. Neither had the authority to declassify and remove classified documents. In Biden’s case, it seems about 100 percent certain that he shared still-classified material with his crack-addled son who used it to “write” papers about Ukraine and European politics for clients. 

Has Trump handled this in the best way possible? You decide. I think, maybe, he could have handled the request from the archives office to return documents in a better, less confrontational way, while still saying, “No. Those are my papers.” Maybe. Maybe.

Now, you will rightly note, that what I just wrote naively assumes that the request was well-intentioned. It, of course, was not. It was a trap to persecute Biden’s main political rival, and along with the bogus charges filed by local Democrat DAs, to tie up Trump in an endless legal siege, cripple him politically and financially, and–very important–distract from the growing evidence of the criminality of the Biden family. 

The attack on Trump also has sucked the air out of the Republican primary process. How can, say, DeSantis get a word in when all we talk about is Trump, Trump, Trump? How can we get anybody to focus on the blatant criminality of the Bidens, when we all focus on the irrelevant debate over what is or is not classified?  

We have become a banana republic with nuclear weapons. My apology to banana republics; they, at least, provide us bananas.

Heh. True, dat. Great to see you back after your extended hiatus from blogging, Lewis. You were definitely missed, buddy.

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Celebrate Jumeteemf ‘n’ sheeitz!

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So how’s that Jumeteemf business working out for y’all? NOT TOO GOOOOIT, DEY BE GETTIN’ ALL SHOTTED ‘N’ SHEEITZ.

20 shot, 1 dead in Chicago-area mall as violence mars Juneteenth holiday weekend around US
This Juneteenth holiday weekend has been marred by violent crime throughout the states, but especially so in blue metropolitans like Chicago.

Over in Chicago, in fact, a crowded, 300+ late Saturday night celebration specifically for Juneteenth turned into a violent affair with 20 shot, one of them fatally.

“Battalion Chief Joe Ostrander with the Tri-State Fire Protection District said the shooting took place about 12:30 a.m. [Sunday morning] on Route 83 near Honeysuckle Rose Lane. A large group was gathered in a strip mall parking lot for a Juneteenth celebration that turned violent, witnesses said,” according to station WLS.

“Fire officials said at least 10 were shot. A DuPage County Sheriff’s Office official said later Sunday morning that 20 had been shot, one fatally,” the station reported.
According to witness Markeshia Avery, things weren’t supposed to be like this.

“It was supposed to be like a Juneteenth celebration; we just started hearing shooting, so we dropped down until they stopped. They just kept going. After that, we literally scattered away,” she said.

“We just heard gunshots; at first it was one, but then it was a whole bunch of gunshots. After then we started running like, ‘yo.’ I looked at my friend, and we took off, running like crazy,” another witness, Zaviar Sheikh, added.

Meanwhile, over in St. Louis, Missouri, ten juveniles were shot, one of them fatally, during a shooting early Sunday morning.

Next up is Washington state, where five people were shot, two fatally, near a music festival, according to Kyle Foreman, the public information officer with the Grant County Sheriff’s Office.

Then there’s Pennsylvania, where two state troopers were shot, one of them fatally, during a shoot-out Saturday afternoon.

And finally, in California, eight people were shot, two critically, during a house pool party around midnight.

Gee, imagine my surprise. But hey, whatcha gonna do, right? As my utmost favorite Rick James of all possible Rick Jameses in the multiverse, Dave Chappelle, put it:

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How to wage a Culture War

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Enforced over-familiarity breeds contempt.

Rage Against the Pride Machine: We Don’t Hate You, We Are Just Tired of Having Rainbows Thrust Down Our Heretofore Tolerant Gullets
For those of you patriots who aren’t familiar with me, I am a former New York City liberal. I say this for two reasons: 1) it gives me an insight many don’t have, which I will soon discuss; and, 2) I deserve to be mocked incessantly for my folly. Please fire away in the comments, it keeps me humble.

Though I now lean right, I still DO NOT CARE how others live their lives. If a man wants to wear a dress, have at it. Gay marriage? I don’t care.

My point is, I am as LGBT-friendly a person as you will find.

That said, can we stop gavaging “gay” down everyone’s throat?

We do not care what you LGBT types do when the lights are off, and that was the goal, right?

Umm, no, not precisely. Despite their usual disingenuous disclaimers in the beginning, what it was was a first step. Which is how the now-typical progression/escalation gets them from Point A to Point XXX. Thus:

The gay movement went from “Stay out of our bedrooms,” which I found a reasonable request, to “If you straight guys won’t boink a trans dudette, you’re a bigot” to “Let us chop off your 15-year-old son’s penis or you’ll be arrested, you domestic terrorist.” Then you screech at us for “hating” you if we don’t deliver our kids to the “Zygote-friendly Drag Night” where they can watch attention-starved yet talent-free men in dresses shake their waxed asses and then beg for dollar bills.

And there you have it. But fret not, Kev knows the score here.

As a former teen-aged, punk-rockish, blue-haired, cranky, eyeliner-wearing crosspatch myself, I know how you operate. I also know how you recruit. You do it the same way the skinheads do it, as well as cults and midwestern-Detroit punk-rock types in the 1980s. You look for sad loners, weak people, damaged souls, and bitter failures to pull into your cult. You also target kids from bad or broken homes. In short, you’re a bunch of predators.

It all comes down to victimhood. You can’t attack people unless you convince yourself they have victimized you, and that you are “literally” fighting for your existence. That is why you pretend we — the monsters on the right — are trying to “genocide” you, even though we walk past you in the thrift store without a second glance.

The truth is you abhor us even more when we ignore you. In a sad, pathetic way you need us, but we don’t need you. That really steams your clams.

The truth is that most of us don’t care how the Pride community lives — as requested — but that was never the plan. The radical, emotionally-crippled harpies from the Gaystapo never intended to live peacefully amongst us. They will always push their narrative against us then cry victim when we get sick of being force-fed a huge breakfast bowl of Raisin Tran and eventually push back.

But tell me, what is your next move?

Whatever it ends up being, just assume it will be the most disgusting, offensive, reprehensible affront to common decency and common sense they think they can get away with at the time and you won’t go far wrong. Then just sit back and wait for the next step down that ol’ slippery slope—which won’t be long in coming, and will be even worse.

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Planned obsolescence?

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Veddy interesting. Veeeeddy interesting, indeed.

Could It Be That Anheuser-Busch Tanked Bud Light ON PURPOSE?
So many stories involving the Left these days come down to the core question: are they stupid or evil? Bud Light’s resounding nosedive after making the repulsive and obnoxious fake woman Dylan Mulvaney the face of the brand is the latest.

All this time it has been assumed that Anheuser-Busch was appallingly stupid, tanking its premier brand in a misguided quest for woke points. Now, however, it turns out that they may have been evil all along, wanting to destroy Bud Light because too many of the wrong kind of men drank it — that is, men who are comfortably masculine. A former Anheuser-Busch has now said that the whole thing was done on purpose.

This seems to be a frankly suicidal decision from a business standpoint, but it coincides with what Alissa Heinerscheid, Bud Light’s vice president of marketing, said on March 30, just before Mulvaney came out as Bud Light’s new spokesman. “I’m a businesswoman,” said Heinerscheid with noteworthy self-importance; “I had a really clear job to do when I took over Bud Light, and it was ‘This brand is in decline, it’s been in a decline for a really long time, and if we do not attract young drinkers to come and drink this brand there will be no future for Bud Light.”

This would involve not just working to attract the wild-eyed ideologues, the deluded, and the mentally ill as new Bud Light drinkers, but to alienate the old customers as well. Heinerscheid explained: “We had this hangover, I mean Bud Light had been kind of a brand of fratty, kind of out-of-touch humor, and it was really important that we had another approach.” So was Mulvaney brought on not just to attract the woke to Bud Light, but specifically to drive away the ordinary guys who had been the backbone of the brand’s audience?

That was what the former employee said. “Why would they do this? What were they thinking?” he asked. “Especially now. This is the worst; it’s like the worst time yet, the best timing….Many of us are talking about that like they planned it in a way…like a strategic destruction of Bud Light.” Anheuser-Busch executives apparently decided it was time to cut loose those MAGA hat-wearing right-wing yahoos once and for all.

Echoing Heinerscheid, the former Anheuser-Busch employee added, “Bud Light has been failing for many years. We’ve talked about that for many years. The numbers of just, you know, little by little deteriorated. And it feels like they said, ‘let’s put this nail in the coffin.’” Bud Light would forever shake loose the frat boys, the flag wavers, the patriots. The woke scorekeepers such as the Soros-funded Human Rights Campaign would give Anheuser-Busch a lifetime gold star. The woke would make Bud Light their beer of choice to own the cons, even if they had to hold it as gingerly as Ted Lieu did.

So maybe Anheuser-Busch executives are not stupid; they’re just evil. They meant to destroy Bud Light all along, to rid themselves forever of their image of being a beer for ordinary Americans who might dare to resist the Left’s authoritarian agenda. Sure, they’d lose a few billion, but in the end, they’d have the approval of the woke, the compromised, and the insane, and that’s all that matters.

One thing you gotta give to the Left: always and forever, in any and all imaginable circumstances, they’re gonna have a plan. Doesn’t necessarily mean it’s going to be a good or even a workable one; actually, history tells us that they very rarely are either of those things. Nevertheless, count on it: no matter what it may look like they’re doing or not doing, they’re working a plan. Every. Single. Time.

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A bridge too far

Posted on      by     

Thanks to our friends and fellow Americans in Hamtramck, looks like that long-expected schism between the Left and its ersatz Mooselimb allies of convenience is finally underway.

‘A sense of betrayal’: liberal dismay as Muslim-led US city bans Pride flags
Many liberals celebrated when Hamtramck, Michigan, elected a Muslim-majority council in 2015 but a vote to exclude LGBTQ+ flags from city property has soured relations

In 2015, many liberal residents in Hamtramck, Michigan, celebrated as their city attracted international attention for becoming the first in the United States to elect a Muslim-majority city council.

They viewed the power shift and diversity as a symbolic but meaningful rebuke of the Islamophobic rhetoric that was a central theme of then Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump’s campaign.

This week many of those same residents watched in dismay as a now fully Muslim and socially conservative city council passed legislation banning Pride flags from being flown on city property that had – like many others being flown around the country – been intended to celebrate the LGBTQ+ community.

Muslim residents packing city hall erupted in cheers after the council’s unanimous vote, and on Hamtramck’s social media pages, the taunting has been relentless: “Fagless City”, read one post, emphasized with emojis of a bicep flexing.

Follows, a toilet-load of the usual whiny shitlib claptrap (this IS the Grauniad I’m excerpting here, after all) about “rightwing agitators” “shoving” genderqueerintersexnonbinaryminorattractedotherkins “back into the closet,” thereby effectively “erasing” them if not just genociding them outright. Back over to Hizzoner da Mayor for the kernel of actual, by-God truth here.

Their talking points mirror those made elsewhere: some Hamtramck Muslims say they simply want to protect children, and gay people should “keep it in their home”.

.Mayor Amer Ghalib, 43, who was elected in 2021 with 67% of the vote to become the nation’s first Yemeni American mayor, told the Guardian on Thursday he tries to govern fairly for everyone, but said LGBTQ+ supporters had stoked tension by “forcing their agendas on others”.

“There is an overreaction to the situation, and some people are not willing to accept the fact that they lost,” he said, referring to Majewski and recent elections that resulted in full control of the council by Muslim politicians.

Bold mine, because every word of it is perfectly, inarguably true and accurate. Some of us have been insisting for years, over and over and over again, that Leftards needed to slow their roll a bit, before Normal Americans got pissed off enough to start slapping back at them. In fact, just the other day I said this:

Might the Hamtramck Muslims actually have put themselves, however inadvertently, at the pointy end of a Real American Renaissance here? After this, I don’t know as I’d be willing to bet against it.

Taking the longer view, this Hamtramck brouhaha could easily turn out to be the most genuinely important news story of the year, far more so than whatever Sewer State pig-in-a-poke “wins” the 24 “election.”

And so suddenly, against all odds and expectations, here we all are. Is it too late now for Leftwits to prevent what’s coming at them next? After all the sick, intolerable depravity they’ve tried to force down Normal gullets the past couple of years, one can only hope that it is, frankly. After all, it’s not as if they weren’t warned, by plenty and to spare of us. Now let them choke on it instead of us, for a refreshing change of pace.

(Via Insty)

Update! Looking back over this post for purposes of proofreading, this bit from the first excerpt sorta jumped out at me (bold mine again):

They viewed the power shift and diversity as a symbolic but meaningful rebuke of the Islamophobic rhetoric that was a central theme of then Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump’s campaign.

Of course, there was no rebuke at all; how could there have been, when there had been no “Islamophobic rhetoric” whatsoever, from Trump nor from anybody else? How deliciously ironic, then, that they now find themselves being rebuked, and quite deservedly at that. Not symbolically either, but directly, unequivocally, and—dare I say it—meaningfully, too.

Sit back and suck on it, shitlibs. You asked for it, and now you’re a-gonna get it—good and hard. This is only the start of it, I’d bet.

Enough already update! Divemedic says he’s over it, and with good reason. I’m over it myself, and I suspect many, many others are as well.

Hire the handicapped

Posted on      by     

Price. Less.


Whose idea was it? Dunno, but he’s a fuckin’ diabolical genius, is what he is. Did I not TELL you guys that having two (2) mentally-incapacitated rutabagas in DC was gonna yield up comedy gold? Folks, it just doesn’t GET much better than that. Reminds me of this classic skit.

Halp us, Handi Man—John Kary has failed, so only you can save us now!

Thanks (I think) to Brack for the steer.

Update! Yes, yes, I know I said “two” above, which was technically in error, being a serious undercount and all. Hell, Biden, Veggerman, and Feinstein all punch so much higher than their actual weight when it comes to retardation that, between them, they run up the score to waaaay on past mere single digits.

Updated update! Yep, the delightful pairing wasn’t a hoax or some kind of beautiful, beautiful dream. It really did happen.

Sen. John Fetterman garbles words, wears baggy shorts during event with Biden in Philadelphia
Sen. John Fetterman dressed for a day on a basketball court Saturday to greet President Biden in Philadelphia — then stumbled over his words as he spoke to the media.

The Pennsylvania Democrat, in baggy shorts, sneakers, and a light blue hoodie, was unable to pronounce words such as “delegation” and “infrastructure” as he made a garbled one-minute statement after Biden toured the collapsed I-95 overpass that has snarled traffic throughout the northeast.

“This is a president that is committed to infructure,” said Fetterman, 53, who continues to grapple with the effects of a stroke he suffered last May as he campaigned for his Senate seat.

Biden, he said, “is here to commit to work with the governor and the delegadation to make sure that we get this fixed quick, fast, as well, too.”

The freshman senator also praised Biden’s $1.2 trillion infrastructure bill, calling it “the jewel, kind of a law, of the infra, infration, infriction bill that is gonna make sure that there’s bridges like this all across America getting rebuilt.”

Ohhh, this guy’s good. Better than good, actually. He just might out-gobbledegook Biden, the acknowledged master. Via Bill, who quips: I doubt either man had any clue what the other was talking about. Or where he was, or how he got there.

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A real leemer

Posted on      by     

LEEMER noun (FEAR, DREAD): Fighter-pilot slang for an unspecified quantity of ice-cold piss injected directly into the heart; describes the feeling a Naval carrier aviator might experience in reaction to, for example, a ramp strike, sudden in-flight engine failure (flameout), or a cold cat shot.

House damaged, person injured after aerobatic display collision

Two aircraft from the Swiss military aerobatic display team, Patrouille Suisse, collided on Thursday with falling debris hitting a house. One person on the ground was slightly injured in the accident.

The two F-5 Tiger planes were part of a formation practicing for a yodelling festival in canton Zug, central Switzerland.

The nose cone of one aircraft broke off and hit a house in the vicinity of the town of Baar, damaging the façade of the building and slightly injuring one person with shattered glass.

The braking parachute of the other aircraft deployed in mid-air but caused no damage and was later recovered.

All the seven aircraft involved in the practice session landed safely and no pilot was injured, according to the defence ministry.

Bayou Pete has video of the incident shot from ground-level, in which the midair and the loss of the nose cone from off the aircraft flying Number Three position can be easily, if not necessarily clearly, seen (older eyes may need to squint a little). Watching his miraculous recovery from a mishap which might very well have ended in real tragedy, all’s I can say is that Number Three’s pilot is one hell of a shit-hot stick—a truly badass fighter jock and one VERY cool customer to boot. For that, I salute you, sir.

The Northrop F5 Tiger, by the by, is a twin-engined supersonic air superiority/ground attack aircraft flown by the USAF and many of our ally nations beginning in the mid-60s, with 400 of them still in service as of 2021. They saw widespread use in the USAF, USMC, and USN during the Vietnam War, until changes in Air Force doctrine had them more or less dumped for larger, heavier aircraft such as the F4, the F100, and the F105 Thud. The Navy used them after the war at its renowned Fighter Weapons School (TOPGUN), mostly as either trainers or OPFOR adversary aircraft. They’re also widely seen in movies, albeit usually mislabeled as something else entirely for some bizarre reason—as everything from Phantoms to MiGs, which I always found hilarious.

The F5 is small, light, nimble, and more durable than one might expect at first glance, given those first two qualities. Although it was a pretty good aircraft, and any military pilot worth his wings will be quite familiar with it, the F5 somehow never quite achieved the same fame as the Phantom II, the F86 Saber, or latter-day siblings like the F14 Tomcat. The Tiger is a pretty, graceful-looking little thing for sure.

F5Tiger

That one’s in USAF livery, all kitted out with a full combat load of Mavericks and Sidewinders. Impressive, no?

The Trannytittygate scramble

Posted on      by     

As the “Biden” junta trips over itself desperately trying to backpedal on the White House “Pride Party” Trannytittygate fiasco, Stacey Lennox offers some excellent suggestions on how the object lesson might be driven fully home for these inept, bumbling doofi.

Maybe don’t live your truth and express your joy in front of kids at an official government function. This was predictable as soon as hosting YouTube stars at the White House became a thing. It started with a woman who bathed in Fruit Loops, moved on to Dylan Mulvaney looking like a garish Audrey Hepburn with an Adam’s apple, and ended with people stripping on the White House lawn. Our enemies are laughing.

Hell, can you blame ‘em? At this point, I’M laughing right along with them myself.

If a bit of embarrassment is all it takes to roll back the revolutionary LBGT+ lunacy, here are a few other things we should demand the White House schedule immediately. First, have Joe Biden attend a “family” drag show in a tavern. Put him right in the front row to observe how grown men in dresses interact with children. If he’s lucky, the organizers will let him sniff the hair of a kid or two.

Then, they should send Jill Biden to a local junior high. As an educator, this should be an easy ask. During her visit, she needs to read aloud selected passages of Gender Queer on camera. Remember, these books are necessary, so there is no reason the event should not stream live on Twitter.

As compassionate as she is, she should visit at least one teen boy and one teen girl in the hospital after transition surgery. Then the butcher who performed the double mastectomy or orchiectomy should explain the surgery and recovery in detail. She should also meet with Jazz Jennings’s mother, who can describe the lifelong “wound care” for boys who receive vaginoplasties. Again, these events should be broadcast live, preferably before the end of Pride month.

Then, I would like the president and his wife to welcome Chloe Cole to the White House. Cole is a young woman suing the doctors who provided her testosterone and performed a double mastectomy as a teen. They should be forced to look her in the eye and assure her she received “life-saving care” because nothing could be further from the truth.

Sounds good to me, I’m all in. Let’s do this, people!

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