Do tell

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American Eagle jeans has fired back in the Great Jubbly War of 2025, and it’s wonderful, meet, and just.

I do so hate to be the bearer of bad news, so I’ll just step aside, shut up, and let Ace do the dirty work for me.

American Eagle has issued a response to ugly cat ladies unashamedly showing their envy and resentment that a white woman is getting more attention online than they are.

No, it’s not this one. This one is a parody, though most wish American Eagle would endorse it…

American Eagle’s genuine response is good enough: They are defiant, and they say, correctly, that a bunch of ugly harpies coping on TikTok and BlueSky is not real life, and that their own polling shows that 71% of respondents like the ad.

Happily, he’s perfectly correct on that. Click through for a partial screen grab of the unapologetic real response. Back over to Ace for the sum-up.

At the Federalist, Rich Cromwell writes that this contretemps, as stupid as it is, is important. It shows that the mentally-ill, unaccomplished social-media-addicted nobodies who have bullied, harrassed, and deplatformed us for ten years are shrieking because they’re realizing they have no power here.

They are nameless and formless and accursed. Like Sauron, they are now banished to the void from whence they came.

Even a complete dumbass ought to know better than to pick a fight with a pretty young woman who’s sporting a serious shirtfull of big, beautiful titties. Such abject cluelessness is bound to turn every Normal in the world against these Leftist screechweasels. To which I can only say: keep up the good work, shitlib imbeciles. More glad tidings from the Cromwell piece.

The Woke Scolds Who Look At Sydney Sweeney And See Hitler Don’t Control Culture Anymore
The arc of history is long, but it’s bending away from mentally ill, terminally online fun-crushers.

“Mentally ill, terminally online fun-crushers”? ZOMG, that’s such a delicious, direct-hit description of Church-Lady Wokesterdom you can expect to see more of it around these h’yar parts. I definitely plan on getting lots of use out of it my own self. Thanks, Rich, you just made my day with that riposte. Shine on you crazy diamond, shine on.

Given that denim is one of American Eagle’s staples and that Sweeney is rather attractive, it’s a brilliant pitch replete with a dad-level pun. At least, it’s a brilliant pitch to not insane people. For the insane, though, it’s “Nazi propaganda,” “Nazi fascism,” and “an unbridled cultural shift toward whiteness.” 

Given such responses, including clickbait wackadoos proclaiming that Sweeny is mid, it’s tempting to get angry at the unbridled nutjobs propagating such nonsense. But that is exactly the wrong response, for it only builds bridges under which such trolls may take up residence. More importantly, though, is that the completely unhinged and disproportionate response to the campaign shows the inmates who have been running the asylum are losing the plot in real time. 

For starters, it’s an advertisement for blue jeans and, to be honest, not exactly an original one. Don’t get me wrong, it’s fantastic marketing, people are talking, and American Eagle’s stock trended upward as a result. But using attractive people to sell products isn’t some revolutionary idea. It’s basically the foundation of advertising, albeit one that was briefly lost to the siren song of “inclusive beauty,” which, lol. Businesses may pretend to care about social causes and stakeholders, and there are definitely true believers ensconced in almost every Fortune 500 company out there, but at the end of the day, the purpose of business is to make money, not engineer social change. 

But the brief stranglehold the inmates held over businesses gave them a false sense of security, of permanence. They thought they’d won the war, whereas we can now see that they only won a few victories and that those victories were not exactly strategic ones.

Yet again, we see confirmation of a longstanding contention of mine: Ultimately, the Madhouse Left’s argument isn’t with Republicans, conservatives, or any specific belief, agenda, policy, or proposal; their argument is with REALITY ITSELF. Which makes the argument unwinnable for them, their position in the long run untenable. Call it Mike’s Iron Law #20,376.

At last, REAL progress!

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Okay, as FauxJaux Bribem likes to say, this is a big fuckin’ deal, man.

Say Goodbye to Sesame Street
The Corporation for Public Broadcasting (CBP) has announced that it is shutting down after Senate Republicans zeroed out funding for the boondoggle during their markup session on Thursday.

“Despite the extraordinary efforts of millions of Americans who called, wrote, and petitioned Congress to preserve federal funding for CPB, we now face the difficult reality of closing our operations,” CPB President and CEO Patricia Harrison said in a statement. “CPB remains committed to fulfilling its fiduciary responsibilities and supporting our partners through this transition with transparency and care.”

CPB said that it told employees to expect mass firings—most jobs will be cut on Sept. 30, although a skeleton crew will stay on to see to the details of the funerals and burials for Elmo, Big Bird, and Cookie Monster. (Actually, it’s to deal with music licenses that are set to expire in December.) 

CPB describes itself as “a private, nonprofit corporation authorized by Congress in 1967” that is “the steward of the federal government’s investment in public broadcasting,” on its website. “It helps support the operations of more than 1,500 locally managed and operated public television and radio stations nationwide. CPB is also the largest single source of funding for research, technology, and program development for public radio, television, and related online services.” 

Harrison said in an April Press release, “Public media has been one of the most trusted institutions in American life, providing educational opportunity, emergency alerts, civil discourse, and cultural connection to every corner of the country.” 

Almost none of that is true.

Of course not. These are hardcore, dedicated liberals talking here; that being so, why in the ever-lovin’ blue eyed world would anyone expect that it would be true, prithee tell?

(Via Stephen; sorry, almost forgot)

But…but…but…WHY, man?

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Let me count the ways: because she’s hot as FUCK; she makes shitlibs weep, wail, and rend their garments by being disobedient to, disdainful of, and utterly insouciant about them, their opinions, and their prissy and prudish edicts.

Plus, because I fucking well CAN, damn your eyes.

YOWSA! Suddenly, an unexpected epiphany: with a woman

  • THIS exquisitely lovely
  • THIS perfectly put-together
  • THIS breezily self-assured yet unpretentious
  • THIS cool, calm, and collected
  • THIS impervious to being rattled by foamy-mouthed liberal calumny, obloquy, and vitriolic rebuke
  • THIS comfortable in her own skin
  • THIS good-natured
  • THIS balanced and well-adjusted
  • THIS flawless in virtually every way

who even needs a reason? I’ma give dear Sidney her very own CF category, I do believe. Just ‘cause I feel like it, that’s why, no other reason. I don’t give a tinker’s damn if this is the only post in there, either.

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Slangin’ arrows

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My brother Jeff has a good friend and former co-worker, Donnie Williams, another big-rig driver who lives about an hour’s drive from here in Pelion SC, just outside Columbia. As it happens, his 13-year-old daughter Delilah is…wait for it…WAIT FOR IT…

Umm, a national-champeen archer? Rilly?

Yup, seems so. According to the archery app Donnie recommended to me, called the NASP Portal (that would be the National Archery in Schools Program, in case y’all were wondering), Delilah got off to a somewhat sluggish start in the competitive bow-and-arrow field after having been encouraged to take up the Sport Of Kings by one of her coaches at school. After the merest handful of shaky outings, though, D quickly settled down to rise through the ranks to the very top of the youth-archery heap, and has stayed there ever since. In her first big tournament, she scored only 176 out of a possible 300 points, which sounded respectable enough to my unenlightened ass until Donnie assured me that it was no great shakes. Nowadays, Delilah’s numbers are consistently in the 270s, 280s, even 290s.

I’m told by both the young lady’s dad and my brother, who has met her a time or two his own self, that Delilah, while extremely intelligent and a solid. straight-A student, is also extremely shy—an unfortunate but fairly common combination of personality traits my Madeleine also had to deal with earlier in her childhood. Thankfully, as time went by and she got older she outgrew the shyness but held onto the smarts, as I’m sure Delilah will in her turn.

As for the brand, type, and string weight of the bow she uses in competition, NASP allows only Genesis compound bows strung at 20 pounds in their events, nothing else is acceptable.

From the NASP Portal app’s About page:

Image000000 3.

And here’s a snapshot of Ms D’s recent tournament performance:

Image000000 4.

Jeff informed me earlier today that the Williams clan is presently on their way to—what, either Virginia or West (by God) Virginia one—so’s young Delilah can dominate another tournament.

 I fooled around with the bow and arrow as a wee sprat myself, although I wasn’t anywhere near in Delilah’s league. The deal was my late, much lamented Uncle Gene took up the bow and arrow to go hunting with, going so far as to set up a large, soft target surrounded by stacked-up hay bales in his long, narrow backyard, thereby creating a practice range where he might hone his archery skills. Unca Gene was kind enough to let any of us neighborhood kids who were big and strong enough to string his fancy recurve bow unaided use his range also, a pastime I greatly enjoyed. He insisted on being out there with us on these occasions as a semi-chaperone, the Adult Supervision who’d make sure we behaved responsibly, that we wouldn’t lose our heads, go feral, and start shooting arrows at each other.

Delilah would probably laugh at me for this, but I remember my first day of bow-n-arrowing: I wrecked my left forearm something fierce when I jumped in shooting without any kind of arm guard whatsoever—a rookie blunder which allowed the tough, rough bowstring to rake down the inside of my unprotected left forearm from elbow to wrist, leaving it skint-raw, swollen, badly bruised, even a bit bloody after I’d loosed only a few arrows in the general direction of that huge bullseye.

Note that I said I had fired my pointy, colorfully befeathered sticks “in the general direction of,” not “into” or “through” said target. All in all, even though we all had a lot of fun, that first experience as a bowman was not an entirely happy one for li’l old moi. Next time out, I vowed that I’d be bringing forearm protection of some sort or other along, even if the best I could manage was to wind an old t-shirt around my arm and knot up the sleeves to tie it down.

When Jeff told me about Donny’s kid and her unusual athletic career, I casually remarked that her story would make an excellent topic for a CF post. Right away, Donny got seriously stoked about the idea, fairly well dancing around on his toes like a guy, his back teeth afloat, urgently in need of a good, long whizz nownownowNOW with nary a Men’s Room in sight. Nor a tree; a deserted alley; the unlit doorway of a vacant building; a patch of unmanicured, overgrown shrubbery; or an abandoned car to provide concealment while he takes care of business.

So here we all are, then. Sometime soon, I think a short interview with Delilah to discuss her thoughts, her feelings, her ambitions, her likes and dislikes in regard to her sport of choice might be in order.

Last but not least, along with the other stuff Donnie sent me a pic of his favorite shirt:

Image000000 5.

Heh. ‘Nuff said, my friend. Not that any of those things are necessary, of course; from where I sit, it’s altogether clear that Delilah is perfectly capable of looking out for herself. If anybody warrants worrying about, it definitely ain’t this girl, it’s the hapless subnormal who decides it’d be a grand idea to mess with her. Aforementioned subnormal will wind up flat on his back and immobilized in a hospital bed, scratching his cracked, aching noggin in bewilderment as to how he came to be there in the first place.

Working as intended

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Careful what you wish for, CullyFahnya shitlibs, lest you get it—all you want, plus some.

 

West Coast, Messed Coast™– Holy Environy! Newsom Desperately Tries to Sell Refinery He Helped Close
In California, Gov. Gavin Newsom is desperately trying to find a buyer for an oil refinery that he and his policies were instrumental in shooing from the state. Newsom’s policies have driven multiple refineries out of the state. Valero Oil has given up and plans to close a San Francisco-area refinery in 2026.

“California’s effort to save the refinery from closing also marks a shift from the focus of government policy in recent years to champion green initiatives and restrict fossil fuel usage, that has led to an often tense relationship between the state and oil companies,” Reuters reports.

Valero plans to completely close down in 2026. California had 40 refineries in the 1980s. The recently announced closures will leave as few as seven refineries operational by 2026.

West Coast, Messed Coast™ residents are finding out in real time, if they hadn’t known already, that high gas prices weren’t only the product of greedy oil companies and plundering gas station owners, as Democrats have told them all these years. 

“High gas prices?! We’ll pass a law to investigate these scallywags!” 

California’s gas prices are “42.2% higher than the national average, 40.7% higher than Arizona, 20% higher than Nevada, 46.86% higher than Florida, and a whopping 63.12% higher than Texas.” It’s not a good look when you want to win your party’s nomination to be president of the free world.

It turns out that when your environmental policies force the closure of multiple oil refineries cranking out homegrown gas, you are forced to import more expensive gas. It has the side effect of making you look really dumb, Gavin Newsom. Worse, it makes the other states that follow California’s environmental lead — looking at you, Oregon and Washington — look even dumber.

 

Ummm, s’cuse me and all, but, y’know… “LOOK”?!?

Memezapoppin’!

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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’!“ →

The Daily Donnybrook, and other fine things

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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. 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: “Theodicy.” Links to archived Golden Oldies are findable down at the bottom of each post.

Please do consider subscribing to The Eyrie, gang; it’s free, unless you’re feeling big-hearted enough to pony up for a paid sub. Either way, paying customer or freeloading looky-loo, an Eyrie subscription is a bargain at any price, a move you’ll won’t ever regret making.

All subscribers receive email notification whenever each new post goes live, although CF management promises not to blow up your inbox with a bunch of junk mail. Latest Eyrie offering is getatable (yes, that’s really a word—trust me!) for one and all to read and enjoy totally free of charge, regardless of subscriber 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, everybody!

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FINALLY!

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Mmmkay, as of right now, I believe…I think…I hopehopehopeHOPE that I have the Greatest Hits section unfucked—insofar as it’s ever gonna be, at any rate. Also, y’all might have noticed a new NavBar link to the right, yclept Miscellany. As that page’s intro blurb says, I intend it to be “A page for links to the things that need to be here, but just don’t seem to fit anywhere else.” Only two items therein at the moment, but I’ll find more stuff to populate it as time moves ever on.

Update! One thing you’ll see regarding the brand spanking new, bestest EVAR GH section is that all the old “Wayback Machine” links have been replaced with new Pages hosted rat-cheer at CF. Probably won’t make a huge difference to anybody but me, but still.

Big old can o’ worms

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That’s what I opened for myself when I set out to add my “Digression” piece to the Greatest Hits page, as mentioned here. Turns out, the GH page was thoroughly and completely hosed, God only knows how or why, up to and including about half of the articles linked therein, which now no longer exist at all. Infuriatingly, the missing essays include one of my own personal favorites, “Frodo On Trial,” which was the first post of mine ever to be linked at NRO’s The Corner blog way back when.

Yep, “Frodo…” was a good ‘un alright, but along with several others, it appears to be gone for good; if there’s any kind of backup around out there, I sure haven’t been able to find it. Only thing I know to do at this point is to just delete all the GH pages I currently have, including the “Greatest Hits” parent page, create new ones, and just basically start setting up the whole “Greatest Hits” section again from scratch.

In fact, I spent the whole weekend doing exactly that, and am not done yet, although the end is in sight as of right this minute. Maybe it’ll work, maybe it won’t; if the whole damned site goes off the rails at some point over the next day or two, well, you’ll know why.

Update! HAAAA!! Found the “Frodo On Trial” piece. It was hiding under a different title, namely “ICC and the Dark Lord.” THAT’s certainly a load off my mind! Now, back to work…

A thoughtful, heartfelt, tasteful, thoroughly moving tribute, near-perfectly put together by an unexpected source

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Vince McMahon, we hardly knew ye. Congrats, salutations, and humblest thanks for this beautiful commemoration, to everyone involved with its creation.

Triple H, WWE deliver emotional Hulk Hogan tribute at SmackDown
Hulk Hogan’s tribute to open WWE SmackDown on Friday night was nothing short of a tear-jerker.

The event in Cleveland was opened with loud applause and the crowd chanting “Hogan” in unison to honor the late wrestler who died at 71 years old on Thursday.

Fellow wrestler Triple H led the tribute for Hogan.

And with that, let’s go to the vid.


Dammit, I don’t know who the blue blazes that guy might be that’s standing front and center and delivering the speech, but I know for sure and certain he can’t possibly be HHH. Man, no friggin’ way. Whoever that imposter really is, he’s much, MUCH too old to actually be the HHH I remember.

Best. Spam. EVAR!

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Of the thousands, perhaps even millions, of CF-related spam emails I’ve received, snarled at, and summarily deleted over lo, these many years, this one has to be my personal favorite. C&P’d in its entirety:

FROM: HR & Admin – Coldfury <james@prestouniversal.com>
TO: E-mail (CF)
SUBJECT: Coldfury Employees Performance Appraisals – June’25

Dear Gentlemen,

Please find below the link to the current month’s employee performance appraisals for June 2025.

https://staff.coldfury.com/inter-records/report-2025/

Note: All names highlighted in red indicate employees who are due for termination.

Your prompt attention to this matter is highly appreciated.

Best regards,

HR Manager
Human Resource Department
hr.director@coldfury.com | Headquarter

Wow, turns out I have not only an HR department but also an HQ, even an unspecified number of “employees” who can actually be “terminated” at the discretion of my (nonexistent) HR Manager, whose actual name I can’t seem to recall right now for some reason. Better still, my phantasmagorical “HR Manager” refers to me as a “Gentlemen” in interoffice correspondence. Who knew?

No, of course I didn’t click on the link to view the “employee performance appraisals” report, but I confess I’m mighty tempted to, if only to giggle like a delighted little girl at the no doubt voluminous “names highlighted in red.” That’s bound to be as epic a tale as has ever been told throughout the annals of creative writing. Lord knows I’ve taken a few stabs at composing fiction, only to find that, although I know I’m not completely bereft of writing talent, I don’t have it in me to create good fiction; somehow, I just can’t make it work.

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2

Asses in seats, gals

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The worst thing that could possibly happen to these WNBA broads would be to pay them what they’re actually worth.

Minnesota Lynx All-Stars reflect on wearing ‘Pay us what you owe us’ shirts
MINNEAPOLIS (FOX 9) – The WNBA had its All-Star Game over the weekend in Indianapolis, and players sent a message to the league before a basket was ever scored.

During pregame warm-ups, players, including Minnesota Lynx star Napheesa Collier, wore “Pay us what you owe us” shirts. Last week, more than 40 players met with league officials as the WNBA negotiates a new collective bargaining agreement. Talks have not gone well as an October deadline looms.

Collier accepted the MVP award for the game, with “Pay them!” chants coming from the crowd as WNBA Commissioner Cathy Engelbert handed her the trophy. Collier talked about it after the game. Collier signed a three-year contract with the Lynx back in 2022. She’s making about $214,000 this season, the final year of her current deal.

Not too shabby a salary just to run like a gimp, jump like an overweight elephant seal, dribble like a retard, and shoot like a grrrrl, before an audience so scant any normal schmendrick could tally up the house using their fingers and toes. And that’s on a GOOD night, mind. My personal favorite bit from the article is this sub-hed:

Why you should care

“Why. I. Should…” Say WHAT again, now? See, that is really just…uhhh, errr, mmph. Mmmmph. *snort, snorfle, gack, giggle* BWAAAAA-HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

I’d like to interject a Zen kind of question at this point, if I may:

If there’s nobody watching ‘em play, either in the stands or on the TeeWee, do they keep score? SHOULD they be? If you answered yes to the last question, please give at least three (3) good reasons why you think so.

The gals of the WNBA seem totally unaware of a simple, basic rule governing pro sports, entertainment media, and the arts in toto, namely: If you aren’t putting asses in the seats, it’s not only you as an individual athlete that is doomed to fail; it’s also your team, and eventually, the entire league itself. Doesn’t matter one whit how talented, how charming, how good-looking, how smart, how financially responsible you might (or might NOT) be your own self—try as they might to ignore this fundamental truth, nobody but nobody gets to do so for very long.

Serendipitous spinoff update! Late last night, I ginned up a barely-related addendum to the above post, positing a tenuous connection betwixt suicide and Phillip Sudo’s incredibly awesome Zen Guitar. Really, it amounted to yet another of those annoying, interminable 50-kajillion-word digressions I’ve become so renowned for (rightly so, I must admit). As such, I snipped the OT jabberwock from the above post, plopped it whole, raw, and unexpurgated into a brand new ME draft, and saved the resultant pile to MarsEdit’s handy-dandy “Local drafts” folder, after which I happily yielded the CF podium and went to bed in hopes of getting perhaps an hour or two’s uninterrupted slumber.

I just now remembered the aforementioned digression (mostly over-garrulous logorrhea; entirely too personal to be of much interest to anyone who ain’t me; just meandering with no particular plan or destination in mind, a regrettable tendency I’m increasingly subject to in my dotage) and felt it was really just too damned bad the directionless mess would be an in no wise perfect fit as a CF index-page item.

BUT….

What I can do, probably should do—rather than just wastefully toss some perfectly valid albeit stupefyingly dull ruminations on both these subjects altogether—is dump the whole steaming pile into a fresh new WP Page of its very own, maybe under the “Greatest Hits” header purely as a Navbar space-saving measure.

Yep, I believe I’m gonna get cracking on this minor project straightaway. Notification, as ever, to appear in a later update here once I’ve gotten this rhetorical jalopy cranked up and running smooth as the proverbial baby’s butt—keep watching this space so’s you won’t miss nuttin’. Who knows, it’s barely possible that, contra my earlier discouraging words, you might even find you enjoy reading the dadblame thing.

1

“Hulkamania is DEAD!!!”

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Took a while, but Randy “Macho Man” Savage was proved right in the end.

I saw this pre-match rant back when it first ran in the run-up to Wrestlemania V, and always felt the spittle flooding down his chin was truly an Oscar-worthy touch. Macho Man, of course, departed this vale of tears long ago. Now, the Hulkster has joined Savage in the Choir Invisible. God bless ‘em both. More on Hulk Hogan’s passing.

Before Hogan came on the scene, professional wrestling was a niche form of entertainment. Often low-budget and rough around the edges, the pro wrestling of ages past wasn’t the slick product that it is today. Hogan (born Terry Gene Bollea in Augusta, Ga.) helped usher in the modern era of pro wrestling.

I like the way TMZ explains Hogan’s appeal: “Hulk transformed professional wrestling into a family entertainment sport. Before Hulk, wrestling catered to a fairly narrow audience. Hulk’s theatrics in the ring was [sic] magnetic for children and their parents, and it supercharged the sport.”

Hogan’s candy-colored wardrobe, boundless enthusiasm, and “real American” persona appealed to kids and adults, and he was an easy hero to follow and emulate. My brother had a foot-tall Hulk Hogan action figure that’s at my house today for some reason. He said he would pick it up on his way home from work for his shrine.

Hogan’s villainous turn in 1996 broke plenty of hearts, but it added to the Hogan legend. World Wrestling Entertainment inducted him into its hall of fame in 2005, but after the cretinous gossip site Gawker leaked allegedly racist comments he made, WWE rescinded his induction in 2015. Hogan successfully sued Gawker, and WWE re-inducted him in 2020 as part of NWO, the collection of wrestlers he hung with under his villain persona.

The Hulkster had a successful career in movies and television as well, but his appearance at the 2024 Republican National Convention may have been one of his most memorable moments of his later years. He exulted Donald Trump both in character as Hulk Hogan and out of character as Terry Bollea.

Speaking of, no way am I gonna let the Hulkster’s powerhouse RNC star turn go unmentioned here. Not on this day, of all days.

Fucking beautiful, and dead on the money, every word of it. Fare thee well, Hulkster, and well done.

Memezapoppin’!

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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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CF Glossary

ProPol: Professional Politician

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

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

Mordor On The Potomac: Washington, DC

The Enemy: shitlibs, Progtards, Leftards, Swamp critters, et al ad nauseum

Burn, Loot, Murder: what the misleading acronym BLM really stands for

pAntiFa: an alternative spelling of "fascist scum"

"Mike Hendrix is, without a doubt, the greatest one-legged blogger in the world." ‐Henry Chinaski

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Notable Quotes

"America is at that awkward stage. It's too late to work within the system, but too early to shoot the bastards."
—Claire Wolfe, 101 Things to Do 'Til the Revolution

Claire's Cabal—The Freedom Forums

FREEDOM!!!

"There are men in all ages who mean to govern well, but they mean to govern. They promise to be good masters, but they mean to be masters."
—Daniel Webster

“When I was young I was depressed all the time. But suicide no longer seemed a possibility in my life. At my age there was very little left to kill.”
—Charles Bukowski

“A slave is one who waits for someone to come and free him.”
—Ezra Pound

“The illusion of freedom will continue as long as it’s profitable to continue the illusion. At the point where the illusion becomes too expensive to maintain, they will just take down the scenery, they will pull back the curtains, they will move the tables and chairs out of the way and you will see the brick wall at the back of the theater.”
—Frank Zappa

“The right of a nation to kill a tyrant in case of necessity can no more be doubted than to hang a robber, or kill a flea.”
—John Adams

"A society of sheep must in time beget a government of wolves."
—Bertrand de Jouvenel

"It is terrible to contemplate how few politicians are hanged."
—GK Chesterton

"I predict that the Bush administration will be seen by freedom-wishing Americans a generation or two hence as the hinge on the cell door locking up our freedom. When my children are my age, they will not be free in any recognizably traditional American meaning of the word. I’d tell them to emigrate, but there’s nowhere left to go. I am left with nauseating near-conviction that I am a member of the last generation in the history of the world that is minimally truly free."
—Donald Sensing

"The only way to live free is to live unobserved."
—Etienne de la Boiete

"History does not long entrust the care of freedom to the weak or the timid."
—Dwight D. Eisenhower

"To put it simply, the Left is the stupid and the insane, led by the evil. You can’t persuade the stupid or the insane and you had damn well better fight the evil."
—Skeptic

"There is no better way to stamp your power on people than through the dead hand of bureaucracy. You cannot reason with paperwork."
—David Black, from Turn Left For Gibraltar

"If the laws of God and men, are therefore of no effect, when the magistracy is left at liberty to break them; and if the lusts of those who are too strong for the tribunals of justice, cannot be otherwise restrained than by sedition, tumults and war, those seditions, tumults and wars, are justified by the laws of God and man."
—John Adams

"The limits of tyranny are prescribed by the endurance of those whom they oppress."
—Frederick Douglass

"Give me the media and I will make of any nation a herd of swine."
—Joseph Goebbels

“I hope we once again have reminded people that man is not free unless government is limited. There’s a clear cause and effect here that is as neat and predictable as a law of physics: As government expands, liberty contracts.”
—Ronald Reagan

"Ain't no misunderstanding this war. They want to rule us and aim to do it. We aim not to allow it. All there is to it."
—NC Reed, from Parno's Peril

"I just want a government that fits in the box it originally came in."
—Bill Whittle

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