Month: March 2023

One Forward, Two Back

Drive Time

Loyal Readers will remember that I love the 1970s Ford Capri:

…so one would think that the news of Ford reissuing the lovely thing would have me panting.

Alas, no.

Rather than a petrol-guzzling coupe, it will be re-marketed as an electric sports crossover capable of reaching 0-to-62mph in around 6.4 seconds with zero emissions, a Ford staff member has revealed.

And I bet that the “new” Capri won’t look anything like its predecessor.  Instead, it will look like all the other modern wind-tunnel-shaped anonymities, so in fact the only thing common to the two models will be the name.

Pass, with prejudice.  Fucking morons.

Dry Well

Bad News

I warned y’all yesterday that there’s not much to write about these days — unless I’m to write about Britishland’s Royal Family and the price of fucking eggs Over Here.

Or maybe I’m just getting jaded, what with all the bullshit that’s been flying around recently.  Sheesh, it’s even difficult to find content for the one-liner News Roundup…

Here’s Uberti’s version of the Remington 1890 Police model, this one in the manly .44-40 chambering (although unlike the original, it’s available in other calibers):

More later, if anything pops up.  Don’t hold your breath.

One Way Or Another

Anti-Gun Nannies

Nothing makes me chuckle quite like this kind of idiocy:

Christopher Woolf Mapelli Mozzi was born in 2016 and is the son of Edoardo Mapelli Mozzi and American architect, Dara Huang. He was recently pictured with his father and step-mother, Princess Beatrice, at the Christmas Day service in Sandringham.

While very little is known about Wolfie, his mother recently expressed her gratitude for her son being educated in the UK, rather than in the US.

Writing on social media, the Florida-born architect said: “I’m glad my son doesn’t go to school in the USA. I can sleep at night knowing he won’t die at his desk tomorrow morning.”

She’s referring to the jillions of American kids killed each year in classroom shootings. [eyecross]

Leaving aside that untruth, here’s something that isn’t untrue:

etc.

Truth is that our precious princeling is FAR more likely to be stabbed to death in the UK than he is to be shot in the US — unless he happened to live in South Chicago, that is.

Ya Thank?

Business

As any fule kno, you need to have a lot of self-discipline to work unsupervised at a job, any job, with a high degree of productivity.  (Self-employment doesn’t count.)

Lotta fules out there:

In the aftermath of the collapse of Silicon Valley Bank (SVB), the 16th biggest bank in the country, many are left wondering what went wrong. Both current and former employees have stated that the bank’s support of remote work is a contributing factor.

Well, duh.  When even a wunderkind  like that Facebook twerp is thinking about ending laze-at-home and bringing the worker bees back into the hive, you have to know that the writing is on the wall.

Of all the bullshit ideas perpetrated on the public by the WuFlu panic, WFH was easily one of the worst.

One More Thing

Crime, Eco-Crap, Marxists, Third World

When I mentioned above that I’m sick of writing about politics, I should have mentioned that chief among these are articles describing how California has fucked up and how terrible things are going to be.

Yawn.

Even articles by brilliant writers (Jennifer Hernandez, Victor Davis Hanson, Heather Mac Donald etc.) get short shrift from me when the topic is Fucked-Up California.

We all know how the Golden Shower State is in thrall to Lefties, race hustlers, criminal apologists and other such filth.  We all know that California’s heading down the tubes to such a degree that The Big One is more likely to be a blessed relief than a catastrophe.  And we all know that Californian cities have become dystopian pits, drowning in shit, needles, crime and rampant homelessness, almost all of which can be ascribed to their insane laws and regulations.  It’s all going to crash and burn, and California will end up worse off than New Mexico, and become America’s Greatest African Paradise.

And I, for one, no longer care enough to write about it.