Friday, February 22, 2019

Darwin 1, Species 0

h/t Irons In The Fire

One Down, Only 39,999,999 To Go

h/t 90 Miles From Tyranny


Another fine (Mexican, to a 99.999% certainty) export product, doing what they do.

Note with delight the literal grace under fire, and the following permanent deportation, this week, of three-time prior deportee Javier Hernandez Morales, in this case by Napa Valley County Sheriff's Deputy Riley Jarecki, after the protagonist tried to shoot her with a .22, and in short order, became the object of a 15-round mag dump to the torso, which successfully subdued his miscreance, permanently.

His final  "Aaaayyyyyy!" is clearly audible and intensely satisfying, howbeit all too brief, as the deputy successfully drains all the fight out of him when he tries to start his car and flee the scene of his murder attempt.

One Golden State Marksmanship Award, First Class, to Deputy Jarecki, and a heartfelt "Good Riddance!" to the murderous refuse with fatally poor situational awareness she has successfully deported forever. He represents 10,000 more crimes he'll never commit, 80 more elections he'll never vote in, and half a dozen anchor baby welfare brats he'll never sire, and all solved for less than $7 of duty ammunition, and a plastic garbage bag funeral in Potter's Field. If the family (in Mexico) wants the body shipped home, trebuchet at the closest Port Of Entry should be the officially selected method. (There may be a lesson or three in there somewhere.)

Would that they might show this video in Mexico, endlessly, as a reason to stop coming here, to 80M of Javier's primos.

"National Emergency" indeed, and here, the consequences, a mere 500 miles from the actual border.

It's a pity "Shoot On Sight" and "Dead Or Alive" posters have gone all out of vogue.

Reminder: Javier didn't just wake up that day and decide to carry an illegally-obtained weapon, illegally concealed, and attempt to murder a cop doing a traffic stop on a whim: he's been a criminal for years, if not his entire adult life.
They're all criminal illegal aliens. Some, more so than others.

Nice shootin', Deputy.

Thursday, February 21, 2019

RIP: Peter Tork


















Peter Tork, 77, bassist and keyboards for the Monkees, died yesterday of cancer.

Derided unfairly as the Pre-Fab Four, the Monkees nonetheless out-toured and outsold the Beatles at the height of their powers. With characteristic common sense and gentleness, Peter's comment on the group rings through the ages:

"There must have been something to us. We sure sold a lot of records."
Indeed they did. It's time for the prissy prigs to end the travesty, and put the group in the Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame, where they belong, and while surviving band members Mickey Dolenz and Mike Nesmith are still alive to rake in the long-overdue honor.

Enjoy Peter, getting the girl for once.

You're All California Now

























Over at WRSA, Conservative Cat Lady's Trump Derangement Syndrome is in full swing in Comments. Menopause is playing hell on Ann.

Go read if you like. Just probably best not after a meal.

But I see the point.

I mean, it isn't like anybody knew that the president signs spending bills, he doesn't pass them.

Total number of spending bills passed by POTUS 1787-yesterday: 0.
Total number he'll pass in the next 240 years: 0

Geez, it's almost like there was some sort of separation of powers under the Constitution, and the Speaker of the House and Congress had some wee responsibility, along with the Senate, for passing the bills the President gets to sign (or veto).

Wait, what???

There is such a thing?!?!?

You could look it up.
(And of course, Trump is to blame for them writing it that way in 1787. No doubt whatsoever.)

So keep BMWing about Trump, and covering for Quisling Ryan and Bitch McConjob doing nothing for two freaking years, because they knew THIS president would actually build a freaking wall, and their CoC contributions for cheap foreign labor would dry up.

O, if only there were a sharp-tongued Conservative Cat Lady harpy-pundit somewhere, who'd actually been to law school, and clerked for the federal appellate court, and had some bare inkling that this was the way things worked in a constitutional republic!

How tragic that we have no such person.

Clearly, this is 100% Trump's fault. 
Shrillary would have done a much better job.

And Yertle and Quisling wouldn’t have given her everything she asked for, on a platter, with an apple in its mouth.

Nosiree.

You’re a political genius, Ann.

Keep voting in Democrats to Congress in droves too, and then bitch because Superdaddy didn’t fill your Christmas stocking with anything but a lump of shit. 435 districts and 20 cabinet-level agencies stabbing the president’s agenda in the back 24/7/365 is all just an enormous coincidence too.

We squeaked Cheeto Hitler into office by a red hair, and he didn’t fix everything forever overnight! Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!

Hey, KY, thanks for Yertle over and over.
AZ, Senator-For-Life Braintumor McCrazy sure paid dividends on cancelling Obozocare, didn’t he?
FL, thank heavens for Marco ScrewYouBio and his shadow Amnesty plans, and shitting on gun owners on national TV!
And thanks WI, for Quisling Ryan, who quit after doing nothing for 2 whole years, and lost the entire House the first time out! That should come in handy for the next 6 years, huh?
And all those illegals Lindsay Grahamnesty couldn’t see in CA for 20 years are sure coming in handy in Democrat-For-Decades Califrutopia. Thanks a pantload! For payback, we’ve sent you Speaker Alzheimers, Fineswine and the endless AWBs, and now Senator Kneepads. You’re welcome!!

This isn't because of Boomers, X-ers, Millenials, or any other such codswallop.
We're paying for public education, and the fact that 90% of everyone since 1955 is in the Captain Kangaroo/Mister Rogers/Sesame Street Generation, where thinking is too hard, and Uncle Daddy should give me everything, whether that's ObamaPhones and Obozocare, or a Wall.

Shocker for you grade-free low-information Pass-Fail students: it doesn't work like that, and never has.

Your chickens?
Coming home to roost, boys and girls.
It’s a big shit sandwich, and you’re all going to take a huge bite.
Chew it up and swallow, or choke on it.
You made your own beds; now you can lay in them.

I swear to Buddha, you anti-Trump princesses are airheads like Amydala, shitting on the Chancellor, and paving the way for Emperor Palpatine, and then suddenly aghast when you see the Death Star swinging into position overhead.

You're all California now.

"Juliet" Smollett Headed For Joliet

h/t Borepatch


We saw the story break last night, but today's video is better than a mere news excerpt.

FakeNoose media ABCNNBCBS, the same ones who fell for the lies about the Covington kids, and Kavanaugh, and...and...and...and...ad infinitum wonders "How do we keep falling for this obvious bullsh*t Every.Single.Time?" Let me help them with that. All part of the service.

Dear Media,

You fall for obvious hoaxes like this because you're SJW morons who couldn't find two brain cells nationwide, between the lot of you. Any credibility you ever had is flushed down the sh*tter and lost forever, and you rank below Congress and used car salesmen for reliability with the public. That's why you're going bankrupt, being laid off in droves, and replaced by thousands of sites like this one: because we pass on information, and you pass on disinformation.
Do Svidaniya, comrades. You're over. - Aesop
Meanwhile Jussie, er, Juliet Smollett, is about to get fitted for a new girlfriend named Bubba, and a rectum about nine sizes looser, which should tickle his little pink heart (perhaps literally), and his C-list TV career is O.V.E.R.  
Lesson #10,069 in why Virtue Signalling never goes the way you think it should.

Bonus: the next ten times someone actually throws a noose around a gay black actor and tells him "This is MAGA Country", it's free, because that never happens in reality.
(Don Lemon, call your office.)
And it still won't, but even if it did, the imaginary victims will have a hill of doubt and suspicion twice as high to get over.

Just like the fraction of reported rape victims* who're actually telling the truth, because of all the Tawana Brawleys and Duke U. party hookers out there looking for a payday.

Nice move, jackhole. You've gone from lightning rod of fake hate, to one of actual hate, in only one b.s. story. You should've never passed up a good opportunity to STFU. So long, douche, and enjoy your next adventures.




*{FTR, the perpetrators of actual rapes should be horsewhipped. To death.
So should every woman who reports a fake one. Fair is fair.
If you're against the death penalty on principle, I'd settle for branding "RAPIST" or "RAPE LIAR", respectively, on their foreheads. Pour encourager les autres.}

Monday, February 18, 2019

From The Ministry Of Obviousness



Look, lets's be fair:

It's wrong to put a noose around a black man's neck, and since it's now obvious to everyone including Stevie Wonder who did this to Jussie Smollett, it's high time the Cook County D.A. and the Chicongo PD takes this seriously, and arrests the man responsible:

Jussie Smollett.

Get the smug little bastard indicted, arrest him, and prosecute him to the fullest extent of the law, not for filing a false report, but for lynching a black man.

And when he's convicted of the crime in about an hour, throw the book at him.

That gives him what he deserves, while sending the right message about racial crimes.

He's already the Tawana Brawley of the 21st century, and a C-list Affirmative Action diversity bean hire actor on his best day (being associated with North isn't something even Rob Reiner puts on his resume), so maybe it's time he was leading drama classes at Joliet, in D block.

He should probably change his name to Juliet. He's going to be very popular.

Sunday, February 17, 2019

Sunday Music: Suite Judy Blue Eyes

Enjoy.

Times two.
Like Fleetwood Mac, these three are orders of magnitude greater than the sum of their individual parts.
Original studio version:


And I'm rarely a fan of live performances, but this extended one from decades after the original version pays it off.
Stephen Stills crushes his solo at 4:44.

 
I started this because from time to time, the Universal jukebox, YouTube, would scratch an itch for a given piece of music. (Which is an internet blackhole worth the trouble.)  And with anything that's free, you're the product, and the ones I liked, I hit the "Like" button, and lo and behold, by the power of algorithms, I suddenly have my own mix generated based on my rather eclectic tastes.
 
Guardians Of The Galaxy mix, eat your heart out.

Saturday, February 16, 2019

Rumblings Of A Distant Thunder...
















So after the all the build-up, President Trump's going to have his cake and eat it too:
Apparently he'll sign the Porculus Omnibus bill, flaws and all, and turn around and declare an emergency, and tap Pentagon spending for national security to build the Great Big Beautiful Wall, gambling that at the end of the day, the courts rule in his favor, and he builds the wall.

And no, this isn't "Unprecedeted!", for the @$$holes at ABCNNBCBS.


Pelosi and Schumer can't very well repudiate their own bill, nor can anyone in Congress whine, after two different congresses had multiple chances to do the right thing, that they weren't consulted, and  serially couldn't get things done on both the wall and immigration reform, and never failed to fail.

The odds are good Trump's case will prevail in court, and he'll build the wall. Whether that'll be enough, and soon enough, to save him in 2020 is an open question.

If he doesn't start shoveling illegals back over it, the template for election-stealing has already been field-tested, and a wall alone will be too little too late. The poison pills in the border security bill may still lose enough of his base to flip an election outright, or the wall may make enough short-term difference to flip the Congress again, and get him one more amenable than Quisling Ryan's bunch of do-nothing GOP Chamber of Commerce illegal alien lovers did to turn things around for awhile.

Time will tell.

If he loses in court, or fails to win re-election, or it's all been for nothing (anyone of which is an open question going forward), this was the high-water mark of a potential lame duck presidency.

The number of people who've gone belly-up underestimating this president since 2015 is legion, so I wouldn't bet against him, but I'd cover my bets.

The Democrats are beyond argument the anti-white and anti-America party, (like there was ever any doubt), and there's no limit to their madness, as recent days have demonstrated times beyond counting.
The GOP half of the Uniparty is mainly just for the same thing, but slower, with less gusto and a wee bit more subtlety.
























We're not Eurostan - yet - but that's the destination intent, and things here aren't going to fizzle, they're going to fester, short of miracles.
I would not base any planning on the expectation of miracles.

Either way, win or lose in 2020, your respite is going to end. You have either until 1/21/2021, or 1/21/2025, to have your situation well enough in hand for what's still coming. The Under on that is just over 700 days. Make. Them. Count.

At any point, international pandemic, global recession, or black swan events may create unlooked for chaos. And absent a sea change turn-around, the demographic tsunami headed your way as the Turd World continues to stream here and ruin two hundred years of the greatest standard of liberty and economic opportunity on earth is still headed for you, whether it's moving in first gear, or fifth.

You should be getting your What-If plans in order, getting yourself in shape, physically and mentally to cope with chaos, and ready to act, not talk, if life hands you a triple-decker sh*tburger. Like it probably will. A small local disaster is every bit the problem for some people a global disaster is for everyone. Being prepared and resilient is never wasted effort.

The Eighties and Nineties are over: things are not going to stay nifty for anyone, for long.
And what comes next may topple a civilization, or just push it into a long, slow descent into a profound decline, the likes of which, if you knew them ahead, would have you frantically doing everything you could to avert the consequences on a personal level.

Avoid crowds.
Be Somewhere Else when bad things happen.
Save For Rainy Days.
Live Within Your Means.
Strong People Are Harder To Kill, And Generally More Useful.
No One Else Will Be Coming To Save You.

Tuesday, February 12, 2019

Feb 2019 Ebola Update: Cheery Thoughts




















Six months in, the second-worst Ebola outbreak in history trails only the 2014 West African Pandemic Games Ebola world record (Level 15-17, depending on whose numbers you believe.)
You are officially at a Level 10 on the 34-Step Pandemic Panic-Meter©.
FYI, every ten steps or so takes the number of cases up by 10³.
I.e., Level 1 is 1 case (Patient Zero).
Level 10 is 1,000 cases (Now, 6 months into the outbreak).
Level 20 is 1,000,000 cases (At current course and speed, perhaps as soon as this coming August, six months from now. And that's with a near-flawless experimental vaccine in use. Alternatively, maybe only 8,000 cases in August; still bad, but not that much worse than now.)
{And yes, the Black Death and smallpox are still the all-time record holders. So far.}
Level 30 is 1,000,000,000.
Level 34 is everyone. (Minus the infectious but survived-the-initial-infection 20%).

Good News: The vaccinations have made this a slow ramp-up to 1000 cases.
Bad News: No slowing in sight, and at a certain point, things begin instead to accelerate, like rolling a boulder down a steep hill.

FWIW, West Africa topped out somewhere around 90,000 cases and 30K-40K deaths (using the conservative estimate that reported numbers were "only" 1/3 of reality numbers. And Word To Your Mother, with actual mortality numbers, if they had 90K cases - and they did - they had >70K deaths. Even with the 30K number of cases, deaths would have to be around 24K. So you can tell they were lying, because their lips were moving.)

And they admitted two months ago this outbreak would go on at least another six months. Things now are worse than two months ago there, not better. Ponder that before you think this will "burn itself out" ever, let alone anywhere south of 1,000,000 cases.

And yes, the official tally right now is "only" 959, not an actual 1000, but due to the fact that they haven't been able to vaccinate, trace contacts, or even operate health teams in the highest-affected areas for days and weeks at a stretch, the reality is that they probably blew past 1000 cases some weeks ago. I'm going with calling that one now, instead of waiting for next week's WHO report.

And once again, the fatality rate is right on at 80%. Not the happy-gas 60%.
(Go to Wikitardia's page: Take the deaths today. Divide that number by the confirmed  Ebola cases 21 days earlier. Nota bene that result is consistently within a point of 80%, going back to the first weeks of the outbreaks. Math: Still a thing, Wikipedia.)

And in case you weren't aware, Ebola "care" in DRC, and all of Africa, at Ebola Treatment Centers, is always "palliative", i.e. "make their symptoms and inevitable death less uncomfortable", for the 80% who'll expire.The "lucky" 20% who survive will now carry the disease effectively for life (every time they check survivors, they find live virus reservoirs) and can look forward to not only re-infecting friends and family (which may be one hitherto unsuspected source of new outbreaks going back to the 1970s), but eventually going blind, and multiple other lifelong consequences. Good times. Oh, and that's exactly the future for the survivors treated here in the US in 2014-2015. Their lives are functionally over, and they're dead men/women walking.

Bonus point for this outbreak:
 "the World Health Organization indicated that half of confirmed cases were not showing any fever symptom, thus making diagnosis more difficult."

How do they screen out potential Ebola infectees at the airports and border crossings (when they bother to try)?
Fever.













Pleasant dreams.

TL;DR: You don't have enough sand bags, concertina wire, and ammunition for what's coming once it escapes the lab. Again.

Video reference: World War Z.

Forecast: When this becomes as blisteringly obvious to TPTB as it is now, here, any actual and factual reporting on it will be squelched. Just like in 2014.
Watch and see if I'm right. I'd love not to be.

Monday, February 11, 2019

Life Lesson: For You Who Live Sheltered Lives


For the Perpetually Offended:
This is not a black man, nor a Caucasian in "black face".
It's a man with "homeless tan", i.e. what happens when lack of primary hygiene
 tattoos 60 years of dirt into your skin. This is also what the typical homeless
person of +/- 35 y.o. looks like. Drugs, alcohol, and crazy are not your friends.

Riffing off Mosby's recent repost of his 2014 thoughts on field sanitation and hygiene, I offer the following experience, far too recent.

I have elsewhere documented a previous encounter with a member of the Street Diversity.
Suffice it so, I recently had occasion to deal with several more, including Mr. Brown. (Go read the linked story, above. Not right before nor after a meal.) Mr. Brown was worse than Mrs. Brown. Same basic premise (living in car for months to years). Twenty pounds of actual sh*t in his shorts. Except with septic shock, and a literal coral reef of fungus on both legs, inches thick, which didn't spontaneously generate over days nor even weeks. He was outted when the vehicle he was driving struck a parked car in a lot, and PD found him.

Another, probably a cousin of the Brown family tree, was living similarly, with holes in his skin such that I could do anatomy lessons from the exposed musculature visible through his windows, a pair of sodden feet (due to recent rains) inside boots that were a classroom lecture and lab on immersion foot, and a probable case of necrotizing fasciitis, i.e. flesh-eating bacteria.

Both of them with extra riders, i.e. parasitic infestations.

Those guys usually die within a day or two, BTW. We may save one or both, but only just barely.

Who cares, you're not doing my job, right?

Okay, well-played. Except not so much.

And suppose Mr. Brown had hit your car?
Or what if Cousin Brown washed up on your doorstep, or at the end of your lane, in anything from just bad luck to major disaster, let alone SHTF?

If these sorts of Zombie Hordes walk around every day in first-world conditions now (and I'm here to assure you that they do), what are the odds you run across them come a local disaster, let alone civil disruption, or full-on Sportiness when bad things happen to everyone?

My SWAG: about 100%.

What's your plan to deal with that?
(For the smart @$$/dumb @$$ who kneejerk replies "Rule 308", fair enough and all; so, waddarya gonna do with the leftovers afterwards?)

How prepared are you to deal with the unhygienic unwashed stinking pestilential shambling masses anywhere between city hall and the front porch, dead or alive?

Sanitary disposal and Level-A Hazmat decon better be on your radar, long before it's on your front porch.

And you'd better be pretty up-to-date on your vaccinations, as well as being able to deal with every one of 100 medieval pestilential plagues after anything as simple as bad weather.
And game it for when you cannot call 911, and have the county coroner's van show up to dispose of the detritus that was deposited nearby.

No one is coming to save you.

Now see if you can figure why I think being familiar with Ebola, and the field-expedient protection for it, might be a bit more germane than some of the witless wonders think it is.

There's a typhus outbreak, right effing now, in Los Angeles' City Hall. Today.
From sewer rats, who gain access to the buildings via thoughtfully constructed rain gutters that provide a highway from curb rain gutters all the way to the roof, and then into the building through ventilation ducting and such.

What's your contingency plan for typhoid, dysentery, plague, and dozens of other civilization-long killers of man, going back to the deep B.C. era.?

PTA, baby:

Prevention
Treatment
Abatement

Vector control, pest eradication, and public health are suddenly on your plate too, as lord of your own domain, in any sort of disruption, large or small, short-term or generational.
Washing your hands is good, but there's more than that to sanitation.

Fail to plan: Plan to fail.

Fail = slow, lingering death for you and yours, shriveled, crapping your guts out, amidst an uncaring universe.

You will see this material again.
Next time, the pop quiz may be with your life and your tribes' as the ante.

Choose wisely.

Intelligence - Emergency Planning: BESTMAPS




Sam Culper at Forward Observer has launched FOTV.
The first video is under 10 minutes of introduction to an acronym tool for what you should be looking at to understand your own area, for any sort of contingency planning, from mild to wild.

Go. Watch. Learn.

Give 'em a thumbs up, or a subscribe, and if you need it, tag along for future installments.
You're getting pearls here, for free, minus the time and the cost of streaming electrons.

Leaving fruit like this unharvested is like leaving money on the table in Vegas: simply not done.

Hard At Work




 

Local, Local, Local.