Killing The Monster

I see that singer Michael Bublé has decided to quit singing and the limelight.  I can quite understand why.  At a time when his beloved son was close to death from cancer, Bublé found himself in a blizzard of “well-meaning” Press attention, with articles sensitively entitled “Michael’s Torment“, “Michael Looks Depressed As He Leaves Hospital” and the always-popular “Will Michael Bublé Ever Be Able To Sing Again?”  (“No” being the eventual answer to this question, as it happens.)

Under those circumstances, Bublé discovered that while his fame sold albums and made him rich, the price he had to pay was the complete loss of privacy and even dignity.  For attention-whores like the Kardashians and their ilk, this celebrity and attention might have been accepted, even welcomed;  for him, facing that most awful and personal of tragedies, the scouring of his anguish and its parade in the tabloids must have been torture — and his desire to quit the spotlight both literally and figuratively is both understandable and even laudable.

And good for him, say I.  His wealth is secure, his family likewise;  but should his young son ever get nailed by cancer again — a horrible possibility — I can only hope that he and his wife can deal with whatever happens in solitude and isolation.  I don’t even want to hear about it, for that matter.  Whatever happens, Michael Bublé deserves his privacy, and I can only hope that the Media Vultures leave him alone from now on.

I for one will refuse to read anything about him and his family ever again.  I can’t escape the future headlines, should they occur, but I don’t have to reward the Jackals Of The Press by reading about the details.  He deserves the anonymity he craves, and I’m happy to grant it to him.

Michael, I wish lasting happiness, health and peace to you and your family;  and thank you for sharing your magnificent talent with us while you did.

Raging Back At The Enemy

As Longtime Readers know, I used to work in the Stat Research department of a Great Big Research Company, so I know a little about numbers.

Here’s the problem with statistics.  They’re a great tool for providing context — e.g. if unemploment now is at 3.7% and it was 7.2% during the reign of the sainted Obama, then things are better for the labor force now than they were then.  (Unless of course you’re a socialist, for whom a lower unemployment rate is disastrous because then they can’t make more people dependent on the State.)

In doing further (non-statistical) analysis, however, the problem then becomes less statistical and more historical.  Here’s an example.

Morris Fiorina of the Hoover Institution is doing his best Chip Diller / Animal House act (“Remain calm!  All is well!”) in looking at how the majority of the American populace is less political than the politically-active / -aware, thus:

To understand contemporary American political life, you should begin with the realization that most of the people blabbering on cable television, venting on Facebook, and/or fulminating on Twitter are abnormal. They are abnormally interested and involved in politics, they tend to occupy the policy extremes, and they are abnormally opinionated. As of today, there are about 235 million eligible voters in the United States. About one percent of them subscribe to either The New York Times or The Wall Street Journal. Liberals rail against Fox News and conservatives against MSNBC; they should take consolation in the fact that the Fox viewing audience is about one percent of the eligible electorate while news shows on MSNBC fall short of that.
Some suggest that the internet and social media have replaced the older print and electronic media, but the available research does not support that suggestion. If “hundreds of millions of people” really were doing politics on social media, I would share Hanson’s worries, but such a claim overstates the number of social media activists by several orders of magnitude. A 2013 Facebook study that tracked Bing toolbar searches found that 96 percent of the users clicked on zero or one opinion column in a three-month period. In 2017 the Pew Research Center reported that less than four percent of adults consider Twitter an important source of news.
In many respects the American electorate has changed surprisingly little in more than six decades. In 2016 about 10 percent of the eligible electorate made a campaign contribution—to any campaign at any level, the same figure as in the 1950s. Despite media hype about Obamamania in 2008 and Trump rallies in 2016, less than 10 percent of the eligible electorate attended any kind of campaign meeting or rally in those years, the same figure as six decades ago. As for people who knock on doors or make phone calls for campaigns, we are talking about two to three percent of the eligible electorate, the same small proportion as in the Eisenhower era.

And so on.  To be fair, Fiorina does allow that our polity has become more polarized (he calls it “sorted”) since the 1950s, but this is where history starts to stick its nose into statistical analysis.  If the Eisenhower era, for example, was not as polarized as today’s, then one shouldn’t look at the former as the comparator.  Rather, we should look at times when political and public opinion was polarized to get a proper perspective.  And you don’t have to be a dorky historian (such as I) to find two excellent examples of that.  Ladies and gentlemen, I give you 1776 and 1860 – and in both cases, what happened was war:  revolutionary in the first case and civil in the second.

The only argument to be made is whether today’s polity is as polarized as those were back then — and I would suggest that the correct answer is:  not quite yet.  But it’s damn close.

Let me finish this preamble by examining another of Fiorina’s theses:

Finally, some words about immigration, a major bone of contention between Republicans and Democrats in the political class, although surprisingly, less important than commonly believed among normal Americans. Although the U.S. is an immigrant nation, today’s emphasis on ethnic identity politics understandably leads many people to conclude that today’s immigration differs from that of previous eras, with more negative implications. But the kinds of controversies the United States now is experiencing are strikingly similar to those that accompanied earlier large waves of immigration. Hanson certainly is correct in asserting that political pressures to assimilate are much lower today, but societal pressures remain strong. The evidence indicates that despite the rhetoric of ethnic identity group activists and today’s celebration of diversity, the American melting pot continues to boil. Ongoing studies report, for example, that English language acquisition is proceeding at a rate comparable to, if not faster than, that in the early 20th Century; in particular, by the third generation Latinos are English-dominant or fully bilingual.

Here’s my major problem with this perspective.  In the early 20th century, immigrants came to America to find a predominantly (and fairly stubborn) Western-European / Protestant culture, so the incentive to assimilate and acculturate was strong.  In today’s society, with its multi-culti insistence and hatred of the eeeevil Western European ethos, there is no incentive to assimilate.  In fact, given the deliberate racial / ethnic / gender / cultural divisions caused by the Left, there is a negative incentive to do so because to assimilate is to wave goodbye to all the little financial and societal goodies given to members of all those little sub-groups by waves of Leftist / Progressive / neo-Socialist (and un-Constitutional, an argument for another time) government programs.  And sorry, under such circumstances we don’t have three generations to see if the melting pot will work.

To summarize:  all is not well — in fact, it’s as far from well as I can imagine — and to remain calm under such circumstances is not only counter-productive, it’s a formula for defeat.  Which brings me to my principal point.

“So Kim, what should we do?”

Be aggressive as hell, and fight back (to quote that Commie fucker Obama, “Punch back twice as hard”).

  • If you come out of a restaurant and find your car has been keyed because of your NRA decal, consider finding two cars with liberal decals (e.g. “Beto” (Texas) or “Resist!”), but don’t key the shit out of them:  a simple splodge of black spray paint over the decal will suffice.
  • If some Pantifa fuckwits threaten you with weapons at a protest  / counter-protest event, be ready to pepper-spray or kick the shit out of them — do not be afraid to confront these cocksuckers.  And if they escalate the violence… it will be their problem.
  • If some baying liberals start screaming at you outside a restaurant, why not call the cops on them?  Insist on laying charges of intimidation, public indecency, assault and hate crimes (yeah, let’s use the Left’s little weapons against them).  And if the cops refuse to do anything, file suit against them.
  • If Socialist professors call you out in class publicly for being a conservative or Republican, feel free to tell them that you intend bring civil charges (not university-based, but legal ones) against them personally for creating a “hostile study environment” (see above).
  • If some feminist harpy accuses you of “rape” (regardless of definition), be sure to have filmed a little video of your encounter;  then find a way to publish said video on the Internet as a counterweight to her accusations.  Failing which, make sure you are never alone with a woman (see:  the Pence Rule);  or be sure to have witnesses who can be relied upon to take your side.
  • If you’re asked to speak at a college campus and the Left starts going batshit and threatening you, say nothing;  but consider quietly asking for some volunteer pro bono bodyguards to protect you  — about two dozen should do it.  (And if you’re asked to be one of those bodyguards, accept the gig.  Wear a dark suit, white shirt, sturdy black shoes and a conservative tie, put an earpiece into your ear and talk into your cuff frequently.  Also:  equip yourself appropriately.)
  • Always — always — insist on speaking, and being spoken to in English, regardless of circumstance.  If the other guy continues to scream at you in Spanish, respond with random Spanish expressions such as “Tierra del Fuego!” or my favorite, “Huevos y putas!”.  If being yelled at in Ebonics, simply say, “I’m sorry, but I don’t speak Zulu”.
  • Feel free to add your own suggestions in Comments.

If all this sounds extreme, then let you remind me of the simple irrefutable truth of this situation:  we didn’t start the extremism;  the Left did.  They are very fond of using the old Marxist trope of “Reactionary!” against us, but the problem is that we haven’t reacted enough, or at all, in the face of their criminal and confrontational behavior.  (Note that I am not suggesting pre-emptive or “strike first” action.  But it’s sure as hell time for us to bring a little reaction to the party.)  And yes, some of what I’m suggesting might be considered illegal.  Compared to what the Left have done against us, it’s nothing — and compare spraying someone’s car to tarring and feathering a British magistrate, back in 1776.

It’s time some of the Left’s little pigeons came home to roost — or else we’re forever doomed to be browbeaten, belittled, intimidated and ultimately beaten down by these power-hungry, amoral cocksuckers.

No more.

Yes, I’m aware I might get into trouble for this post.  To those who might attempt to initiate some kind of violent action against me, I have a simple response:  FOAD.  Someone has to take a stand, and it might as well be this immigrant and naturalized citizen.  And please:  don’t bother with death threats, for obvious reasons.

Actually, No

From some SJW / Millennial ingenue named Hannah Yasharoff:

National Lampoon’s raunchy frat house comedy “Animal House,” which celebrates its 40th anniversary Saturday, is widely regarded as an all-time great movie.  But four decades later, it feels less like a comedy classic and more like a toxic showcase of racism, homophobia and jokes about sexual assault.

As the title of this post suggests, Animal House actually feels more and more (not less) like a comedy classic precisely because it does make fun of racism and jokes about sexual assault*.  (Remember that Dean Wormer’s the mayor’s 13-year-old daughter is the one who comes to the toga party and gets pass-out drunk — and then much later, only after she finally has sex with Larry Kroger, does she shockingly admit her true age.  That’s what was so goddamn funny, you pearl-clutching asswipe.)

Animal House aimed at so many sacred cows it’s difficult to know where to start.  Now that the Left has created its own sacred cows, however, they’ve decreed somehow that while it’s perfectly okay to make fun of (say) religion or patriotism, heaven forbid that anyone make fun of (say) transgenderism (despite the latter’s self-identified social deviancy).

And duh!  National Lampoon’s entire raison d’être was toxic comedy in that they skewered and made fun of everything.  (The word “lampoon” right up there in the title should be sufficient warning, but clearly our SJW children’s liberal education never got that far in the lexicon.)

Good grief.  I need a gin & tonic.  Oh wait:  my love of booze would make me future SCOTUS Judge Brett Kavanaugh’s spiritual [sic] sidekick.

Excellent.


*I don’t recall any homophobic jokes in Animal House, but I could be wrong.

News Roundup

1) Candy bars lose sugar, also taste — FFS, if you think a candy bar is unhealthy or bad for you, then eat something else.  Don’t moan and complain until the manufacturer brings out a watery, tasteless variant of the classic. (see:  lite beer)

2) Man fucks with black mamba, with predictable results — there is a good reason why snake handlers in South Africa cannot get life insurance, no matter how much they’re prepared to pay.

3) Cold weather causes vag-freeze — as we’re heading into winter, you may want to get yer Missus a box-warmer (don’t ask).

4) Freaks and pervos hit the streets — where else but in San Francisco?  (Never an errant daisycutter bomb when you need one.)

5) Italy to become the “new Argentina” — as long as they don’t invade the Falklands, we’re cool.

6)  Tropical Storm Rosa will not wash the entire state of California out to sea — and a nation mourns.

Shocker

According to figures obtained by London, England’s Sunday Times, an overwhelming 120 of the 134 complaints of sexual attacks at facilities lodged in the island nation between 2017 and 2018 related to incidents taking place in unisex changing rooms.

Like nobody saw that coming…

Slobbery

I’m not talking about your mouth when the smell of steaks grilling over the fire hits your nostrils.  Nor am I talking about Harvey Weinstein’s reaction to seeing a fresh young actress who wants a part in a movie.

Nope, I’m back to my old gripe about people who dress like slobs.  Theodore Dalrymple takes up the cause:

Indeed, if there is one thing that unites mankind today it is casual slobbery in dress.
This is rather odd, considering that so many people seem to spend a lot of their spare time shopping for clothes. The fact is, though, that however much time they spend on shopping, they will always look just as much a mess as ever. They choose, but they do not discriminate.
Our unwillingness, and increasing inability, to dress elegantly represents the triumph of self-esteem over self-respect. We dress to please ourselves, not others, and not looking like a slob takes effort, especially keeping it up through the day. Convenience is all, and it is easier to throw on a few casual clothes than to dress well.

What sparked Dalrymple’s ire was his experience at a couple of airports:

Sitting in two airports last week, in Paris and Riga, it suddenly occurred to me that I had not seen a single person who was smartly, let alone elegantly, dressed.

Now I seldom disagree with Teddy about much, but I do on this occasion.  Imagine this scenario:

You get dressed to go to an important business meeting, so you do it properly:  ironed shirt, tie, decent navy-blue suit, leather belt and shiny black lace-up Oxfords.  You check yourself in a mirror and damn, you look good.

But did I mention that the important business meeting was out of town, and you’d need to catch a flight there?

Now go back and reflect how difficult it’s going to be when you’re confronted by the surly TSA apparatchiks at the airport.  Belt? Take it off.  Shoes? Unlace them, and take ’em off.  Jacket? Run it through the X-ray.  And that gold tie-clip?  We’re going to pat you down and run you through our Magical Cancer-Generating Full-Body Scanner, bub.

All of a sudden, a tee shirt, sweatpants and slip-on moccasins make a lot more sense, don’t they?  And the net result is that you look like a slob, because it’s a big enough chore to dress properly in the first place without having to do it all over again at the airport in front of hundreds of people.

However, while I may make a (grudging) allowance for looking like a slob under the above circumstances, the next scenario is absolutely unforgivable.

You’e married to one of the most beautiful women in the world — an actress, as it happens — and you have to attend a promotional red carpet event with her, to hype up her latest movie.  So you both get dressed and let the limo sweep you off to this important event.

Your wife, of course, looks sensational:

You?  Not so much:

It’s even worse when you look at the pair of them together (and small wonder she’s not looking at him, I imagine, out of pure embarrassment):

This is “dressing up”?  A shabby cardigan, an untucked golf shirt, too-short casual trousers, socklets and sneakers?  Are you fucking kidding me?  

What bemuses me (and I’ve had this thought before) is why Anne Hathaway didn’t take one look at this slob and tell him either to change into a tux or stay the fuck at home.

I don’t care how “fashionable” this little fart thinks he is, or how important he may be in the business, or any of that crap:  there is no excuse for this.

What this is, folks, is a total lack of respect;  for the event, for the occasion, but most of all, towards his wife.  In the old days, he would have been horsewhipped for looking like this outside the home — which is one of the many reasons I hanker for the old days.

Now:  where did I put that sjambok?