Jobs for Jihadis

18 02 2015

Washington, D.C.

Marie Harf isn’t the first of her kind.

Have you ever heard the phrase “TVA on the Mekong?”


Don’t Forget, You’re Black

3 01 2015


Two stories that I think should be understood simultaneously.  This and this.

What’s going on here?

I think there are three things at work:

(1)  March is the 50th anniversary of the Selma and Montgomery “voting rights” protests and marches.

(2)  The Democrat nominee for President in 2016 is very unlikely to be a black man or woman, so this removes an obvious black turnout magnet.  I guess the other side figures that if they can keep reminding old black people that they’re black and that there used to be the bad ole days, this will serve to goose them out in November of next year even if the Democrat nominee is some pasty generic white guy.

(3)  LBJ is cast as a bad guy and a hostile force to the civil rights movement in Selma, when in reality, we all know that it was his political skill and energy which got the Voting Rights Act of 1965 passed.  However, if people understood that, then they would understand how little blacks had to do with them getting their own “civil rights” and “voting rights,” that it was entirely a matter of white acquiescence and white surrender.  Therefore, it’s time to revise history to make people think that Martin Luther King and the civil rights marchers did it all by themselves, in the face of a supposedly 100% hostile white political establishment.

Inconvenient Historical Truths

2 12 2014


Republican nominees for President since the end of WWII.

1948:  Thomas Dewey.  Republican nominee for President in 1944.

1952:  Dwight Eisenhower.  Easy to understand how he had name recognition.

1956:  Dwight Eisenhower.  Incumbent President.

1960:  Richard Nixon.  Incumbent Vice-President.

1964:  Barry Goldwater (the one exception)

1968:  Richard Nixon.  Republican nominee for President in 1960.

1972:  Richard Nixon.  Incumbent President.

1976:  Gerald Ford.  Incumbent President, albeit from a position of never having been elected President or Vice-President.

1980:  Ronald Reagan.  Serious contender in 1976, novelty contender in 1968.

1984:  Ronald Reagan.  Incumbent President.

1988:  George H.W. Bush.  Incumbent Vice-President.

1992:  George H.W. Bush.  Incumbent President.

1996:  Bob Dole.  Ford’s running mate in 1976.

2000:  George W. Bush.  Son of a former President with the same surname.

2004:  George W. Bush.  Incumbent President.

2008:  John McCain.  Serious contender in 2000.

2012:  Mitt Romney.  Serious contender in 2008.

So what you see is that to win the Republican nomination for President, you either have to have name recognition for some other political or quasi-political reason, or have run a serious campaign for President before.  Coming out of nowhere to win the nomination is far more a Democrat thing.  The only exception was Barry Goldwater, and that’s because his brand name opponent in that year’s Republican primary and campaign season had a toxic surname, Nelson Rockefeller.

Plug that axiom into the 2016 Republican field, and what do you get?  Jeb Bush and Mitt Romney.

It’s not that I want it, hardly.  It’s just that I’m preparing everyone for the hard bitter cruel reality.


25 Years Ago Today

9 11 2014


Germans dismantled the Berlin Wall using this one weird trick:

Plays the Piano

5 11 2014

Richmond Heights

I rarely have to do this, but I was in a situation this morning to where I had to procure breakfast from a fast feeder, in my case, the hamburger royalty chain that recently inverted itself to Canada.

Behind me in line were two young white women, early to mid twenties, both looking at their sail foams.

Here’s how the conversation went between the two of them, who apparently knew each other and arrived together:

A:  “What’s LYE-bruh-SEE?”

B:  “I think I came down with that when I was a kid.”

A:  “No, it’s not a disease.  It’s a person.  Look at this.”

(At that moment, I would presume that A showed B her sail foam.  My back was to them, and it would have been impolite to turn around.)

B:  “Looks like some old fag that plays the piano.”

Well, it only took me a fraction of a second to figure it out.  I was tempted to turn around and almost yell to them both:

“It’s Liberace, you dumbass.”

But I didn’t.

To think, Liberace was on Cloud Nine of the entertainment world for the better part of a generation.  And yes, as my mother, who was and still is a big fan of his, could attest, his flamboyant dress as a man involved in the performing arts fueled the gay rumors even during the height of his popularity.  And now?  Two millennials in a fast feeder order queue mangle his stage name all the while taking him for a “fag,” which I thought we weren’t supposed to say anymore.

Mark Pryor’s Much Needed Shot in the Arm

22 10 2014


And the Stupid Party calls this “dirt.”

This is just what Pryor needs.

Except that we all know he won’t govern this way, even if he believes this.  First off, he hasn’t governed this way.  Second, his only problem was with the way desegregation happened, not that desegregation happened.

It may well be good enough, though, to get enough white voters back on his side to give him a chance to eke this election out.

There’s Precedent

19 08 2014


Me, yesterday:

Except there’s one way to make this stop when nobody has the guts to let the people with badges do what it takes.  The first of next month is two weeks from today, and maybe Nixon could put a hold on the welfare benefits for everyone in those apartment farms until this shit quiets down.  That would definitely work, because then all the EBT black queens who can’t control their sons will suddenly find a way to control their sons.  Except you know Nixon won’t do it and Obama would throw a fit if he did.

This is a paragraph from pages 41 and 42 of certain book.  I won’t say the name of the book or its author until you’re done reading it.

Several years earlier, I had faced a similar situation as governor.  A right-wing extremist group had established a compound in the mountains of north Arkansas.  Among the men, women and children who lived there were two suspects wanted for murder.  The people lived in several cabins, each of which had a trap door that led to a dugout from which they could fire on approaching authorities.  And they had a lot of weapons to fire.  The FBI wanted to storm them, too.  At a meeting I convened with the FBI, our state police, and cooperating law enforcement people from Missouri and Oklahoma, I listened to the FBI’s case, then said that before I could approve the action, I wanted someone who had fought in the jungles of Vietnam to fly over the place in a helicopter and make an assessment.  The battle wise veteran who made the inspection for me returned to say, “If those people can shoot at all, you’ll lose fifty men in the assault.”  I called off the raid, put a blockade around the camp, cut off food stamp aid to the several families inside who had been receiving it, and prevented anyone who left the premises to get supplies from going back.  Eventually, the holdouts gave in, and the suspects were apprehended with no loss of life.

The book is My Life, and the author is Bill Clinton.



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