Category: fancy thinkin’

Barack Crime Wave Boogaloo

This morning, I imagine, after you got up and tossed the rocks back through the window, and beat down the tranny in the mask who tried to mug you on the way to the toilet, you probably wondered how the hell your town got to be such a rotten place to live. This is the most wonderful place in the world, you once thought. It seems like only yesterday (think Iraq War) that roses fairly bloomed in the sidewalk planters, people hugged the mailman as he tried to walk by, and ivy crawled up the trellises with an audible humm. It had the overall effect of a lemon-smelling Lawrence Welk placing a stout hand on your shoulder. But not any more. Those days are gone.

The Obama Crime Wave Comes to Minnesota

The Minneapolis Star Tribune reports that so far in 2016, shootings in Minneapolis are up by an astounding 85% over 2015. Other violent crime is up as well…

Though Assrocket posts a graphic that only shows a surge in gun violence in Minneapolis’ North Side, one part of one city in one state, and even though the article he uses to savage Barack Obama’s America warns everybody this:

Criminologists caution against reading too much into early month crime statistics, and police say that in some respects, not much is different about this current surge in gun violence. Most shootings are clustered around fast-food restaurants and convenience stores, along busy transit corridors and anywhere where open-air drug dealing thrives.

…such sensible cautions are strangely missing from his criminology. Scud-butt breezes past the caveats and declares the ‘Obama Crime Wave’ an American crisis. The blacks found you and robbed you recently, right? What next?

The only plausible explanation is a combination of the Ferguson Effect and the racial hostility promoted by the Obama administration and the Black Lives Matter organization.

Spiraling lawlessness and serial shootings are mysteries best understood, pardon me only understood, by invoking “The only plausible explanation.” Which is:

Barack Obama and his minions have promoted racial division and a relentless attack on police forces as a means to political power. The inevitable result is now being seen all around the country: the Obama crime wave.

You can’t explain the rise in Minneapolis’ North Side gun violence any other way, notwithstanding the same article’s higher-column sub-headings of “Gangs still a problem” and “Multiple factors”. A sensible man simply has to assert a continental-wide explosion in violence due to a president’s “racial hostility”. And Bara-boombaye is never going to sic the National Guard on Black Lives Matters protests, okay? Such is his hostility on brazen display, as when He praises

…the movement as “really effective in bringing attention to problems,” but said young activists should be more willing to work with political leaders to craft solutions instead of criticizing from outside the political process.

And as well when he goes so far as to provide them with this sort of material support:

“Once you’ve highlighted an issue and brought it to people’s attention and shined a spotlight, and elected officials or people who are in a position to start bringing about change are ready to sit down with you, then you can’t just keep on yelling at them,” Mr. Obama said.

I’m sorry but it just couldn’t be made any more obvious, folks. President Obama simply hates policemen. So let’s not blame them for sitting in their cruisers with their arms folded and their eyes filled with tears while the city around them explodes in anti-white violence. Because if there’s one thing we’ve learned over the years, it’s that the people we empower to kill require unconditional love.


The Volokh Gunspiracy

Here really comes the silly. Something this entirely daft coming from Fred Thompson’s biggest fan, of all people, is a little surprising one would think. One would, or he might, but then let’s thank the Lord that one is only a single person. I mean so few people in our world being so plainly dumb, really aren’t we lucky?

After various highly publicized shootings, those of us who are skeptical about gun controls are often asked: So what are we suggesting should be done about the shootings? If we’re not suggesting gun controls…the argument goes, we’re not taking gun tragedies seriously.

Now feast your eyes upon Eugene Volokh. Because he’s going to take this latest mass shooting seriously. And there he goes! Squinching his face! Look!

Every day, about 30 people are killed in the U.S. in gun homicides or gun accidents (not counting gun suicides or self-inflicted accidental shootings). And every day, likely about 30 people are killed in homicides where the killer was under the influence of alcohol, plus alcohol-related drunk driving accidents and alcohol-related accidents where the driver wasn’t drunk but the alcohol was likely a factor…

So what are we going to do about it? When are we going to ban alcohol? When are we going to institute more common-sense alcohol-control measures?

Intoxicating liquids vs. lethal weapons. Could anybody possibly imagine a more insightful comparison? Hey people why can’t a free man have a Whiskey Sour AND a Krupp Howitzer? [*folds arms, raises brow, pushes tongue in cheek. tongue lingers but tries hard to get ahead at work, save money, woo tonsil, land low-interest loan to build modern design argument with split-level stupid.*] Eugene ventures off to wrestle this housefly and comes back much the wiser:

Well, we tried, and the conventional wisdom is that the cure was worse than the disease — which is why we went back to a system where alcohol is pretty freely available, despite the harm it causes.

If we banned all the guns – which is what no one nowhere wants, but let’s stay with Euge’ here because this is deadly serious, for him – then America would find itself in another Roaring Twenties. You’d see the Italians selling bathtub munitions on every street corner, and nobody would be able to sleep for the racket F. Scott and Zelda kept kicking up at that Shooteasy next door. And is that what all you people really want? Readily, cheaply available Mitragliatrices and angry zingers? Early Post World War One Period Post Art Nouveau Art Deco?!

Sanity please, let’s not pretend we could ever ban all the guns it isn’t possible. What’s that, mate? OUR REGARDS TO YOUR AL CAPONE.


A fantastic and timeless cynicism

If one were to take Victor Epsilon Flavius Hanson seriously, one would learn soon enough that we live in an ever-more decrepit world. Victor is urgent about this, bidding us to change our ways before Drake and the Ushers dash America upon history’s rocks. Here he asks and answers – he must – the question that other, sane, people for some mysterious reason haven’t bothered with: Is the West Dead Yet?

The West is paradoxically dominant on the global stage and eroding from within.

For a guy who spends his days fapping over portraits of Roman generals, this is altogether surprising. But let’s not go on about Victor, let’s keep this short. Let me cut through the daunting Fresno State intellectual-ese and give you the highlights. Ahem: Facebook, sociology, Google, schlock, pop culture, Russia, China, tattooing, piercing, Latino students, immigrants, the Middle East, hoi polloi, Mohammed Morsi, India, Neo-Communism, Thucydides and Aristophanes, Tacitus, Suetonius, Miley Cyrus and so long farewell, goodbye.

You can tell what he’s getting at. Nobody’s ever been better than Victor at spitting into the wind.

If, God forbid, Putin moves into the Baltic states, if Iran launches a nuke into Israel, if North Korea shoots chemical shells into Seoul, if China absorbs Taiwan, if, in another 9/11, a dozen 757s take down the Sears Tower, if the interest rate on a soon-to-be-$20-trillion national debt hits 7 percent, if Social Security checks start to bounce, or if Wall Street trumps its 2008 implosion…

vale Victorum, the Elder. He’s too sophisticated to hang around with the lowly likes of us. But there he is snaking his hands down his pants again – not in public dude! Remember? I wonder how much of that apocalyptic frisson would linger if I pointed out that 9/11, and the implosion of our vaunted economy, and the high stacking of bloated corpses in the desert sun – many of the bodies being American, like Vic – recently happened thanks to the people who think exactly like him. Thanks to the people who read Victor, and take hints from him.

It was Victor himself who applauded the New Empire policies that produced those catastrophes. Democrats voted-in in the aftermath had to don hazmat gloves in order to turn him over, wipe his ass, hand him a lollipop and send him skipping on his way. Not bothering to say ‘thanks’, or learn proper squatting habits, Hanson has spent all his recaptured time calling for more war across the Middle East, lest America become fading Rome. Here he has the balls to dread-fantasize a new round of the exact same tragedies he just cheered on, as if he’s providing us an historic allegory and not a blow-by-blow account of his epic stupidity.

And why does he do this? I don’t know, the deeper stirrings of dumb are mysterious. But his words are plain and simple: Because of the persistence of the black president. And because Jay Z. Clearly there’s a global problem here:

…then Miley Cyrus will go the way of Britney Spears, Barack Obama the way of Jimmy Carter, and Black Lives Matter the way of It’s a Black Thing, You Wouldn’t Understand. Then the televised presences of Caitlin Jenner and the Kardashians would vanish as the decadent indulgences of a society that could no longer afford them.

You thousands of Black Lives Matter protestors, you’re no better than Britney Spears. You’re just like that Kardashian who cut his dick off, ha ha. How wondrous and thoughtful Victor is. Of course back when Reagan the Brainless was running everything, and Vic the Bric walked around appointed with tears of joy, this was a fine and proud country – of gimlet eyes and iron will. He has never been more sure of that! As Great Societies are Great In All Ways, its manifold virtues were on effortless display, in the popular music of Sammy Hagar and the movies of Sylvester Stallone:

Supermarket Killer: *shouting* I don’t wanna talk to you! Now you bring in the television cameras in here now! C’mon, bring ’em in!

Marion Cobretti: Can’t do that.

Killer: Why?

Cobra: I don’t deal with psychos. I put them away.

Killer: I ain’t no psycho, man! I’m a HERO! You’re looking at a fuckin’ hunter! I’m a hero of the New World!

Cobra: You’re a disease – and I’m the cure. *throws knife in gut*

Eat it, liberal. And here:

sammy hagar eats

Contrast that with what America looks like now. I mean now – not a few months ago. No, don’t bother with Bush’s War in Iraq, or the sure-bet rise of ISIS, or his epic tax cuts/deficits, or his leaving the city of New Orleans in cadaver-strewn ruins. Those were just whoops, or whatever, or bits of history. Instead picture it as we have it today: With transgender people! And fatass YouTube celebrities! With a president who knows Chance the Rapper! And Negroes who badmouth the cops! On TV! Fuck me!

Can you believe it? Victimian Pi Thagorus can’t. But then what am I saying? – of course he can. None other than he himself long ago un-varnished this essential truth about us, thee great white man’s civilization…

Bounty to boredom to decadence to panic to reawakening to ascendance has always been the cyclical way of the West. Its curse has been that the cycles of nihilism are as long as they are unnecessary.

Yeah man whistle. Frigging deep, I tells ya. If this sepia toned schtick appeals to you – and who doesn’t want to look, like, smart? – then set your sights on the dawning of the next Western cycle, as the world is once again turned by the Fates Of Victor. It’s only a matter of time before they are reawakened and Rihanna cast upon the dung-heap of history. Ascendance, bitch. And please don’t think this is so laughable as to be nihilism defined.


Wishing for mortal tragedy is not a Hot Take

Kristen McQueary writes for the Tribune.

Envy isn’t a rational response to the upcoming 10-year anniversary of Hurricane Katrina.

But…I find myself wishing for a storm in Chicago — an unpredictable, haughty, devastating swirl of fury. A dramatic levee break. Geysers bursting through manhole covers. A sleeping city, forced onto the rooftops.

That’s what it took to hit the reset button in New Orleans.

Is that what happens after you and your family drown? Someone hits the reset button? Somehow Kristen skipped right over the part where tens of thousands flee the devastation, emergency workers pour in to minister to the sick and dying, and to retrieve all the corpses, and then at some point everybody sits down at a table and tries to figure out whether New Orleans should become the World’s Biggest Shrimp Farm.

Residents overthrew a corrupt government. A new mayor slashed the city budget, forced unpaid furloughs, cut positions, detonated labor contracts. New Orleans’ City Hall got leaner and more efficient. Dilapidated buildings were torn down. Public housing got rebuilt. Governments were consolidated…

Hurricane Katrina gave a great American city a rebirth.

I understand how a bad writer can call the aftermath of a near-death experience a “rebirth.” But if your politics are such that you wish a mass-murdering catastrophe upon a city in order to slash budgets, force unpaid furloughs and lay off thousands of people – workers who may or may not be dead – you’re worse than just bad.

Suppose that I didn’t like the attitude of a certain writer. What if I then wrote about an incident where he or she went through a near-death experience, like being shot or raped? What if I claimed they had undergone a “rebirth” and become better people?

Would it be alright for me to wish it would happen to Kristen McQueary? Would that be a good editorial? No. It would not.

Makes me wish you’d go away.


Zees Frenchman he is, how you say, fail

On the heels of Camille Paglia’s assessment that the Cosby-style rape of Monica Lewinsky would have been a more sophisticated affair, literally, had Bill Clinton been a proper fan of le style français I’m wondering what other contributions to sex and politics the French can be thanked for. Regular essayist at ‘The Week’ Pascal-Emmanuel Gobry comes to mind [fap fap].

Taking your own bemused look over the sweep of right-entrenched intelligentsia you might scratch out a list composed of the know-nothings (Bill Kristol, George Will), the warmongers (John Bolton, any name off the Bush docket), the racists (Tom Tancredo, Pat Buchanan), the social regressives (David Brooks, Michelle Malkin), the obsessives (Mollie Hemingway, John Fund), and the celebré hyenas (Chuck Norris and Ted Nugent). [obsv: The all-you-can-eat buffet at National Review features Goldberg, Hanson, Williamson, Charen, Lopez and, well, Bill Buckley.] But among all of them let’s not forget the happy warriors. They’re the Ronald Reagan types who have been utterly savaged by cruel neurological disorders and couldn’t be more thankful for it.

How the GOP became the party of ideas again

The most underappreciated story in U.S. politics is that the Republican Party is becoming the party of ideas again.

Political evolutions usually happen in cycles. When one party is dominant, it grows overconfident and lazy; when it loses an election or two, it realizes the need for fresh thinking and embraces it…

…and Senate Republicans just voted on the 55th repeal of Obamacare. PEG, as he’s known to his hospice pals, isn’t the least shy about airing his mystifying and non-sentient sentiments. And never you mind that a dessicated shell of his grey matter swings like a tatty banner in the breeze, Pee-Em is a much-celebrated Gallic Philosophe and all his bonne opinions des politiques zey are quite, how we say, boolshit.

First of all, it’s just impossible for Perry to have stayed governor of Texas for so long if he really is the person we saw on those debate stages. And secondly, his performance thus far in interviews has been excellent. He says he has spent the intervening years preparing for a presidential run, and it shows…

Bugs Bunny would have a field day with this guy.


Where I am moved to call someone buttface

A particularly beneficent blogger at American Thinker offers us all a choice. How nice of him, really. I do like choices.

Would you allow yourself to be groped to fight global warming?
By Pedro Gonzales

It’s an easy choice–let yourself be repeatedly sexually groped by a pervert, or accept the consequences of global warming. Which would you choose?

…those two options weren’t really on my radar tonight, Saturday evening. I was thinking more like ‘ale’ or ‘pilsner’, which are frankly both to my tastes. Anyway, how did we get here? And why is it I either take a thumb up the ass, or fry like Bill Buckley’s balls in Lucifer’s cupped embrace?

More than one in five Metro passengers were subjected to unwanted sexual advances or behavior while riding Metro trains and buses in Los Angeles County during the first half of 2014, according to a new survey.

Tee-hee, caution. Laaaaffffs ahead!

I so admire the liberals who do their duty every day, squeezing into those tightly filled buses like sardines in a can, letting themselves be leered at and squeezed and touched, all so the rest of us can live in a better environment.

This is what makes for comedy over there. The rancid sneer. Derision ha ha, whoopee. But there’s also…fucking brilliance, see?

Listen closely: if you have too many cars, and too few highways… create more highways! Check out the map below. The city should use eminent domain to take the land, and turn it over to private developers who will pay to build it in return for charging tolls on the new roads.

And this genius slapdashes 10 freeways across the map of L.A., all of them ending in downtown (which is the secret place all Angelenos want to go). This would only wipe out a few thousand homes, and the city’s budget for the next millennium or so, as well as pave over Hancock Park, Encino, and Griffith Park. And after the 50 or so years of lawsuits and wholesale demolition it would take, not to mention the rioting and homelessness, the city would hand all that real estate over to private contractors. Just so we could pay them tolls, to drive over our former homes. This is clearly a cracking idea, Grommit. And not at all the prospective work of a sociopath…

But since my suggestions will be ignored and nothing will be done, I salute liberals who continue to let themselves be fondled as part of their civic duty

…and by that I mean: fuck you, buttface.


I could watch this Chopra v. Dawkins thing all night

Deepak Chopra cannot leave evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins alone. Probably because the scientist so easily dispenses with the boson-blather of Owwmmm The Deepak, a spiritual force so formidable it can only live entirely up its own ass.

“[Dawkins] antagonizes people. By the way, I didn’t invent the word ‘militant atheism,’” Chopra replied. “He uses that expression to describe himself, and says if you’re not a militant atheist, you’re stupid.”

Dawkins never once said that. But it’s possible that he thought it, and Deepak Owwmmm perceived it via quantum Blue Tooth. Who are we to wonder, but in awe?

As Dawkins frequently derides Chopra’s act as mystical quackery, the bodhisattva has responded by calling the Oxford professor a cheapshotter, an egotist, a fundamentalist, a bigot, an adolescent, a not-credible scientist, a bad scientist, a poor scientist, and a crap scientist. Which is an odd thing, to say the least, to hear from a self-help author about a peer-reviewed biologist. But let’s give Deepak some leeway here, shall we? Let us contemplate his latest dissection of All Reality:

“[Dawkins’] version of reality is what we call ‘empirical reality’ — if you can see it it’s real, if you can’t see it it’s not real. But we know you can’t see your thoughts, feelings, emotions, desires, creativity, choice and they’re real. Your inner world is real.”

“In the book,” Chopra said, “I talk about the ‘visible domain,’ then the ‘subtle domain’ — which is the rich, inner world that you experience — and then something that transcends even that, a ‘non-local domain’ which is the source.”

“So, [Dawkins] version of reality is called ‘naive realism.’ He has no idea of what reality is.”

So if you’re the type to deny – or merely be confounded by – the visible domain, the subtle domain, and the transcendent source now defined as the non-local domain, then you’re but a naive realist. Oh dear heavens. You have “no idea of what reality is.” I’m afraid this puts Dawkins squarely in the dunce’s corner.

By the way you might want to buy these:

I want to know why it is that he so brazenly makes money off of inner peace and science with cheesy products, like $300 DreamWeaver glasses that emit light and sounds to induce sleep states.

“I put everything I earn into good use,” he says. “How can I apologize for that? Does Tom Clancy apologize for his books?”…

“If anyone should complain, it should be the people who come to the Center, and they don’t,” he says. And those DreamWeavers are good science, Chopra adds.


How the Great Society surely killed Michael Brown

The police had shot and killed a black man again but, this time, the neighborhood wasn’t taking it. They’d long ago gotten fed up with a white police department that treated them like second-class citizens – pulling them over, harassing them and arresting them much more quickly than they did whites. Now a policeman had pulled aside a young man on a Saturday afternoon and then ended his life. The cop had gunned down an unarmed teenager in the middle of the street, as if the kid were public enemy number one. Shot him six times for the crime of jaywalking.

Every night now Ferguson, Missouri, explodes in protests, mayhem and looting. No one pretends to be surprised by the violence because they’ve seen it before; they’re only surprised to see it now, in 2014. Accordingly there have been hours and hours of national news coverage and solemn TV punditry, and an endless number of op/eds and blog posts arguing how and why this is happening in what many hoped was a post-racial America.

Tragic as this is, though, we can all be thankful for one thing. Conservatives have figured out what went wrong.

Okay, it’s a media circus but an eighteen-year old kid died here, even if he was a bit of stoned thug who liked to beat up clerks in convenience stores just to make off with a box of cigars. He didn’t deserve to die.

Of course, Michael Brown was just another street thug, but Roger Simon doesn’t believe he deserved to die. It’s a start.

Everyone knows we’ve seen it before and everyone knows we’ll see it again. In fact, many parties don’t want it to go away. The beat must go on. It has to go on or their very personalities will disintegrate. And I will tell you why — what caused it.

Give him credit for admitting that America has tolerated the deaths of young black men for too long. It’s being tolerated even today. Unfortunately, Roger’s advice will have little to do with that. He’s not interested in answering the central question arising from Brown’s death: How could it have happened? He won’t address the secondary question either, which follows the first: What’s wrong with the Ferguson police department?

Roger’s concerns are more traditional. He’d like to take on the issue that people like him have been obsessed with since slaves first arrived here in the 1600s. To wit: What’s wrong with black people? Over the centuries conservatives have always had a theory to explain that mystery. Here is today’s theory, courtesy Roger:

The Great Society. There, I’ve said it.


Ferguson is the Great Society writ large because the Great Society convinced, and then reassured, black people that they were victims, taught them that being a victim and playing a victim was the way to go always and forever…

You thought this Ferguson controversy was about police casually killing an unarmed teenager. Roger knows better. This is really about how BLACK PEOPLE ALWAYS END UP LOOTING IN THE STREETS. Hot tip: the second thing is wrong.

And then it repeated the point ad infinitum from its debut in 1964 until now — a conveniently easy to compute fifty years — as it all became a self-fulfilling prophecy.

For decades the government worked to pull Americans (of all colors) out of poverty but that massive wide-ranging effort ended – just now, incidentally, a week ago Saturday night – as predictably as ever, in a self-fulfilling prophecy. Some cop shot a teenager and black people started yelling like they were victims. If it weren’t so pathetic it would be annoying.

Those misbegotten kids running around Ferguson high on reefer and wasting their lives screaming at cops are the product of all this. Stop it already.

Enough with the whining. And look how these Ferguson kids waste their lives. Running around town, getting high on drugs, yelling at cops and being completely…misbegotten. Don’t pretend they weren’t going to get shot, at some point. Don’t tell Roger that “the product of all this” is anything but deadly denial. And when some three year-old catches a bullet I’m sure we’ll hear from him how ‘misbegotten’ city toddlers have become.

How is it we can no longer agree that the death of Brown is the real problem? We can’t go on without the tragedy being addressed. But half of us, like Roger, want to pretend that when a violent act is followed by a violent argument somehow the act no longer matters. They seem to be saying that if Ferguson could only behave itself then the town might have a point. But how many Michael Browns have been killed without sparking even the slightest controversy?


It’s the end of Rosin’s writing about men we hope

Back in 2012 Hanna Rosin wrote:

The world today brings news that Jan Berenstain, co-author with her husband Stan of the 45 years and running Berenstain Bears series for children, has passed on to a better world. As any right-thinking mother will agree, good riddance.

As Slate-style introductions go it was pretty typical. Their writers rarely miss an opportunity to appear gimlet-eyed and flip. As if anything like academic whimsy were a product of thoughts more than self-obsessions. For some, though, it’s a potent mix that can’t always be resisted. Time magazine today featured Rosin with a new essay.

Men Are Obsolete
Five reasons we are definitely witnessing the end of men
By Hanna Rosin | Jan. 02, 2014 | 447 Comments

We’re less witnessing the death of men than the birth of Time’s own Slate-pitch. As in ‘It’s The End of Men?’ That the originalists are roundly mocked for such 25-Watt contrarianism is nothing for Time to worry about because traffic is traffic, hooray. The first clue to that comes as the editors have slotted the piece for ‘Feminism,’ as opposed to ‘Hootbait,’ or ‘Drollery.’

The second clue would be Rosin’s fingertip grasp of men.

How do I know men are finished? I’ll read you a quote that says it all: “Yes. There have been times when I’ve been in a drunken stupor.”

Is this God perhaps admitting what went wrong on the Sixth Day? That would at least provide some evidence for why we males are all coming to an end. If not Him, who?

Toronto’s mayor, a shining example of modern manhood is what I would call the canary in the coal mine, only he’s not quite as delicate as the canary.

It’s the boozy crack-fueled heart attack of Toronto. Whatever he just babbled, that “says it all.” And the sentiment says it about all men: We are nearing the end. We’ll all soon be abandoned by society, and our loved ones, lying motionless and unconscious in a prison cell. Is it the ‘we all smoke cocaine’ or the ‘we’re all dangerously psychotic’ bit that’s your best evidence for fate? It couldn’t possibly be ‘we are obnoxious and full of ourselves’ as that’s been our habit forever, and how very boring. But, listen:

Are men literally obsolete? Of course not, and if we had to prove that we could never win. For one thing, we haven’t figured out a way to harvest sperm without them being, you know, alive.

Now Rosin’s argument…begins? On the opposite side of Rosin’s previous argument? Tough place to start. She doesn’t mean ‘The End’ of men because that would be literal – was that what you were thinking? Was it the part below the title – ‘Five reasons we are definitely witnessing the end of men‘ – that duped you? Don’t be stupid, women need healthy sperm and scientists haven’t figured out how to extract that from our dead bodies. So we should be kept alive for the future production of useless males. At least, until the relevant science improves. Oh I agree.

But in order to win this debate we have to prove that men, quote unquote, as we’ve historically come to define them — entitled to power, destined for leadership, arrogant, confused by anything that isn’t them.

Hanna finally has a point, sort of. She has to prove that men – entitled, arrogant, confused by anything that isn’t them. That’s right it’s her burden to demonstrate, as we’ve come to define them, The End. Is a sentence too much to ask for? It would keep me from getting even more confused. Unless perhaps Rosin is making a broader point about male impotence by getting to the point so very quickly. Are you one-upping or only mocking us, hmm?

…that isn’t them. As in: “I don’t understand. Is it a guy dressed up like a girl? Or a girl dressed up like a guy?” They are obsolete.

Well there it all is, finally. Hanna’s point could not be made any clearer. A male is no longer something he once was. He was useful once, now he’s clearly not. You take a look at someone like Boy George, and it really hits you: Men are obsolete. Fling yourselves, gender dodos, off whatever transvestite you find handy.

If a writer wants to be conceited and glib, she’d better be smarter than some outré point to be made. That’s not Hanna Rosin. And having seen the sorry total of her essay, I ought probably to stop here. But then you should see some of how she plays the rest out. Just in case I’m wrong, and we’re really done for:

ONE: It’s the end of men because men are failing in the workplace.

Over the last few decades men’s incomes have been slowly declining and women’s have been rising. Last year one in five men were not working, something economists call the biggest social crisis we will face . . In 2009 they [women] became the majority of the American workforce for the first time ever. Now in every part of America young single women under 30 have a higher median income than young men, which is really important because that’s the phase of life when people imagine what their future will look like. As one sorority girl put it to me — remember, I said sorority, not someone from the women’s study center — “Men are the new ball and chain.”

This might be a more devastating observation if women hadn’t been shut out of the workplace for so long. There are yet plenty of gains to be made on their behalf, so whatever balance is still to be had can hardly be considered tragic. Throw in a recession economy that thrives on drudgery and I’m not at all convinced that men, for whatever reasons, can no longer compete.

TWO: It’s the end of men because the traditional household, propped up by the male breadwinner, is vanishing.

For the first time in history women all over the world are marrying down, meaning marrying men with worse prospects than they have. We have a new global type, for example, called the alpha wife, a woman who makes more money than her husband or boyfriend. Not that long ago she was exceedingly rare. Now she’s part of about 40 percent of couples in the US. And that does not count the growing number of single moms who head their own families.

Hanna gives her self away. If a woman makes more than her male partner does she’s ‘marrying down.’ Men have been marrying down for centuries but you don’t see us complaining. She mistakes positive developments across society for male impotence, soon to become fated-death itself.

She’s what you might call old-fashioned. A fuddy-duddy. Being startled by the way women are now getting educations and careers and everything, Hanna’s just given up trying to figure this ole’ world out. Maybe she’s angry with men because we haven’t yet cleared up her confusion. Maybe it’s in the spirit of retaliation that she claims we’re worth little more to society than dribbles of ejaculate. How very petty. Read her embarrassment here.


Playing wingnuts like violins

I don’t worry about this president any more. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

Leave the morality of the Syrian attack aside and just look at the playing of politics. The decision to ask Congress to make a call on the international strike is a clever one. It exposes them for the unprincipled opposition they’ve become. The democratic gesture is a move of real brilliance.

Everyone knows the GOP are a tent full of daddy monsters given to racism, violence and pandering to the Great Unwashed Id. So the call to Muslim bashing will be nearly impossible to resist. But having it offered to them by this bastard is simply too much. It’s like pictures of Jane Fonda’s Barbarella prancing around in front of their balls. It’s like a fragrant eclair being dangled right before their noses, but it’s frosted in the image of Barney Frank. Clad in a muumuu. Not that they aren’t doing some publicly courageous wrestling over it, but oh my. This is very entertaining.

The Great Unifier, Healer of Nations and a Man of Peace
John Ransom | Aug 31, 2013

The great unifier, and Healer of Nations, has done it again.

Like the man He most wishes to emulate, Jesus H. Christ, Barack H. Obama is a man of peace.

Yet, in His wake He brings war.

He divides this house against itself: brother against brother, father against son and daughter against mother.

And now as His Team America, World Police gets ready to swing into action again . . The all-knowing “Eye in the Sky” penetrates everything except for our thoughts . .

Fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.

Given the Spartan sacrifices bloodying our town square it’s about time that John complained. Even though the dreaded Ares Of Community Healthcare will not be pleased. I assume the six-digit body count of the previous administration drove him to raving madness, but I’m guessing instead he stooped to raving reviews. Why, it seems like only yestermonth that John advocated a bold idea in response to the way They behaved Over There.

Congrats President Nobel: Obama Allies Behead Catholic Priest In Syria
John Ransom | Jul 01, 2013

Obama’s war on the Christian religion, particularly the Catholic variety, has claimed another casualty in the Middle East. The Vatican confirmed that “Syrian priest François Murad was killed in Gassanieh, in northern Syria, in the convent of the Custody of the Holy Land where he had taken refuge . .

It’s scene that has become too familiar across the globe . . Thanks President Nobel for helping him out . .

And they gave him a Peace Prize. For what, pacifism?

Actually, this is a great opportunity to get Syria to behave better.

Make no mistake either: This war won’t be a pushover like Libya was.

So let’s get serious about killing. We know it won’t be easy to go to war, and it certainly won’t be easy to not-go to war, and you should consider all this knowing full well that Christ, His Blackness, will have beaten us to Damascus. Maybe it’s best to throw our hands up and say that nothing will be easy as long as John is hanging around.

Come to think of it, substituting ‘a Republican’ for ‘John’ could make the motto for the entire conservative establishment. For at least as long as the ebony usurper continues his twice-elected holocaust, their mission statement should be: Ooh My Head. Any old thing that he wants to do they’ll surely be opposed to because Dammit Woman Let Me Think.

Bomb Syria? President Obama Must Go To Congress For A Declaration Of War
Doug Bandow |

With the Arab League opposing war, the British parliament voting against military intervention, and France backing away without United Nations approval, President Barack Obama has been reduced to threatening unilateral military action against Syria. Not too much, just enough so the administration won’t be “mocked,” said one unnamed official. But also enough to violate the Constitution’s requirement for a congressional declaration of war.

Reagan invaded Grenada without a declaration. Bush Senior invaded Panama. The Forbes family couldn’t have been more pleased with all that. But now that Kenya Guy wants to punish Syria for its war crimes the billionaires have trotted out the Cato Institute’s only serial anti-interventionist – probably the entire right-wing’s sole second guesser – Doug Bandow to call attention to the constitutional conflagration. Doug is famous for taking bribes from Jack Abramoff and if that isn’t a hallmark of sober intelligence, I don’t what is. It’s certainly a good reason to listen to him.

Fiasco in Libya: Fools at War
Doug Bandow | Huffington Post

President Barack Obama’s poll ratings for national security are falling. As they should. The war in Libya increasingly looks like America’s next geopolitical train wreck.

Hope for a quick rebel victory is now a distant dream. Western officials are talking about a military stalemate with no political solution in sight.

And Doug’s always correct, which is yet another reason why The Forbes are such decent people. In fact, I’m having a helluva difficult time trying to count all the decent people that have recently moved into the GOP’s neighborhood.

Obama, the most imperial president
September 01, 2013 | Steve Chapman

So let me get this straight: In Britain, parliament actually has a say in war? But they’re the ones with a monarchy?

. . asking Obama to stop expanding his authority is like asking a shark to cease swimming. If the Constitution and the law aren’t enough to bind him, there’s no reason to think political expedience will.

And then the pachinko ball rolls right in the hole and the impossible happens. Obamhitler asks Congress – what?! – to weigh in on the matter. And I’ll have you know this is Damned Irresponsible.

Rep. Peter T. King accused President Barack Obama of “undermining the authority of future presidents” to engage in military action in a scathing statement issued following Obama’s Rose Garden speech Saturday.

Obama said he would seek an authorization for the use of military force against the Syrian regime in response to the widely-reported use of chemical weapons, but King, a New York Republican and former chairman of the House Homeland Security Committee, blasted that move.

“President Obama is abdicating his responsibility as commander-in-chief and undermining the authority of future presidents. The President does not need Congress to authorize a strike on Syria.”

It too is so very Spineless.

Immediately following his statement from the Rose Garden on Saturday, which President Barack Obama said he would delay a strike on Syria until seeking authorization from Congress, Washington Post columnist Charles Krauthammer took to Fox News to slam the president . .

“[T]he most astonishing thing is the lack of any urgency,” Krauthammer said. “As you say, Congress will be back in a week. He says, ‘I can strike in a day or a week or a month,’ as if he is a judge handing down a sentence and the execution can be any time in the future. There is a war going on. Do you think everybody is going to hold their breath . . ?

Hullo? People are dying!

“But the idea that you make the case, you leak the details, you tell the world that this has to be done and then you say, ‘Well, I will take my time. I’ll go to Congress and we’ll see,’” Krauthammer said. “This should be done in three days.”

A week ago. This president, is there anybody worse? If there’s one thing the wingers know about this guy, it’s that he doesn’t know anything at all. The fiddle caucus has spoken.


Please tell me why it’s a scandal

There was Benghazi. Also something happened to/with a reporter, and then the Tea Party groused about their IRS paperwork. Now we find out a Hawaiian guy has run off to Hong Kong after telling Americans something they already knew. In a London daily. Okay.

All these are scandals apparently. But aren’t scandals supposed to have something to them? Aren’t they supposed to make me angry? Isn’t there supposed to be a reason for that? I’m not seeing many reasons.

Help me out, guys. What’s the nub of the controversy here? These outrages surely boil down to something. A point? An essence? The heart of a matter? Charles Krauthammer unravels the mystery:

“Horrible customer service.” That’s what the newly fired IRS commissioner averred was the agency’s only sin in singling out conservative political groups for discriminatory treatment.

. . But when the maitre d’ screens patrons for their politics and only conservatives find flies paddle-wheeling through their consomme, the problem is not poor service. It is harassment and invidious discrimination.

Chuck can’t even scare up a compelling metaphor. If a restaurant in Jim Crow-era Alabama were dropping flies in the locals’ soup I’m not sure the DOJ’s Civil Rights lawyers would bother. ‘Asshole’ pretty rarely overlaps with ‘invidious,’ except when you’re hired to play professional victim a la Krauthammer.

Brit Hume listens to DNI Clapper’s weaselspeak, and he bristles:

This administration is in the habit of saying things we already know are not true. It’s a very peculiar way to proceed in dealing with a scandal like this.

There we go! A SCANDAL. Like this:

Look, I happen to think that the NSA program is valid and legitimate. And I don’t think anything that this leaker has said, who is being called a whistle-blower, which I doubt — but I don’t think anything he has said points us in the direction of any specific abuses of any kind. . . But I do not understand why the people in this administration can’t seem to shake hands with the truth.

It’s all perfectly fine, there’s nothing wrong. Until Brit watches the video — then it’s outrageous the way Clapper’s lying about the outrage. *Poof* suddenly there are two scandals. Schroedinger’s cat anybody? First there is a scandal, then there is no scandal, then there is.

Peggy Noonan takes a crack at it.

This Is No Ordinary Scandal

We are in the midst of the worst Washington scandal since Watergate . .

No one’s been buying the earlybird ‘Watergate’ special. Not even Peggy herself. So she did the thing all over again. As for ‘No Ordinary Scandal,’ let me clarify . .

Why This Scandal Is Different

Sometimes when you’re writing part of a column you keep getting close to the meaning of what you want to say but you don’t quite get there, the full formulation of the idea eludes you. Then two days later, relaxing in conversation with friends, the thought comes to you whole, and you think: That’s what I meant to say. That’s what I was trying to get.

. . my friend got to the essence. He wrote, “The left likes to say, ‘Watergate was worse!’ Watergate was bad—don’t get me wrong. But it was elites using the machinery of government to spy on elites. . . . It’s something quite different when elites use the machinery of government against ordinary people. It’s a whole different ball game.”

It is.

That’s exactly what I meant.

The victimization of little people. That’s the scandal. Peggy thinks about them about the same time she cocks her head and gazes into the camera lens. Now that it’s clear a few dozen of the sainted averages were barely delayed in their attempts to acquire tax exemptions, Peggy couldn’t be more steadfast. If Bob Crane had suffered this way, a Stalag 13 sitcom wouldn’t have been nearly as funny.

Rush Limbaugh. You can count on Fatso to get right to the point:

The Question is Not Whether the Obama Regime Will Survive, But Will America as Founded Survive the Obama Regime?

. . Do I want somebody in charge of this kind of surveillance who doesn’t like this country as it’s founded? Do I want somebody collecting this kind of data on everybody who is in the middle of trying to transform this country into something the founders never intended it to be? On the other side of this is you would hope that our country and our intelligence agencies are able to determine planned attacks against this country and citizens against this country and uncover those in enough time to thwart them. In that sense, you want this kind of ability. And, by the way, the ability exists. This genie’s not gonna go back in the bottle.

The domestic snooping is necessary and it’s permanent. That narrows the problem a bit.

So in my mind, it does matter who’s in charge of it. It does matter. The political identity of the people who administer something like this matters incredibly. . . The government’s not just this thing sitting there that people run. There are certain kinds of people running it.

It’s a scandal that the President is a Democrat. Fair enough.


It’s afraid. It’s afraid!


Empaths have the ability to scan another’s psyche for thoughts and feelings or for past, present, and future life occurrences. Many empaths are unaware of how this actually works, and have long accepted that they were sensitive to others.

Ann Althouse approaching. Must be prepared.

An empath can sense the truth behind the cover and will act compassionately to help that person express him/herself, thus making them feel at ease and not so desperately alone.


The word “umbrella” appears exactly once in Obama’s “Dreams From My Father.”
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I’m searching the text, because I’ve been thinking, this morning, about the fascination with Obama’s interaction with the Marine and the umbrella, and that set me looking into umbrellas as a famously Freudian symbol . .

See the ‘interaction’ between The Traitor, The Marine and The Folly Brolly:

Patriot reaction:

Marine: (To himself) “Don’t touch my uniform, you New Guinea c*cks*cker.”

You get why Ann wanted to mind-meld with “Obama’s interaction with the Marine and the umbrella.” Why, if you crane your cerebellum’s neck you can juuust catch a Freudian glance at IT’S AN UMBRELLA YOU HOUSECAT. No gosh no. It’s not once Althouse and her emoticlysms engage. Can’t you see, Timmy? The rain is irony, the President a castaway, and the umbrella is a hollow stump tucked inside the basement wardrobe where a shimmering portal to an unseen world of well I was just thinking about it . .

. . Obama, in Africa, falls to the ground between the graves of his father and his grandfather and cries.

“. . A light rain began to fall, the drops tapping on the leaves above. I was about to light a cigarette when I felt a hand on my arm. I turned to find Bernard squatting beside me, trying to fit the two of us under a bent-up old umbrella.

‘They wanted me to see if you were okay,’ he said.”

. . beedle-oo beedle-oo beedle-oo . .

Flash forward, and he’s President. He is in the Rose Garden. It starts to rain. No man suddenly appears with an umbrella. He is getting wet and he is President — with plenty of airplanes and rifles and all of the world’s greatest military at hand — but he is still getting wet.

Blink. Blunk.

He has to order the Marine to shelter him. It isn’t Bernard squatting with a bent-up old umbrella. It’s a Marine in full-dress uniform, with a fine unbent umbrella, which is nevertheless not correct under the official — male, rigid — Marine Corps regulations. Where are the words of encouragement, the embraces, the strong, true love?

. . ?

Now, here is the whole world gathered around him. Was there ever anything more unlike the time when he was alone between 2 graves? And yet, back then, the moment a light rain began to fall, his brother was there, sent by others who loved to see if he was okay.

Blonk. Blink.

And here he is, the center of the whole world’s attention, and he had to call for the umbrella. He is not okay.

He is not okay. Miraculous. We should have expected this after a United Federation of Planets mission crashed on Betazed.