I see that Gurgle’s evil technocracy has blocked a few conservative outlets, but somehow missed blocking Splendid Isolation :
My few thousand daily Readers are doubtless not worth their attention. So capitalizing on their omission, here’s a pic of a gun:
That’s a Knights SR25 in the manly 7.62mm NATO (7.62x51mm), and it’s at Collectors.
May as well take advantage while I can.
Nobody needs an assault rifle, right? Well, somebody did:
An Afghan girl has shot dead two Taliban fighters and wounded several more after they dragged her parents from their home and killed them for supporting the government.
Insurgents in the central province of Ghor stormed the home of teenager Qamar Gul last week looking for her father, the village chief, before shooting her parents.
Gul then emerged from the house with her family’s AK-47 and opened fire, killing the two Taliban fighters who gunned down her mother and father and injuring several others.
Here’s the thing: as lawlessness increases and mob rule overwhelms policing, the greater the need for ordinary citizens to be armed against the mob. We saw it in St. Louis with those two liberal lawyers protecting their home, and now we have another, more tragic example of the need for self-defense.
I know, I know: what happened in Afghanistan could never happen here, right? Then someone explain to my why “doxing” someone (publishing their personal details like their residential address) isn’t such a threat in this country. We’ve already had examples of a howling mob appearing outside conservatives’ homes; now add a little mob hysteria and some weaponry — a Molotov cocktail, perhaps, or a gun — and it’s easy to see how tragedy could so easily take place.
Always be prepared, in every sense of the word. Even though he had a gun, the Afghan chief wasn’t mentally prepared for the day when the mob descended on his home, and died as a result. That his teenage daughter had to respond just adds to the tragedy.
“[E]galitarianism inevitably flips the natural order on its head, elevating the bottom over all else. The ideological enforcers in the human resource department are no different from the ideological enforcers in communism. These people are not selected for their skill, but their stupidity. They are too stupid to contemplate what they are doing. Instead, they puff out their chests and stiffen their backs for having memorized the latest party fads.”
Next time you have any dealings with some self-important H.R. flunky, feel free to use the parts of the above which are appropriate, because it’s absolutely true. Totalitarianism doesn’t run on evil, but on the stupidity of its apparatchiks.
Back when I worked for the Great Big Research Company in Johannesburg, I had a boss who had the unnerving habit of doing random checks on my calculations. (I should point out for my Readers who were born after we discovered the wheel that computations were done not with slide rules but with the newfangled invention called a “calculator” — which could do only the basic math functions of addition, subtraction, multiplication and division — and the literally thousands of numbers were taken off pages and pages of computer printouts from a thing called a “mainframe”.)
Anyway, if the Poison Dwarf (as we not-so-jokingly called him) discovered a single mistake, he would tear it all up and make me redo the entire job, with the rationale that “If I can’t trust one thing, I can’t trust anything.” The result, after only a couple of these episodes, was that I not only took an inordinate amount of time in performing the calculations, but spent almost as much time rechecking everything to make sure that absolutely every statistic or number I presented to my clients was 100% correct, and they could take the actions I recommended with complete confidence in the strength of the data.
The time spent in doing all this was based on another of the Poison Dwarf’s aphorisms: “There’s never enough time to do the job properly, but there always seems to be enough time to do things over.” Well, I never had enough time to do things over — I had client meeting deadlines — so I had to get it right the first time, regardless of the time taken.
That habit persisted with me for the rest of my working career.
I say all this so everyone will know exactly where I stand on bullshit like this (with emphasis added):
A young Florida resident who died in a motorcycle accident is included in the state’s official COVID-19 death count, a state official reveals.
FOX 35 News in Orlando discovered this after asking Orange County Health Officer Dr. Raul Pino about two young COVID-19 patients in their twenties who died, and whether they had any preexisting conditions that contributed to their deaths.
“The first one didn’t have any. He died in a motorcycle accident,” Pino said. Despite this shocking answer, Pino was not aware of this person’s data being removed from the state tally when asked.
“I don’t think so. I have to double-check,” Pino answered. “We were arguing, discussing, or trying to argue with the state. Not because of the numbers — it’s 100… it doesn’t make any difference if it’s 99 — but the fact that the individual didn’t die from COVID-19… died in the crash.”
You stupid fucking quack. It’s not whether it makes a difference between 99 and 100 — it’s how many more mistakes of this kind have occurred in your compilation of the data.
Remember the Poison Dwarf: “If I can’t trust one thing, I can’t trust anything.”
So if one death (1%, in this case) was incorrectly attributed to the Chinkvirus, how many more cases are incorrect? 10%? 20%? 90%? We don’t know, because the numbers were obviously not checked after being submitted.
Here’s something from Powerline which makes the same case quite succinctly:
Funny, but not so funny.
Here’s the thing. A lot of decisions, very weighty and momentous decisions, are being made based on the data our much-vaunted medical establishment is presenting. States’ economies are being damaged or destroyed, people’s livelihoods ditto, and I’m not even going to start to estimate the social cost of foolish governmental decisions taken on the basis of what may turn out to be fatally-flawed data.
So I’m going to mimic the Poison Dwarf (for the first time ever): I’m not going to trust a single fucking piece of data these assholes present to us, ever again. As far as I’m concerned, it’s all lies and bullshit, and I don’t trust any of them.
From a couple of my Longtime Brit Friends, concerning the ultra-woke F1 driver Lewis Hamilton:
My, my…
Afterthought: I can name all but the kid in the Rothmans kit. Anyone have an idea?
Both New Wife and I had to deal with this kind of shit before in South Africa. Every time we insisted on punctuality, we were told to observe “Africa Time”, which makes “mañana” or “domani” look positively hidebound. Appointment times are simply guidelines, and meeting times wild approximations, but always, always on the late side. (I’ve always suggested that if these pricks really want to go onto Africa Time, then their salaries can be paid anytime their employer feels like it, ditto welfare payments, and visits to the ER at a hospital would involve a six- to eight-hour wait, regardless of emergency. Also, bus service would be sporadic, and stores can be opened and closed whenever the proprietors feel like it.)
Here’s what I’m talking about, in part:
The National African American History Museum suggests being on time, self-reliance, avoidance of conflict and intimacy, and rugged individualism are markers of “whiteness.”
So I guess that “non-whiteness (actually, Black)” markers would be: extreme tardiness, dependence on others (especially government), conflict-seeking and herd behavior. (I’m not going to touch “intimacy”, although I would suggest that judging from the unwed motherhood statistics among Blacks, they probably need to avoid it a lot more.)
Sorry, but I’m afraid all that’s not American, but African — and we are not Africa.
Of course, these Marxist fuckers want to turn us into Africa (and they already have, in places like Minneapolis), but that’s just not gonna happen.
All this nonsense is just so wrong, I can barely begin to refute it.
I can’t wait for November.