Monday, May 22, 2017

Finally Some Good News

Every big game hunter taken down by his prey is a good start. Every one of them should be reincarnated as one of the animals they killed, not for sustenance, but just for the sheer joy of killing. I sincerely hope Theunis Botha gets reincarnated as a leopard or lion, run to exhaustion by a pack of snarling dogs, to either be ripped apart by the dogs or shot by some rich, bored asshole taking a break from molesting children or whatever the fuck these scumbags do with the rest of their awful lives.

Getting crushed by an elephant sounds painful, and I sincerely hope it was. Fuck every last person involved in these things. Go watch one of their videos, read their forums, see their sites, including Botha's where he and his customers pose with all the wondrous creatures they've killed, like it's something to be proud of. They can try to bullshit themselves and each other that they're "helping" with wildlife conservation by culling animals, but to the extent that it ever occurs to be true, it's only because there are too many humans, encroaching everywhere and anywhere, like marauding, insatiable hordes of army ants, devouring all.

Sunday, May 21, 2017

The Secret Shame of Scrooge McCuck

Steve has a hilarious rundown of a few of the Snowflake cultists who are just appalled that Their Hero sold their vaunted principles down the wadi for a few dinars. It just never fails to make me wonder how these maroons suddenly figured out what was obvious to me back when I first encountered Princess Snowflake, about thirty years ago when I was barely out of high school -- he's a liar and a bully, nothing but a cheap, transparent bullshitter.

Those guys are always the biggest fucking pussies, and the first to fold their tent the second someone stands up to them. The guy has never been anything but talk. Ever. I just assumed it was so obvious and easy to check out, I almost feel sorry for someone who's too fucking dumb to realize it. Drinking the kool-aid is one thing, using it as amniotic fluid is quite another.

As always, Snowflake cultists, if you're that impressionable, feel free to drop a few bucks in the PayPal link on the right sidebar, and I'll be happy to give you further tips to deprogram yourselves from your zero's oh-so-compelling bluster. Just take the money you've been saving to attend Chump University, and send it my way. I'll send you a totally real and redeemable certificate of achievement if it'll help. Sheesh.

Media Enablers

Since Bob Schieffer is supposedly semi-retired as some journamalist emeritus, he doesn't have the usual excuses of callow careerism that most of them have when they reflexively parrot the status quo. I mean, if I wanted to hear mindless bullshit from a useless asshole, I'd watch Princess Snowflake read off a teleprompter.

It remains to be seen whether Fareed Zakaria and Brian Williams have learned anything from their idiotic "this is when he became preznit" mooning, but again, Schieffer should know better. He should be ashamed of himself for this.

But here's the deal, old man:  if you actually give two shits about your country and your vaunted profession, you'll kindly fuck off before dropping another turd like this into the world's punchbowl. Go fucking work for Fixed Noise, if this is all you're bringing to the table.

[via LGM]

Useful Idiots

Fortunately for the world, Princess Snowflake's hypocrisy junket to the Magic Kingdom is nothing but a meeting wrapped around an arms deal. Snowflake reads a good game on combating terrorism, but nobody who knows anything about radical Islamic terrorism and its origins takes this guff seriously, not when the speech is coming from the blackened, beating heart of -- wait for it -- radical Islamic terrorism.

Hey, I'm fine with the aggro "drive 'em out of this earth" rhetoric of the speech. In fact, I don't have any real problem with the content of the speech itself -- except it denies most of the reality of where radicalized Islamic terrorists come from, who bankrolls them, and it seems to take sides in a 1,300-year conflict between Sunni and Shi'a, a fight in which we really have no dog to speak of.

And the practical reality is that our coddling of the Saudis takes actual sides in the wholesale carnage of SA's barbaric war in Yemen. Snowflake is too dumb to know that putting his comically small thumb on the scale will have unintended consequences. You'd think that since he has interests in a hotel in Baku that's financed in part by the Revolutionary Guard, he'd be more careful about that sort of thing, but maybe someone needs to slap his name on a place in Tehran for him to get the picture.

AmCon's Daniel Larison has written knowledgably and passionately on this subject, and places Snowflake's empty words and promises in their proper context. This is nothing new; every American administration since FDR has been guilty of this nasty open hypocrisy. This is the unfortunate price we have collectively chosen to pay for our shameless oil addiction.

The difference here is that past administrations have not (at least as far as we know) pocketed money for themselves for such deals. As Larison point out, the idea that Saudi Arabia -- where, as Snowflake's christofascist goon followers never tire of pointing out, it is illegal to possess a Christian bible -- belongs to a group of "nations of conscience" is hilarious at best, but mostly just disturbing.

Of course, as with everything else he does, it is all too easy to find any number of tweets from a couple years ago featuring Snowflake's trolling of Obama doing exactly what Snowflake and his entourage are doing right now. It was some sort of high crime that Michelle Obama refused to wear a headscarf, but totally fine for Melanoma and Joanie to do the same thing. Toby Keith playing a concert that only men are allowed to attend (little known fact:  Toby Keith is in Saudi Arabia what David Hasselhoff is in Germany. Go figure.). As the first commenter in the Balloon Juice link notes, it's all worth it to see Steve Bannon surrounded by towelheads, with no booze in sight.

In the end, this is just the first stop on a trip that goes next to Jerusalem, where the Israelis are already pissed at Snowflake burning an intel asset whilst showing off to his Russian masters, and then to the Vatican to visit a pontiff that he, Snowflake, has repeatedly insulted. Good luck, fatboy.

So nothing new to see here, but this is less about the administration in particular than the US' ongoing geopolitical strategy in general. A practical strategy balances potential regional hegemons against each other, if neither one is favorable to the superpower's strategic interests in that region. And in this case, since our operational strategy in terms of money and foreign policy effort expended, is Israel, which both Saudi Arabia and Iran propagandize against routinely.

Beyond the ME prism of Israel's interests, there is of course the strategic interest of preserving our access to oil, and now in containing the burgeoning displacement and refugee crisis, which again has been exacerbated greatly by the meddling of Saudi Arabia and Turkey at least much as by Iran.

The corporate media don't even bother reporting on these issues anymore, since for one, they are owned and operated by conglomerates which have vested interests in these imperial adventures, and for another, most 'murkins couldn't find these countries on a map, much less keep them straight in a discussion of geopolitical strategies of past, present, and future.

Perhaps if someone could spell it out for them how much a gallon of gasoline really costs once all the externalities are factored in, they might pay more attention, but probably not. All they care about is the imagined optics of this thing, but the reality is that Princess Snowflake was every bit as empty and obsequious as Chocolate Hussein Thunder, or any other figurehead who goes to pay tribute to the keepers of the holy spigot. Snowflake's speech might meet the lowered expectations that he seems entitled to on every goddamned thing, but that's about it.

Saturday, May 20, 2017

Seven Days in May, Part 2: Symptom of the Universe

"And when you're a star, they let you do it. You can do anything." -- some asshole

Picking up where we left off the other day, I want to explore the notion of what happens after enough of us decide that the king is a fink (or maybe a wild animal), that it's high time to send Princess Snowflake back to Butthurt Tower once and for all, for the good of the country. The momentum builds, drip by drop by plop, a tantric level of mendacity and dumbfuckery. This is a man who shoots himself in the foot practically by the hour, and reflexively blames the manufacturers of the gun and bullets.

Obviously, this sort of nonsense is unsustainable. Things cannot continue on like this. Perhaps the big overseas trip will serve as the "narrative reset" the bastards think it will. Certainly the corporate media are instinctively positioned to accept it as such; if not for the continued events unfolding and Snowflake's unerring knack for fucking up the simplest of things, the mediots would go back to default as quickly as possible. Keep that in mind as we go along here.

It's a parlor game -- and a fun one at that -- trying to predict how much longer it can go on. Here's exactly how long it will go on:  until enough of the treasonous cocksuckers in his own party decide he's bad for business. Even then it'll be an uphill struggle; even then it'll be close. There are Republicans and conservatives who are already bemoaning the GOP's imminent collapse for the next generation or so. They seem to have forgotten that Saint Reagan stormed the breaches just six years after Nixon resigned in disgrace, that Gerald Ford came shamefully close to winning in 1976. People are stupid and their memories are short. Shocking, I know.

So let's say that everything "works out" in the best possible liberal-progressive shorthand scenario:  Princess Snowflake is either impeached or resigns one step ahead, Mike Pence is an ineffective placeholder, Democrats come back bigly in 2018 and 2020. The terminal assholes who thought it'd be a grand idea to advance their careers in the service of a pro-wrestling cartoon have trouble finding gainful employment, and have to result to their natural skill, blowing crab-ridden hobos in a urine-soaked alley. Karma comes through for once. What then?

Recall that Princess Snowflake is not the disease but the symptom, the tangible result of the malaise that has plagued our political superstructure longer than any of us has been alive. Snowflake is the natural consequence of a cancerous system. So what actually changes once the tumor is excised, but the cancer remains? Which policies and large-scale trends get addressed and corrected by the "good" guys?

This is not the usual "evil of two lessers" complaint and false comparison, this is a challenge. To take perhaps the foremost current example:  the health care system cannot be improved until someone seriously addresses why things cost what they cost, why captive customers must be forced to subsidize the eight-figure salaries of insurance and pharma CEOs. As long as lobbyists from these entities continue to bankroll politicians from both parties, nothing will change there, it just becomes another can to be endlessly kicked.

Insurance in general is a net societal benefit; we could not afford to drive cars and own homes without comprehensive risk pooling. But health-care insurance specifically is essentially the one industry where the actual business model is literally predicated on not providing the customer with the service for which they have been paying for, and continue to do so.

This is just one of many issues that have not been addressed with any real impact by either party. I do believe that the ACA has been a net benefit, and would become very much like Social Security (i.e., politically popular and therefore untouchable) with enough time and tweaking. But it still does not address the usurious business practices of the health-care racket and its nefarious components (insurance, pharma, HMOs).

Another issue is energy independence. Fuck the fucking Saudis already, amirite? The bowing is merely a symbolic representation of what we actually do for these fuckers, who are nothing but trouble. They snap up our expensive real estate as investments, while they drive Yemen into misery and keep the Syrian civil war going. They bankroll at least as much terrorist activity as the Iranians. The American policy of propping up these disgusting pricks with our petrodollars needs to cease, like now. It starts with making it clear that unless you actually need to drive a truck, you're going to start paying for all the externalities borne by driving your Excursion to the post office. And make it a national Great Works project, similar to landing on the moon, to achieve true energy independence. Start with rehiring the coal miners to make solar panels and wind turbines.

There are actually a few things that Snowflake and his snowflake rally goons were right about, the main one being the disappearance of their jobs, and nothing to pick up the slack. While I do believe that these real 'murkins, rugged individualists to the very last, need to suck it up and retrain or relocate, the fact is that there is also a role for the gubmint to help them to do so. It was promised to them as far back as NAFTA, and never really took place to any meaningful extent. So after Snowflake goes, what is the presumed Democratic savior's plan to set this situation right? A bunch of mealy-mouthed jabber about deferring usurious student loans for a couple years is not going to cut it.

Look. While the case presented by Snowflake and his cult followers is hysterical and overwrought, it is not imaginary. The wur muh country gawn "cultural" whinge is stupid, but there is a great deal of truth to the economic component of their argument. It's just that Snowflake, between his borderline retardation and his complete inability to empathize with other sentient beings, was never going to be the one to handle it.

It will only get worse. Climate change will continue to affect most harshly the countries who are already in a whole, overpopulated and impoverished and desperate. They will continue to flee to the havens of the industrialized nations, who are undergoing their own societal convulsions, and are simply no longer prepared to take all comers. Put more abruptly, Germany is essentially paying Turkey protection money to warehouse refugees from Syria and other countries. The Turks have the EU countries over a major barrel, and both sides know it. And the Turks control all the levers that affect the Syrian conflict, especially water.

All of these issues -- overpopulation, resource depletion, extreme poverty, terrorism -- are not just going to continue, they are going to accelerate. That's not politics, it's math. The numbers don't lie. Hell, they can't even keep the lights on in a lot of these countries.

The people who really run the country and the world, the media and the political system, have invested heavily in keeping us pitted against each other, for sensible reasons and stupid reasons, for economic verities and tribal emotions. They are certainly getting their money's worth, and there is no reason to assume that pushing Princess Snowflake off the Iron Throne would change that larger dynamic.

Meanwhile, the prion disease that affects the 27-percenters that make up the permanent doofus base only gets worse. They are in their cocoon, and they aren't coming out. As Steve notes, they can bullshit all they want about how they love them some 'murka, but they don't. They hate this country, what they think it has become, the road they think it's headed down, and the people -- which are, you know, the numerical majority -- who drive those demographic changes, or who accept those changes for what they are. They care more about monuments to traitors and slavers than they do about their own role in the here and now. It's unclear whether even helping them achieve better economic security would cure their epistemic closure, considering that that is entirely voluntary on their part.

Some of the Snowflake suckers are in counties that voted for Obama twice, but that doesn't mean that those individuals voted for him. Some of them can be won over or won back, and some simply cannot be reached. It is important to determine that distinction, and proceed accordingly. The Democratic party suffers from its own prion disease, that of fucking over its own base to curry favor with people who will never vote for them.

So rather than fixate on the exact moment of Snowflake's impending exile to his Manhattan Elba, it would behoove the liberals and progressives and party-liners to look beyond the schadenfreude of a lifelong schmuck meeting his entirely foreseeable political fate, and develop a grand strategy for breaching the very real political impasse. Not just to return to power, but to at least make a competent effort at walking their talk, at being an organization that is actually responsive and attentive to their constituents, and not just their donors.

Because the alternative is this:  there will be another Republican candidate to come, who will embody all the loathsome Snowflake traits, but will be smoother, slicker, less abrasive, more intelligent and well-spoken. A clumsy fascist is relatively easy to parry, especially one so anxious to step on his own dick voluntarily. A fascist with even a modicum of self-control will find an electorate ready and willing to actualize their daddy issues at the ballot box again, and a media environment willing to sell its soul down the river one more time for buckets of clickbait.

Thursday, May 18, 2017

Study in Contrasts

Strange, terrible news awaited us all as we awoke this morning to find that Soundgarden's Chris Cornell had passed. Later in the morning, it was disclosed that Cornell had hanged himself in his hotel room after a performance in Detroit.

I never have much of anything to offer when things like this happen. I have had several friends and relatives, nearly a dozen in all, kill themselves over the years, and so I have seen far too many times up close the frustration and despair left in the wake of such tragedies. The families look for someone or something to blame.

It is very difficult for people to admit, at least to themselves, that sometimes there isn't any clear reason or answer for why someone does this. We need to believe in answers and reasons for everything, and they aren't always knowable or apparent. Sometimes people have an inner pain or torment that they carry with them always, never confiding it. They have their reasons for making an ultimate decision to set down that burden, and frequently they don't share those reasons. It is a mistake to judge them.

Of the four main bands from the Seattle "grunge scene" (Nirvana, Soundgarden, Pearl Jam, Alice in Chains --  and yes, I am well aware of Mudhoney and Tad and Screaming Trees and the like, but those first four were by far the most successful) it is at least interesting to observe that only Pearl Jam made it this far without tragedy befalling them. I don't know what to make of that. It probably is simply a tragic coincidence, although it is certainly tempting to note the constant bad weather of the region, as well as the lyrical desolation of most songs of the genre. But that's a parlor game at best.

Of those four bands and their iconic front men, Cornell was the most charismatic and conventionally "rock star" in appearance and the way he carried himself, and he was by far the best pure singer out of those bands, and probably in many listeners' top ten or even top five all-time singers. He was really that good, and by all accounts, a very sweet and generous human being. Go back and listen to the hits, as well as the deep cuts. It's what he would want.

By way of bizarre counterpoint, Fixed Noise troglodyte Roger Ailes died within a few hours of Cornell's tragic demise. Apparently Ailes' death was the result of a fall he had taken, unfortunately not into a wood chipper.

Remember Hunter Thompson's classic, scathing obituary for Richard Nixon? HST would have had a field day with a stinking turd like Ailes. Nixon, for all his faults, actually had a decent side and tried to do some decent things in office -- started the EPA, tried to work on the health-care system, was by all accounts a devoted family man, etc.

Perhaps Roger Ailes loved his family, after a fashion; if so, it would be the only positive thing one could conjure up about the man. Other than that purely speculative observation, the world is literally worse off for Ailes' having inhabited it for a time. A master propagandist who seems to have inherited Goebbels' soul, Ailes used his television skills from the old Mike Douglas show (where Nixon found him) and his political skills from working for Tricky Dick, and refined Fixed Noise into the agitprop shop we all know and loathe today.

It is no exaggeration to say that the channel has poisoned the minds of significant chunks of paranoid retirees, while somehow grooming a new generation of gullible youngtards. It will take some doing to weed these termites out of the national framework, if indeed it is possible at all.

But more than merely a dark PR lord, Ailes distinguished his full measure as a serial sexual harasser and blackmailer. The allegations are well-known by now, and Ailes of course was able to he-said-she-said most of them away. But the one that stuck should be the one that proves them all:  Gretchen Carlson had the foresight to take her phone into one of her predatory one-on-ones with Ailes, and turned on the voice recorder app. Once confronted with irrefutable proof of Ailes' aggressive solicitations, Fox gave him a $40m golden parachute and $20m more to Carlson to keep quiet. Sixty million dollars total to keep this thing tamped down. Yeah, no fire to go with that smoke, right?

Dozens of women came forward on Ailes, many (as with Bill Cosby) from beyond the statute of limitations. But as with Cosby, there was a startling consistency with the accusations. Cosby's thing was to drug 'em and rape 'em while they were knocked out. Ailes' kink was to flat-out coerce women into sucking his dick in exchange for whatever work-related perk they were seeking, and then blackmail more blowjobs out of them with his secret taping of the initial act. Classy with a capital K, our Roger. If his widow and son have even a modicum of honor and/or dignity, they'll donate at least part of the scumbag's ill-gotten pelf to something that helps women. If not, well, shame on them.

And it is not a small detail that HRH Emperor Princess Snowflake Fuckface von Clownstick defended his friend right up to the very end. Because that's the kind of man he is. Birds of a feather and all. It's a goddamned shame that heaven and hell are merely wishes for celestial karma we shout into the void from the prime material plane, because there are people who do deserve eternal torment. If you factor in the wars and brutal policies enacted because of Ailes' agitprop, you can be sure that his body count is far higher than every serial killer combined. He should be cremated in a rendering plant, and have his ashes flushed down a portajohn at a Charlie Daniels Band concert.

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

Seven Days in May

Never a dull moment, eh? Let's recap just the major events of the past week:
  • Clownstick fires the FBI director.
  • Clownstick meets with the top two Russian diplomats in the Oval Office, deliberately excluding American media but including Russian state media. It's as if all sixteen American intelligence agencies hadn't, less than six months ago, agreed unanimously that Russia did something adverse to affect our electoral process. What could possibly go wrong with having a closed-door meeting with their top spies?
  • Clownstick initially claims Comey was fired for not handling But Her Emails' case properly, perhaps inadvertently proving the point of every "guilt-based confession" story (Tell-Tale Heart, Crime and Punishment, etc.).
  • Clownstick subsequently undermines his own rationales, as well as those of his staff. Comedy ensues as the gang tries in vain to get their stories straight.
  • Clownstick openly threatens Comey on Twitter. Every time Grampa Walnuts makes a boom-boom, a White House staff member clutches the ragged ulcer where their stomach used to be.
  • Remember that closed-door meeting with the Russians? Genius decides to show off to his new buddies and lets slip a piece of intel that is considered "code word classified"; that is, very tightly restricted and not to be shared with the fucking Russians. But (again) Her Emails, amirite?
  • It gets even better -- White House staff had to leak the piece about the intel leak just to get out in front of the Russians, so that they couldn't blackmail the Retard-in-Thief, or drop a nuclear news item in the next edition of Pravda. This is the kind of damage control last seen in Dr. Strangelove.
  • Turns out Comey takes notes of his more, shall we say, contentious meetings and conversations. More comic flailing.
  • Turns out Russian asset "General" Mike Flynn was known to be under investigation when the Clownstick transition team were vetting him. Plus Flynn blatantly lied on his background questionnaire. Plus Flynn, as a paid (and unlicensed) agent of the Turkish government, tried to put his thumb on the scale for them as well. No wonder the Drumpfkins liked him so much; mercenaries are alike in their ultimate loyalty. The rumor was that Flynn, seeing the writing on the wall, offered last month to turn state's evidence in exchange for full immunity, and was declined. It might be because they have enough to nail his treasonous balls to the wall, and so any horse trading is simply going to be a reduction, rather than an elimination, of the years Flynn will spend at Club Fed.
  • After unironically whining about armchair critics at a commencement address at Jerry Falwell Cracker College over the weekend, Princess Snowflake cranked up the waterworks for the US Coast Guard Academy, whinging as only he can about how the media are so meeeaaannn to him for reporting the things he says and does. Presumably 911 was called and they got him his binky until the waaahmbulance got there. Fucking pussy.
All this -- and more, I'm sure -- in just a week. This is more hare-brained bullshit than we saw in eight years of Obama. Can't say we're not getting value for our entertainment dollar here, folks.

One cool phenomenon has taken place for me, and I suspect at least a few other people. The anger and frustration I have felt for so many months about this situation has almost completely dissipated. I'm not kidding when I say that, as dumb and arrogant as I thought this asshole was after watching him hump 'murka's leg since the Eighties, it's no small surprise that he's found a way to turn out be dumber, meaner, more inept, more corrupt, than I could have imagined. Not just barely, but by a fucking country mile. This is a deeply stupid man who genuinely seems unaware just how coddled and insulated from reality his status in life has kept him.

Questions about whether he lies with intent, or whether he simply lives in some sort of (as Jacob Bacharach put it a while back) "collapsed distinction" between truth and falsehood, are moot. A person who continues to spin falsehoods for self-serving reasons, utterly indifferent to accuracy or probity, is just as bad as someone who is actively trying to put one over on you. The effect is certainly the same, anyway.

This goes for the Clownstick cultists as well. Shame on all the commentators and journamalists who insist on giving them a pass, or smugly lecture everyone else about how "this is why he won". He won because enough people didn't care what was true or not anymore, and wanted to throw a temper tantrum -- so what, are the rest of the country's citizens -- the majority, it must be pointed out -- supposed to give them a there, there, it'll be all right hug and validate their fucking feewings?

Why? Why is that the only answer; why are they never implored to grow the fuck up, read a book once in a while, maybe come around to the understanding that the rest of the world doesn't owe you a coal mining or auto manufacturing job? You are going to have to retrain, maybe get some more education, maybe even relocate. One candidate was prepared to help you do those things, the other one lied in your faces and dared you to not believe your own lyin' eyes.

Well, you fucked up -- you trusted the wrong guy, backed the wrong horse. So why are all the people who saw the dipshit con man for exactly what he was supposed to reach out and salve your butt-hurt? What the fuck ever happened to at least meeting each other halfway?

Whatever; we've gone over those questions ad nauseam since the election and before, and are no closer to an answer. Maybe there isn't one. Maybe it comes down to a couple of the core principles I've espoused consistently in here for well over a decade now:
  1. It is impossible to use logic and reason effectively with irrational people.
  2. People do not change until they understand that the cost of not changing is greater than the cost of changing.
These things are not elitist snark. They are facts. They are axiomatic, physical, mechanical laws of the universe, as sure and predictable as the Second Law of Thermodynamics. We would do well to keep these axioms in mind as things progress, as the snowball gains mass and speed, and the best laid plans gang aft agley.

So. Where do we go from here? Well, as I mentioned above, I have very little of the earlier anger and frustration I felt for so long, watching impotently as so many of my fellow countrymen willingly signed on to this inept asshole. And now it's starting to unravel, bigly. I will turn fifty years old ten days from now, and I would be lying if I said I didn't regard the imminent disintegration of this profoundly vile enterprise to be something of a rather timely present for a milestone birthday.

The cultists are already gnashing their teeth and rending their garments, aghast at the treacherous leakers and the infernal fake newsers who report their perfidy. They ignore what is right in front of them, that their hero is a fucking moron, that his only skill is reliving them of their wallets, of misusing and abusing their loyalty to him. They are still convinced that he is some sort of brilliant bidness mind, that his magnificence and unparalleled expertise will save us all.

Friends 'n' neighbors, let me add one more rule of thumb to the mix here:  Emperor Princess Snowflake Fuckface von Clownstick is to running a successful business what Michael Jackson was to child care, what Jim Jones was to making a tasty beverage, what Jeffrey Dahmer was to veganism. Look, it should be a clue to even the dimmest of bulbs that, even in the ultra-elite billionaires' club, none of the other members (giggity) of that club would be caught dead in the same photo frame as Snowflake Clownstick. I wonder if the real tycoons all know something that the angry crackers in the meeting room of the Pigs Knuckle, Arkansas Waffle House don't.

(See? See? That's why he got elected! Oh, go fuck yourself.)

As for the now-simmering debate over whether to impeach or to invoke the competency clause of the 25th Amendment, I would counsel patience for the time being. This is counter-intuitive, but true all the same. Bear in mind the two main core principles listed above, both of which apply directly to Clownstick's remaining supporters -- which, it should be noted, seem to still comprise a rather large percentage of his voters.

Again, it hasn't even been 120 days, even if it seems much longer (giggity). We saw all the stories, read all the interviews, saw all the profiles of these dumbasses. It's going to take time and an undeniable preponderance of evidence to get them to budge. They have to realize that the cost of sticking with a cynical grifter who is just using them is much greater than admitting (if only to themselves) that they fucked up, and need to drop him like the case of political gonorrhea that he really is.

What will make them come to that realization is the slow, patient, non-dramatic process of building a case, plank by plank, making sure that allegations and evidence are solid and irrefutable. This is exactly what is about to take place, and we have to let it happen. It may take months, or a full year, or even longer. Everything from delay tactics to seasonal recesses will bog down the process, make it take forever and a day. Keep in mind what's happened so far, and the delta -- the rate of acceleration -- that has been building the entire time.

Some are worried about a civil war, of butt-hurt rubes getting butt-hurt and taking to the streets. There will probably be a few isolated instances here and there, but a close reading of the Clownsticker profiles should alleviate most concerns. The most unhinged acolytes are, it turns out, the worst purveyors of the usual empty jabber. They are welcome to grab their AR-15s and mount their trusty Rascals, take to the streets, and see what that gets them. The vast majority of them are precisely what you think they are -- bitter cranks clogging their Facebook feeds with nonsense and lies.

In the meantime, I think Robert Mueller is a solid choice for special counsel. I think these guys are up to their asses in alligators, and they are starting to realize it. I think Page and Manafort, for starters, are people who realize that their literal asses will be traded for smokes and candy bars in the joint, and they will become very invested in avoiding that fate. I think that from here forward, even if the investigation falters and these fuckers get away with it all, every day spent holding their dicks to the grill is another day they can't implement their vicious agenda.

And in the end, perhaps Mencken was right, and nature really does abhor a moron, and that, combined with the other immutable physical laws of the universe, makes all the difference here. I hope so. I want to see every person involved with this clusterfuck rendered destitute, unemployable. They have betrayed their country for long enough already.

Sunday, May 14, 2017


It is no exaggeration to stipulate that the world would be an objectively better place if it were without these fucking dipshits. They cannot die off quickly enough. Let's cut the "part of our history" shit. I have never been to the south, and don't plan to go. But these delusional motherfuckers aren't fooling anyone but themselves, and it seems like they could find something better to do than getting weird over people who took up arms against their country in order to preserve their ability to own and murder human beings, and plunder their labor. That's all the confederacy was, and the world was a better place the day it was ended. Fuck them, fuck their memories, fuck their empty
rationales, their flag, their sanctimonious bullshit. And fuck their trolling "Russia is our friend" chant too. I'm sure there were Germans in the Waffen SS who fought valiantly for their cause. But it was a dismal cause that deserved to be eradicated as well, and present-day Germans thankfully seem to have enough sense to not engage in these petulant exercises. These crybabies need a better hobby.

Bunker Mentality

I get where Steve is coming from with the "recluse movie" bit, but he gives Clownstick way too much credit. If there's a movie that befits his reclusive, insular, impulsive approach to what used to be considered governance, but has now devolved to constant trolling, this is the movie:

I went to a friend's birthday party yesterday, and there were quite a few older conservative folks there, and they do indeed seem to be just fine with Princess Snowflake, for now. Nothing's going to change their minds, not yet anyway. As Ed rightly points out, we're barely a hundred days into this clusterfuck. He struck a chord with these knuckle-dragging apes, and they will need a bit more skull-fuckery and ineptitude to back away from him. Is there any doubt that he'll give it to them in spades?

But it's not going to get any better for him or for them. Snowflake has made it clear that he has no other gear; despite his claims during the campaign that he could be less of an asshole once in office, he is incapable of such a thing. He acts on impulse, thinks he knows everything and actually knows nothing. This is a combination of traits that has only one outcome -- failure.

This asshole is as stupid and corrupt as the day is long, and he may be getting away with some of it for now, but only because the Republicans in Congress will let him do literally anything, as long as they get their fucking tax cuts for their owners. But Snowflake is down to 36% approval (who are these fucking people, anyway?), and again he is incapable of reversing that trend, or of reaching out to his opponents. Once the Goopers understand that he's going to take them down with him, they'll turn on him so fast, it'll knock that fucking thing off his head.

Ordinarily you'd worry about a Reichstag fire, but these assholes wouldn't be able to pull that one off. The old saying about people who could fuck up a two-car funeral is true with these morons.

Friday, May 12, 2017

In Other News

I still miss Lemmy. They don't make 'em like that anymore.

Among Bushes

You're cruising down the highway and you see what appears to be a massive, bloody, fiery wreck. Authorities have arrived at the scene, but have not had a chance to close the site and detour traffic. The crash site appears to be little more than a cluster of crumpled metal and bloody pavement.

You slow down to an appropriate speed, and make a silent resolution not to look, but you see a rolling head out of the corner of your eye, hear the keening wail of a trapped child, something to require your glance. You slow down even more than you need to, without realizing it.

There are two ways this administration can go now -- chastened impotence or flat-out tyranny. There is no longer a middle ground, nor any "debate" among honest brokers about whether these people respect not just hoary norms of decorum, but the basic rule of law and the importance of long-standing institutions. (Hint:  they don't.)

Saturday, May 06, 2017

Better Dead Than Read

I don't know if you've heard, but dead-eyed-daughter-of-famous-retard Joanie Clownstick has a "book" out. Proving that she has learned at the feet (or, well, the lap) of Dear Old Dud, Joanie has cobbled together a pastiche of poached, decontextualized sentiments from other people, poured a corn syrup of tone-deaf self-help bromides all over it, baked for a lifetime of privileged cluelessness, and served as her own dish.

I'm not sure what's worse, the soulless branding machine that churns out this sort of page poop, or the brainless asshole who actually shells out money for it, who see Joanie as something other than what she really is, like they somehow see her old man as something other than what he really is. It's not like this family of boutique grifters has ever been shy about humping 'murka's collective leg like a horny shar-pei violating a hapless couch pillow. Whatever. You can see from the Amazon page that while the "book" has a majority of poor reviews, it is still moving quite well. There will always be someone stupid enough to spend good money on the borrowed musings of a spoiled dunce, if only out of sheer spite.

Just for the fun of it, enjoy the hate reviews from Slate and Atlantic, and remember -- this overrated organism has more money and power than you will ever see in your lifetime, and accumulates more of it every second. She's one of those people who never has to acknowledge how fucking awful they really are, and has the goddamned nerve on top of it all to cloak it in this insufferable pose of "helping" other women. You have to credit these people -- the grift just never slows down.

Saturday, April 29, 2017

100 Days of Trollitude

Trying to keep to my semi-pledge of not giving this worthless piece of shit any more oxygen, so let's keep this short:  the only surprise this floater of an administration has contained so far is that the caudillo's defining characteristics are even more pronounced than one might have supposed. I mean, he's been a barnacle on this nation's pocked, bloated ass for over thirty years now, so we knew he was a preening dipshit. We know he's a pissy, ignorant blowhard who can't let the slightest of slights go, and who has never been wrong about anything in his pampered, spoiled waste of a life.

But holy shit, he's the biggest fucking crybaby snowflake imaginable, a nasty little shit throwing a temper tantrum in the supermarket over not getting his favorite cereal. And he's somehow even stupider than one could have supposed, even after decades of brainless nonsense. In just the last few weeks, he's confessed to not knowing that:
  1. Resolving the health care crisis is complicated.
  2. Lincoln was a Republican.
  3. The office that he stinks up turns out to be difficult.
I don't know how you get that fucking dumb, unless you seriously have not cracked a book since high school. There's just no other way around it. And he's too fucking stupid to understand just how fucking stupid he really is. Even Fredo Arbusto knew his limitations, and let more intelligent people handle the heavy lifting, as lousy as it was.

Vichy media attempts to normalize this bullshit serve only to reveal their scriveners as fools themselves. Andrew Jackson was a monster and an asshole, but at least he was competent. the one thing we can retain hope in is that Clownstick is simply too incompetent to do too much damage before (hopefully) enough soi disant libruls manage to get off their asses next year and vote.

In the meantime, we'll get more stupid anthropological exegeses about how the Real 'murkin Clownstick voter still supports their man, even though he's either failed or flubbed every promise so far, or done all of the exact things he rage-tweeted against the Evil Overlord Chocolate Hussein Thunder for three or four years ago. None of those stories will have the guts to say the truth of what needs to be said -- those people are idiots, and it is more important to them to troll their country with an incompetent, incontinent old man than it is to fix the things that are wrong.

May they continue to get everything they voted for, good and hard.

Sunday, April 23, 2017

Coming Up for Air

The point of waterboarding someone is to simulate the feeling of drowning, of going under, to induce a state of panic and surrender. The problem with using that as a method of eliciting useful information is that a person in a state of existential panic will say whatever you want them to, just to get it to stop.

In the nearly two years since El Caudillo HRH Fuckface Von Clownstick descended his golden escalator in front of a bunch of chumps who got stiffed on the fifty bucks they were promised, it's safe to say that most Americans have thought about this pathetic asshole on a daily basis, sometimes many times a day. This has left us collectively traumatized, willing to say or do anything to make it stop and return to sanity. It has also left us with several inescapable conclusions:
  1. Clownstick sucks. Mendacious, corrupt, and deeply stupid. No redeeming features whatsoever. I mean, I despised Dubya and Cheney, but Dubya is at least fairly amiable and sincerely loves his family, and Cheney is legitimately intelligent and can articulate his train of thought, as demented as it may be. But FVC is simply an awful human being. He's going to fuck up bigly, it's going to cost a lot of lives and money, and he doesn't care one bit, as long as he and his shitbird family can loot and profiteer.
  2. The media, in the aggregate, are absolutely fucking terrible. Seriously, how the fuck is this a "transcript"? It's so heavily redacted and rambling it makes even less sense than a full transcript would have. And what the hell is this, this decontextualized boilerplate? It's this sort of lazy, enabling bullshit that made it possible for this wretched clown to stay in the ring long enough to do some real damage. Thanks forever, you assholes.
  3. The American people have enabled all of this. We are complicit. We are terrible as well. Half the voters use "make librul snowflakes cry" as their rationale for self-destruction; they seem quite literally to be more than willing to wreck the country if it screws over the right people along the way. They'll burn their own house down if it takes out their neighbor's house as well. Awesome. They deserve to have him welsh on his "contract" with them, just as he has done with every other contract in his miserable existence. The other half is starting to get the message, but still needs to realize that all the protests and marches and complaints to the Office of Government Ethics are meaningless if you don't get enough of them at the ballot box to put their candidates in office.
The thing is, none of have any control over people -- voters and politicians alike -- being stupid or corrupt. Somehow, the king of internet trolls got in, because we all forgot the golden rule of trolls, and we fed him, and keep feeding him. A doddering, senescent, declining, incompetent empire selected someone who has all of those characteristics in spades. He's an ideal reflection of what this nation has become and is still slouching into, and as such will accelerate its collective transition. Rather than obsessively commenting on the dumpster fire by the hour, it might be a good idea to start figuring out how to build that life raft, or at least just live a life outside the thunderdome.

So I think The Ornamental Hermit has the right idea here, one I've been thinking about for quite some time as well. I've got other projects and opportunities that need time and attention, and I'm tired of handing those precious commodities over to this greasy, useless cocksucker-in-charge, for nothing in return except more grief and stress.

I can't promise a Clownstick-free zone; the outrages pile up relentlessly, and get worse all the time, and some of them do demand attention, scrutiny, discussion. We haven't heard much about Russia lately, mostly because Congress has been on vacation [Ed. -- from what?], but it's about to break again, bigly. We might squeak out of this yet, if he can be neutralized by scandal, if arrogance and incompetence do their thing, if enough people get off their lazy asses and vote without expecting some kind of fucking reward for being a responsible citizen.

But we all have to get back to living our lives, and stop giving this soulless vampire and his cult of morons things they do not deserve. Let them live with his lies and broken contracts, and let them choke on the consequences. If we could send Clownstick on a rocket to the moon with Mark Burnett and Jeff Zucker, the world would be a much better place instantaneously. Until that frabjous day, maybe we need to just boycott them all as much as possible.

Judas Factor

Let's cut the shit -- Jason Chaffetz is a gutless turd, a toxic worm whose presence has lessened an already rock-bottom Congress. He's the mystery chum some dumb bastard has to mop up from the floor of a back room of a pet store in Reseda after a gay porn shoot. He's the floater that refuses to fucking flush already. Fucking dirtbag.

There are players in this bloodsport that controls our lives and fortunes, where you can say, "Well, he's an asshole, but he did this and this and that. He's not entirely awful." Chaffetz is not one of those players -- he's entirely awful. He's sold his country down the river, chasing shadows on the Benghazi nonsense, only to cede power to Grampa Poopypants and his Russian investors.

He probably thinks he can toddle off to be a lobbyist or some such, rake in such real money. Knowing the dumb fuckers polluting this country, he's probably right. But if he's thinking about running for another office, hopefully the folks in the Beehive State wake up and reckanize who's their friend and who isn't. Because Chaffetz is just another weasel who knows how to look like he knows what he's doing, while actually doing nothing.

I'm sorry he and his family are receiving death threats, and that's certainly wrong and awful, but it's also useful to recall that "death threats" encompasses a wide variety of statements, such as (for example), "It would be a shame if an asshole such as yourself were to die painfully in a house fire." So we don't know with any specificity or precision what exactly was sent to him or his family. None of this changes the fact that he sucks rhino balls.

Seriously. Fuck Jason Chaffetz. He's a prick who has harmed this nation far more than he's served it, and his family and constituents should be reminded of that at every opportunity. Let him go out into the job market and find honest work. He won't, because he's a useless asshole who deserves to spend the rest of his life on a sidewalk spinning a sign trying to entice people into a Little Caesar's franchise, and because the system rewards incompetence and mendacity better than it does anything else.

Thursday, April 20, 2017

You Can Take the Cracker Out of the Trailer Park, But....

So this happened. I must have missed the news that they're now selling deep-fried Twinkies in the Oval Office. Take your goddamned hats off, you cousin-fucking mutants.

Tuesday, April 18, 2017

The Devil Went Down to Georgia

There are at least two certainties when it comes to what we like to think of as "the democratic process" or (snicker) "free and fair elections":
  1. Self-styled liberals and progressives have a good chance of showing up to vote, but don't be too surprised if something else comes up, at which point the usual bullshit "off-year election" excuse comes up, as if midterm, off-year, or special elections don't count as much as the quadrennial circus that's ramrodded into every orifice two years in advance.
  2. Asshole conservatives will definitely show up. Every. Fucking. Time.
  3. If an election is looking too close for comfort, the asshole conservatives will conspire to nudge it in their direction with the usual "oops" shenanigans, a list of "dog ate my homework" excuses that would embarrass a fourth-grader who just didn't feel like reading the book for the report.
Which brings us to the special election in Georgia's 6th Congressional District, to replace "Doctor" Tom Price, whose insider trading makes Martha Stewart look like a piker (which she was anyway), and nevertheless was confirmed to, you know, oversee the nation's health-care racket.

Democratic candidate Jon Ossoff faces a clown car of Republican opponents, but need fifty percent to avoid a runoff in June. A few days ago, four electronic voter logs were stolen from the pickup truck of the poll manager, who left it unlocked at a Kroger while he went fucking grocery shopping. Somehow this dipshit still has a job; he shouldn't even be allowed to volunteer. I am willing to bet money that most of us who have jobs of any significance, if we had left crucial proprietary materials in our personal vehicle while we took care of a personal errand, and they were stolen out of the vehicle, we would be held accountable, as in fired. This asshole should be fired, even if he wasn't involved in anything nefarious. At the very least, though, the FEC needs to crawl up his ass with a microscope, and make sure he doesn't have any unsavory associates, maybe a collection of maga swag.

And now, tonight, while the election is underway, and Ossoff has fallen just a hair below 50%, the last county (Fulton) of the three in the district to report precincts, is having "technical difficulties." Oh, and Georgia is one of those states that does not require paper receipts for its electronic voting machines, because as always, accountability is for other people. And Ossoff's main opponent is Karen Handel, who is from Fulton County, and who, as Georgia's Secretary of State, would have overseen the placement of these voting machines. Handel will pull every string and call every back-room favor in order to steal the runoff in June.

It's a red district, and even if it heads to a runoff, Ossoff has done well, and has a fighting chance in June (until, again, Handel steals it). This isn't over at all, but that's not the point here. The point is being able to have an election anywhere, without this sort of transparent interference. It's times like these where you seriously wonder why we should bother having elections at all, when they're neither free nor fair unless you watch these thieving, traitorous scumbags like a hawk. They are disgracing their country, and everything they think they stand for.

The Special Club

Oh good -- Mister Man has signed another executive order. Buy American, Hire American! What a fucking tool. The American hotels that he slaps his name on are built with Chinese steel by illegal Polacks. He hires foreigners to do the scut work at his shitbox E. coli country club (pro tip: try the room-temp ham!). All of the shitty, low-quality products he slaps his name on are manufactured in twelve different countries; only his cologne (Sauerkraut, available in gallon jugs at your local True Value hardware store) is made in the USA.

Even his family and history exists largely from afar. His mother and his current wife came to this country under at least questionable circumstances, and may in fact have been technically illegal.

I don't really care about any of those things, except insofar as he thinks and acts as if he's in some exalted class of exception. The rules don't apply to him, you see. He lectures and warns and preens this "buy American" horseshit, as if American companies aren't supposed to do what he does routinely -- seek out the best available price for materials and labor, optimize the cost of goods sold.

This isn't going to work, of course; in fact, it will no doubt antagonize the tech and movie companies, which are heavily dependent on H-1B visa workers. It won't happen, it never does, but it would be sweet if just one (1) person with a large enough megaphone, whether a reporter or a business typhoon, looks at that stupid "order" and says, "Hey asshole -- you first."

Give Us This Week Our Weekly Fuck 'em

I have no idea why our insipid intrepid mediots continue to plumb the wisdom of the rubes, but three months in, and their tears of stupid are not even a leetle bit old, they are in fact quite tasty:

Usually, this pathway outside Parx Casino is reserved for self-flagellation, a private lament at the last hundred lost. But lately, as with most any gathering place around here since late January — the checkout line, the liquor store, the park nearby where losing lottery numbers are pressed into the mulch — patrons have found occasion to project their angst outward, second-guessing a November wager.

“Just like any other damn president,” sighed Theresa Remington, 44, a home-care worker and the mother of two active-duty Marines, scraping at an unlit cigarette. She had voted for Donald J. Trump because she expected him to improve conditions for veterans and overhaul the health care system. Now?

“Political bluster,” Ms. Remington said, before making another run at the quarter slots. She wondered aloud how Senator Bernie Sanders of Vermont might have fared in the job.

Well, gee whiz, I dunno, you stupid cunt. You clearly have the decision-making process of an angry chimp slinging its feces at a dartboard. What could possibly go fucking wrong?

Seriously, let's break this down just a touch -- the only way you end up finding a genuine dilemma in choosing between Clownstick and Sanders, two of the most diametrically-opposed candidates on every issue imaginable, is if you literally never read or watch or discuss with friends any sort of news or current events, or if you're simply a foaming-at-the-mouth Never Hitlery dipshit. Either way, you get what you deserve. Good luck with your fucking health-care plan, dumbass. Considering the system is now being headed by a crooked congress-critter who should have been disqualified for profiteering, literally buying and selling stocks in the companies he was approving legislature for, but wasn't because we are now officially a banana republic, the outcome doesn't look too promising. Maybe your slot winnings will cover it. I mean, for fuck's sake.

Then there's this asshole:
“It’s not what he’s done, it’s what he’s trying to do,” said Bill Yokobosky IV, 33, a train engineer from Langhorne, Pa., who was waiting for a haircut at a strip mall. “He hasn’t succeeded, really.”
Nonsense, Bill the Fourth, he's succeeding bigly. He's doing precisely what he set out to do -- make as much fucking money as possible. That's why he's installed his daughter and son-in-law in the roles they have now, to monetize every damned thing, to steal everything that isn't nailed down -- and if it is nailed down, steal the nails while they're at it.

On April 6, Ivanka Trump's company won provisional approval from the Chinese government for three new trademarks, giving it monopoly rights to sell Ivanka brand jewelry, bags and spa services in the world's second-largest economy. That night, the first daughter and her husband, Jared Kushner, sat next to the president of China and his wife for a steak and Dover sole dinner at Mar-a-Lago, her father’s Florida resort.

The scenario underscores how difficult it is for Trump, who has tried to distance herself from the brand that bears her name, to separate business from politics in her new position at the White House.

This is a fatally flawed assumption on the part of a media that at this point (in the aggregate, with precious few exceptions), can only be either inept or complicit. It's not "difficult" for Ivanka at all to "distance herself" or "separate business from politics," because there's been no attempt to do that, nor will there be. I can't believe a serious journamalist actually typed that sentence out without either laughing or crying, because it's not remotely fucking true. She's there to embrace the many monetization opportunities that will present themselves in dealing with the Chinese, who make us look like amateurs when it comes to checkbook diplomacy. They understand all too well that there's absolutely no need to get into an argument with a rival, when you can easily buy them off. That's her role, and her husband's role, to wet the family beak.

What's annoying is that yabbos from the NYT article like Bill the Fourth and Slots McHealthcare would be apoplectic if But Her Emails was doing one-tenth of the shit their hero does right out in the open (hell, I would have called her out for it); what's pathetic is that they seriously believed that a guy who has never not been an obvious, inept con-man had any intention whatsoever to "look out" for people like them, their families, their communities. The guy has managed to do at least one thing every single week that completely contradicts what he spent years whinging about on his Twitter account. Face it, you fucking assclowns, you endorsed someone who's biggest qualification is giving dating advice to Twilight actors. Enjoy that whirlwind.

The least we can do, once the majority of this idiot country finally gathers up their balls and brains and runs these shameless hucksters out on a rail, is make sure to start a fund to provide these simple, well-meaning foke with full-ride scholarships to Clownstick University. In the meantime, this is your fault. You made the choice to cut off your noses, I have no interest in helping you out with the plastic surgery. Own it.

[Update 4/18/17 6:48 PM PDT:  Holy fucking shit, the stupid never stops with these goddamned people (h/t to LGM commenter Outside Counsel):
"We love him," said Keith Muhlenbeck, 46. "We support him in everything he's doing. He's a businessman who knows how to get things done, and you can tell he has America's best interests at heart."

Washington pundits might be criticizing Trump for his recent reversals on a number of policy issues, including trade with China and the future of the Export-Import Bank. But Bobbi Muhlenbeck sees the president as a tough talker who stands his ground.

"I like that he doesn't back down," said Muhlenbeck's wife, 49.

Syrian dictator Bashir al-Assad found that out the hard way, her husband noted, citing Trump's decision to bomb a Syrian air base to retaliate for Assad's use of chemical weapons on his own people.

"This country used to stand for something, and now we're a joke," he said, arguing that former President Barack Obama projected weakness – something Trump obviously doesn't do.

"There's iron in the glove now," he said.

As for Trump's proposed budget cuts, Muhlenbeck doesn't worry that the food bank his family depends on will be forced to shut down.
"I'm sure they'll find the money somewhere," he said.


The Muhlenbecks, who live on government disability payments due to assorted ailments and injuries, were among about 200 people who lined up in a parking lot outside the Cornerstone Outreach Center for free groceries last week.

[emphasis added]

These morons are impossible to parody, but I sincerely hope they get what's coming to them. I'm beginning to see the appeal to being a Republican, where you don't have to pretend to give two shits about what happens to these thankless slobs when you cut them off from their free food and disability payments. Fuck 'em, good and hard. See how they like that "iron in the glove" when they're scrounging for garbage in the dumpster behind the donut shop by the tent city.]

Sunday, April 16, 2017

Death and Taxes

Here's a thought for next year's tax day protest, while Mister Man waves his short, stubby middle fingers at us all:  what if, instead of marching around in circles with slogans and chants, all of those people and more collectively decided to file for bankruptcy, and not file taxes. It won't happen, of course, but if enough people did it, they wouldn't be able to do anything about it.

You have to give them credit for trolling his Twatter feed, and hopefully they're also writing their congress-critters, trolling their GOP politicians' town halls, etc. Make it so that by the end of it all, this piece of shit wishes he'd just released him (though of course he can't).

Saturday, April 15, 2017

The Meek Shall Inherit Nothing

It is difficult for the ordinary voter to come to grips with the notion that a truly evil man, a truthless monster with the brains of a king rat and the soul of a cockroach, is about to be sworn in as president of the United States for the next four years....And he will bring his gang in with him, a mean network of lawyers and salesmen and pimps who will loot the national treasury, warp the laws, mock the rules and stay awake 22 hours a day looking for at least one reason to declare war, officially, on some hapless tribe in the Sahara or heathen fanatic like the Ayatollah Khomeini. -- Hunter S. Thompson, SF Examiner column, September 14, 1987, reprinted in Generation of Swine, Gonzo Papers Vol. 2, p. 281

It's a difficult thing to internalize what legitimately appears to be an impending catastrophe, and still go through your daily routine, your regular life, as if it will work according to plan. All the while knowing full well that the worst is yet to come, and in unpredictable ways at best.

More to the point, it's difficult to guess which will be worse -- the entirely predictable things to come (more voter-suppression tactics; national right-to-work laws; various authoritarian measures under the guise of "safety" and "security"), or the "black swan" events that are bound to occur (the most obvious example would be positing how far they'll go when the next terrorist attack or mass shooting takes place), and the reasonable assumption that they'll be underprepared for it and use it as pretext for something more awful (martial law). Let's just agree for the record that it's going to be pretty bad either way.

So far, it seems safe to say that this administration intends to "govern" the exact same way the scampaign was conducted. Its operational principle can be summed up in two words, stated as a defiant question, a dare: Or what? That is their default response to all the horrified plaints from the media and critics. "You can't threaten judges and reporters for being critical of you!" Or what? "You can't ban people based on their religion!" Or what? "You can't surround yourself with white supremacists and conspiracy theorists, and replace generals on the Joint Chiefs of Staff with your son-in-law and the alky editor from Breitbart!" Or what, motherfucker? What are you gonna do about it? Vote? Did you see how many millions of people out there are more than willing to line up and believe whatever I tell them, even when they know it isn't true, just because it pisses you off?

The first thing they will go after is your right to vote, especially if the early town-hall crowds we've been seeing gain momentum heading into the midterms next year. The pieces are already in place, simply by spreading the lie. When pressed for evidence, they just lie some more. Again, what the fuck are you gonna do about it, son?

The biggest truth to face that I don't think people give a damn whether the planet goes on or not. It seems to me as if everyone is living as members of Alcoholics Anonymous do, day by day. And a few more days will be enough. I know of very few people who are dreaming of a world for their grandchildren. -- Kurt Vonnegut, A Man Without a Country, pp. 70-71

The catchy boutique phrase is "fake news," but it would be phrased better (though less catchy) as epistemic closure. The gap between the average Clownstick supporter and the average Clownstick opponent is a widening impasse, a canyon at this point. And the gap is not political so much as epistemic. They are in their own universe of bullshit and agitprop, ad copy from the alt-right basement brigade designed specifically not to inform, but to enrage, to affirm misconceptions, to create and broaden a divide. These alt-right assholes will probably never understand that they too are being used, by a handful of bastards to regard the unwealthy as a lesser species in need of management, much like beef cattle on a feedlot, placidly awaiting a fate unknown to them until they head up the ramp, at which point it all happens with brutal alacrity.

The massive Harris Ranch sits astride Interstate 5 in California, about halfway between Sacramento and Los Angeles. The ranch is the largest west of the Mississippi, with hundreds of acres and tens of thousands of cattle. It is fully self-contained along the entire spectrum of turning a cow into hamburger meat, from breeding to packaging. The ranch is famously well-run, and the meat is very good, supplying the In-N-Out Burger franchises (as well as many other fast food franchises).

Being a lifelong resident of California, and having driven up and down the state along I-5 countless times over the years, I can tell you firsthand that there is nothing quite like the olfactory assault that lets you know you are approaching the ranch, miles before you actually see the crowded feedlots, packed with cattle awaiting their fate. The restaurant is excellent. They are extraordinarily good at what they do, which is using industrialized mayhem to produce something which is very good and nutritious in proper measures, but will eventually kill you if it's the only thing you ever consume.

People didn't change. They grew into what they had always been. -- James Lee Burke, Light of the World, p. 407

You know who had Clownstick's number right from the very start was the late great Jimmy Breslin. The man who once infamously gutted Rudy Giuliani by characterizing him as "a short man in search of a balcony" knew that Clownstick was nothing more than a loud mouth in a suit, a braying jackass who would never be anywhere near as smart as he thought he was. He had many wonderful turns of phrase, Breslin did. He also noted that "media" is "the plural of mediocre," a beautiful understatement.

Breslin cannily saw that Clownstick was just sharp enough to get the media bozos to give him free publicity. Not much has changed since then, has it? Here's how it was back in the day:
Trump will call and announce his rise. The suckers will write about a heroic indomitable spirit. Redemption makes an even better tale. So many bankers will grab his arm the sleeve will rip. All Trump has to do is stick to the rules on which he was raised by his father in the County of Queens:

Never use your own money. Steal a good idea and say it's your own. Do anything to get publicity. Remember that everybody can be bought.

The trouble with Trump's father was that he was a totally naive man. He had no idea that you could buy the whole news reporting business in New York City with a return phone call.
These jamokes ought to be ashamed of themselves, but they are careerists at heart, and that's that. Some of them, such as Jake Tapper at CNN, have gotten woke, as the kids say, and are calling the lies for what they are. More will follow, and maybe it's not too late. But it will take work, because the lies are non-stop, and each demands attention, and people only have so much attention to give to them before they become desensitized to it all. Or in the case of your cult followers, the lies are a feature, not a bug.

The lies are strategic, not accidental. This is not at odds with the fact that Clownstick is a paranoid old man who doesn't seem to have any expertise or knowledge of anything other than himself. But you don't have to be all that clever to know how to manipulate people, especially if you have a reserve of money and name recognition -- and now power, and the will to use it as an insufferable authoritarian who cannot only not tolerate dissent, but can never even admit that he's wrong about basic empirical facts that are obvious to all. Again, there is a strategic element to that.

Another part of the strategy is to keep the media jabbering about the lies, spending time and bandwidth showing the homework and proving him wrong on the facts, while he has moved on to other things and taken his flock -- indifferent to facts and fate, bored except for the opportunity to vicariously drink the tears of pussy librul snowflakes in between infusions of whatever reality-teevee bullshit they're mainlining this week -- with him to the next pasture.

These are people who, for all practical purposes, have given up on the idea of living a self-actualized existence, because for them, self-actualization has been reduced to trolling people on the internets. This type of intellectual perversion is now the norm. If "facts" are not only in contention, but have stopped mattering, then there is no longer any basis for discussing ideas or policy objectives. "What happens if a massive tax cut is (barely) disguised as a plan for health care reform, and millions of people lose coverage?" Eat shit, beta cuck libtard faggot! Lock her up! Build that wall! Derp de derp! MAGAAAAHHHRRGH!!!1!1!!

The dangerous thing about arguing with morons is people might not be able to tell the difference after a while, because it's wearying and demoralizing to the one arguing with the moron. The moron loves it, they crave the attention. They refuse to do the honorable thing and jump head-first off the fucking Hoover Dam already.

It's a no-win situation -- engaging with them is a waste of time, but leaving their noxious bullshit unchallenged is not a viable alternative for a healthy society. And like many a catastrophically-ill person, we won't see the sheer scope of the problem until the patient is terminal, too late for treatment.

It may already be too late. The amount of destruction Clownstick's candidacy and election has already wrought is significant, and that amount will only increase. The problem with over-using words like "norms" is that they undersell the importance of the things they refer to. A better phrase would be "rules of conduct."

I like to think that I have a creative temperament, and as such, I tend not to have much use for rules and traditions and such like, unless they make sense have some utility. If something works, use it; if not, use something else. If it sounds good, it is good. That sort of thing. But there is always balance -- when I pick up my guitar, I play what I want to play, without worrying about whether it's "right" or not, but I took the time to acquire a working knowledge of music theory along the way, because balance and structure are important as well.

So what we might regard as the tedious sausage-making processes of governance are, in fact, structures established to ensure continuity. Presidents come and go, and each has their own management philosophy, but ultimately they all adhere to established procedural structure. Players retire, and committees tweak rules here and there for playability, but it's understood that they're all still playing football. Implicit in this is that breaching those norms too drastically would grant unintended powers to future occupants of the office. This is already a problem, as the Cheney regime breached some of those norms in plunging the Middle East into the abyss, and Obama was all too willing to use those expanded executive powers to step up drone attacks extrajudicially.

But the current team of loons and outcasts are much more transgressive; indeed, it's not an exaggeration to say that transgression is a strategy for them. They are not playing football, they are playing Calvinball, where the guy with the ball makes the rules up as he goes along.

Right now and for the foreseeable future, the ball is in the hands of a demented old man who poops his rage-tweets out to a captive audience in the middle of the night. The cult followers insist that the ordure is the finest of chocolate, but people with working noses know the truth.

And once Grampa Walnuts shuffles off the stage to smear his poop on his tacky marble walls, the system faces some hard choices -- do we continue with these new norms, stretched out in unpleasant directions, or do we agree to dial things back? The trend has been toward polarization for twenty years now, how do you think that question will be answered? The Republican party has lost its collective fucking mind, and if Clownstick sees through his term(s) and is succeeded by someone from his (newly adopted) party, they and their cult followers will simply see that as a ratification of the corrosive dialogue Clownstick has ushered in.

The Democrats face a much tougher dilemma, regardless of how things proceed. Let's assume for the sake of argument that Clownstick does not start designing his own military uniforms and declare himself caudillo permanente. He will leave office at some point within the next eight [fuck!] years. Let's further stipulate that he leaves office in one of the following scenarios:
  1. Early removal from office -- impeachment, scandal, run out of town on a rail just for being an all-around cocksucker.
  2. Voted out after one term -- Dems win in 2020.
  3. Retires after one term, succeeded by Republican.
  4. Serves two terms, succeeded by Republican.
  5. Serves two terms, succeeded by Democrat.
Only in the first scenario is it even possible that the Goopers might be encouraged to return to playing by the traditional rules, but even then it's a low-probability bet, as Merrick Garland can tell you. This is purely a risk-reward situation, and the only way they stop doing what they've been doing is if they get punished by the electorate.

As for the Democrats, thinking solely in game-theory outcomes, only the first two work to their advantage, and then they have to decide whether to engage in punitive retribution or reconciliation. Personally, I think a balance of both would be useful -- give the moderate Republicans a come-to-Jesus option and openly vow a return to some semblance of bipartisanship, while weeding out the hardcore cracker contingent, who are fucking useless and worthless as politicians and as human beings. Louie Gohmert, Steve King, Scott DesJarlais, that type. Put 'em up against the wall, figuratively of course.

That's what the Democrats should do in those instances. What they are most likely to do is adopt their usual spork-to-a-gunfight stance, offer to play nice (which under these circumstances is essentially punting on first down), and revert to their traditional role as the pawl to the Goopers' ratchet. It's what they know, and the adversarial pose keeps the money rolling in, and provides a great excuse for not actually getting anything done for working class Americans.

So far, they've done fairly well, letting the Goopers trip on their dicks and bluster their way into a corner. They understand that arrogance, stupidity, and incompetence are measurable physical forces, like gravity. They are letting gravity do its thing for now. They would do well to compose a more compelling narrative to sell themselves, not just as a "we're not them" option, but as an "I am voting for the Democratic candidate because ___________" option. Bringing Clownstick down is a net positive, but will not bring the cultists along at all, and may even set some of them off.

There has to be a reason why one side is better, rather than an ongoing teleology of how the other side is worse. Endlessly increased polarization of the electorate leads probabilistically to civil war of some sort; in a country as large and diverse as the US, it would likely take the form of ongoing terrorist-style attacks here and there, and the ongoing delegitimization of the electoral process itself (think of the natural consequences of Clownstick's "rigged" claims throughout October, had HRC won).

The problem with the police is not that they are fascist pigs but that our country is ruled by majoritarian pigs. -- Ta-Nehisi Coates, Between the World and Me, p. 79

One of the more annoying cultural trends here (perhaps it exists in other countries; don't know or care) is the empty longing of nostalgia. This is most aptly characterized by the slew of Facebook memes with inane proclamations such as "Share if you miss The Dukes of Hazzard!" or "Bring Back Bugs Bunny!"

This is not at all an aesthetic judgment, although it is indeed tedious in that aspect as well. There is nothing intrinsically wrong with either of these entertainments, nor anything else from that era. I don't buy into any SJW nonsense about the Dukes perpetuating racism because of the traitor slaver flag on the General Lee. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.

What's annoying about these memes is that for the susceptible, they hark back to a simpler, "better" time, in the Those Were the Days sense. Cultural mores, expectations, and roles are inextricably tied and assigned, and woe betide the persons or groups who step outside those lines. It is an especially pernicious form of political correctness, one that (like its campus SJW doppelganger) stifles dissent with overt social pressure.

This is the social subtext of the typical Clownstick voter. If Americans (in the aggregate) were looking to time-travel back to the good ol' days, they overshot the imagined Elysium of their '70s-'80s childhood, and went all the way back to the 1930s. Clownstick presents himself as anti-establishment, which is a classic marketing technique, and the rubes buy into it, but he (and they) are anything but rebels or mavericks. They are counter-reformationists, antidisestablishmentarians, the squarest of the square, the most proudly regressive of all animals.

And in this particular social context -- the world on the cusp of generational crises revolving around refugees, religious fundamentalism, and water scarcity; declining economic stability and mobility in the wake of a supposed recovery; weariness and frustration with politicians who make promises and never follow through; entire communities of people who have simply given up -- the regressive squares seek the comfort of the myths they know and remember.

It doesn't take a genius to know that people would rather be lied to than ignored. The problem is that the path of empty nostalgia, reactionary isolationism, and revanchist demagoguery all lead directly to authoritarianism and fascism, a reflection of their desperate need to control reality simply by insisting that the delusion is real, and facts can be ignored or willed away.

We've become a land of fractal, selective narratives, but when all of those narratives and the political system are overtly controlled by the same club that pits us all against each other, how do we back out of the corner we've gotten ourselves into. Stability is predicated on norms and order, but these people use disruption and chaos as a strategy. Again, these things are not accidental.

He'd meant well, or at least he hadn't meant ill. -- Margaret Atwood, Oryx and Crake, p. 284

Larger-scale changes have been going on that not only underpin this recent sea change in the electorate, but will reinforce it in the coming years. The hollowing out of the Democratic Party, much of it self-inflicted, continues apace, with no bench at all at the national level and very little structural integrity at the state and local levels in most of the country. At least they are starting to apprehend the lessons that their Republican counterparts applied to Obama every chance they got -- obstruct and pontificate every chance you get, even if it's just symbolic; do not go along for any reason whatsoever.

I might complain about California every now and again, but there are very few other states -- like, fewer than five -- that I'd even consider living in, or even visiting. Most of them seem to be well into their toxic economic spirals. If I want to see towns full of clapboard destitution and angry morlocks putting the same inane tattoos on their arm fat, there are more than enough places throughout Cali to do just that.

Case in point: if we accept the premise that we are more or less in a perpetual campaign cycle these days, then it would behoove the Democrats to start their search for the 2020 candidate right away. So what nationally known Democrat looks like a viable contender right now? I do think Cory Booker and perhaps Kamala Harris have potential (and Kirsten Gillibrand seems to be sensing -- correctly -- that there's no time like the present), but we're talking now, like they need to start fundraising ASAP and be ready to throw in by summer 2018. Julian Castro also seems like a possibility, and was on the short list as a Hillary running mate, but it's noteworthy that you've heard nothing about him since. I don't even recall reading anything about whether he (for example) campaigned for her in Texas.

So it's looking pretty grim right now for the opposition, and their best hope for a comeback in 2018 and 2020 is that the Clownstick regime is as incompetent and mendacious as they appear to be. So far they are exactly those things. He and they can be counted on to be both arrogant and stupid, a combination that guarantees negligence and/or overreach. Whether it's another 9/11 or Katrina or attempt to privatize Social Security or Yosemite, they will find a way to fuck things (and by consequence, people) up.

But in the meantime, even larger dynamics than those are in play, gathering momentum, and will only heighten the contradictions. One is that there are simply more people than there are things for them to do, as far as careers and gainful employment go, and that's not going to change -- in fact, thanks to automation, commodification, and outsourcing, it's only going to get worse. And the rageaholics in their blown-out factory towns are going get it snapped off in their asses bigly.

Second, and just as worrisome, is that the corporate media (MSM, whatever term of endearment you prefer) is dying, and they know it, but they have no idea what to do about it. Caught in a merciless landscape of niches competing for the gnat-like attention spans of illiterate morons who no longer have any use for facts or information, corporate entities are basically being put in the position of having to go along to get along.

The Clownstick regime will be quite literally an existential dilemma for the press monkeys: on the one hand, all they have to do is follow the money, he's not even bothering to conceal the self-dealing and profiteering; on the other hand, they have to beat it home and make it stick, again for indifferent idiots and vengeful saps.

The press are finally starting to realize that he is not their fucking friend. But some in the press and in gubmint are still operating under the fanciful notion that "values" and "norms" and "checks" and "balances" will protect us all from the depredations of the caudillo. I'll be damned if I know what the hell these people are thinking. Again, when the autocrat tells you who he is, believe him.

It is reasonable to implore folks to Do Something. Some of those Somethings are easy enough to agree with -- for example, if there is an issue near and dear to your heart, you can and should write eloquently and often to your elected representatives, at all levels. That's their best barometer of how they're doing, and aside from their interactions with the donor/owner class, it's their primary source of contact with constituents and voters.

But the whole takin'-it-to-the-streets bit? Good luck with that. I can't think of a bigger pound-for pound waste of time and energy, statistically speaking. The only time people notice that shit is when someone gets hurt or killed. Or maybe you get arrested, and find yourself on the hook of the profiteering carceral state for a while, which is the real hidden future of what's left of our fair republic. Either way, your voice, such as it is, is effectively silenced. The media will not memorialize your principled martyrdom; whether it's forgotten while you're paying down a fine, getting raped in the showers at Rikers, or being buried in a potters' field makes little difference.

And for what? The longevity of any given "protest" means nothing -- how long did Occupy Wall Street sit there outside Goldman Sachs, only to be ridiculed by former GS staffers turned news-readers such as Erin Burnett? What was the eventual outcome of all the riots in Ferguson or Baltimore? The massive Iraq War protests across the nation and around the world in 2003? The post-election protests in November 2016?

In fact, you can count on a mathematical, directly proportional relationship between the length of a protest, and the likelihood of the media -- and therefore, the public at large -- to delegitimize the protesters, and by association whatever their cause is. It starts with the usual "don't these people have jobs to go to" jabs, then quickly degrades outright into the collective assertion that the protesters' supposed refusal to engage with a political system that openly and routinely neglects and ignores them, proves by the Axiom of Transitive Bullshit that they are not "serious" enough to be taken seriously.

I'm going to suggest that there are much more effective modes of protest that are infinitely simpler -- in fact, people literally don't have to get off their asses, and they can still make an actual difference. The trick is that there have to be enough people to do it.

For some years now, the ongoing "joke" has been that our two-party system is really one party (the Democrats), and a coalition of extremists and Jesus freaks all trying to get their pet obsessions legislated. There has been some truth to that, as far as it goes, but again, the 2016 election exposed some catastrophic flaws in the "responsible" party (depending, of course, on one's perspective).

Let's say for the sake of argument, that in a strictly operational sense, in the sense that a political party is an organized entity that advocates the interests of its constituents, that a party should reflect and fight for those concerns, that the United States of America has no true political parties as such. Rather, we have two organizations that pretend loudly to serve the interests of their bases, while quietly promoting and advancing the financial interests of the corporations that fund them.

More to the obvious point:  this is entirely a money game, and therefore you either donate enough to own a share of the system and its players, or you are just a spectator. This is a game played by millionaires, on fields owned by billionaires, and we're all just the chumps out there in the stands, with our fan cosplay and face paint and team swag, maybe the big wooden letter "D" and a few feet of picket fence. We think our cheering has an effect on the outcome of the game.

But the outcome of the game is completely irrelevant, except insofar as we are fans of one or the other of the participating teams. I've been a fan of the Oakland Raiders for over forty years, since I was in second grade, and it's nice to see them back in the playoffs after more than a decade. But they could win the Super Bowl and it won't put a dime in my pocket, unless I happen to be involved in helping them build a new stadium (the cost of which then gets amortized throughout the community for the next generation). Money still changes hands all over the place, from ticket sales to parking fees to concession stands to jersey kiosks to television revenue packages. But 99% of the money exchanged amounts to an upward transfer, from fans to owners, in various ways.

Now, if a sports franchise consistently puts out a shit product, there are direct consequences. Fans simply stop buying tickets and swag and NFL Sunday Ticket packages, and the revenue starts drying up. The team and the league have to be responsive, or continue to lose money. This provides a useful model for real political protest, especially now that the pelf-grubbing Clownstick regime is coming in.

Take, for just one example, the reality teevee shitshow "Celebrity" Apprentice, the vehicle by which Hair Fuhrer kept his public profile since 2004. The show will now of course be hosted by Arnold Schwarzenegger, but Clownstick will retain an executive producer credit, meaning he will still earn money from whatever entertainment value is to be had from watching "Snooki" and other washed-up has-beens and never-weres try to run a taco truck or whatever. So what would happen if enough people got together and collectively boycotted every company that advertises on that fuckfest, and emails those companies and tells them precisely why they're boycotting?

Or take Mark Burnett (please), the limey asshole who created the Apprentice, as well as Survivor, The Voice, Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader, and many other lesser-known contributions to lowering the lowest common denominator. Burnett has made a career of turd-mining; his content model seems to almost literally be to throw everything at the wall and see what sticks. And it's all shit.

So Burnett is bad enough simply because he's made an impossible amount of money somehow finding a way to make American television even worse than it already was. He also makes shitty Bible features, perhaps as some sort of atonement (even though simply going the fuck away would be acceptable). Informed speculation in the closing weeks of the election had it that Burnett was sitting on any number of inflammatory Apprentice outtakes that had Clownstick saying the n-word, the c-word, and more. Not that it would have mattered, but the fact is that Burnett is an admirer of Clownstick, and closely aligned with him. So what about boycotting as many of the companies that advertise on Burnett's various bags of fertilizer as possible?

Look. There is a practical limit, thanks in no small part to various levels of vertical integration, to how much you can boycott and still lead a normal life. But the beauty of it is, you don't need to hit all of them, just one or two. They're herd animals; even the shadow of a lion will empty out the watering hole with a quickness. Just pick the top three companies on Burnett's top three shows, and let them know. That last part is key; I wasn't watching any of his fucking crapfests anyway, but I buy stuff, and so do you. These programs exist solely to put butts in seats and sell cars and pharmaceuticals and cell phone plans. If a million people tell Toyota and T-Mobile that they'll never buy their products again because they're buying time with someone who has actively participated in ruining the nation on cultural and political levels, they'll listen.

We're all still a little bit shell-shocked from the last eighteen months, and bracing ourselves for the shit tornado brewing on the near horizon, heading straight for our collective trailer park. Beyond the usual name calling and partisan sniping, the hate toward the Berniebros and the idiot pollsters and the prevent-defense candidate that lost to a reality-teevee clown, and on and on. Maybe the unspoken source of anger and frustration on the part of Hillary voters is finding out the hard way that your country isn't what you had thought and hoped and believed it was....or perhaps worse yet, realizing that it was, in the end, exactly what you had feared.

Truth is, both of those things are true. It's a big fucking country, obviously, 325 million people and counting. By the law of averages, some of them are assholes. What still holds true is that everyone has the right to be wrong and to be asshole about it. And each side considers the other assholes -- except, of course, some of them are friends or relatives, individuals we actually know and respect and care about. But civility may be out the window for some time; there is clearly nothing gained by taking the so-called higher ground, and in fact there is something cathartic about sniping at them, at him. Just as the occupant before Obama was never referred to by his given name, and certainly not with the P-word, I will never refer to Clownstick by his given name, or by his acquired title. It may be petty and futile, but that's all we got at this point. Knowing that he would be annoyed by it makes me smile, and those are going to be harder to come by until these fuckers are gone.

Better yet, give their bullshit right back to them -- when they pulling their fake-tough nonsense, respond with Or what?