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Tuesday, July 17, 2018

Fair Game

Folks, if you're on the hunt for intellectual dishonesty and shameless hackery, look no further than this sanctimonious asshole. Here's a choice excerpt:
In the meantime, the view of the mainstream media seems to be that there needs to be more harsh coverage aimed at the family members of Trump administration officials.

For instance, there’s Darla Shine, a self-declared “happy housewife” living on New York’s Long Island. Just two weeks ago, Mrs. Shine—it seems okay to refer to her as “Mrs.,” given her declared celebration of married domesticity—was minding her own business, blogging about such topics as “canning at home,” “lasagna gardening,” and “tips for grilling,” and penning paeans to children, family, God, and country.

Then, on July 6, Mrs. Shine’s privacy evaporated. Mediaite did a big writeup on her, quoting her conservative and/or politically incorrect views on topics ranging from Barack Obama to autism.

That second paragraph does a lot of heavy lifting, but let's do a quick rundown. First is the none-too-subtle implication that until the big bad libtard media decided to doxx her, poor ol' Darla Shine was jes' a simple country gal, gardening and making lasagna and pleasuring her husband -- in a very Christian way, of course, which means no swallowing unless it's his birthday.

You would never guess that she had been a producer at Fixed Noise, until she banged her way into the exec suite and cashed in her chips to go raise rugrats on Lawn Guyland. You would never guess that she's spent a good chunk of that time trying various methods of monetizing her mommy bliss, spreading the word to day-drinking housewives who need a little motivation between polishing off the Chablis and fingering themselves to Dr. Oz reruns. You'd never guess she's had a years-long lady-boner for the standard ofay-cracka "musings," mostly variations on the classic theme of how come they can use that word, but we can't?

She's led a public existence for quite some time, doing years of social-media gardening -- carefully watering and fertilizing the ambulatory rutabagas who spend countless hours listening to closet cases like Melonhead Hannity and Fuckface Carlson regale them with lurid booga-booga tales of ISIS and MS-13 super-predator hybrids, menacing the elderly at the Piggly Wiggly in Bumfuck, Arkansas. You can't now suddenly immunize her from scrutiny.

Not that it matters -- let's face it, bigotry and vaxxism are job qualifications with their crowd. The only thing missing is a JPG on her hard drive of Obama photo-shopped as a loincloth-wearing spearchucker.

This asshole even glosses over Bill Shine's tenure as an unapologetic hatchet-man to a workplace rapist who not only got away with his crimes but was paid a fat $40M in the process from his agitprop nutwork. A decent society would have tarred and feathered a turd like Bill Shine years ago; instead, he's "rewarded" with a high-profile position in this ongoing shitshow, the treasonous embarrassment in DC.

Even without their dismal track records, anyone wanting to step onboard this sewage raft needs their fucking brain checked. But the idea that the Shines are just nice people done wrong is not just a flat-out lie, it should be completely intolerable for anyone to try float that shit past a competent editor.

Whatever puling standards "conservatives" once professed to have are clearly gone, like the brain cells of their sundowning clown-lord.

Monday, July 16, 2018

Helsinki Syndrome

Even before the treasonous, openly collusive press conference this morning, the thing that should not be in office went on record just hours prior referring to the EU as a foe, to our closest allies as foes. That makes sense, since he's been treating them as foes.

He thinks NATO is one his fleabag "resorts," where he sticks members for exorbitant rates to eat shitty meat loaf and watch him drive his golf cart on the fairways. He thinks a trade deficit means Europe "took" money from us, because he doesn't know what trade deficits are or mean.

The tide cannot truly turn until all of our aggrieved friends and allies -- Canada, Britain, Germany, France -- quit complaining about what an asshole he is, and simply stand up to him. Push back, tell him to go fuck himself.

Because Generalissimo Babyfingers is a proud graduate of the Ike Turner School of Management, that's really all he knows, this dynamic of smacking up a bitch, and then half-heartedly "apologizing":  Baby, why you make me hit you like that? Just imagine how emotionally stunted the people who have stayed in his employ must be, in order to do so. He is a toxic soul, and such things are contagious and pervasive. The tap water in the Org building probably tastes like tear-stained despair. And lead, sprinkled with asbestos particulates.

We got a mulligan with our allies and friends after the Fredo Arbusto regime, though poor Obama's staff has admitted that for much of 2009, they did have to mount something of a charm offensive with primary allies, reassuring them that the last guys were an anomaly. It doesn't take much imagination to visualize their reluctance this time around to come around to such overtures, assuming we're even able to weed these motherfuckers back out of office and into the gutter whence they sprung.

The retaliatory tariffs are a good start as far as responses go, and we'll see how the effects start targeting the stubborn rubes in Schmucklandia. That's only fair, after all; you made your beds, folks, now go die in them. It's about as close to targeting his actual voters for adverse effects, rather than collective punishment, as you're likely to find.

Anyway. There are no two ways about this, no other options to be had. Forget the Golden Rule, especially when it comes to this guy; the principle one should have in mind instead is people will treat you how you let them treat you. He treats you like shit, because you haven't given him any reason not to.

They have schoolyard bullies in Europe and Canada, don't they? Of course they do; assholes are universal, even when they have funny accents and eat weird things. And the rules for dealing with such people are also universal.

Our erstwhile allies and friends have to reach the same conclusion that our own voters must reach:  this asshole will continue to fuck with you until you fight back. You don't have to take his shit. "Norms" and "rules" of "diplomacy" have been tossed; stop continuing with the charade that they are still in effect. This is a street fight, a barroom brawl.

And this cannot be repeated often enough, either, fella 'murkins:  make a list of shows and advertisers, generate a 150-word form letter, and do a single mass bcc send telling all these companies what you're boycotting and why. Everything with the name "Fox" on it, not just the "news" channel. Everything with Mark Burnett's or Harvey Levin's or Piers Morgan's grubby, jism-stained fingers on it. I'm sure you can think of others. The only loyalty any of these scumbags have is to the almighty buck, so make them care.

Fucking Traitors

One of the very rare times we'll refer to it by its actual name -- Trump is a fucking traitor. Full stop. He is actively undermining the well-being of this nation, every day in every way. He has bullied our friends and sucked up to the worst monsters to be found in this vale of perpetual sorrows.

And now, with today's off-the-chain, unabashed gargling of Putin's balls, he's done everyone a huge fucking favor, because now everyone has to decide where they're at on this. It can no longer be denied, written off, talked around, or otherwise evaded. It is no longer a difference of opinion or interpretation, not that it ever was.

I don't know or care if there's a pee tape -- in fact, it wouldn't surprise me at all if there isn't. It doesn't matter. It's an open secret that he's been laundering bratva cash for at least a decade, and the Russians probably got into him earlier in the game.

It's why he won't release his tax returns, even though he promised he would. It's why he won't meet with Mueller, and talks shit about him constantly, ever more frantically, even though he insisted he'd "100%" meet with him. Innocent people have nothing to hide.

So people either understand him for exactly what he's been all along, or they have chosen not to. And for those folks in the latter category, whether they're sanctimonious enablers like Jeff Flake, or your asshole uncle "sharing" whatever bullshit Facebook meme just came his way. your best action is what you'd do if you were accosted by $cientologists or Hare Krishnas -- walk away. Ignore them, or at least recognize that there is absolutely no point in engaging them or arguing with them about politics.

If you see a strange person coming out of your house, chances are they're robbing your house. Just because they then subsequently offer to help you select a security system should not be reassuring. Either you see what's right in front of you and act accordingly, or you chose a baroque, completely ludicrous set of explanations and excuses, this Rube Goldberg machine of nonsense designed to distract you from what you just saw, and keep seeing.

The Director of National Intelligence, handpicked by Fuckface Von Clownstick his own orange self, is a lifelong, traditional, rock-ribbed Midwestern conservative, a former two-term Senator, back when that title was more likely to connote respect and skill. Before the people's representative houses got infested with sanctimonious hypocrites like Scott DesJarlais, window-licking retards like Louie Gohmert, or out-and-out traitors like Paul Ryan and Bitch McConnell.

It's simple:  Dan Coats, former US Senator and current DNI, says with confidence and knowledge that Russia interfered in our electoral process, and continues to do so. The person whose primary responsibility, whose solemnly-sworn oath, is to protect the Republic from all enemies, foreign and domestic, chose out loud to believe the hostile nation headed by a murderous dictator, over his own handpicked director of intelligence. There can no longer be any doubt about where things stand.

Let's stop mincing words:  Vladimir Putin is a murderer. Dissenters and nosy journalists get poisoned, shot, or defenestrated. He shot down a passenger jet, and invaded a neighboring country. Most recently, he has used a banned Soviet-era nerve agent to attack a dissenter in the homeland of our oldest and closest ally.

Russia is our 30th-largest trading partner, and maybe the 15th-largest economy. There is no economic or strategic reason to embrace them to this degree, and reward all their bad behavior. But they have him by the balls on the money laundering, and even without that, he'd do it anyway, he'd take their side every time for free.

That's what a lot of folks might not get about this fucking mutt, this traitor. Russia didn't really need any leverage at all, because he admires Putin, is envious of the absolute control Putin has, wants to be seen as ruthless the way Putin is ruthless, able to dispense of dissenters like so many gnats. It's that simple.

It's why he's had good things to say about Erdogan, Xi, even a third-rate thug like Rodrigo Duterte, who in a decent society would end strung up by his heels at a traffic light, his genitals stuffed into his mouth. It's why he slobbered like a Saint Bernard all over Kim Jong Un, a third-generation monster who victimizes his people and literally murdered his brother in another country, just to send a message. He wishes he could do those things.

The scary part is that there are people in this country who also wish that he could do those things. Not many, not yet. Mostly the jabbering mooks who waddle to the rallies, a comparatively small but still statistically significant cadre of individuals, not "deplorables" but irredeemables, because there's really nothing you can say to them. They're around the bend.

There's a good chance today will be forgotten within the next week or so, because we have become that kind of society now. One political party is shoved into a corner and disempowered, and apparently not riled enough to flood the Sunday follies zone and just start hammering talking points, the way the other party does. And it cannot be overstated how much that other party has collectively betrayed their country, and any principles they might have pretended to have.

He flat-out fucking said at an international summit that he believes a murderous dictator more than he believes his own intelligence director. That can't be repeated often enough.

So if you do find yourself in the position of talking politics with someone who still supports this traitor, just narrow it down to one question:  what exactly would it take for you to change your mind about this asshole? Seriously, if all things he's done and said haven't swayed you, what would do the trick? Another 9/11? A full-throttle economic collapse?

Or maybe there's nothing at all, he could eat a live baby and fuck a goat and shoot an old lady in Times Square, and they'd still be hanging on his tiny wang. In which case, once again, you know where to stand with uncanny precision, and can now act accordingly. Knowing where their true loyalties lie, and that in fact they have none, is oddly empowering if nothing else. Now you don't have to wonder.

Sunday, July 08, 2018

Heckle and Boycott

It's always good news when soulless cocksucker and borderline traitor Bitch McConnell is run out of a restaurant. But I look forward to the day when useless enablers like Jeremy Peters face the same treatment.

I don't give a flaming fuck if Doucheowitz' friends never speak to him again; they should have gotten the memo on the kind of human being he was after he defended Claus Von Bulow and O.J. Simpson. An elderly, doddering snake is still a snake, as one can tell just by looking at the Orange White House these days (to point at yet another person undeserving of any public defense, whom Doucheowitz nevertheless still needs to plant his sanctimonious lawyer flag on).

But this Peters asshole, and bullshit journos like him -- they're the real fucking problem. As Scott Lemieux points out in the LGM link, there is building evidence that one of the finance co-chairs of the RNC funneled a bribe from Fuckface Von Clownstick his own fat self to a Playmate that he had knocked up and paid her off to get an abortion -- after he got into office.

Shera Bechard just went into court a few days ago to file suit against convicted felon (and again, one of the RNC finance co-chairs, along with serial work rapist Steve Wynn and fake lawyer Michael Cohen) Elliott Broidy and, for some weird reason, Michael Avenatti. Broidy stopped making the $200k installment payments to Bechard for her silence, instigating the lawsuit for breach of agreement. Obviously, this has much huger implications.

But Jeremy Peters is intent on putting on his Librul Tone Police hat, and answering a question literally no one was asking:  how's that deathless skin flute Alan Doucheowitz doing, after being uninvited from the Martha's Vineyard shindigs?

Keep up the good work, asshole. Maybe there'll be an opening at Fixed Noise for you.

The smarmy, pointless meme of "this is how he got elected" always aims at libruls whose tone gets a bit uppity. But you wanna know how he really got elected? Shit journos wasting everyone's time on shit stories. Alan Doucheowitz is fucking turd who should have retired long ago, but he has a book to pimp so he's climbing up everyone's ass because no one wants to listen to his self-serving, disingenuous bullshit anymore. And numbskulls like Peters are right there to play stenographer, every goddamned time.

Wednesday, July 04, 2018

Moar Civility for the Tone Police

The Differences

Any nation that takes seriously its government's role as being truly representative of a majority of its inhabitants should keep some important differences in mind:

  • Between nationalism and patriotism.
  • Between cunning and intelligence.
  • Between cruelty and strength.
  • Between "America First" and "America Alone".

The premise and promise and principle of self-governance is -- get this -- that citizens are supposed to be high-functioning enough to, you know, govern themselves, to vet for qualified candidates to elect to represent the needs of the people. Silly, right?

Built into all that is the responsibility to pay attention constantly, and be engaged as much and as often as possible. It's not just about sitting through an endless stream of attack ads, and landing on the last ad you saw, or the candidate with the best hair or smile or stage patter, and then trudging off to the voting booth to flip a coin.

One of the greatest of the Founding Fathers, Benjamin Franklin, who like Alexander Hamilton did as much as anyone to build the foundation of the country without ever attaining high office, famously said that we had a republic, if we could keep it. Bear in mind that right now, six Republican senators are celebrating the birth of their county by sucking up to Putin in Russia. Bear that in mind and act accordingly.

Happy Independence Day to my fella 'murkins. May this be the last one we have with the current fucktards in charge.

Sunday, July 01, 2018

Rising Son

Another "fiction" piece, a bit longer than the last. As before, there may be some upcoming edits. Please leave feedback in the comments, good or bad.

The Marshal waited until his private jet had left the Malaysian air space to order his meal. It was not the Ilyushin he was accustomed to flying in, on the rare occasions he did fly, but a Boeing 747 -- albeit an older unit -- that the Chinese had lent him, one that they had used to ferry their own leaders in. It was one of those little things that made the Marshal smile to himself, and quite a few of those little things had occurred over the last twenty-four hours in Singapore.

He appreciated that this Boeing had a small kitchen near the front, and requested his personal chef to prepare him a prime rib, medium rare, with sides of potatoes and vegetables, and a bottle of blended Australian cab. There would be much to discuss with the generals once they arrived back in Pyongyang, but for now, he needed to think to himself, have a nice meal and a drink, perhaps watch a movie. There was a small library of Chinese, American, and European DVDs onboard, and a decent-sized screen. His advisers were seated further back, to give him time to reflect. Much had happened quickly, and things were in motion.

Saturday, June 30, 2018

Deus Ex Mockina

Recently on one of the milliard satellite content vessels, the feel-good classic Grizzly Man was broadcast, so of course I was compelled to watch. If you haven't seen it, I can't recommend it strongly enough; if you have, you know the magic of it. One of the main takeaways for me has always been the rather mundane observation that perhaps Disney, with its endless permutations of friendly animals that are, in real life, quite deadly and indifferent to your human concerns, has fucked up the minds of several generations of simpletons.

That's simply a circuitous path to saying that people are incredibly skilled at developing teleological viewpoints through which to view the world and how it works. Inevitably it comes down to them viewing and interacting with the world while encumbered with the baggage of their expectations of how the world should work. Like the unfortunate Timothy Treadwell from Grizzly Man, such people have an unrealistic view of how things really are. They are fine so long as their existential bubble doesn't clash overtly with reality, but the moment that it does is, let's say, rather clarifying.

And so you could graft that perspective onto the viewpoint of whatever remaining holdouts there are at this point, those hardheaded doofuses who are still convinced that 'murka's hallowed institutions will save the day.

The announced retirement of Anthony Kennedy simply underscores the entire miserable track record of Kennedy's SCOTUS tenure. He is and always has been fucking terrible, a preening, showboating Hamlet of a judge, concerned more than anything with casting the deciding vote on any given case. He will not be missed, and it's interesting and fitting that Kennedy has chosen to blow up what legacy he had, so unceremoniously.

(And now we suddenly are apprised that Kennedy's son Justin is a Goldman Sachs alum who has been Clownstick's fucking loan guy at Deutsche Bank. I don't know what's more ridiculous -- that yet another plot point has surfaced that would have been flat rejected by any copy editor as too preposterous, or that none of our intrepid media could have been bothered to ferret out this salient detail, I don't know, during the fucking election campaign? Sorta puts Bitch McConnell's decision to shorten Congress' summer recess in a different light, doesn't it?)

Which brings us to a third and broader popular teleology -- the idea that things will work out in the end. Frequently this is phrased as the warmed-over Martin Luther King quote about the moral arc of the universe being long, but bending toward justice. I would counter that with the classic J.K. Galbraith quote that in the long run, we're all dead.

Just as importantly, things don't always work out. History is littered with tales of valiant striving that was quashed by evil, unstoppable brutality, with no recourse. That "moral arc" shit doesn't work for me; I am not particularly concerned with where my fifth-generation descendants wind up, except insofar that they pay attention at all times and fight when necessary.

And I would put those two relatively simple skills forward as essential to the body politic. Do you want change? Do you despise the motherless fucks running the show right now? Then pay attention at all times and fight as necessary. That is all, but that is a lot, once you break those things down.

People are getting ready to protest, and this is bound to be an interesting summer for that reason. People will get hurt, possibly killed. I would suggest that there is a better way, that will hit harder, and produce no physical casualties. If you identify the biggest offenders and boycott them accordingly, they will squeal, I promise you. An organized boycott of Fox's various networks or Mark Burnett's various "reality" shitshows will produce far more value than a billion pussy hats.

Just don't fall for this shit that people are essentially good, and things will work out. They aren't, and they won't. There is an understandable undercurrent of anger in this country right now, and it will only be exacerbated as the tariffs start kicking in next month, and assholes start losing their jobs over the summer.

A smart, adaptable political party would capitalize on that anger and create momentum. Instead we have the Democrats trying to tone-police each other and make sure everyone's civil while the fucking ship is sinking. Well, as grandma used to say, fuck that shit.

No one is coming to rescue you. The bears are not your friends. Barry O is not going to save the day. The careerist limp-dick mediots are mostly useless. If you feel like the pigs currently at the trough are genuinely a threat to the country and its institutions, then maybe it's time to act like it. Develop a sense of urgency and insist that your elected representatives do the same, or they can go out and find honest work.

The Deal of the Art

Dave Eggers has a piece in the Fuck the Fucking New York Times that illustrates the rather obvious point that, among countless other things, one distinguishing feature of this metastasized tumor of an administration is that it has virtually no relationship with the world of the arts. There is much comparison with previous admins, and (surprise!) they are not favorable.

I covered this particular subtopic several times during the campaign and after the election, but it's been a while, and Eggers never quite gets around to the real issue. No doubt there's a shortage of artists who would be caught dead within a thousand yards of these scumbags, but there are plenty of washed-up miscreants who would jump at the chance to perform like dancing monkeys for the amusement of the emperor.

Comedians (or rather, "comedians") such as Rob ("Who?") Schneider and Tim ("Crybaby Narc") Allen have been outspoken in their support of this fucking failure of a roughly human-shaped object. And there's always Kanye West, who would never miss an opportunity to show up anywhere he and an interlocutor could suck each other off and pretend they're not completely useless.

It should be clear by now that Fuckface Von Clownstick is a perhaps uniquely empty vessel. Even his yokel fanbase, who would rather shoot themselves than read a book, do at least listen to music and watch teevee shows and movies. They might be bottom-shelf Honey Boo Boo / Duck Dynasty crap culture artifacts, but they're something. Normal people have things that they enjoy, whatever others' subjective opinions of those things might be.

So far the only people remotely associated with the creative arts who have been anywhere near the White House are Ted Nugent and Kid Rock. Does anyone seriously think that the fucking guy could name a single song from either of them? The only reason he knows who they are is because they vocally support him.

Clownstick literally does not enjoy anything that isn't about him, that doesn't function either as promotion or praise for him and his wondrous intellect and his heroic deeds. Real art requires effort from the consumer as well as the artist; the person enjoying the art has to be willing to concede at the door that the art might illuminate something greater, either within the person or out there in the great wide expanse of the universe. It requires a sense of curiosity and wonder, joy and engagement.

Clownstick has none of those traits, because he long ago decided that since he was the ne plus ultra of all human existence, past, present, and future, the rest of the world has nothing to offer him but handjobs and slavish obedience. Nothing else matters, or even counts. Whether he is praising or complaining about artists and performers, it is always entirely contingent on whether they have been sufficiently obsequious to his greatness. This is nothing short of a mental disease.

Incidentally, it is also a characteristic that subliminally welds him to his yokel cultists. Clownstick is the epitome of the ugly American who waddles into the Sistine Chapel or Sacre Coeur in cargo shorts and Ed Hardy tee-shirt, looks around for a minute and shrugs, not seeing what the big deal is, and heads out to find the nearest Burger King. That's exactly who they are, and that's what they love about him.

And it's the deeper problem at hand:  when you have an empty, needy narcissist who literally believes in nothing but himself, who never has anything new to learn or experience and is never wrong about anything, there's nowhere to go but down. And he's taking all of us with him, whether we support him or rightly see him for the dementia-addled psychopath that he really is.

Monday, June 25, 2018

Here Is Your Civility, My Main Man

It would be a Christmas/birthday/blowjob turducken (in other words, highly unlikely to happen, but amazingly sweet), but one fervently hopes that if (and it's a big if, frankly; there are simply too many retards wasting this nation's oxygen anymore) these thieving nazi cocksuckers can be pushed out of office, that the fucking lamestream media tone police and their selective hearing get pushed out along with them.

Never let those scumbags forget -- they're the reason we're stuck with these assholes in the first place. Fucking boycott them, all of them -- the NY Times, CNN, Kanye West, anything that's been touched by the greasy fingers of Mark Burnett, everything with the name Fox on it. Fascists can't do it without corporate enablers.

It's about to get weird, folks. Mueller seems ready to start dropping some shoes, the nazi fucks are "celebrating" the anniversary of last year's tiki-torch park putsch in DC, and all the cultists are going batshit over Baghdad Barb getting her worthless, lying ass tossed from a restaurant. At the very least, it's long past time for the dogsbodies of this elected tumor to be made aware that they are no longer welcome among decent folk. They need to all spend long lives selling oranges at the freeway off-ramp. This is no longer negotiable.

And their mediot appletini thumb-sucking asshole contingent should be right there alongside them. They can tell each other all their fucking Cletus safari stories, because the rest of us are sick of their Bungalow Bill horseshit. Go find honest work, assholes.