Chinesium Is Where You Find It - Example #41683 Of How They're Trying To Kill Us With Their Consummate Incompetence

Not so fun wang chung offering:

Came home to a new smell today. VOCs, specifically.

"That's funny...the house doesn't usually smell like a broken petrochemical plant when I walk in..."

This is bad. 

Sniffed around (literally). Found the culprit. A less-than-two-months-since-purchase quart can of paint thinner.

American company. Allegedly.

But using, to a metaphysical certainty, some total p.o.s. container made of pure chinesium, purchased by them, beyond any argument, from the glorious minions at the People's #28 Excellent Metal Container Factory in Sum Fuk Dup City, People's Republic of Chinesian Cheap Shit.

Corroded and rusted dafuq up in less than 60 days on the shelf, from a can only six months old since it was filled at the factory, in an area with average humidity in the high 40s, stored in a cool dark paint cabinet, away from any other problematic elements or any chance of galvanic corrosion. But nothing is foolproof, because fools are so ingenious. Or just cheapskate SOBs.

Cap: sealed tight.

Squeeze the can: pinpoint leak shoots out 2/3rds of the way down the can (red circle in header pic), amidst a fresh and chunky 4" rusticle right along the "sealed" cheap ass chinesium can seam. (Can't figure out if they sealed it with soy glue, paper tape, or just straight sugary syrup.) Which - clearly - ain't sealed any more. In a failure of a type of container technology that was perfected on this continent over 150 years ago. Lazy stupid bastards.

FFS, dad had thirty-or-more-year-old cans, with labels from all the way back to the Depression, sitting around his shop when I was a kid, and never had a single leak from a one of them. Oh, but wait, those were Made In America cans, from the last century.

Fortunately, the can I bought was still about 90% full (I'd barely used a cupful to clean up some brushes a couple of months ago). So it had leaked enough to let me know there was a problem, but hadn't completely unzipped and shat the bed. Yet. Probably by mere hours.

If I hadn't found this until a day or two later, I'd probably be writing this from the burn ward, after the water heater pilot light did a little physics demonstration.

The people who palmed this off on customers, at every level, should die of metastasized dick cancer, attacked by rabid pit bulls and badgers, as they fall into a pool of flaming lava, those chintzy m*****f*****s!

Testor's Models had the right idea: Next can of paint thinner goes straight into a glass carboy jug with a gasket-sealed metal screw top or a rubber stopper, because those bastards can't f**k that up. Yet.

The can (emptied out now - thanks for the hazmat situation, @$$holes) is getting sent back to the cheap bastards who used it as a retail container, with a strongly-worded letter. God help them and their legal team if I ever have a house fire, but the new house and car will be fabulous. I'll CC the major retailer who sold it, along with the pics, because their other cans are going to be failing too, on the store shelves, and that's liable to turn into an even bigger lawsuit, and probably sooner than later.

I wonder how much that's going to save Cheapshit Chemicals Inc. in the long run by buying chinesium metal cans by the metric buttload.

Welcome To My World

h/t IOTW

IOTW links to a story called "Why it’s so hard to get mentally ill Californians into treatment"
(besides the obvious answer, which is because my fellow Californians keep electing them to office):

(EXCREMENTO, CA) For years, Diane Shinstock watched her adult son deteriorate on the streets.  Suffering from severe schizophrenia, he slept under stairwells and bushes, screamed at passersby and was arrested for throwing rocks at cars.Sometimes he refused the housing options he was offered. Sometimes he got kicked out of places for bad behavior.  Shinstock, who lives in Roseville and works on disability issues for the state of California, begged mental health officials to place him under conservatorship—essentially, depriving him of his personal liberty because he was so sick that he couldn’t provide for his most basic personal needs of food, clothing and shelter.
But county officials told her, she said, that under state law, her son could not be conserved; because he chose to live on the streets, he did not fit the criteria for “gravely disabled.”

RTWT.

This is my life, every day for 20 years in the ER, and every other ER, nationwide, especially so if the community is larger than 50K people, and if it doesn't snow there in the winter, multiply that by a factor of 10.

We didn't have 500,000 visits a year at the Busiest ER On The Planet™; we had 1000 regulars who came in 500 times apiece.

I've now been to...fourteen ERs in three counties in nearly twenty years doing this, and it's no different anywhere you go.

Schizophrenia is like heroin addiction: it's a social death sentence, and it's almost never getting any better. The worst part, for family, is that Suzy or John (mostly John, victims are about 1 1/2 times more likely to be male than female) is perfectly normal until late high school or early college, even honors students, and then that last bit of wiring in their heads doesn't go in right. It short-circuits, and they stop being normal, brighter-than-average kids and become, frankly, batshit crazy. I can only imagine the never-ending horror for parents of raising a child, getting them safely past all the normal hurdles of growing up, sending them to college, thinking things are okay, and then watching them completely melt down before your eyes.

Meds help, but only if someone with schizophrenia takes them.
The meds make them feel "weird" (which is what we who aren't schizo call "everyday life" 24/7/365/forever), but they seem fine. So they decide they're not sick, and don't need the meds. And become actually weird, hearing voices who aren't there, seeing people and things that aren't real, and end up in my patch, barking, frothing mad. So we re-medicate them, they get put on a psych hold, they get better, go home, and the cycle repeats. And repeats. And repeats. And repeats. And repeats. And repeats. And repeats. And repeats. And repeats. And repeats. And repeats. And repeats. And repeats. And repeats. And repeats.

Frequently, after burning all bridges with family, friends, and everyone else, and being thrown out of every care facility in an entire time zone, for cause, they end up on the streets. Where they "self-medicate". I.e., with pot, meth, heroin, benzodiazepines, alcohol, bath salts, paint, glue, or pretty much any substance they can get into their hands, and their bodies.

In a lucid moment, a juvenile patient once confided to me, straight-up, that he got wasted because when he got The Voices In His Head drunk or stoned enough, he couldn't understand them or hear them any more. Pure medical genius, right there.

Oh, and The Voices? They never tell you "You look great!" "Everybody loves you!" "You're a wonderful human being!"

That would be too easy, right?

The Voices always say "You suck. Kill yourself. Everyone hates you. Why don't you die?"

Go watch A Beautiful Mind. Or every scene with Gollum in the LOTR movies. (No points for guessing which sections of those latter movies I will completely skip over, wholesale, in that entire trilogy, because it's too much like pulling a shift at work, except without getting paid.) There was even a great TV MOTW with James Garner as the sane brother, and James Woods as the nut, that they showed in nursing school, because the writers and actors got it so right.

The article tries to pin this mess on Reagan (color me shocked), for signing Lanterman-Petris-Short in CA in 1967. But every other state was doing the exact same thing, and in fact LPS was in the legislative pipeline and conceived under Democrat CA governor Pat Brown, Moonbeam's father, before Reagan was even thinking about politics.

The state - in fact every damned one of them - wanted to get rid of psych hospitals long before One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest (which was outdated tripe from 30 years earlier when the film was made, but why let facts interfere with a good screed, right?), simply because crazy people don't pay their bills, you do. So warehousing them in Bedlam was nothing but a money hole the size of the Grand Canyon, nationwide.

And the do-gooders got together with the penny-pinchers, and decided collectively that since psych hospitals were so terrible, understaffed, under-funded, and yet still too expensive, because staff needs salary and crazy people need food and medicine, why not just turn everyone so "unjustly imprisoned for life" out onto the street?
What could possibly go wrong?
"The state budget will save millions!"

Whereas instead, as we all experience daily, they're free to run into traffic, attack people, burglarize and rob and steal to get money for drugs/alcohol/whatever, crap on the streets, and generally validate every reason that we have for why we used to throw a net over them and lock them up for life.

Which we can't do, because you have to be a "danger to self, danger to others, or gravely disabled", the definition for which last means that if you are mentally with it enough to scrounge garbage to eat out of a dumpster, drape yourself in trash bags when it rains, and construct a cardboard pallet and hovel to sleep on and in, you're not "gravely disabled."
Just...eccentric, and living an "alternative lifestyle choice".
Don't believe me, ask the district attorney, the state bar association, and the Do-Gooders League Of America. This ain't a California thing, it's a U.S. of A. thing, coast-to-coast.

So they're free, and now everyone else has to lock their doors, put up bars, keep their kids inside, and pack heat, so that these literal lunatics can run wild and free.

Brilliant.

And the article shows that TPTB haven't figured it out, even after 50 years' time.

The do-gooders just want them to be free (and to hell with their best interests, or anyone else's).
The rent-seekers want more money, and no rules for them.
The families want somebody else to solve (and most importantly, pay for, their batshit crazy uncles, cousins, brothers, and sons).
And the police, the hospitals, and the courts are simply tired of dealing with their bullshit, and that of the interest groups who want it to continue more than they want what we have now to stop.

My bent is a libertarian approach.
After three trips to hospital on a 5150 for being off your meds, we throw a net over you.
We put you in a helicopter, and we drop you off on one of the Channel Islands currently inhabited mainly by goats.
Once a week, the helicopter flies over, and they kick out food bundles.
There are no trees, and the islands are 30-40 miles away, in waters best described as sub-arctic even in July; those people aren't swimming or floating back, ever.
If the family is all broken up over this, they can pay for private care. They can visit them on Shutter Island whenever they like. They can bring them food, clothes, or anything else to make their stay more pleasant. They can even bring doctors and medicine there to address any other needs. The whackjobs are now free to chase butterflies, run around naked, or even try to fly off the cliffs; I don't care.
I don't want them euthanized, or harmed in any way. I want them free. Over there.

What they aren't free to do, is continue to run around in traffic, assault people and each other, crap on your porch, or walk around in society off their meds.
Three strikes, and you're out.
Now they're free, and so are we.

The do-gooders have tried it their way. So have the penny-pinchers.
Now it's time to solve the problem.

Play Stupid Games...

h/t Kenny

Mordor On The Potomac (AFP) – Washington authorities said they will ramp up the capital city’s emergency level when white nationalists and counterprotesters demonstrate Sunday at the same park outside the White House.
The National Park Service said Wednesday it issued a permit for a rally in Lafayette Park by Unite the Right, the white supremacist network that organized a protest in Charlottesville, Virginia last year that turned deadly.
But the service said it has also issued a permit at the same park on the same day for counterprotesters, a move that appeared to raise the prospects of a violent clash right in front of the White House.

The leftard baboons kicked the organizing idiots' asses in Charlottesville last time, by official design and deliberate plan, and the same bunch of bubba-brained idiots don't seem to have learned the lesson most of us did in kindergarten: not to play in the street.

This is just jackassery boob bait for the retards on both sides.
All it will accomplish is a brief rush at the local trauma centers, and overtime for the cops dispatched to see that both sides leave bloody. And plenty of red meat stock footage for the fakenews media monkeys, wholly unconstrained by any connection with reality or truth - just the way the media likes it.

Bonus question:
Show of hands from the class: who knows the current number of CCWs issued in DC?
Anyone?
Beuller?
Ferris Beuller...?

This sort of Dipshits On Parade All-Star Game should be laughed at by anyone with a lick of common sense.

The only excuse to show up would be to monkeywrench the counterprotester rent-a-mob's busses, making it that much harder to find any companies to sucker into working the next one, and forcing those jackwagons who came in on them to walk home.

The rent-a-mob participants should also be followed, photographed, and individually doxxed online, which makes getting an astroturf crowd that much harder next time too.

And if the clowns in charge of the main event didn't set that up and staff it a month before pulling that rally permit, they're too short for this ride, by about 50 IQ points.

There's a reason set-piece battles went out of vogue by anyone both serious and intelligent about 200 years ago.

And when obvious troll-bait organizations like Unite The Fraud are forced to try the same tricks as a year ago, they're out of ideas. Expect a baker's dozen Confederate, Nazi, and neo-Nazi/white supremacist flags to be on display right in front of the press box, and the DC police to stand back and barricade the combatants in close proximity while they watch and do nothing.

Who TF would show up for that soireé with an IQ higher than their shoe size?!?

So, by definition, you're only going to draw people who can't make the cut-off on that selection.

Well-played: they've now sunk to organizing MMA cage matches at the Special Olympics.

For People Who Can't Learn To Stop Kicking Fresh Turds

Never kick a fresh turd on a hot day. - cowboy wisdom

And if your shoe has fresh turd all over it, I'm looking at you.

I) This requires the assent of the Dem-supermajority CA legislature, plus the approval of Congress. Which has about as much likelihood of ever passing either body as science has of breeding a flying pig, with wings and feathers. That alone should have stopped you, but since we've started the fisking, we'll keep piling on.
None of this will ever happen.

II) Without CA's monstrously winner-take-all electoral count, Obozo was the last Democrat to visit the inside of the Oval Office as anything but a visitor, for...ever. And every Leftard in Sacramento and DC knows this. And have since 1992. So no one's going to vote for breaking up this 55-piece electoral rock band. The only people clamoring for anything like that should be the other 49 states voting for CA not to split up, but to fully secede.
We've covered that pigs-flying scenario too, before now.
None of this will ever happen.

III) Not a single one of 49 other states would vote to give CA 3X the number of Senators. If they did, Texas would split 37 ways, and Rhode Island and Connecticut would vote to split into individual counties as new states. And everyone can see that elephant coming clear to the horizon, on plains as flat as Kansas. It's never going to even get started. The Seventeenth Amendment should have been ruled an unconstitutional Progressive fapfest, that would undo the precise governmental balance set in place 126 years earlier, exactly as it's done, and with its Progtard ugly stepsisters, the XVIth and XIXth Amendments, should have been repealed as heartily as was the Eighteenth, but faster. Sadly, no such perspicacity has yet dawned in most of the American consciousness. But even people who applauded those monstrosities won't miss the problems with this scheme.
None of this will ever happen.

IV) If someohow, via magic and unicorns farting pixie dust, this ever did happen, all it would do is hasten the coming civil war, harder and faster than what will otherwise transpire. "Norcal" would be San Fransh*tco and Marin Moron County neck-chained to the interior parts, which are all redder than a sunburnt pig. The disenfranchised folks up there will be clamoring for a further dissolution, and vote with rifles as quick as ballots if it isn't forthcoming.
People hereabouts haven't spent the last twenty years laying in millions of banned/unbanned/maybe-gonna-get-banned mil-style pseudo-"assault" weapons just for target practice.
None of this will ever happen.

V) Annoying as naked reality may be for some people, this measure splits nothing and no one. It is, in actual fact, just an agreement to talk about talking about maybe, someday, possibly, perhaps, thinking about possibly sort of pondering whether to eventually split the state up. In the future. At some mythical date TBD. It mainly just achieves a list of make-work appointments for cronies on the taxpayers' nickel, providing another barrel of pork sinecures like Moonbeam's famed "high-speed rail" Great Leap Back To The 19th Century boondoggle, that's also never going to happen. Every second people spend talking about or looking at this nonsense distracts them from what's really going on here, with actual consequences. That makes those people the titular characters in the eponymous Rope-A-Dope Strategy. 
None of this will ever happen.

VI) In the real world, CA is set, at current course and speed, to go utterly bankrupt from pension shortfalls in about a decade, leading to a glorious 1989-Soviet-Union self-immolation, of biblical proportions. Start thinking about what happens after that.
We've covered that before, too:

G) Bridge Out

Califrutopia, like most of the country, is headed for a fiscal cliff.
Chicongo just started laying off actual workers, to use the money to pay the exorbitant recockulous pensions of retired state workers.
That means they can't pay actual cops and firemen, because they're too busy funding the retired ones.
This induces productive citizens, and businesses, to flee a city and state that can't catch the crooks, nor put out the fires.
Which accelerates the financial collapse of such agencies and jurisdictions even faster.
(Don't get smart-ass; 50:1 your state or city is in the same boat, to a greater or lesser degree. Pay attention to this.)
California is in the same boat.
And when they get to the IOU stage for retirees, the ones who moved to your low-tax retirement haven will now be on your welfare dole.

But either way, cities and states will go bankrupt, even if they briefly try confiscatory tax policies.

(Refresher lesson: what two things started the Revolutionary War?
a) Taxes
b) Weapons seizures
c) Both of the above
Now, tell me which of those are a problem in CA. Or Chicongo. Ad infinitum.)

What cannot continue, won't.
They can end the welfare state, including ridiculous state pensions and EBT card largesse, or they can totally collapse. There is no third option.

So, point to ponder:
What happens when retirees, including cops and firemen, aren't getting pensions, they can't pay for the current ones to catch crooks and put out fires, and they stop paying protection money to the Diversity here, or anywhere, because they simply cannot come up with it?

Here's my guess. I've only seen it firsthand twice in my lifetime, right in Los Angeles.

So, you're going to do - and should do - What, exactly, about that?

And as we've also covered, all those retiree tax refugees from IL, CA, and elsewhere, who've retired to your low-tax haven will now be penniless, on your doorstep, and thus your new problem, and with only about 30-something other states facing a similar pension disasterpiece theater in the not-so-distant future. Socialism, like VD, is the gift that keeps on giving, and burns all the time. Enjoy!

Rethink your premises, and start pondering likely to certain realities, instead of unlikely fantasies.
The only thing MORE certain than Death and Taxes will be the Death OF Taxes, when socialism here - and everywhere else - reaches its inevitable end state.

VII) I realize this shiny mylar icicle-wrapped meadow muffin is as irresistible as catnip to some few of those jealous of year-around 70-degree weather and 30-percent humidity when they're busy in Some Other State either sweating their wedding tackle off, or neck deep shoveling some quaint winter atmosphere at 0° F., most of the year anywhere else. I know it's fun for them to mock what their carpetbagging ne'er-do-well village idiot cousins, their toothless banjo-playing kinfolk, and those millions of illegal aliens their retarded feckless senators and congressmen can't seem to notice (until they're slapped in the face with them because Greater Aztlan Assland now extends to North Dakota, Maine, and New Hamster) they've exported here since at least the 1930s have gotten up to in the Golden State, given the laissez-faire attitude and general goodwill of the natives hereabouts. (As a funnier joke, notice that we send them right back to Washington DC, and let them pay you all back in spades. Hilarious, no?) But if that stinky shoe fits, perhaps be less enviously retarded for a moment, and recognize that as much fun as you have fiddling with this particular patty in the meadow, at the end of the day, you're the one whose carpet is soiled, whose house will stink, and no one else is going to clean the residue of your momentary delight off the end of your own shoe. You'll be doing that yourself.

Other than certain turd-world sh*thole/Democrat-rich bastions mainly east of the Mississippi -NYFC, Chicongo, Detroitistan, Baltimorons, and the District Of Corruption - I hold no particular malice to any other city or state per se, nor to its native peoples. (Ignorant immigrants coming here from Trashcanistan and Shitholia who came here to replicate Trashcanistan and Shitholia, while holding out their hand for their share of the welfare state's gibsmedat teat-salary to the Free Shit Army, get out before you hear the incoming gunfire. Please.) I've seen a good bit of this country, and the people too, and most are both beautiful, and examples to write home about. Or, horrible, evil, thieving scumbags. Like all things, you judge by the individual, not the time zone, zip code, or skin color, but by the individual example.

So to the individuals, consider:
If this measure passes, it means nothing.
If it fails to pass, it means nothing.
See if you can cleverly parse out what that portends for further discussion, since before it ever qualified for the ballot here.

And please, stop whacking this dead horse, leave the turd in the meadow alone, and let this happy horsesh*t die quietly, and undisturbed.

The only people happy about that attention to a meaningless issue aren't your friends, unless they're selling Lysol spray, shoe shine brushes, and polish.

The Dutch Airline With $#!^ For Brains

Mental retardation apparently strikes even at 30,000 feet:

(STRONTHOOFD) A pilot was forced to make an emergency landing after a fight broke-out when a passenger wouldn't stop FARTING.
The Dubai to Amsterdam flight made an unscheduled stop in Vienna as the elderly overweight man reportedly refused to contain himself in the packed out cabin.

Chaos erupted on the flight when two Dutchman who were sitting next to the flatulent man told him to stop and complained to Transavia Airlines crew.
Yet despite repeated requests and even a direct order from the pilot the man carried on and a fight broke out.

Perhaps the pilot was sick the day in pilot school when they covered things like physics and physiology, but when you fly, you aren't travelling in a cabin pressurized to sea level, but rather in one partially pressurized to about 5000 feet above sea level.

Flatulence, being a gas phenomenon, responds to the laws of physics, and when the pressure outside is suddenly reduced, like by travelling to altitude, versus the pressure inside the human body where digestion makes the gas, you're going to fart.

EVERYONE farts on a airplane at altitude. Every. Single. Person.
As anyone who's flown ought to know, let alone the pilot of the plane.

And a "direct order" from the pilot to stop is about as sensible as standing at the ocean and commanding the tide to stop coming in.

So Pilot Fucktard, instead of informing the dumbass Dutchmen taking offense at an unstoppable physical phenomenon, instead chose to feed their ignorant superstition, and punish a man who could no more contain himself than could he grow gills.

I have no idea how fucked up EU law is, but I hope Mr. Farter ends up a few million Euros the richer for this nonsense. The soccer hooligans ejected with him were the problem, and their fate is entirely deserved.

And as passing gas constitutes no more of an in-flight emergency than yawning, however unpleasant it is to your fellow passengers, if that, rather than the fight egged on by the captain's ignorant assholishness, was the reason for the emergency landing, the pilot should have his CATP license suspended, and be forced to retake an extensive course in flight physiology, and sensible decision making and aircraft management, not to mention testing for some baseline amount of common sense, which he's clearly lacking, ideally while being subjected to twice or thrice daily beating about the head and shoulders with a stout pole, to drive those lessons well home.

He's obviously an unmitigated fucktard, clearly too stupid at present to be entrusted with flying an airplane and the commensurate responsibility for a multi-million dollar aircraft loaded with passengers, and his customer service skills (let alone common sense) owe far more to the Gestapo than to common sense.

It's Not Discrimination When We Do It

h/t FotM

This'll end well for Ms. Pussyhat, U Penn history dept. TA:

(Gynocracy, PA) On October 16, 2017, McKellop posted on her @McKellogs Twitter account (which is now accessible only by her “confirmed followers”) that she employs a race- and gender-based preferential system for calling on her students, favoring black women first, then other people of color, then white women, and last of all, white men, but only if she has to.

If Kellop, as a teaching assistant, blatantly discriminates against white students, especially white men, in calling upon them to speak in class, then it is reasonable for us to suspect that Kellop also discriminates against her white students when it comes to grading their exams.

Fellowship Of The Minds' post includes contact info for her history (or should that be Herstory Dept.?) chairwench, and the uni president, but that rather misses the point:

This sort of discrimination is a federal civil rights violation, in which every male student at UPenn now has standing to sue in federal court. The EEOC, Department of Education, and Justice Department should all be taking a frankly proctological interest momentarily in uncovering this and any similar calculated policies of academic discrimination based on race and gender at UPenn, which blatantly violates federal law.

Not to mention a trial lawyer or two, once word gets out that every white male with the merest shred of a discrimination allegation now has a slam-dunk winnable case from deep pockets U Penn.

Scholarship? Dude, I can get you there for FREE, and they'll owe you money besides!

All told, after they fire this TA, kick her out of her Ph.D. program for cause, fire her advisor and department chair, and settle the 50,000 inevitable lawsuits, I'm figuring UPenn will be shifting to an online curriculum.

And, probably, taking the funds assessed in penalties from womyn's sports and programs.

Well played, SJW twits.
Stop your male-rape and justice-rape culture, and get your laws off my crotch.

Useful Idiots, Example #3,917

 

Still not tired of winning, and running his limo on Leftist tears.

When Retards Have Webpages Dept:

(TARDVILLE)President Trump Admits He’s Trying to Kill Obamacare. That’s Illegal. by Abbe Gluck

The president has a legal obligation, under Article II of the US Constitution, to “take Care that the laws be faithfully executed.” That means he must make sure that our laws are implemented in good faith and that he uses his executive discretion reasonably toward that end.

Trump announced his plan to cut off important cost-sharing payments that the ACA promises to insurers to compensate them for reducing what individuals have to pay in premiums.

Dear Glucktard,

Uh, no.

You were apparently sick in school the day they taught American government, 1787-present, and again the day they explained that what Trump is doing is ceasing to expend non-allocated funds to illegally subsidize insurers, cushioning them from the real-world gravity-works consequences of the ObozoCare Unaffordable-By-Anyone Care Act.

President Trump did "take care that the laws be faithfully executed", in fact doing so in this exemplar for the first time in the history of the practice, by NOT illegally diverting funds not appropriated to a given activity in order to prop up the boondoggle, with neither proper, nor indeed any, congressional appropriation.

If Congress loves the ACA, they can budget the funds for that activity (and they alone), and direct they be spent thusly. Had they done that, anytime since 2008, then President Trump would, indeed be breaking the law now. They didn't pass that law, so he isn't breaking one. That following the law will also strangle the measure is for him a happy serendipitous result, and for you a consternation, but your feelings don't outweigh black-letter reality, Snowflake. How sad for you.

Just because the law was being broken every day by the last president and administration on something some people approved of, does not bind the current president to continue operating in such a lawless and reckless manner.

If you think the subsidies are a good idea, call your congresspersons, and get them to allocate the funds lawfully.

And maybe stop using words like Humpty Dumpty did in Alice In Wonderland.

"When I use a word, " Humpty Dumpty said, in a rather scornful tone, "it means just what I choose it to mean -- neither more nor less."

Stopping illegal payments that never should have started is not only legal, it goes to fulfilling a campaign promise:

Drain The Swamp.

Or, as another fellow put it: Elections have Consequences.

Challenge accepted.

Not so funny when the boot's up your ass, is it Smarmy McSmugpuss?

Suck it up, Buttercup.

Life Imitates Acronym

Surrendering completely to the hopelessly polluted cultural tides, the Boy Scouts of America announced they will start letting girls into the organization next year.

Of course this is an asinine, self-destructive, and completely wrong move for the organization, but it's just another proof that it needs to crawl under the porch and die.

I know some of the ancillary programs, Explorers, Sea cadets, etc. are already coed; I know this because with tedious regularity, some douchebadge at a local PD etc. will be fired and suitably thrown under the bus when it turns out they were diddling underage boys, or doinking underage girls, which functions much better as a rationale for getting rid of those ancillary programs than it does to expanding the idea to the entire organization.

The impetus behind this is twofold.

Firstly, the feminazis took over the Girl Scouts, and other than their annual cookie sales, they don't contribute anything that society overall, the girls, or their parents want anything much to do with. All the feminist claptrap Girl Scouting is now about doesn't require a merit badge to learn, it can be had for free just by going to the local middle- or high school, let alone advancing to the cesspit of most colleges and universities. You don't need a uniform, just a pink pussy hat, and instead of wasting time earning merit badges, they can absorb the same lessons just for sitting in class and regurgitating the party line while growing a festering sense of entitlement and gender envy big enough to choke a hippopotamus (relax, girls, it was a male hippopotamus, so he clearly had it coming).

So, having shit in their own nest, the Mothers Of America, rather than fixing what they broke, or asking the management at BSA so conspicuously lacking at GSA to take over the latter, instead want now to simply crash the party at the boys' side of the house (because gender is really whatever you feel it is, never mind those annoying X and Y chromosones), which hasn't been totally fornicated into uselessness like the Girl Scouts have. Great lessons you're teaching your daughters there, ladies.

This brings us to the second impetus. Because although by all accounts, the Boy Scouts haven't come completely unglued, it's not for lack of the usual SJW Diversity Police trying mightily to do so.

First is was the atheists pushing back against reverence, then it was the gay Scouts and NAMBLA would-be scoutmasters pounding out any notion of a scout being "morally straight".

Both of those are a problem for a post-Christian society run by the most toxic iteration of secular humanism, and now we can add feminism to the list of afflictions.

Because a large swath of bitter, ugly, misandrists is perpetually offended at the idea of boys being boys, and growing up to become men. "We can't be having any of that." they say with an upturned nose, and a chip the size of Gibraltar on their shoulder. In a way, it was inevitable, as fathers have been relentlessly pushed out of the home by one-sided divorce courts where due process goes to die, aided and abetted by no-fault divorce, and most boys are lucky if they even know their own father, let alone have one around to go to a scout troop meeting or outdoor adventure.

And I say this from the outside, because as a later-in-life child for my parents (yes, I was the Oops! My younger brother was the companion that sealed off any more trying for a daughter.) my father was far too old, too broken down, and frankly too selfish for scouting to ever be an option for me. So I'm not all butthurt and nostalgic that things for boy scouts now aren't the way it was for me, because I never belonged. My older brother did though, from far earlier a time, with a much younger father, and it was through his vintage Handbook For Boys that I learned about the Boy Scouts and scouting, never having partaken of it as such.

And it's from another world, one totally at odds with America in 2017. The idea that a herd of adolescent boys with minimal supervision could be allowed to plan, execute, and survive an excursion to the wilderness that yet abounds in America sends everyone, from the juvenile protective agencies, to police, to the mothers of America, into delusional fits of apoplexy, or fainting spells at the mere thought of letting something like that happen.

We can't let boys be boys, and we certainly can't have them hiking, running, building muscles and healthy bodies, climbing rocks, shooting bows and rifles, and slingshots, learning responsibility, self-reliance, masculine strength, personal and physical courage, whether on a swim across a lake, or learning to save lives at the pool or when someone is injured, or learning how to do 87 different things to such a degree that most Eagle Scouts should probably be given a college associate's degree on the spot. They'll get all self-assured, they'll tussle, they'll skin their knees, break some bones, get dirt on the carpet, and generally become the men that women of today still long for (in vain, mostly) if the ratings for Mad Men and Daniel Craig's rebooting of 007 back to Connery levels were any indication. The sisterhood won't allow that, for it swims upstream against the currents of the depraved culture, and one glimpse of it undoes hour of tedious lectures on diversity and metrosexuality, while making the buckets of Ritalin and Prozac and Paxil heaped into and hurled at normal, healthy school-age boys a total waste of money.

Left unchecked they'd play football and baseball, and have the nerve to keep score. They'd play tag, and make finger guns, roughhouse, play practical jokes, make slingshots and spit wads and throw water balloons, and generally act like wild Indians Native Americans indigenous peoples, which was the whole part about teaching them about people like Robert Rogers, Francis Marion, Lewis & Clark, William Cody, Bill Hickok, George Washington Carver, Geronimo, Thomas Edison, Jim Thorpe, Sgt. York, and an entire host of historical American figures that today are verbotten because they're mostly too white, all too rambunctious and free-wheeling, and unquestionably all too male.

We have a society of harpy man-hating women, and pussified metrosexual males, that go pale at the thought of raising boys who'd climb mountains, sail around the world solo, join the military and kill people and break things, find buried treasure, hunt pirates, or go to the moon. Only women and people of color should do that, because they're better than the rich white old male patriarchy that carved the greatest nation on earth out of harsh wilderness with two hands, a strong back, a sharp mind, and guts. Oh, and while we're at it, stop singing the praises of your mother country. It triggers the snowflakes.

Society now wants boys to shut up, check their privilege, wallow in their race guilt, genuflect to defective dystopian savages, and go sit on the couch in their footie pajamas sipping cocoa. Not bring groceries to a widow and her kids, or mow an old woman's lawn, or - God forbid! - go to church or synagogue and read a Bible.

We can't have them building things, building strength, building their minds, building their confidence, and learning to Be Prepared. O hell no! They need to learn to depend on government, and its endless soul-sapping bureaucracy, to let it be the same fount of plenty it is for millions of welfare moms married to the government in fatherless homes, once a rarity, but now, the near-universal norm across all races and every level of economic status.

But the girls see what's going on, and they want those things boys shouldn't have, as do their mothers, so they want in, and now the Boy Scouts have finally caved to that too. So now we cue what inevitably follows. Not just the sexual precociousness that will follow, but the same crap parents once sent their boys into scouting to avoid: the need for lectures about STDs at age 9, the man-shaming, the endless whiny bitching about male privilege, and patriarchy, and male domination, the demand for lowered standards, and literally having to pull extra load for the girls. And like night follows day, all the inevitable future lawsuits and harping complaints about everything wrong with the organization they battered their way into uninvited which will blossom in the scouts next year like dandelions on an untended lawn, until the entire organization best resembles naught but the dry, empty shed skin of a giant python.

And the same things that have pussified the rest of society will now become the norm in the troops, as they have in the military, and business, and school, and churches, and in short order, only the pussified priggish beta males will be left there, along with the militant recruiting LGBTEIEIO contingent, and in a few short years, everything the girls who wanted into the Boy Scouts to find will have been driven out of it, by the herds of clueless feral shitting and scratching-up-everything hens that they are, like their mothers before them were.

The men will leave, and the boys, forced into a game where they can't win, will quickly lose interest, and quit in droves. And so, a once-proud and honorable organization, that had raised millions of exceptional scouts into Star, Life, and Eagle Scouts, and millions more boys into simply decent, confident, and competent men, will fade into obscurity and irrelevance. Which, after all, was the whole point of the exercise driving all the pressure on them in the first place. Mission Accomplished, ye shitweasels of cultural decay, you've felled another oak, and rotted another pillar of society.

So while it's incredibly appropriate that they are now the BS of America, the scouts should cut to the chase, and rename themselves the Gender-Neutral Scouts; or, if it isn't already too on-point, the Gender-Neutered Scouts. And maybe go for pink neckerchiefs.

And here's your new Scout law:

A Scout is dishonorable, selfish, helpless, surly, discourteous, mean, disobedient, angry, careless, timid, dirty, and dissolute.
Right, mommy?

1. Identify a respected institution. 
2. Kill it.
3.Gut it.
4. Wear its carcass as a skin suit while demanding respect.
5. Use it as the next cultural beachhead devoted to more leftist indoctrination.

Blistering Irony Attack Cripples Professor Snowflake

 

(Missoula)University of Montana professor Tobin Miller Shearer, director of the African-American studies program, said he noticed something was wrong right away Thursday morning as he passed the bulletin board in the Liberal Arts building on campus.

The day before, Shearer had posted a flyer outlining a new class he is offering in the spring: “White Supremacy History/Defeat.” 

But on Thursday morning, another sign — designed to look just like Shearer’s poster — had been put up atop his, this one detailing a fictitious course “Black Nationalism History/Defeat.”

Whoever made the new flyer had copied Shearer’s layout, including the font and location of a photo, and changing the bullet points of the course objectives from ones like Shearer’s “Implement and evaluate a project to dismantle white supremacy in the U.S.” to the same line directed at “black nationalism.”

Missouligans for the win.
10 out of 10, you Magnificent Bastards!
Clearly somebody at U of MT was paying attention in English class when they discussed satire and irony, so their suspect list for the inevitable witch hunt should start with everyone who was accepted with AP placement in English.

Professor Tobin (wait...really? A Black Studies professor named Toby? Where's the hidden camera? Wait...he's white?!? OMG, call the Double Irony Police!) Shearer rising to the bait so predictably pretty much insures this is only the first time he's going to be pranked, not the last. I predict students mocking his flyers to the this point

is probable for some good number of years, times every campus in every state.

I wouldn't know anything about that. At Cal State back in the day, any flier on a bulletin board had to have the Official Stamp Of GoodThink Approval on the corner. See if you can guess which blogger you're reading spent the first couple of weeks of his first semester there making an identical rubber stamp out of a big pink eraser with an X-Acto knife, and hammering the bulletin boards at will whenever the need was felt. What I wouldn't have given for Photoshop and PageMaker back in the day when there were pay copy machines at the supermarket, and computer games came on punched paper tape.

Expect the Wizengamot of the U MT Perpetually Offended Harpies of Faux Studies And Diversity Beans to fly in on their broomsticks at the speed of heat to quash this disgusting display of creativity and spontaneous emesis of the GoodThink in play on America's college campuses, at least in a state where there are still more antelope than liberals.

 

If you think this is terrible, and want to spare Shearer the embarrassment of wetting himself in public every day for the rest of his career, you could maybe send him a single adult Depends diapers (please, new only, no used ones) at

Prof. Tobin M. Shearer

U. of Montana African American Studies

32 Campus Drive

Missoula, MT 59812 

 

He's going to need them.

I won't be holding your hand, so if the return address happens to be the college, university, or TV station nearest to you, well, that's just hard cheese, right?

 

Or you could just e-mail him your thoughts at tobin.shearer@umontanu.edu, or tobin.shearer@mso.umt.edu. Clearly, he's got too much free time on his hands anyways.

You can even give him a buzz during Wednesday officer hours 1-3PM local time at
(406) 662-8227. Bonus points if you live in MT, and pay taxes for this sort of state-sponsored nonsense.

Or, you could just remember that the key to things in the near term is local, local, local. And maybe go see what you can find on a local bulletin board - anywhere - that's deserving of some similarly clever mocking.

Everyone should have a hobby.

And those fish in the barrel aren't going to shoot themselves.

Mulisha: Don't Be This Guy

h/t Mason Dixon Tactical

Keyboard Alert!
If you read the linked cautionary tale, you may lose control of ingested beverages! Be warned!

Apparently, MDT found something to play with on the 'net. (Save yourselves! Don't play with it!) And found one of the certified President's Hundred of The Most Retarded LARPers Gone Sociopathic On The Internet.

What more can be said about that other than I guess if Tolkien could think up “The Hobbit” and “The Lord of the Rings”, these imbeciles can play their sovereign citizen BS games and think up all the little things to make them “appear” legitimate. Of course…. “Red Ink Oath”….sounds legit…..  The problem is, we know LotR’s was fantasy, these jokers are serious.

Said @$$clown isn't just stolen valor, but pretty much a walking criminal fraud case, coupled with a legit insanity defense just waiting to happen.

He joined (at the ripe old age of never-served-in-a-real-military-unit 34 -- unless he's being mum about the BCD or psych discharge, for PR purposes) as a private. Mind you, he's so private he's not actually in anything legally constituted. Bootstraps that into a shake-and-bake Looneytenantcy, then skips Kapitan straight to Major Malfunction, stays there for 14 years, and then vaults over Looneytenant Kernel straight to full birdshit popcorn Kernel.

He can do this because he owns the website, and it's all legal (in the cacophony of voices in his head) because he's also the admin of the 4th Continental Congress (which is one of his other websites). When you own Congress, you can be anything, right? How convenient.

This is something to remember when you think about how the nation's going to turn out:
this guy can vote and own weapons.

And he's probably rocking the finest martial offerings made by such worthies as Kel-tec, Hi-Point, and the Bud K catalog.

It took me about 15 minutes to dox him, and get his full name, birthdate, address, e-mail and telephone numbers, failed business information, etc. Gotta love the internet.

I'm sending out some notes for the local D.A., the state AG, the state and county EMS agencies, and probably the CA ARNG and CSMR offices, along with a CC to the folks over at Far Beyond Insanity. Pretty sure his FB shenanigans won't be as funny when he's being chatted up by The Man.

It only took me most of the night and this morning to heal from the pain of laughing myself right out of my chair, and the muscle spasms to my diaphragm.

That should count as PT. Or, if I had a Mulisha, I could award myself a Purple Heart. Or become Grand Admiral of the Afghani Navy, and team captain of the Jamaican Olympic Bobsled Team. Pretty much the same way US Naval Academy plebes get rank on their bathrobes, and steampunk airship commodores get medals and ribbons: i.e. whatever’s on sale in the crafts and sewing departments at Hobby Lobby.

Attention To Articles: One O' These Things Is Not Like The Others

h/t Kenny

Fer them what're still green to the ways o' wisdom, and prone to lubberly dumbassery:

This is a Ship's Surgeon:

These are ye Surgeon's Mates:

These are Masters-at-arms:

The latter are a fine thing fer breakin' up mutinies, crackin' the heads o' those too long in the rum barrel, settlin' quarrels at cantinas ashore, and generally keepin' order below decks,

Mayhap now ye know why they call 'em "beat cops"...

but a poor choice for tendin' to the medical arts. (Ye brighter lanterns o' the crew may have noticed that surgeons don't carry belaying pins in their tool chests.)

They know Jack and Squat about the medicinal arts (an' Jack jumped ship at the last port).
Here be the lesson:

Scuttlebutt

Police officers in Philadelphia said they had to revive a pregnant woman who overdosed twice within just 45 minutes.
The police officers were patrolling Monday night when a passerby told them of an unconscious pregnant woman, according to WLKY.
The officers, who were with the Southeastern Pennsylvania Transportation Authority (SEPTA), gave the woman Narcan, an antidote for opiates, according to WPVI.
It took two doses of Narcan for the woman, who officers believe is around 7 months pregnant, to regain consciousness.

“At that time, the Philadelphia Fire Department came over to the location and she refused their services,” SEPTA Police LT. Michael Fox said to WPVI. “She didn't want to go to the hospital. She didn't want any kind of medical treatment. She got up and left the area.”

 

But 45 minutes later, the officers again saw the woman passed out on a sidewalk, according to TribLive.
This time, paramedics drove her to a local hospital.

Only a swab with ballast fer brains could be surprised by that display of dimwittery.

As ye Ship's Surgeon points out fer yer further edification,

"Only an unlettered jack-a-knapes wouldn't know that Narcan isn't a Magic Cure for a surplus of Morphia, 'tis but a respite for awhile, and the dose must be repeated frequently, even in shore hospitals, as any foole know. Untutored baboons from shore party master-at-arms aren't taught this (which is a failure of training as much as a lack of the brains God gave a seagull), which is why they ought not have given the first dose, or else demanded the ambulance ride on the first occasion. This were not two overdoses by the doxy, but rather one - aided by two idiots masquerading as surgeon's mates and as ignorant o' the medical arts as babes in the woods.

But being no brighter than any other piles of dunnage, they took the word of a opiate-headed doxy over the dictates of common sense.

This is why we don't allow the masters-at-arms to practice medicine and surgery on the hospital deck.

Thus endeth the lesson."

Pay heed, me hearties, and don't mistake Jimmy Legs with his belaying pin for a ruddy medical man o' the likes of ye Ship's Surgeon. Unless ye be inclined to argue th' point at issue with Davy Jones aft'r'ards.

Read more here: http://www.miamiherald.com/news/nation-world/national/article174091471.html#storylink=cpy

The Emwhat?

h/t Irish

So, apparently there was another self-masturbatory Hollywood awards show last night, in which they dissed all of America, and specifically the president. (IOW, business as usual.)
That they simple cut to the chase, and simply award giant golden dildos, either to symbolize what they are, or what they use these awards for, was apparently considered too spot-on some good number of years past. Seeing actors and actresses clutching and waving their big golden dicks would be unseemly, almost as if you'd interviewed them with a hidden camera in private.

Which award would, of course, be nicknamed "the Johnson"

Strangely, the yapping jackholes of cultural decay can't seem to figure why TV audiences are tuning out in droves, and Hollywood had the worst summer in a decade, which is pretty phenomenal for businesses that have only been around 50 and 100 or so years, respectively. It's almost like mouthy liberal jackasses can't connect the dots between their incessant douchebag whining, and people nationwide telling them to f**k off, and voting with their feet, their wallets, and their remotes. Crazy, right? Next, they'll be baffled that rain makes you wet. (Chicken Little, call your agent.)

But Madison Avenue can read a Nielsen report, and TV advertising will be getting to bargain prices at his rate. Especially for the awards shows. The only down side to that is the "stars" will be moving into middle-class neighborhoods again, out of necessity.

Not that it's surprising, because one of the neighbor kids (and yes, an actual kid, and an actual neighbor) has an Emmy Award. I saw it, Googled it, and she earned it. So, in the grand scheme of things, an Emmy is roughly equivalent to the US military's National Defense Service Medal ribbon:

If you have a pulse rate, and are serving while the US is shooting at someone, even if you never do, you get one. Period.

It's about the same with Emmys. It's mainly a participation trophy for being on the boob tube long enough. Just ask Susan Lucci. Or my neighbor's kid.

I can't really blame the mostly college- and high school-dropout asstardian legions in Hollyweird for being antagonistic jackholes, or congratulating each other for all that generally imaginary "suffering" they do for their craft. The number of winners of any award there who have actually rendered services to the country can be accurately measured on your thumbs most years, if not your nose, and some years, even by amputees of all those body parts.

And going on about them as if it's abnormal for two-years olds to throw tantrums, or dogs to piss on fire hydrants, holds those special ed short-bus snowflakes to an impossibly high standard, one that most of them never achieve: rational adult behavior.

For about 99.68% of Hollywood, those three words are between one and three insurmountable achievements they'll never achieve nor be awarded, even by each other.

So before you get over-concerned about TV jerking itself off in public again, remember this inside-the-industry Rule of Thumb, proven every day since Philo Farnsworth inflicted the invention on an unsuspecting culture:

Theatre is life.

Film is art.

Television is furniture.

When you regularly see (need I add "award-winning"?) producers and directors in the medium sporting the exact t-shirts bearing that message, the secret is out, boys and girls.
There's a reason that, until the decadence of the 1920s, most decent folks regarded actors and actresses as circus freaks and prostitutes. The only thing that's changed in most cases is awarding them the opprobrium they deserve.

There's also a reason your TV and mine have both a channel selector, and an on/off switch.
I use them ruthlessly.

I haven't routinely watched broadcast TV as such, in over a decade.
I miss it like trees miss cold in springtime.

This Is How you Punch Back

h/t The Last Tradition

NY Post reports a group of students and parents in Alabama is calling for the removal of arainbow "pride" flag from a high school classroom — arguing that it can be compared to displaying a Confederate flag.

 

“We strongly feel that it creates a hostile and provocative learning environment for students not comfortable to openly supporting the LGBTQ+ community in a public school where students come from diverse political and religious backgrounds," their petition reads about the flag in Auburn.

More than 800 people have signed the petition demanding the flag on display just outside a classroom at Auburn High School be taken down.

Good for them.
Last I looked, no one else in high school is flying a sexual identity flag, so there shouldn't be any special dispensation for some fringe minority. It's got no business being displayed in a public institution of learning.

Run with that. Make the lunatards defend every bit of nonsense, and throw back every beachhead they try to establish. If a Confederate flag, let alone the American flag, is "too controversial", then the LGBTLMNOP flag is certainly in the same prohibited category.

Punch back twice as hard as they do, and don't give them a square inch of safe space, anywhere, anytime. Make them wish they'd kept their mouths shut, and if they came to argue about it, make 'em pack a lunch.

You want a pretty garden, you've gotta keep a weed whacker by the door, and get after it every chance you get.

Couch potatoes need not apply.