I look forward to the rioting

Just another poor innocent Dindu beaten to death by the cops.

Local Memphis Looter-American Tyre Nichols, who wuz a good boy and dindu nuffin wrong, was nevertheless beset upon by five fellow Looter-American po-leece who engaged in a little pre-trial punitive action, allegedly beating him so badly that he died a few days later.

This be Tyre, the usual smiling face and dressed up picture families always find.

Tyre was apparently pulled over for reckless driving and then took off. At some point all five of the fellas got in some licks on Tyre and he was in critical condition when he was taken to a local hospital where he subsequently died. For good measure two members of the Memphis Fire Department were also fired for reasons I haven’t seen yet.

The video of what happened is set to be released tomorrow night apparently. It seems like a great idea to release a video of a black dude being beaten to death on a Friday night, I am sure that famous self-control will keep a lid on things. A local news report quoting an attorney for the family claims he was beaten for three minutes by the cops, which doesn’t sound like a long time unless you are the one getting beaten by five dudes. The same local news story claims that at least some of the cops involved were part of a special police unit…

Some of the officers involved have been identified as belonging to an MPD unit called SCORPION, which stands for Street Crimes Operation to Restore Peace in Our Neighborhoods.

The unit launched in November 2021 and focuses on preventing auto theft and gang-related violence and was structured to have some coordination with the Multi-Agency Gang Unit.

I guess they restored some peace that night. I expect the video is going to show at least five cops going apeshit on this guy, and while there isn’t an excuse for beating someone to death I do hope that the entire video is played to see what led up to his death.

Regardless of what the video shows, you can be sure this is all somehow my fault.

Well, I mean, DUH. Ahh, but there’s something of an unanticipated twist to this particular story, one you’ll want to click on over to Arthur’s place to find out about.

Chimpout update! And so it begins.

WATCH: Tyre Nichols protesters block freeway traffic in Memphis

‘Stand up, fight back,’ Tyre Nichols protesters shout as they block traffic on a freeway bridge

MEMPHIS – Tyre Nichols protesters blocked traffic on a Memphis freeway Friday night after video was released showing police beating the young Black man as they attempted to arrest him.

“Stand up, fight back,” the protesters chanted on the I-55 bridge, video captured by Fox News shows.

Protesters gathered and marched after an hour of video footage was released showing police beat Nichols. The 29-year-old was hospitalized after the encounter, but died three days later.

“We shuttin’ it down,” one protester can be heard shouting.

“By any means necessary,” another said.

Dey be demandin’ jussis ’n’sheeeit, yo. Looting to follow, although the article notes that businesses in downtown Memphis have wisely boarded up their street-level windows in anticipation of the impending conflagration.

Updated chimpout update! Wilder comments thusly, and I quote:

Wow! Nike shoes, 100% off!

Thanks, Tadarrius!

What can one say but: Heh.

Fanning the flames update! Glenn quips:

Here we have a black man, killed by black officers in a majority-black city run by Democrats, the offending police have all been charged and the authorities seem to be taking the crime quite seriously, but everyone expects riots all over because…well, just because.

I don’t suppose the news media have anything to do with that.

No, of course not. Perish the thought.


But…but…but…all the best people have long assured me that it is literally impossible for any black person to be Rayciss™! If the hypocritical jackwagons couldn’t contradict themselves twelve times before lunch every day, they’d be left entirely unable to speak at all.

2

More on those electric Harleys

Thanks to Himself for hipping me to this vintage Eric Peters post, from 2018.

The Electric Suicide of Harley-Davidson

Imagine a Harley that doesn’t vibrate. No bark through the straight pipes when you push the starter button. No nothing through the pipes – which aren’t there anymore.

There is no starter button.

Just an On/Off switch.

No shifter, either. Because no gears.

All that remains is the “Harley” name on the tank – which isn’t one because it will never be used to store any gas. Might as well paint it on the side of your toaster.

Welcome to the 2019 LiveWire – Harley’s first electric motorcycle. The first of a whole line of them – intended to be ready by 2025.

They’re betting the future of the company on it.

If you have any Harley stock, better unload it.

Quickly.

Because an electric Harley is as silly as juice-bar speakeasy. It runs counter to the point.

People buy motorcycles – and especially Harley motorcycles – because they make that sound.

And also because of the smells – of gas and oil – which attend those sounds. Without which you’ve got what amounts to alcohol-free beer.

Or a girlfriend who won’t sleep with you.

Heh. Indeed. Oh, you’ll for sure be getting yourself a good fucking alright, but you won’t enjoy a single minute of it.

This is not going to end well. For the intangible reasons already articulated – a BLT without the bacon – and for other more tangible reasons.

Harleys – more than any other make of bike – appeal to the cruiser. The long-haul rider. The open road.

But electric bikes – like electric cars – are stunted by abbreviated operational range. A 2019 V-twin Sport Glide carries 5 gallons of easily and quickly replaced gas and gets 47 MPG. It thus can travel almost 240 miles – and when the tank runs low, this Harley can be back on the road in minutes.

That is freedom.

With the LiveWire, you are tied to an electric umbilical cord.

The opposite of freedom.

Yes, t’is, with cars and bikes both. Which is precisely why TPTB insists so vehemently on cramming their blasted EVs down our collective throat.

Over at Eric’s place, there are a cpl-three Harley-hating sourpuss types in the comments who scornfully profess their complete lack of concern for whether H-D carries on as an independent motorcycle manufacturer or not, and who the hell would want one of the outdated POS dinosaurs anydamned way? They’re missing the point at issue, which is, was, and shall eternally remain freedom. This ain’t about motorcycles and/or who makes ‘em. Ultimately, it’s about taking your freedom away from you, nothing more nor less. Y’know, just like with everything else.

2

Checking into Hotel USSR

Just emailed Oleg Atbashian to tell him I finished reading his autobiographical tome, Hotel USSR, and am now going through it a second time to make notes for use in my review of it here, which I should have up probably in another week, maybe two. And MAN ALIVE, but this book is powerful indeed! It’s written in a straightforward, matter-of-fact style, which only serves to intensify the impact of the relentless brutality and inhumanity chronicled therein.

I’ve been reading and excerpting Oleg’s People’s Cube humor blog for years now, and never realized that he grew up in the Ukraine, and was born the same year I was. Our upbringing and youthful experience as Children of the 60s and 70s couldn’t have been more different, alas for him.

No matter how well-informed you might be, how carefully and thoroughly you’ve educated yourself about what life might be like under full-bore totalitarian tyranny, Oleg’s story comes at you like a sharp punch in the gut. As far along the same dismal road as the US has come, let me assure you that we have no idea what it was like for the victims of the heartless thuggery and oppression that was simply the stuff of everyday existence in the Soviet Union. It’s monstrous, no more nor less. How people like Oleg managed to get through it all with their souls and spirits still relatively intact and functioning is far beyond my ken.

Yet more baffling, and infuriating, is our domestic Useful Idiots who continue to this day to lobby hard for a Made In America emulation of this abominable regime. The clueless dolts know not what they wish for, a truth that Hotel Russia makes perfectly clear. God forbid that they should ever get their way. Every last one of them should be forced to read it, with a gun at their heads if need be.

More to come as and when, folks.

2

Inexpressibly sad

Boy, ain’t THAT the mot juste.

For Gerard

I know that most of you have gotten the news that Gerard Vanderleun is in hospice care now. It is inexpressibly sad.

I’ve been wrestling with this for a while. And by “this” I mean: how to say what I’m about to say. Anyone who reads this blog knows I’m a very private person and don’t go in for much disclosure, dramatic or otherwise. But I’m about to write something very personal because detachment doesn’t work right now.

And it’s something Gerard wanted me to write, too, and so I’m doing this at least in part for him as well.

Gerard and I met through our blogging nearly eighteen years ago, became a couple about a year later and stayed that way for many years, and for the past ten or so years have been extremely close friends. We never lived together but would visit each other for lengthy periods, travel together, and have talked on the phone almost every day for most of the time we’ve been apart. He deferred to my need for privacy by not writing about our relationship, although I appear in some of his writings as the mysterious woman who was there for this or that occasion.

We’ve been in touch every day right through this illness, which came on so quickly and was diagnosed so recently – only this past Wednesday – that it took everyone by surprise. I am the “updater” at American Digest, too.

I’m very distraught, I’m on my way out west to see him, and this will be my only post for today. I’m not planning on giving a running account, but at some point I probably will write more about this.

Thank God for your presence in Gerard’s life, Neo, and may He bless you for being there in this good and gentle man’s hour of greatest need. She does indeed have a brief followup post.

I saw Gerard yesterday and I believe he’s quite close to death, perhaps days to a week. I’m not going to go into details except to say that meaningful conversation seems to have ceased, and he has also stopped drinking water. He’s being cared for attentively at a good place.

It is very hard to face losing his enormous presence in my life.

I’m sure it is. We’ll all lose something unique and wonderful when GVDL finally departs this vale of tears.

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And now for something completely different!

After story after story demonstrating that the po-po are NOT on our side, this makes quite a refreshing change.

Vaughan Ettienne

NYPD at New York City Police Department (2001–present)Updated 4y

As a police officer, what is one instance where you couldn’t decide whether to arrest someone or let them go?

Once my partner and I responded to a call of a shoplifter. It was a 16-year-old girl who had stolen a scientific calculator. We called her dad and he began crying for shame over the phone. He said that she has SATs the next day and despite him working very hard to support his family, he could not afford the calculator. She told us the same thing. The store manager said that corporate policy mandated him to press charges. With a heavy heart, we brought her in. Somehow that paperwork got so botched that the case never made it to court and was dismissed (oops!). Also, on our way out of the store, my partner and I purchased that calculator. We knew someone who needed it.

Awww. Good on ya and your fellows, officer.

6

A coup, if you like

Just now noticing it, are ya?

Jeremy Clarkson: We’re in the midst of a coup. Who the hell’s behind it?

Not in the middle of one; it’s long since been over and done with, I’m afraid. As to wondering who’s behind it, you can’t really be serious about that one.

My son came over for a father-and-son pre-football supper the other day, and as he fussed over the Aga, making a particularly fine stir fry, we laughed about what innocuous word had been banned that day and who’d been cancelled. And then, after a pause, he said with a solemn face, “You do know there’s a war going on, don’t you?”

He wasn’t talking about Ukraine. He was talking about a full-on left-wing campaign to unstitch and burn the fabric of Britain. And the genius is that no one really knows that what they’re doing is serious. We laugh as they change the name of the Sir Francis Drake Primary School to something less slavey. We think it’s all a big joke. But it isn’t.

Think about what typically happens in a military operation and then look what the woke left has done here. It’s seized control of our television and radio stations to such an extent that last week Sophie Raworth said, on the BBC News at Six, with a straight face, “And over now to our LGBT and diversity correspondent …”

And TV drama? Unaffected? Right, and when was the last time you saw a fictional police force hunting a gang of Muslim extremists? It’s always the far right. And it’s the same story in comedy. Say anything you like about Boris or Rishi and the laughter track is turned up to 11. Make a joke about she/him pronouns or Greta Thunberg and they’ll blow a piece of tumbleweed across the stage.

You probably think, because you don’t know this war is going on, that when you drop little Johnny off at the school gates he’s going to learn the nine times table that day. No, he isn’t. He’s learning that he might actually be a girl, which is why there are probably tampon dispensers in the boys’ lavatories.

When some young people with green hair glue themselves to the road, large numbers of officers are dispatched to stand around looking at them. And they are only ever removed from the tarmac if they promise to go immediately to the nearest art gallery and throw some soup at a painting.

You’ll definitely want to read all of this one, folks. Even though he’s writing about Jollye Olde, across the pond we’re tailgaiting them down the same sorry road ourselves.

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Blinded by reality

Yet again, I say: TINVOWOOT.

We are approaching eight years since Trump descended the golden escalator of Trump Tower; in many ways the decline has accelerated. The Republican establishment, however, does not seem to have learned much in the intervening years, and still has very little to offer. This was most clearly on display during the midterm elections when, despite the smug predictions of an inevitable “red wave,” some were keen on the idea that some hollow “Commitment to America” would motivate voters to overwhelm the polls.

To the surprise of no one who has not been in the establishment or a coma, it failed. Perhaps for good reason, Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell (R-Ky.) blithely informed us following the GOP’s embarrassing midterm performance that providing military aid for the Ukraine should be our top priority, and a dozen more of our Grand Old Party elected officials voted in favor of codifying the redefinition of marriage.

Our elites ruthlessly trample upon the very foundations of America; they seek to destroy the good, deny beauty, and ultimately lead souls on the path to destruction. This unsustainable ideology has produced nothing but depression, confusion, and harm.

Yet, in a civilization at its breaking point, where one is reprimanded for espousing basic truths, this major party has nothing positive to offer. Have they been so deflated by the lies from our enemies’ tongues, that the absolute best we can look forward to is forbidding scandalizing sexual education policies until third grade? Once the child hits the age of 9, all bets are off?

A soft-spoken, low-energy politician with a “serious strategy,” simply clinging onto the toothless abstractions of freedom and individualism is insufficient. The summation of the Right’s worldview—should it provide a muscular alternative to the current course of decline—cannot simply be: but we’re not them!

As Peter Thiel reminded us at the 2022 National Conservatism conference, even Florida in 2022 fails to provide the foundation for a long-term alternative model to the one offered by California.

America needs a proven leader, and a visionary to capture the intangible—someone who will not merely motivate the masses to get to the polls but who can craft a meaningful vision in which Americans can place their hope. It needs a vision for American excellence: a sovereign nation under God that embraces Truth, not rejects it.

Any such person is doomed from the git-go by those very qualities, and has no more chance of becoming President in our entirely rigged system than I do. “But we’re not them”? Au contraire, mon frere: you absolutely, positively ARE them, which is the root of the whole problem.

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Puppetmaster switcheroo

Ladies and gents, it appears we have ourselves a new President.

Jeff Zients to replace Ron Klain as President Biden’s chief of staff: report

Former Obama administration official Jeff Zients is reportedly a likely replacement for Ron Klain as President Biden’s chief of staff.

Politico, citing three unnamed sources, reported Sunday that Zients, a close Biden confidant who ran the White House’s COVID-19 response, is widely expected to step into the role.

Klain, 61, is believed to be stepping down from the job, and has apparently been saying he’s been ready to leave since the 2022 midterms.

Zients, 56, would step in as Biden is marred by scandal over classified documents found at the Biden family’s personal residence. On Saturday, a lawyer for Biden announced federal investigators had found more classified docs — some dating back to Biden’s long Senate tenure.

There is no apparent connection between Klain’s impeding departure and the classified docs scandal.

Think so, do ya? Because from where I sit, it sure has the look of rats fleeing a sinking ship as the classified-docs scandal keeps right on getting deeper, broader, and worser.

4

Kings of the boogie

That’s what they used to call Canned Heat, whose “Goin’ Up The Country” vid I posted last night as accompaniment to a post on a topic other than music. It’s hilarious, how the boys keep poking fun at the fact that they’re lip-syncing, with the flautist and bassist not even bothering to pretend they’re playing at all here and there.

Then I saw this comment at NC Renegades:

Great old song there from my youth. My first born daughter was inspired by it so much she took up the flute as her 1st instrument in school band class. It would make a most excellent boogaloo song too.

…and that’s when I knew I simply HAD to embed another great Canned Heat tune as an encore. So Robehr Orinski, this one’s for you, buddy.

Ohhhhh yeah, Kings of the boogie is RIGHT.

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Leftard feeling froggy

So jump already then, motherfucker.

FroggyLeft

I will refrain from offering any further commentary on this my own self, so as to allow you guys space to sound off in the comments yourselves, beyond a most hearty “Let’s get this party started, douchetool!” I’m quite sure y’all will have plenty to say about it, and look forward to reading your own thoughts. The responses over at CA’s joint pretty much cover anything I might have to say to this mouthy pussyfart, anyway.

Update! Hopefully, they’ll play this classic at the scraggly-ass bitch’s funeral.

3

Admissions of error

They seem to be going around of late.

The Biden Administration Finally Admits Its Mistake in Canceling the Keystone XL Pipeline

At long last, the Biden administration is admitting what experts have always known: reckless energy policies have disastrous consequences. This time, the Department of Energy quietly released a report highlighting the positive economic benefits of developing the Keystone XL pipeline from Canada, an energy project canceled by President Biden in the hours following his inauguration. 

But the DOE’s report is a proverbial day late and a dollar short. The cancelation of the Keystone XL pipeline has already cost the United States thousands of jobs and billions in economic growth while families suffer under the weight of record high energy prices. It’s time for lawmakers to make American energy independence a top priority. 

Released without a formal announcement, the DOE’s report points out that the pipeline would have created between 16,149 and 59,000 jobs and would have had an economic benefit of between $3.4 and 9.6 billion. That’s no small impact. Yet with one stroke of his pen, Biden slashed the project and instead focused his efforts on costly “green energy” goals. As a result of his executive action, 11,000 pipeline workers were promptly laid off and told to “go to work to make solar panels” instead. 

But Biden’s green energy efforts are bound to backfire sooner rather than later. That’s because today, more than 70 percent of the energy produced and consumed in America comes from oil, gas and coal. That’s not likely to substantially change anytime soon. In fact, the International Energy Agency predicts that oil’s share of energy production in the United States will only fall 8 percent in the next two decades, from 31 to 23 percent. And that’s assuming a sustained commitment to green energy policies. The forecast spells bad news for the Biden White House. At his political peril, Biden ignores the lessons of Presidents Jimmy Carter and George H. W. Bush, who both lost elections due to spiked oil prices and accompanying recessions.

Oh, I’m beginning to suspect, strongly, that Old Joe is going to die of Suddenly™ well before the next sham “election” season rolls around. But Joe’s Folly isn’t the only mea culpa to be found out there.

Pro-Vaxx Dilbert Creator Scott Adams Admits Profusely “The Anti-Vaxxers Win”

Mark Twain is often misattributed as saying, “It’s easier to fool people than to convince them that they have been fooled.” The sentiment is definitely Twainesque, but he never said it. Nevertheless, it’s still true and demonstrable time and again in our post-truth society.

As more “normies” have started waking up to the reality that the Covid-19 “vaccines” are ineffective and dangerous, a lot are finding new ways of defending their decisions to get jabbed rather than admitting it was a mistake. Conservative comic Scott Adams, who is most famous for creating the Dilbert comics, is not one of those people. He’s now admitting that “anti-vaxxers won” in regards to their decision.

In fact, he admitted it over and over again.

“All of my fancy analytics got me to a bad place,” he said. “All of your heuristics — ‘don’t trust these guys’ is obvious — totally worked.”

Blindly trusting the US government and its horde of bought and paid-for faux “experts” never does work out too well, not for anybody.

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4

“Dead names” for soul-dead kids

Turns out “gender dysphoria” was exactly the right name for it.

Amy says her daughter was 15 — and just broken up with her boyfriend — when her daughter told her, “I’m trans, and I need a new name.” It didn’t seem real to Amy. “This was coming from somewhere else. It wasn’t organic,” Amy revealed in a new documentary.

When Helen’s son Jonas, then 4, told her he was a girl, she figured, “So one day, he’s a girl, the next he’s a fish.” Helen and her wife split up because her ex-wife saw Jonas as Rosa.

Hm. I think I’m beginning to see the underlying issue here, mayhap.

After Bill’s son Sean went to college, Sean decided he was female. Sean was diagnosed with cancer at an early age and lost a leg to the disease. After he died of the illness, Sean’s funeral turned into a cultural war skirmish, as Sean’s college friends pressed Bill to call his late son “Ellie.”

Sean, you see, was a “dead name,” the transitioned reserve for their names assigned at birth.

Dead Name is also the title of a 50-minute documentary about how the explosion in gender transitioning has affected three families.

According to Reuters, the number of new diagnoses of gender dysphoria for children aged 6 to 17 nearly tripled from 2017 to 2021.

There’s no good scientific explanation for the explosion.

Nope, but there’s damned sure a societal one, a cultural one.

Something new update! Steyn called it back in 2015.

To be sure, as the chromosomocentrists argue, one cannot, biologically, “change sex”. But I’ll skip that argument, because, as usual, conservatives are fighting over ground the left has already scorched and moved on from for new conquests. I have no great objection to a grown man who “identifies” as a woman and wishes to live as one. Guys have been doing that, to one degree or another, throughout history, and all that’s happened is that cosmetic surgery has caught up with their desires. If half the women in California can walk around with breast implants, I don’t see why the chaps can’t.

But the chromosomocentrists are missing the point. The left’s saying, “Yeah, XY chromosomes, big deal. You’re right, but so what? No one’s saying she’s a woman. We’re saying she’s a transwoman – a new, separate and way more glamorous category that’s taking its seat at the American table and demanding public affirmation. This isn’t your father’s sex change. Changing from man to woman is so last century.”

The coronation of Caitlyn is ultimately not about the right to choose which of the two old teams you want to play on. It’s about creating a cool new team. The “T” was always the relatively sleepy end of LGBT, and didn’t ostensibly have much in common with the other three-quarters of the acronym. The company it keeps only makes sense if the object of transitioning is not to “pass” but to create a new assertive identity group in and of itself.

What happened this week was a strange mix of Huxley and Orwell, Brave New World and Nineteen Eighty-Four, hedonism and totalitarianism, sexual diversity and ruthless conformity in everything else – a stiletto heel stamping on a human face, forever.

Or until the mullahs take over.

Yep. As I always say, nobody is wrong a hundred percent of the time, about everything. Not even the Mooselimbs.

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3

Gawd help us

A black day for bikers will be dawning soon.

Harley-Davidson Will Soon Be All-Electric, CEO Says

As the celebration of its 120th anniversary kicks off, Harley-Davidson knows it needs to evolve in order to survive.

The storied American motorcycle maker may have spun off the battery-powered Livewire as its own separate brand, but that doesn’t mean the brand isn’t fully committed to electrification. In fact, its CEO, Jochen Zeitz, says that company will eventually only make electric bikes.

Jochen Zeitz, huh? Now THERE’S a real all-American name for ya. Kinda like all those native-born Englishters with monikers like Habib Abdullah and Rajnej Prajneesh, I suppose.

“At some point in time, Harley Davidson will be all-electric,” the executive recently told Dezeen. “But that’s a long-term transition that needs to happen. It’s not something you do overnight.”

Needs to happen? Um, no it doesn’t. It really, really doesn’t.

Zeitz’s pronouncement seems guaranteed to make a not-insignificant portion of the manufacturer’s customer base cringe. For many enthusiasts, the thing that really sets a Harley apart from other motorcycles—American-made or otherwise—is a thunderously loud internal combustion engine. But the company knows that no matter how important those large-displacement mills might be change is on the horizon.

Correction: a thunderously loud V-TWIN internal combustion etc. Preferably, with the jugs canted at a comely 45 degrees, not 90 like the Jap crappers and other foreign-copycat “cruiser” style bikes run. Anything else is just another rice burner. The angle of the dangle is what produces that sweet, lumpy “potato-potato-potato” idle sound, which cynical, old-school Harley mechanics like moi have for years maintained sounds much more like “to-the-dump-to-the-dump-to-the-dump-to-the-dump.” That sound is so distinctive, so beloved, that H-D actually tried to claim it as their exclusive legal property.

A major component of Harley’s lasting appeal is the sound of the engine—a kind of potato-potato-potato rhythmic mantra of America engineering. Making a V-twin is fairly easy, but Harley chose the easiest way to do it in having the two connecting rods share a single pin on the crankshaft. This means the 45-degree offset of the cylinders is also a 45-degree offset in ignition. That short gap between power strokes means there is a “bang-bang-pause” sound that rhythmically comes out of the exhaust. The wasted-spark ignition also affects the sound, since it is throwing spark into the front cylinder that is not on its power stroke just because the rear cylinder is. The signature sound really is that simple.

When I say signature sound, it is worth noting the difference between “signature” and “trademarked”. Harley Davidson tried, unsuccessfully, to trademark its exhaust note in 1994. Vibration is just as important as noise, and anyone that has ridden a Harley either loves or hates these rumblings. That shake is a byproduct of the two-connecting-rods-one-crankpin arrangement. This design makes is near impossible to counterbalence the engine to smooth things out, so instead of trying, Harley leans into it.

Hey, you don’t mess with success, Bub.

As for the wasted-spark thing, that can easily be rectified by installing a single-fire ignition rather than the OEM dual-fire arrangement, like my personal preference, the Crane HI-4. It’s the real-deal hot setup, not only because it’s single-fire but also because it allows you to retard the rear cylinder’s spark slightly, the better to cope with the fact that, being an air-cooled engine, that back one tends to run somewhat hotter than the front jug does. My old boss always recommended the dual-fire Dyna modules to our customers, owing simply to the fact that the Crane asking price was twice as high. For my money, though, the Crane was well worth it; three of my four hot-rod Sportys had ‘em, and they all ran like raped apes.

Hey, you gets what you pays for, right?

As for Harley’s all-electric ambitions, Ed quips:

Will the big electric choppers at least have a Jetsons-style bleebling sound as they zoom past?

Well, the aftermarket will probably come up with some sort of onboard sound system for that, but no matter. If it’s electric, then it ain’t a Harley, dammit.

Clueless update! Houston, we have a problem.

But after all, what does Harley-Davidson really have to offer aside from a bad boy image connected to loud exhaust pipes and the buy-American preferences of some motorcycle gangs clubs? I am not a biker nor an expert on motorcycles,

Why the hell are you still talking, then?

but I spent a lot of time as a consultant to two of the world’s biggest auto manufacturers and talked to a lot of engineers about manufacturing tolerances and other arcana of internal combustion engines, and I know that Harleys are not exactly pushing the frontier of excellence. In fact, one American executive with whom I worked was an enthusiast and drove a BMW machine, while others praised the engine technology of Japanese manufacturers.

Uh huh. So perhaps you could explain to me why it might be that every single one of the Big Four Jap maufacturers offers at least one transparently-obvious Harley clone in their model lineup, usually several of the ghastly things?

For many years now, Harleys have primarily appealed to older bikers—ironbutt types who think nothing of getting up early on a Saturday morning and taking a 250-300 mile jaunt, one way, in a pack, just to go to some diner out in the boonies and have breakfast. These guys don’t give a fat rat’s ass about canyon-carving, flying down a twisty mountain road as fast as they possibly can, urban lane-spliitting through monstrous traffic, or LeMans style road-racing.

No, what they like is a nice, laid-back putt way out on some gently-winding country two-lane, on a plush, easy-riding, low-slung sled they’ve made uniquely their own via extensive customization. For them—s’cuse me, for us–it’s all about being In The Wind, getting their knees in the breeze, enjoying that special frisson of total freedom that comes along with that, and nothing else. And yes, the tradition, cachet, and mystique of an American-made V Twin is the only thing that does it for ‘em.

Yes, some of us are indeed horsepower junkies too, which extra ponies can easily be had from a Harley engine with relatively little effort or expense, most of which bolt-on tweaking can be done in your own garage or backyard shed without specialized tools and/or machinery.

Especially my beloved Sportsters. Love them lean, mean little beasties, and I always will.

The old HD bumper-sticker adage still holds perfectly true: If I have to explain, you wouldn’t understand.

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3

Another crash ‘n’ burn

You may have noted pRetend “pResident” Pedo Joe’s mangling of Thomas Jefferson’s famed “Tree of Liberty” quote in this post from last night. Or maybe you didn’t, I dunno. But either way, it inspired me to try my hand at making a meme out of it—which didn’t turn out as well as I would’ve hoped, thanks to my complete lack of any real GIMP-fu.

In fact, it was such a struggle and took so long to produce even the sub-par result below that I very nearly went into my daughter’s room to do the thing on the now-retired iMac, which still has a working copy of P-shop on it from my days working for the magazines (the new-to-me iMac won’t run any Adobe products at all thanks to some legacy 32-bit code tucked away in ‘em somewheres, a fact that still astounds me no end).

Understand: GIMP is good software, don’t get me wrong, and Lord knows the price (free) is right. But the learning curve for someone that’s been using P-Shop and Illy since, oh, about 1998 or so has turned out to be steep indeed. The nomenclature describing various tools and their functions is very different, and some things—like, say, the “Stroke” option, among others—just aren’t there at all; they don’t exist in GIMP, near as I’ve been able to determine. Others, such as “Drop Shadow,” “Bevel and Emboss,” “Find Edges,” and various text effects work in quite unexpected ways.

So y’all will just have to cut me some slack with this piss-poor meme, if you can find it in your hearts to do so. I’ve definitely come a long way from where I was when I first tried GIMP out, but I still have a long, long way to go with it yet. On the other hand, if I was the kind of guy who could pass up a chance this good to poke fun at senile Grampy Gropey just because my GIMP skills fall far, far short of the ideal, then hey, you probably wouldn’t be reading this damned blog in the first place, now wouldja?

TJefferBiden web

A sleazy, two-bit con artist like Bribem really ought to keep the immortal Jefferson’s words out of his lying mouth anyhow. Funny, don’tchathink, how he left the word “tyrants” out, ain’t it?

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