Trump Indicted by Chiquitastan DoJ

¡Viva Chiquitastan!

This is my shocked face.

Analysis from CTH:

♦ THE TELL – Here’s the “tell” that every pundit, analyst and litigation expert will pretend they don’t notice.  It’s the funniest part of the entire thing and yet no one, again except us, is noticing it.  The DOJ has already predicated the baseline of their claim by saying they cannot tell anyone, even the court, what the nature of the documents are that underpin their assertion.  Remember, they wouldn’t even let a court appointed “special master” review the documents.

Stop and think about that for a moment.  NO ONE knows what the documents are, and the DOJ has stated they will never say what the documents are.  The DOJ is filing a case about the mishandling of documents, in whatever legal construct they put forth, while simultaneously saying they are under no obligation to tell anyone what the documents are.

DOJ: Trump violated USC 793 in his discussion and/or handling of documents.

Trump Lawyers: What documents?

DOJ: We can’t say, and we won’t tell you.

This kind of blatant pseudo-lawfare bullshit usually only happens in Turd World banana republics. 

Even if he's acquitted, 

The process is the punishment. Exactly as intended.

You now live in full-on unmitigated Chiquitastan, beyond any rational disputation.

You can knuckle under and look the other way.

Otherwise, people who've had enough are going to have fight it.

Physically. With bullets launched in malice.

Best wishes with interesting times ahead.

TPTB won't let you.
They're making that excruciatingly clear and obvious.

Inevitably, Tragedy Descends Into Farce

h/t McThag 

Better still: By next week, it'll be up to 118%.

Adeus, linda...

 h/t Evil Blogger Lady

We note with a twinge of sadness the passing of Astrud Gilberto, at 83, one-hit wonder from a singer who wasn't, famed for the perfect ethereal melancholy vocal on The Girl From Ipanema, which bossa nova/jazz track we profiled as a Sunday Music pick way back in February 2020. Plucked at the last minute as she, the bandleader's wife, was the only Brazilian handy in the studio who spoke English well enough to do an English-language version of the song, she received all of $120 for her work on that record. Which hit #1 in 1963, and got Stan Getz the first jazz album to ever win a Grammy as Album Of The Year.

Which always deserves another listen from 24-year old Astrud back in the day:

Don't Worry. Be Happy.

Alt History

 

Barrett .50 Range Report

Head on over to Commander Zero's blog for the details.

$4/round will do that to ya.

Interesting Times - New Terrorism Milestone: Achievement Unlocked

This little stunt should endear Russia to the world community for another century or so.

Looks like somebody in Moscow decided he had nothing left to lose.

Just a hunch, but I'd bet cash money serious discussions are happening in quiet SCIFs about the possibility of handing nuclear weapons to Zelensky to use at his discretion. It may never happen (one would hope not), but you can bet it's being talked about.

Just saying: This download may come in handy. Your call.

Photo Ops Inbound

Pro Tip: Be the photog. Not the subject.
Picture Day is coming soon.

To The Class of 2023

 

We have, on multiple occasions, commended to you the humanitarian works of YouTube engineer Mark Rober, the man who has annually perfected the porch pirate Glitter Bomb, and has entertained literal millions by testing the ingenuity of his backyard tree rats, devising ever better squirrel mazes for them to conquer.

This year, MIT chose him as their commencement speaker, and his speech does not disappoint. Frankly, it's better and more useful than any number of attempts by more serious speakers.

Enjoy.

Sunday Music: Simply Irresistable

 

Robert Palmer's #2 1988 song and video, which concluded a rock trilogy that started with 1979's "Bad Case Of Loving you" and 1985's "Addicted To Love" (a previous Sunday Music featured selection), the latter of which is the most imitated and/or referenced music video of all time, by all discernible standards.

Break YouTube

 "Ridicule is man's most potent weapon." - Saul Alinsky, Rules For Radicals

Dear Boutique Tar-Gay,

Congrats on becoming the 2023 exemplar of United Breaks Guitars, served with a six-pack chaser of Butt Light (NYSE value: worthless).  And as usual, you can't buy this kind of business-crashing negative publicity. It always comes to the recipient absolutely free, and overly well-deserved. Braindead Tone-deaf Stupidity: Achievement Unlocked!

You idiots are no exception, and equally clueless how you managed to pour gasoline in your own lap, and then try to stub out a lit road flare with your crotch. Bravely done, mega-morons. Your entry into Jackass: Billionaire Corporate Retard Version is accepted with pleasure. Let the games begin!

The bleeding will stop the minute you stop trying to shoot your own dicks off. Over and over and over. And then make a humble and sincere apology for screwing things up so royally, on behalf of a demographically microscopic group of freaks and mental health cripples, and stop! Stop! STOP! pimping and pandering their disgusting agenda! (Clever readers will denote a subtle hint there.)

(Montgomery Wards, J.C. Penney, and Sears Roebuck & Co. would like a word with you about what happens to slow learners in the retail game. Or maybe you still have some of your Mervyn's former executives on file somewhere. Have a nice trip; see you next fall.)

Until your executive lackwits heed that advice, it's going to be hilarious watching you set yourselves on fire anew, time and time again. And at least your board of directors can get their ceremonial hockey helmets at an employee discount, before next they venture forth into the world unsupervised by any actual competent adults.

What's next? Hiring Bill Cosby as your next celebutard spokeshole, and dusting off the ad campaign for New Coke™? Maybe call it New Woke!? Genius!!!

Well-played, you corporate (or should that be coprophile?) sh*t-for-brains groomers. Be sure to look both ways before getting thrown under the bus.

"Weeble is DOWN! Weeble is DOWN!"

 

Just another day at the office for doddering senile Emperor Stumblefuck Poopyants. The guy's taken more falls than the Bonano crime family. Gravity is not his friend, and his continued puppet regime constitutes at least 100 counts of elder abuse by those pulling his strings, per day.

WH spokesholes pointed out that the president was checked afterwards, and reported that his mental and physical status remains exactly where it's been for years.

Which is exactly the entire problem.

Take a listen to the pure gibberish he spewed from the podium, which had nothing to do with a sandbag, and everything to do with tapioca where his brain is supposed to be:

He's physically unfit, and mentally borders on retardation. And if you think this bouncing potato got 81M votes from anyone, I've got a bridge for sale, cheap.

Everything he's touched from January 20, 2021 onward is moot and illegitimate, from laws and EOs signed to SCOTUS appointments, and it needs to be repeated until it knocks down the wall of lies surrounding this entire fraudulent kakistocracy.

Counterpoint

from WRSA

Some witless wonder cobbled the above shit-masterpiece out of his underpants with an accompanying pic. (We note FTR that like our posts, everywhere, we sign our memes, unlike this happily anonymous douchebag. We triple-dog dare the gutless wonder who created it to claim it.) And then, WRSA posted it in their daily memedump this morning.

We also pity the inept old 80-IQ lackwit 1950s holdout who thought that was clever, and who yet pines longingly for the days when lunch counters and drinking fountains had "Whites Only" or "Colored" signs, the N-word could be uttered with impunity, and 60-year old men could be called "boy" when they loaded your luggage or shined your shoes, and we look forward to the day when the last living witness of that shameful period of American history is as dead as Jim Crow laws.

We respond on point thusly:

We are second to no one in pointing out that the multi-generational malcontents from among a bare 13% of the population are responsible for a vastly outsized proportion of violent crime in this country (and have been thusly for decades), along with various other corrosive influences on the foundations of the republic, to the point we've said that they should probably be given a final choice of either getting it together and learning to function in civil society, or get shipped back to the continent of their origin once and for all, non-voluntarily. Which would improve the mean IQ of two continents: the sending one, and the receiving one. We weren't speaking rhetorically.

But naked codswallop from the pinnacles of 1950s and early 1960s racism isn't going to get things done, and will only cement the worst aspects of American history as one's calling card in the minds of the unconvinced Normies in the middle. In short, it's like shooting oneself in the dick. Repeatedly. 

You lost that war three times, once in people's minds by 1861, once in 1865 - at gunpoint (your choice), and again by 1965 - again at gunpoint (your choice), to drive the point home for the slow learners. GTF over it.

Don't make us pull this blog over and come back there. You won't like us when we're angry.

And frankly, we all have bigger fish to fry.

You want to shout down the bankruptcy of "diversity"? There are much better ways to do it than using Bull Connor, George Wallace, and Lester Maddox as your shining examples.

Grow a bigger IQ, and take another whack at it that doesn't leave your testicles splatted all over your thigh, Anonymous Jackass.