Month: January 2021

Of Course They Will

Anarchist thugs, BaconLettuceMayo

Here we go:

More than 300 District of Columbia National Guardsmen will be in Washington this week to help support police officers patrolling protests scheduled by supporters of President Donald Trump this week.

“We have received confirmation that the D.C. National Guard will be assisting the Metropolitan Police Department, beginning tomorrow through the life cycle of this event,” Metropolitan Police Chief Robert Contee III told reporters at a press conference on Jan. 4.

National Guard personnel will be assisting police officers from Jan. 5 to 7 with crowd management and traffic control, freeing officers “to focus on anyone who’s intent on instigating, agitating, or participating in violence in our city,” he added.

Mayor Muriel Bowser, a Democrat, revealed she’d requested National Guard help in a Dec. 31 letter to District of Columbia National Guard Commanding General William Walker.

Bowser said guardsmen wouldn’t be armed and wouldn’t be involved in domestic surveillance, searches, or seizures of Americans.

Damn right they won’t be.  That would be un-Constitutional, not that the godless Socialists ever cared much about that.

As long as Mayor Trotsky keeps the Guard hanging around the inevitable crowd of Commie agitators (that would be the BLM / Pantifa ilk), there shouldn’t be any violence.  I’m not holding my breath.

I just wish I could be there.  I do plan on watching it on TV while I sharpen my M4 bayonet, whispering, “Soon, soon, my Precioussss…”

Captivated, Not Trapped

Entertainment

What a lovely surprise.

I just finished watching the Scandi-cop (set in Iceland) show Trapped on BezosTV, and it’s beyond-words excellent.  The characters are quite real:  they’re like people you meet everyday — no superhero dead shots, no Clinty-style fistfights, people blundering through tragedy and triumph with a complete absence of witty one-liners — in short, just about the way real people behave.   And speaking of real, the unlikely lead character is the bearlike  Icelander Ólafur Darri Ólafsson with a truly magnificent performance.

As usual with Scandi-dramas, the story is complicated, with plenty of sub-plots which all somehow tie together in the end, but very believably.  It’s a tiny town in Iceland, after all, and it’s not surprising that everyone is somehow connected.

Don’t get me started on the setting and the scenery:  I’m still shivering.

This is not a show to be missed.  I’m going to take a break before I watch the second season so I can savor every memory of the first.  It’s that good.

News Roundup

Bad News

As always, long on snark, short on words.


…and Aldi’s “every-day-low-price” image goes down the drain.


…so if you hear a strange sound in the night, reach for that face mask, folks.  Although I can’t help thinking that a mask of Nancy Pelosi‘s face might work better than an AR to frighten off burglars.  And speaking of which:


…nice to see that Congress is dealing with all the important issues that concern us the most.  And speaking of PelosiNews:


…earlier reports that it was Chuck Schumer’s actual head were, sadly, incorrect.


…and that’s too bad.  If anyone is in dire need of a redesigned persona, it’s Billy Ray’s tarty little girl.


…and the girls’ parents in all this were… where, exactly?  Not walking on the beach with their daughters, that’s for sure.  As much as I want the three men castrated, I also want the parents to be flogged in the public square for letting their daughters go out, un-chaperoned, on a night renowned for drunken licentiousness.


…which has lasted too long as it is (by about three years).


…not that I’ll ever watch either of these things, but in the reign of Emperor Kim, TV shows “based on (some) reality” will be forced to carry a “Mostly Bullshit” disclaimer.

And a funny:

Monday Funnies

Funny Stuff

Oh yay… the first Monday of 2021.  Elsewhere will be a short description of the little bits of bastardy directed at Yours Truly before the last midnight chimes of 2020, but for now, let us just contemplate the four years stretching before us.

Yeah, I know:  overstretch to compare the forthcoming Democrat-Socialist presidential term to the Nazi occupation of France in 1940-1944.  Let’s see how that turns out.

So to lighten the mood somewhat:

And:

And now, let’s hear it from the other side, the hippies and peaceniks:

One last flashback:

Now let’s get on with 2021… [sigh]

Simple View, Utter Beauty

Travels

At the moment, I’m reading Bill Bryson’s The Road To Little Dribbling, and as always I’m torn between helpless nostalgia and loud laughter — my general reaction to Bryson.  But the reading has pushed me into homesickness for Britishland, the feeling all the sharper because under current Chinkvirus restrictions, I can’t go back there and do all the things I love doing, such as driving through the countryside and marveling at the towns and villages as so memorably described by Bryson and embedded in my own memory from countless trips past.

I don’t often do this, but I thought I’d share with you the picture that’s currently my laptop’s wallpaper (right-click to embiggen to its original 1920×1200 size):

I don’t know if I’ve ever driven through this particular village, but I’ve driven through so many like it that it doesn’t matter.  Frankly, after a while they all become a blur, another “OMG that’s-so-beautiful-I-want-to-live-here” moment.

Of particular interest, nay even alarm to my Murkin readers would be the fact that despite the single tire-tracks in the road, it is in fact a two-way street which leads itself to moments of sheer panic should you encounter, for example, Bob The Plumber’s oversize Ford van coming the other way.  Such a situation requires either

  • pulling to the side (left) as close as possible to the walls / hedges and hoping that Bob will be able to get past without scraping the side of your (rental) car, or
  • driving on regardless while hoping that he will squeeze to the side leaving you enough room to get past without scraping the side of your (rental) car, or
  • pulling into a driveway — which action is inexplicably frowned upon by the householder
  • or else in the final resort, reversing back towards a “wider” portion of the road so that both you and Bob can pass by each other with a friendly wave from Bob at your patience and good manners.

When Mr. Free Market sets out for a destination outside his own village, he as often as not takes a completely different road each time, just to take in the exquisite countryside.  I once asked him if he’s ever got used to, or even bored with the countryside he drives through every day, and his answer was succinct:  “Never.  Not even close.”

I can see why.  Scenery such as the above plays a huge part in my laptop wallpaper selection — I don;t change it because I’m sick of it, only because I hanker after another scene.  Here, for your delectation, are a few others (ditto the embiggening):

(that’s a giant pic;  allow some time to load)

More, upon request, if like me you’re a fan of the English countryside.

Persuasive Argument

Drive Time

As everyone knows, I love me my old cars more than the  modern wind-tunnel designed mass-produced homogenized blobs we see on our roads today.  But there’s a problem:

Classic cars are wonderful, wonderful things. They look incredible, smell incredible, and make incredible noises. We will never see vehicles like them roll off production lines ever again.
And this is a good thing, because along with all the good stuff, they’re a massive pain in the arse.
They leak, they break down, they’re inefficient, and they’re not all that quick. You have to be committed to a classic. They need constant love and attention to make sure they run well. You can be their nurse, which requires lots of hardcore knowledge, or you can have a specialist to do it for you. And they’ll be grateful, as you’ll put their kids through college.

All true, and it’s the reason why (apart from the upfront cost) that I’ve never been that keen on getting one of the old cars that I love, e.g. a 1950s-era Jag Xk120:

I have also stated that I won’t drive an electric car.

However, it’s a fool who won’t change his mind when confronted with a different reality, and here’s the reason I could be persuaded to change my mind.  (Read this before continuing.)

I foresee great things for this.  It might be Lunaz’s climb towards Elon Musk-style wealth, or it could end up being a way for classic car manufacturers to get their foot into the EV market.

So allow me to alter my precious stance on electric cars.

Would I ever drive a Prius?  No.

Would I drive an electric, rebuilt Dino Ferrari?

I think we all know the answer to that one.  And if Ferrari were too slow to the party, then:

…or:

In Comments, list your top three favorite cars that you would drive as EVs, assuming they were affordable.