The usual bleg:
…my response:
Fuck You
…and the reason (one of many):
They lost me long ago.
Tag: Evil Bastards
Aarfy IRL – AGAIN
I cannot count the number of timers I’ve written about this scenario:
One of my favorite-ever literary passages is in Joseph Heller’s Catch-22, when Yossarian walks into a bedroom to discover that his lunatic navigator Aarfy has just murdered a prostitute by throwing her out the window. While he’s remonstrating with Aarfy, the military police burst into the room — and arrest Yossarian for being AWOL.
The same thing has happened time and time again*. And here’s yet another one to make your blood boil (as it did mine):
British police were called to a house after a neighbor heard screams. They found a young girl naked & drunk with 7 Pakistani men.
They arrested the girl for being drunk & convicted her. They reportedly didn’t even question the men.
Every single one of those cops should be taken to a windowless cell, tied to a chair and beaten with chains. Followed by the same treatment for those seven asshole Pakis**.
This should also be seen in its larger context. (Warning: it’s really hard to read without an extreme RCOB*** occurring.
*Here. here and here are just three examples where I’ve written about this foul nonsense.
**I know very well that the term “Pakis” is offensive. When it comes to these pedophiles, however, no descriptor is offensive enough. Fuck ’em.
***Red Curtain Of Blood, which comes over your eyes when discovering massive bastardy and injustice.
DOGE Target #1
ATF Isn’t Talking About its Early Morning No-Knock Raid on a Baltimore Gun Rights Advocate
Manley estimated he owns more than 70 firearms, but all of them comply with Maryland and federal laws. He owns no full-autos, suppressors or destructive devices. The ATF learned this after threatening to blow open Manley’s gun safe, which he opened for the agents, who found nothing illegal.
After the botched search warrant, one of the agents who had told Manley’s wife he was the lead investigator, asked her for dimensions and other information about the doors and windows his team had destroyed, which he promised to replace.
Also:
ATF Murders Innocent Man
In March, agents shot and killed Bryan Malinowski, executive director of the Clinton National Airport in Little Rock, Arkansas, in his home.
Agents were clearly spoiling for a gunfight when they went in during early morning hours, and they got one.
ATF has yet to comment officially on the March 19 killing, other to claim Malinowski fired first. But Malinowski’s family released a statement, which confirms what everyone already knew: It is extremely unlikely that the 53-year-old airport executive director knew he was trading gunfire with federal agents. It is far more likely Malinowski believed he was defending himself and his wife from armed home invaders.
This entire agency needs to be defunded and all their asshole agents fired and then prosecuted for all the crimes they committed against law-abiding citizens — both the people who authorized the crimes and the people who carried them out, no exceptions.
Period, end of statement, end of story.
Enough With The Bananas
Over at Intellectual Takeout, John Horvat talks about bananas on walls:
My reasoning centers on a recent event in New York City in which the renowned Sotheby’s auction house sold a 2019 art piece dubbed “Comedian” by Maurizio Cattelan. The work consisted of a fresh banana duct-taped to the wall.
The bidding started at $800,000, and within five minutes, the item sold for $5.2 million plus auction house fees, which came to a total of $6.2 million. The new owner is Chinese-born crypto-businessman Justin Sun.
The actual banana cost thirty-five cents when bought in the morning at an Upper East Side fruit stand. The new owner will get a certificate of authenticity and installation instructions should he want to replace the banana before it rots. Mr. Sun has already announced that he will eat the original banana “as part of this unique artistic experience, honoring its place in both art history and popular culture.”
Commenting after the sale, Billy Cox, a Miami art dealer with his own copy of “Comedian,” says the work is something of historical importance that comes only “once or twice a century.”
Uh huh. Like the paint-splattered “art” of Jackson Pollock, to describe this as “art” at all, let alone something of “historical importance”, is to underline the folly of the so-called cultural elites and their absurd mania for post-modernist deconstructivism.
We are living in a society where certain liberal sectors inhabit an alternative reality where thirty-five-cent bananas are handled as multimillion-dollar works of art. The problem is that they want to force everyone else in society to believe their madness.
“Pull the other one” would be the obvious rejoinder. But Horvat takes it further:
The first are those who do not want to see the absurdity of the banana on the wall and dogmatize that it is art. They create their own reality and impose it on the nation.
The second group consists of those tired of being told a banana taped to the wall is art. They long to live in a world where art is art and bananas are bananas.
In the [2024] election, some of the latter group said, “Enough is enough.”
This reaction was not against a single banana on one wall.
You see, there is [also] the banana that claims a man is a woman and a woman is a man. Other bananas claim that people can choose their pronouns, pornography in libraries is literature, or that it is just fine for men to compete with women in sports. We are told drag queen story hours are suitable for children, after-school Satan Clubs are educational and it is not a human baby but a clump of cells.
It is all part of a vast banana extravaganza that we are asked to admire and make believe is the blueprint for a dream society.
Quite right. There’s only one thing to do when faced with these bananas:
yup. Dip them in boiling oil.
Degradation
When I first moved to the U.S. back in the mid-80s, I was impressed by how well things worked. I mean, you have to understand that all around the world — such as in Third World countries like Zimbabwe, India and Italy — things often just do not work as one would expect them to. Whether it’s because they are badly made, or badly assembled, or just operated by fucking idiots (try doing a relatively simple thing like booking a flight out of Rome’s Leonardo Da Vinci airport — which isn’t even in Rome but miles and miles out on the coast, a story for another time) and you’ll soon see that not much works as originally intended.
I am also familiar with concepts such as planned obsolescence, where corporations deliberately design products that will eventually fail or fall to pieces so that you will be forced into buying a new one as a replacement.
But there’s another factor in stuff not working, and this is the one which really, really sets my teeth on edge, and it’s embodied by an appliance which is common in households all over the U.S.: the dish washing machine, or dishwasher.
When I first came over, I fell in live with the dishwasher, because I had never owned one. Most families in South Africa didn’t, either because they had Black servants to hand wash the dishes, or they were too poor to afford such expensive (and they were expensive) machines.
But these GE/Frigidaire/Whirlpool dishwashers? Oh man, there were great. You piled your dishes in, coated with caked-on gravy or food particles or whatever, added a little detergent, and switched the thing on. All sorts of magic would happen behind the closed door, and when the thing stopped running, you waited about ten minutes and then opened the door, and there were your dishes: clean, dry and warm (maybe even still hot) to the touch.
And that was it.
Sadly, that is no longer the case.
Now, you have to pretty much hand wash the dishes first, or at least rinse them into near-cleanliness before loading them into the dishwasher, then do the same stuff as above and then, when the buzzer sounds or a light goes on, you open the door to find that your dishes are not completely clean, still wet or at best damp, and in fact, many times you will have to rinse them off and do the whole fucking thing all over again — with no guarantee that the outcome will be any different.
And why is this?
Because the dirty fingers of government have been stuck into the operation. Thanks to an excess of Green zealotry, dishwashers can’t use as much water as they used to so the spray can’t be as fierce (and effective), and the heating element has been turned from its furnace-like operation into something that wouldn’t keep you warm on a cool autumn day if you gripped it in your fist.
Our dishwashers, in short, have been turned from appliances that once worked perfectly at their intended function into flabby little things that are the equivalent of convict labor: surly, unproductive and unreliable.
There’s no point in complaining about this because Green Worship has become so ingrained in our culture that anyone daring to rail against the Great God EnergySmart (blessings be upon its name) might well face severe sanction and even penalties.
Such as happened to my friend Patterson when he rewired his 2015-model dishwasher to 1980 specs and made it work properly. Me, I’m too stupid to do something like that, and too old to want to kick against the pricks in that manner.
So my private little rebellion against this nonsense is that I just wash my dishes again and again until they are as clean as I want them to be. (I do the same with my low-flow-low-use low-efficiency toilet, which requires two and sometimes three flushes to take care of the old #2 bowel movement discharge, and has been know to rise to five, after a particularly stupendous roast beef dinner.)
Or I power-rinse my dishes with steaming-hot water before loading them, using twice as much electricity (via the water heater) as I would have used to run the dishwasher if it was working properly.
End result: I use twice or three times as much water and much more electricity to wash my dishes as I would have in 1986.
And all this just so I can have clean dishes to put away in the cupboard. Or else I do my part for the environment by using paper plates which don’t need washing and just end up in the landfill.
I know this sounds like a really pointless and futile gesture, doesn’t it? But it’s far less ummm radical than, say, were I to assassinate the CEO of Whirlpool or the politicians responsible for turning once-efficient U.S. products into pathetic Third World failures.
Isn’t it?
At Long Last
…we’ve got rid of that asshole Jimmy Carter. I know, I know, one shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but the hell with that: I never said anything good about the sanctimonious, vapid Carter when he was still alive, and I see no reason to stop now that he’s croaked his last.
The only reason he won the 1976 election was because of the post-Watergate blues, and the minute he came up against a serious candidate (Ronald Reagan) he had his ass handed to him.
And his presidency was a total and utter disaster — only recently surpassed in its muddled neo-socialism by that of soon-to-be-ex-President FuckJoeBiden.
Good riddance, and I hope we never see his like again — although with the Democrats, I fear that this hope will be forlorn because there’s no telling who they’ll come up with next. (H’Angus The Monkey, no doubt, who come to think of it would have been a better President than FJB or Carter.)