GIVE TIL IT HURTS

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Outlaw in a place where Outlaw is more than just another pose

Our bud S47 hips us to the punk and metal haps in Rooshya, Kazakhstan, and Georgia. Damned intriguing stuff, if you dig this sort of thing. Which, y’know, I do, actually. This offhand remark caught my eye but hard.

I think this next band is from Novosibirsk or someplace like that, reminds me a lot of Fetchin’ Bones, a band from North Carolina back in the 1980s:

Fetchin’ Bones, HA! Although her musical tastes, interests, and proclivities never much coincided with my own—too jangly-pop and avant garde to suit me by a long yard, meaning no offense if that happens to be your bag—I’ve nevertheless been good friends with F-Bones vocalist Hope Nicholls and her bandmate/hubby Aaron since just about forever. Friendly, warm, unpretentious, soft-spoken; they’re good kids, boih of ‘em (Kids? Hope was born almost exactly a month before I was…OOF!).

Years ago, I read a similarly-themed article about the punk rock underground in some of the more obscure corners of the old USSR, can’t remember where. Kerrang!, Spin, Maximum Rocknroll, perhaps? Some other glossy mass-market publication or hand-Xeroxed, stapled-together fanzine? Creem? Circus? Tiger Beat? Rolling Stone, Gawd help us?

Wherever it was, I must say the grim, true-life accounts of quasi-legal obstacles; constant harassment and/or abuse by omnipotent authorities; unpromoted small-venue shows being shut down by platoons of nameless, faceless, truncheon-wielding goons; arrest, incarceration, vicious beatings, etc made me feel like a contemptible, spoiled little dilettante by comparison.

After expending scads of time and effort convincing oneself how horribly you’ve suffered and sacrificed for Your Art, learning about people who have really had it tough can make one feel mighty dang small.

Forget, hell!

Unreconstructed Southron Baron Bodissey reports—with pitchers—on the ceremony commemorating the anniversary of the Appomattox tragedy/disaster.

Appomattox: Lest We Forget
This afternoon I attended a ceremony marking the 160th anniversary of the surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia (which I often sardonically refer to as “the Confederate Nakba”). It was organized by the Appomattox chapter of the United Daughters of the Confederacy, and took place at the Confederate Cemetery in the Appomattox Court House National Historical Park. The cemetery itself is on a plot of land that isn’t part of the historical park, and is owned by the UDC rather than the federal government. As a result, at that location we unreconstructed Confederates can engage in our customary activities without being busted for hate speech or otherwise interfered with.

The occasion began with a prayer. We then pledged allegiance to all three flags: the US flag, the Virginia flag, and the Confederate battle flag. Yes, I know some of those pledges are mutually exclusive, but nobody seems to care.

Speak for yourself on that one, young feller. Anyhoo. Onwards.

Following that there were a few brief speeches, several songs, and some reading of poetry. UDC members in widow’s weeds placed a rose by each grave, and two little girls set up battle flags next to each headstone. There are nineteen soldiers buried in the cemetery, all but seven of them unknown, including a solitary Union soldier (who got the Stars and Stripes next to his headstone).

Fuckin’ bluebellied Yankee sumbitch. Anyhoo. Onwards.

Then a number of wreaths were presented and placed next to the memorial stone by representatives of the groups that donated them, mostly chapters of the UDC or camps of the Sons of Confederate Veterans (SCV). Not all of the groups were local: one of the SCV camps that presented a wreath was based in Honolulu, Hawaii.

All in all, it was an excellent occasion. It was a reminder — at least for me — that the Confederate battle flag is not about slavery or tariffs or even states’ rights, but rather a symbol of resistance to tyranny, and a reminder that Virginia was invaded and devastated by an alien army.

Deo Vindice!

That penultimate paragraph pretty much says it all, far as I’m concerned.

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.

Trump’s got yer pronouns

Swingin’, mothafuckizz.

White House Uses Reporters’ Pronouns, Just Not the Way They Intended
There’s something deeply satisfying about watching the left’s cherished ideological markers being used against them. White House Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt is giving the mainstream media a taste of their own medicine, and it’s absolutely glorious.

In a delicious development, the Trump White House press office is flat-out refusing to respond to reporters who display their pronouns in email signatures. 

Heck, yes. I love it.

As do I. But the alluring Ms Leavitt has her reasons, and as you’d expect they’re well-thought out, logical, and eminently reasonable.

This isn’t just some arbitrary policy. It’s a brilliant statement about truth and reality in journalism.

When confronted about this practice, Leavitt delivered a devastating response: “Any reporter who chooses to put their preferred pronouns in their bio clearly does not care about biological reality or truth and therefore cannot be trusted to write an honest story.”

Fact check: True.

Indeed so. In fact, I’d go a bit further than that: “Any reporter who chooses to put their preferred pronouns in their bio” clearly is a fanatical ideological enemy of this President, his adminstration, the American people, and the United States of America itself. That being so (and it is), who gives a fat rat’s ass what such a one thinks—about anything at all? Ever?

Memezapoppin’!

Welcome to this week’s installment of our Wednesday meme feature, folks. Links to the “found via” sources will be attached to the specific MiQ’s (Memes in Question) whenever I can remember them, which likely won’t be very often. Only the first two memes will appear above the fold to save on bandwidth usage, since I assume not everybody who shows up at this here websty will want to see all of them. This intro will appear at the top of each week’s Memezapoppin’! post. Enjoy, funny-pitcher lovers.

Continue reading Memezapoppin’!

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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.

Down on the farm

Don’t recall exactly how or why, but I ran across this gem the other day, which came with an added kicker ere all was said and done.

The BPs covered this butt-rockin’ classic RaB tune for many years—a strict, straight-up rendition without any embellishment or “improvements,” not even in the guitar solo. It always got a solid response from the crowd, getting people out on the dance floor with a quickness to shake their booties joyously. But that additional kicker I mentioned? It’s in the YewToob comments section.

Crazy, man, crazy! As Fate would have it, Poe and his Poe Kats have a pretty storied history their own selves, which goes well beyond big Al Downing and “Down On The Farm.”

Bobby Nelson Poe, Sr. (April 13, 1933 – January 22, 2011), also known as The Poe Kat, was an American musician who had a long and varied career in the music business.

Bobby Poe was born in Vinita, Oklahoma. In the mid-1950s, he formed Bobby Poe and The Poe Kats, which featured African-American piano player Big Al Downing, lead guitar player Vernon Sandusky and drummer Joe Brawley. Bobby Poe and The Poe Kats were also Rockabilly Queen Wanda Jackson’s first Rock and Roll backing band. They toured with Wanda and can also be found on her early Capitol Records recordings, including the Rockabilly classic “Let’s Have a Party”. Bobby, Wanda, Big Al and Vernon are all members of the Rockabilly Hall of Fame.

Bobby Poe and The Poe Kats came to the attention of Sam Phillips of Sun Records with their first recorded track, “Rock and Roll Record Girl”. Based on the music of the old standard “Chattanooga Shoe Shine Boy”, “Rock and Roll Record Girl” was at first blocked from release by Wesley Rose of Acuff-Rose because of that fact. By the time all of the legal hurdles were cleared, Sam Phillips was no longer interested in releasing the track. Instead, Dallas, Texas radio personality Jim Lowe stepped in and released the single on his White Rock Records label. “Rock and Roll Record Girl” backed with “Rock and Roll Boogie” became a number 1 single in the state of Texas.

After one more single for Jim Lowe’s White Rock Records entitled “Piano Nellie”, under the name of Bobby Brant and The Rhythm Rockers (which was shortly thereafter picked up and re-released by EastWest Records), Bobby Poe gave up his career as an artist to become an artist manager. His first client was Big Al Downing. In the 1960s, Poe moved to the Washington, D.C. area and expanded his operation. He managed and co-produced The Chartbusters, which featured his old bandmate Vernon Sandusky. The Chartbusters scored a Top 40 hit in 1964 with their recording “She’s The One”. Tom Hanks was quoted in People Magazine as saying The Chartbusters were one of the influences for his film “That Thing You Do!”. Vernon Sandusky went on to play guitar in Country Music Hall of Famer Roy Clark’s band for over 20 years. Bobby Poe also co-managed The British Walkers, which featured Bobby (sometimes spelled Bobbie) Howard and legendary blues guitarist Roy Buchanan.

One of the things I’ve always loved about the music biz is the wild, wild stories lurking behind even the most ordinary-seeming artists. More unexpected twists and turns than the most remote mountain blacktop, that’s for sure.

The Daily Donnybrook, and other fine things

Welcome to Ye Aulde Colde Furye Blogge’s shiny new open-comments thread, where y’all can have at it as you wish, on any topic you like. All new posts will appear below this one. There will be blood…

Mike @Substack


New Eyrie posts go up every Monday and Friday, although the time of day may (and most likely will) vary. Mike’s latest Eyrie offering is available for perusal here: “Screamin’ meemie Monday!”

Please do consider subscribing to The Eyrie, gang; subscribers receive email notification whenever each new post goes live. All Eyrie articles are getatable (yes, that’s really a word—trust me!) for one and all to read and enjoy totally free of charge, regardless of subscription status. However, a paid sub is required to unlock commenting privileges—an almighty incentive to kick loose and chip in if ever there was one. Thanks!

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HUGE in NC, Appeals Court Ruling Favors Republican for Supreme Court

For those of us in the great state of North Carolina, there is news on the battle for the Supreme Court. In case you missed it, the republican “lost” by about 750 “votes” but claims some 60,000 ballots are illegitimate (they are). It’s been working it’s way through the courts and will eventually wind up in the state Supreme Court where republicans hold a 6-2 advantage. If Judge Griffins appeal is upheld it will become a 7-1 advantage and this just before statewide reapportionment lines are drawn.

Huge: Appeals Court Ruling in Undecided NC Supreme Court Race Favors GOP Candidate, Has Dems Scrambling

Not our allies—NOT!!!

The only genuine, real-deal aliies we have in the ME, actually. Damned (((JooJooJooJOOOOOOOZ!!!!)))

Oh wait, I forgot about Iran. Sorry for the slip-up, shitwits.

Israel Eliminates All Tariffs on U.S. Imports Ahead of ‘Liberation Day’
Israel has announced the removal of all remaining tariffs on imports from the United States, effective immediately. This decision, directed by Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and implemented by Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich and Economy and Industry Minister Nir Barkat, aims to strengthen economic ties with the U.S. and potentially reduce the cost of living in Israel.

The Prime Minister’s Office, Finance Ministry and Economy and Industry Ministry released a joint statement, saying:

“At the directive of Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich and Economy and Industry Minister Nir Barkat, Israel has cancelled all of the customs duties that have been levied until now on products from the US, Israel’s largest trading partner.

After the approval of the Knesset Finance Committee and the Economy and Industry Minister’s signature on the order, the amendment to the order regarding trade levies and protective measure will take effect and customs duties on all imports from the US will be cancelled.”

The U.S. and Israel have maintained a free trade agreement since 1985, resulting in approximately 99% of U.S. goods entering Israel tariff-free. The newly eliminated tariffs primarily affected a limited number of products, mainly in the food and agricultural sectors. In 2024, Israel’s exports to the U.S. totaled $17.3 billion, with services exports estimated at $16.7 billion.

Prime Minister Netanyahu emphasized that removing these tariffs aligns with his longstanding policy of opening Israel’s market to competition, diversifying the economy, and lowering living costs. He highlighted that this move not only benefits the Israeli economy and its citizens but also reinforces the special relationship between Israel and the United States.

Huh. How reasonable, helpful, and downright democratic of the hook-nosed Kike, eh?

Although Israel and the US have had and always will have their differences, squabbles, and divergences of national interest and/or policy—remember, nation-states don’t have friends, they have alliances, which are constantly shifting and evolving—the above-referenced “special relationship” is of tremendous benefit to both countries, in all sorts of ways. None but a fool, an infantile political naif, or a fanatical Jew-hating ignoramus would ever dream of contending otherwise.

You might not care much for Jews, even actively dislike them, which is jake with me. Certainly, the hardships, persecution, and ceaseless hostility Jews have faced across well over three millennia have inculcated and intensified a fair few unappealing habits of mind and personality traits in the Jewish people—a suffocating, quasi-pathological (albeit understandable, given the historical record) paranoia beng but one of those.

Growing up in the small-town South of the 1960s, my own experience of Jewish people was quite limited, to put it mildly. Until I moved to NYC, I had known precisely one (1) Jewish person my whole life: a downtown-Mt Holly clothing store owner and proprietor name of Julius Goldstein, who was a lovely, gracious, warm-hearted man. Mr Goldstein always had a moment to spare for a kindly, gentle word with a stone-bored young ‘un chafing to be anyplace but trapped in Goldstein’s establishment while my mom browsed through the dresses, blouses, hats, shoes, and such-like rubbish.

What with this bestowal of attention and sincere affection, plus a pocket full of those wonderful old Dum-Dum lollipops in assorted flavors (BUTTERSCOTCH! YESSSS!!!), dear old Mr Goldstein made what would have been an ordeal comparable to a trip to the dentist at least something close to bearable, bless his generous heart.

Years later in NYC I worked for an Israeli Jew who, although I hugely enjoyed wasting half my shift sitting by the front counter soaking up Jack’s colorful (crimson, mainly) reminiscences of his years of wartime soldiering with the IDF back in the Bad Old 1970s Days of nearly continual combat with various Arab states*, before he made the big move to Jew York Shitty (heh, sorry), was clearly and unapologetically an asshole stem to stern. After a few months of that I became friends with a smattering of other Jews my own age over my five-year stint in the Big Rotten Apple; these ones ran the gamut from friendly, personable young men and (mostly, who knows why) women to complete and utter pricks and/or cunts, same as with every other nationality or ethnicity I’ve ever spent any time around.

So yeah, go right ahead and hate on the Jews if you want; although I neither share nor much respect your blanket antipathy, I’m pretty much the last guy on Earth who’s likely to give you a ration of shit about it. Right up to the point, that is, where you start in trying to persuade me that our “natural allies” in the Middle East are actually the murderin’ Moslem savages and their godawful shitrapies. I don’t hold with that horsepuckey, not even a weency bit I don’t, and I never will.

See, I still remember the ghastly mid-morning hours of 9/11/01 MUCH too vividly to ever just sit back and passively listen to Word One of that noisome, toxic guff without positioning the battle-rifle for imminent action; checking my backstop; confirming I have a good, solid cheek-weld; chambering that all-important first round; and returning fire just as fast ’n’ furious as I can possibly manage, sorry.

Sending hot lead downrange in mass quantities: ain’t nothing like it but more of it. Ya feelin’ me here, bubba?

*I think it’s worth delving a little deeper into those endless wars of the 70s. Think of it: a 10 mile wide strip of dusty land, whose military is primarily made up not of full-time professional soldiers but of semi-trained civilians called up in extremis from their jobs, homes, and businesses for however long the war lasts.This ragtag collection of part-timers fought against the national militaries of several Arab nations which were all much bigger, more populous, better-equipped in terms of both quality of hardware and sheer numbers…and not merely held them off, but kicked their scraggly asses all to Hell and gone, again and again and again!

You’d think those bigger, stronger Arab states so thoroughly humiliated by (((Dem Pesky JooJooJooJOOOOZ!))) might have learned from those painful experiences, after eight or ten unsuccessful tries, and finally given up trying to fuck with their indomitable, battle-hardened Israelite adversaries as a bad job. But NOOOO…

Solid GOLD

Been rocking out with my cock out the last cpl-three days to some seriously good 70s style classic-rock stoner jams, with a sprinkling of punk rock thrown in, as churned out by the one, the only Fu Manchu. Git some

Drums pounding; bass throbbing; fuzztone guitars squalling in sweetest agony; vocalist shouting monotonally; ultra-plush 70s conversion vans a-rockin’ (don’t come a-knockin’!); vintage Ford Rancheros turning donuts; heads bangin’ and long hair flailing about, all in grainy, old school black and white—I ask y’all, what’s not to like here?

The thing I noticed right off about these Cully-forny boys when first I beheld ‘em soundchecking at CLT’s storied Snug Harbor dive bar/music venue long, long ago is how incredibly adept they were/are at working a miles-deep stoner rock groove calmly, patiently, relentlessly—painstakingly crafting a breakbone musical climax out of next to nothing at all in the way of raw material. Honestly, I’ve never seen anything quite like it, neither before nor since. This next selection is a pluperfect example of the Fu-Mu process.

See what I’m talking about, people? The song is built around one (1) single fucking NOTE, droningly recited throughout by the second guitar—although the bass and lead git-fiddle elaborate on the basic (!!) theme a bit, while never straying too far away from that one urgent note, that one crunchy-ass chord. Nonetheless, by the time the band brings the song’s unlikely climax crashing down over your heads, I defy any right-thinking rock aficionado to NOT be banging his head furiously in time with the music. It’s a joy and a wonder to behold.

KINDA-SORTA CAVEAT: Throughout my musical life, I’ve always felt that the fade-out was the last refuge of a rock and roll scoundrel. Having been raised on the Ramones, my firm rule has always been that you dive in, you hammer through it, and you get the hell out…but there must always, always, ALWAYS be a discrete ending. In most every rock and roll subgenre, fade-outs are cop-outs, to my way of thinking. They don’t do ‘em in classical; you hardly ever hear one in jazz or trad country or blues or big-band or rockabilly. So what makes the classic-rock crew, whether pioneering originals or latter-day revivalists, think they ought to get a pass?

Nope, nope, and NOPE, they shouldn’t. By my (slowly dimming) lights, the fade-out is and of right ought to be the exclusive province of stupid-ass, radio-friendly pop/disco crapola, old movies and/or TV shows, and, say, Frank Sinatra—and that is absolutely, positively IT. Although of course and as always, YMMV.

That said, the fade-out which wraps up “Laserbl’ast” works like a charm, even for my overly-exacting, picksniffity ass. In fact, it’s difficult to imagine this one ending any other way, really. So I suppose I’m willing to grant a special dispensation here, just this one time.

Ain’t but one way to properly enjoy rock and roll this tasty, this outstandingly scrumpdillyicious, and that’s cranked WAAAY the fuck up through a set of subwoofer-enhanced compooter speakers capable of toting the Fu Manchu load. The linked system is the one I have myself, and it’s been well worth every last penny of the measly sixty bucks I forked over to Amazon for it too, and then some. At only 50 watts, Lord knows it’s stout enough to drive my poor cats into hiding for the last few days.

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If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it eleventy bajillion times

This. This, right here.


Very simple, very easy, no? And yet somehow, all too damned many of us just can’t seem to get their cinderblock-heads around the concept. Guess certain Very Important Personages got too much to lose by jettisoning the present-day corrupt, fraudulent American “election” system in favor of something far more transparent, trustworthy, and commonsensical, which had served us so well for oh, a couple hundred years or thereabouts.

(Via Insty)

A brief history of American protectionism, tariffs, “free trade,” et al

PRO TIP: It was nothing like what you probably think it was.

Protectionism in the United States is protectionist economic policy that erects tariffs and other barriers on imported goods. This policy was most prevalent in the 19th century. At that time, it was mainly used to protect Northern industries and was opposed by Southern states that wanted free trade to expand cotton and other agricultural exports. Protectionist measures included tariffs and quotas on imported goods, along with subsidies and other means, to restrain the free movement of imported goods, thus encouraging local industry.

There was a general lessening of protectionist measures from the 1930s onwards, culminating in the free trade period that followed the Second World War. After the war, the United States promoted the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT), to liberalize trade among all capitalist countries. In 1995, GATT became the World Trade Organization (WTO), and with the collapse of Communism its open markets/low tariff ideology became dominant worldwide. Protectionism has increased in popularity since the election of Donald Trump in 2016.

Britain was the first country to successfully use a large-scale infant industry promotion strategy. However, its most ardent user was the U.S. Economic historian Paul Bairoch once called it “the homeland and bastion of modern protectionism” (Economics and World History: Myths and Paradoxes, Bairoch).

Britain initially did not want to industrialize the American colonies, and implemented policies to that effect. For example, banning high value-added manufacturing activities. Thus, the American Revolution was, to some extent, a war against this policy, in which the commercial elite of the colonies rebelled against being forced to play a lesser role in the emerging Atlantic economy. This explains why, after independence, the Tariff Act of 1789 was the second bill of the Republic signed by President Washington allowing Congress to impose a fixed tariff of 5% on all imports, with a few exceptions.

Most American intellectuals and politicians during the country’s catching-up period felt that the free trade theory advocated by British classical economists was not suited to their country. The US went against the advice of economists like Adam Smith, Ricardo and Jean Baptiste Say and tried to protect its industries. Alexander Hamilton, the first Secretary of the Treasury of the United States (1789–1795) and economist Daniel Raymond were the first theorists to present the argument of the emerging industry, not the German economist Friedrich List. List started out as a free trade advocate and only converted to the infant industry argument following his exile in the U.S (1825–1830).

Hamilton feared that Britain’s policy towards the colonies would condemn the United States to be only producers of agricultural products and raw materials. Washington and Hamilton believed that political independence was predicated upon economic independence. Increasing the domestic supply of manufactured goods, particularly war materials, was seen as an issue of national security. In his Reports, Hamilton argued that the competition from abroad and the “forces of habit” would mean that new industries that could soon become internationally competitive (“infant industries”) would not be started in the United States, unless the initial losses were guaranteed by government aid.

According to him, this aid could take the form of import duties or, in rare cases, prohibition of imports. He called for customs barriers to allow American industrial development and to help protect infant industries, including bounties (subsidies) derived in part from those tariffs. He also believed that duties on raw materials should be generally low. Hamilton explained that despite an initial “increase of price” caused by regulations that control foreign competition, once a “domestic manufacture has attained to perfection … it invariably becomes cheaper”.

In 1789, Congress passed a tariff act , imposing a 5% flat rate tariff on all imports. Between 1792 and the war with Britain in 1812, the average tariff level remained around 12.5%. In 1812, all tariffs were doubled to an average of 25%, in order to cope with the increase in public expenditure due to the war.

In 1816, a new law was introduced to keep the tariff level close to the wartime level—especially protected were cotton, woolen, and iron goods. The American industrial interests that had blossomed because of the tariff lobbied to keep it, and had it raised to 35 percent in 1816. The public approved, and by 1820, America’s average tariff was up to 40 percent.

According to Michael Lind, protectionism was America’s de facto policy from the passage of the Tariff of 1816 to World War II, “switching to free trade only in 1945”.

Somewhat surprising, no? What first got me to thinking about these weighty matters was Bayou Peter’s post on them, expounding Jeff Childers’s post on same. To wit:

It would be easy to dismiss yesterday’s announcement as dry, economic arcana — tariffs, trade deficits, bilateral agreements, country-by-country charts, and economic reports. But don’t be fooled by all the paperwork. What Trump did wasn’t just a historic across-the-board trade action.

It was a once-in-a-century power shift.

To understand how truly historic it was, look back to Bretton Woods, 1944 — the postwar deal where America agreed to carry the world’s economic burdens in exchange for geopolitical dominance.

After the devastation of WWII, the United States promised to help rebuild Europe and Japan, by opening our previously protected markets to foreign goods, keeping our tariffs low to nonexistent, providing the world’s reserve currency, and underwriting global security with American military power.

In return, other countries were supposed to gradually liberalize their economies, buy American goods, and play by the rules. But they never did.

Instead, they took our postwar deal —designed to help them— and ran with it. They piled up tariffs, non-tariff barriers, VAT taxes, and trade cheats while the U.S. kept its markets wide open.

For decades, the American working class footed the bill while foreign economies fattened themselves, and American elites made billions facilitating and perpetuating the grift. That was globalism. It’s not an ideology— it is a business model. And Trump just crushed the model.

I’ve always insisted that Trump is a helluva lot smarter than most people want to give him credit for. The obvious fact that he fully understands what his tariff moves are at bottom all about ought to establish his intelligence to all but the most reflexively stubborn Trump hater’s satisfaction.

Lots more yet to the above-linked posts, natch; dry and deadly dull as the subject matter may seem at first blush, you really, really want to read all three in their entirety.

Update! You gotta love it, you truly, truly do.

Tariff Liberation Day Has Arrived
Cue the mass hysteria. Donald Trump’s Liberation Day has arrived, as the decades of foreign nations tariffing our goods without reciprocal tariffs ends.

The tariff war between the United States and dozens of other nations just took a major escalation, as the president imposed reciprocal tariffs on a number of goods from a lengthy list of countries. (The tariffs are reciprocal in that if a nation tariffs 10% on U.S. goods, so will we on that nation’s products.) The president aims to bring manufacturing back to America and to cow hostile nations. While many economists and media figures are prophesying economic disaster, it is worth noting that tariffs during both Ronald Reagan’s presidency and Donald Trump’s first term boosted economic growth and wage increases here in America.

Trump declared in an executive order that he finds “underlying conditions, including a lack of reciprocity in our bilateral trade relationships, disparate tariff rates and non-tariff barriers, and U.S. trading partners’ economic policies that suppress domestic wages and consumption, as indicated by large and persistent annual U.S. goods trade deficits, constitute an unusual and extraordinary threat to the national security and economy of the United States.“

While other countries have been allowed to impose extortionate tariffs on American goods for decades, America has often not imposed reciprocal tariffs, leading to a very unbalanced and unfair system that often drives manufacturing and jobs out of the U.S. It remains to be seen if Trump’s new tariffs can successfully bring home jobs and boost our economy.

Let the shitlibs whinge and complain as loud and as long as they like, Mr President, sir. They’re going to anyway, no matter what you do or don’t do, which we all know full well by now. So let the sound of their rage, frustration, and bitter despair be as music to every ReichWingNaziDeathBeast© ear, sayeth I. Just more for decent, right-thinking Americans to point and laugh at, and that’s a thing of goodness.

Memezapoppin’!

Welcome to this week’s installment of our Wednesday meme feature, folks. Links to the “found via” sources will be attached to the specific MiQ’s (Memes in Question) whenever I can remember them, which likely won’t be very often. Only the first two memes will appear above the fold to save on bandwidth usage, since I assume not everybody who shows up at this here websty will want to see all of them. This intro will appear at the top of each week’s Memezapoppin’! post. Enjoy, funny-pitcher lovers.

Continue reading Memezapoppin’!

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Another tragic loss

Man, all anybody can seem to talk about is Top Gun and Batman YoMamaXVIVwhatthefuckever, of which he justly said, “I mean, it’s so bad, it’s almost good.” As of right now, inexplicably, I have yet to see one (1) single mention of his most memorable role, as Doc Holliday in Tombstone.

Actor Val Kilmer, star of ‘Batman Forever,’ ‘Top Gun,’ dead at 65

Kilmer succumbed to pneumonia, his daughter Mercedes told the New York Times. He was diagnosed with throat cancer, which required two tracheotomies, in 2015 and later recovered.

The Los Angeles native made his film debut as rock star Nick Rivers in the 1984 movie “Top Secret!,” which was written and directed by the comedy team that created “Airplane!”

Two years later, Kilmer was launched to superstardom for his role as Lt. Tom “Iceman” Kazansky in “Top Gun,” the highest-grossing movie of 1986.

Poor guy was in pretty rugged shape the last several years, but keep on choogling away as best he could nonetheless, which you gotta respect. Me, I’ll always remember him as he was here.

Godspeed to you, Val Kilmer, and sincerest thanks for all your excellent work.

Update! Changed the vid, on account of the death scene wasn’t the one I originally intended to post, this one is. My bad.

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