Happy Halloween pt. 2

 

All of these are more light-hearted and less scary than the current ongoing three year coup attempt in D.C.

 

The zombies behind that are going to keep pushing until the answer they get is shotgun blasts in the face, and they're going to keep trying for that, because they think they're bulletproof.

 

Happy Halloween pt. 1

Minor Wound Refresher

From Comments:

For your next medkit post, have you ever heard of zipstitch?

https://www.amazon.com/ZipStitch-Laceration-Kit-Surgical-Home/dp/B07KBFVHY6/ref=sr_1_4?hvadid=78477707353483&hvbmt=be&hvdev=c&hvqmt=e&keywords=zipstitch&qid=1572452799&sr=8-4

Be glad to hear your practical thoughts...

PRACTICAL THOUGHTS:

The problem with that kit, like everything else, including the laceration, is multi-fold:

Do you know which lacerations to close, and which to leave open?
Do you know why?
Are you sure that's a lac, and not the evidence of an open fracture?
How would you know that without an X-ray?
Did you clean and debride the wound first, with surgical thoroughness?
How did you do that without any local anesthesia?
What structures underneath the skin were affected/damaged?
Did you repair them correctly? With what?
Would antibiotics be appropriate?
What about tetanus prophylaxis?

The supplies necessary to close a lac, in every ER I've ever worked in, comprise enough material to fill a military-sized footlocker, and 95% of them are RX only.

It is not, ever, one alcohol wipe, one gauze pad, a zip-tie gadget, and a big band-aid.
(As IF.)
Oh, and alcohol on an open cut? Tell Dr. Mengele you said "Hi."
When your patient swings at you, don't forget to duck.

More importantly, you need a Masters-program level Physician Assistant instruction to cover all the medical knowledge and precepted training by board-certified MDs you don't get in that kit. (That's 3-4 years after college, kids.)

Look, I can buy a scalpel online; it doesn't mean I'm therefore a qualified surgeon.
Any more than buying a Formula car means you can drive a race in F1, or buying a jet makes you a Commercial Air Transport Pilot.

Any fool can close a wound. And has.
The mark of a medical professional is knowing the other 50 considerations are for when to do it, when not to, how to go about it in either case, and what else to worry about.
Screw it up, just once, and you could cost your patient normal function, a digit, a limb, or even their life, in a week or two. There are seldom do-overs if you fuck it up. Doubly so if you're doing it on the cheap, at home.

Gangrene and tetanus aren't funny, and learning on the first 20 patients you maim or kill is unethical in the best (for you) cases, and criminal in the worst cases.

If you want to learn what you're intending to do, and then get the toys, go ahead on.

For everyone else, first aid consists of betadine and saline (or at least clean tap water), hemorrhage control, and a dry sterile dressing, possibly non-stick nearest the injury site. Then accessing definitive care from someone with the tools, training, and knowledge to know what to do next.

Will that kit work?
Yes.
It will close small wounds.
Which is exactly the problem.

Should any idiot buy it?
No way in hell.
Unless the patient is someone you won't miss if/when you cripple or kill them.

You can close wounds with staples, medical sutures, Derma-Bond (or the non-medical Krazy Glue, which is not "the same thing"), or with ordinary thread, fishing line, spider web, barbed wire, and twenty other field expedients. Just like ranchers do with cattle. It might even work, some of the time.
For some values of the word "work".

People, however, are not beef on the hoof, and if they subsequently die, you cannot eat your mistakes for dinner.

As a general rule of thumb, for anything but scratches and extremely minor cuts, laymen (and that includes me, with only 25 years' nursing experience) closing wounds that need surgical closure, without all the training, and all the tools, is a very bad idea, with a poor prognosis. Proper medical treatment under first-world conditions has about a .998 batting average. You will not do that well free-lancing it, I promise you. You may get lucky a few times. In dire circumstances, and less-than-ideal conditions, you can expect to have patients die. For relatively minor wounds in the First World, that ceased to be acceptable any time in the last 70 years or so.

Stick with what you know how to do.
If you're highly motivated, learn how to do better.
But simply buying a gadget or some gear isn't that.

Planetary Intelligence Is A Constant; Population Is Increasing

h/t Kenny

Behold, the dangers of listening to the horseshit they put in the Washington Compost, and mistaking it for factual information:

Falls remain the leading cause of fatal and nonfatal injuries for older Americans. Hospitals face financial penalties when they occur. Nurses and aides get blamed or reprimanded if a patient under their supervision hits the ground.

But hospitals have become so overzealous in fall prevention that they are producing an “epidemic of immobility,” experts say.

This is easily solved.

Waive all your rights to sue in case of a fall, accept full responsibility for all injury and damages in writing, including to any other parties, and consent to binding arbitration with capped damages, and we can talk.

Refuse, and you're full of shit, and your ass can stay in the wheelchair, or in the bed with the siderails up. Once you're back in your house, you can play by any rules you damned well please, as it should be, okay? But in my house, it's my rules. Fair is fair.

If you make it past that hurdle (literally) we can talk about mandatory drug and alcohol testing (because people lie, pretty much 75% of the time, about that), and about how many people got to the hospital because they fell at home in the first place, and were too stubborn and stupid to use things like a light switch, their eyeglasses, walkers, canes, crutches, etc., and are now lined up for a shiny new titanium hip to replace their new three-piece femur, because they had to get to the bathroom right this minute, in the dark.

Last night's genius wanted to be released, despite being drunk at 3-4X the legal limit, and not able to recollect how he ended up on his face in the street, right up until the CT revealed he had a major brain bleed. Pull the other one, Einstein, it has bells on it.

I had one lady, brought in because she was too weak to get up for seven hours after a fall at home, tell me she was leaving. I told her to go ahead. And waited. And waited. She could barely raise her voice, let alone her body.

Look, I get that it's frustrating when your 60-, 70-, or 80-year old body doesn't act like it does in your still-18-year-old head. But it isn't my job to mollycoddle your weak grasp on reality. It is my job to make sure I don't have to explain - or lose my license and livelihood - for why you're on the floor of your room on your ass, especially when you're frail, feeble, confused, broken, or on narcotic medications. If you could do Gene Kelly's "Singin' In The Rain" with full choreography, you wouldn't be in the hospital, now would you, smartypants?

This is on my bucket list. But not as a patient in the hospital.

"Patients are idiots" should be carved in stone above the hospital front door, because they won't let me wear a button that says DLTDHYITAOYWO. (I'll help out: "Don't Let The Door Hit You..." work the rest out yourself.)

And hockey pants with pads, and crash helmets should be mandatory attire after age 70.
You tell me which is sillier; dressing that way, or those neat-o zipper scars on your hips, and 6-9 months of OT/PT learning to walk again in your 70s and 80s. If you don't fail, stay in the hospital endlessly, get pneumonia and twenty other opportunistic infections, and then just die.
Because in case you didn't notice, you don't bounce as well as you did when you were five or ten years old.

When someone tells me that 98% of tort lawyers are literally dying of starvation due to lack of business, then we can talk about "overzealous" fall prevention from the medical professions.

Until then, it's crybabies wanting to have it both ways. If you don't like being group punished (and sorry about that, but make no mistake, you are) for the 25% of people (minimum) who're just conniving weasels and outright morons, punch them in the throat in the waiting room, and then go burn their ambulance-chasing lawyers' offices and homes.

But thanks for the entertainment.

You'll win this argument when pigs fly outta your butt.

I truly enjoy taking care of people, and I want each and every one of them to go home and enjoy life as near to whole as human wisdom and the medical arts can make possible. Even when they're not smart enough to figure out that I'm going to act in their best interest, even (especially) if it pisses them off or spoils their plans right this minute. Me and my coworkers easing off for ten seconds can turn into 5 years of court appearances, and six-figure damages. Or someone dying.

Alongside that consideration, someone's momentary butthurt is not a medical complaint, it's a character flaw for them to work out on their own.


Don't like hospital rules? Don't get sick, injured, or old. (As if, but that's the truth of it.)
No one's going to come to your house to enforce them on you. Problem solved.

Sunday Music: Dead Man's Party

 

 

Simple fun for Halloween season.

Here There Be Morons

There's no picture for today's post, because you never have a camera handy when you really need it. So today, you're going to use your imagination (assisted by my Paint skills) to supply the shot I don't have.

Onboard Marine Corps Base Camp Pendleton, there are the rifle ranges familiar to everyone in the Corps on the West Coast, at Edson Range. The entire complex sits right next to Interstate 5, across from the relatively new USN LCAC facility. You can see acres of rifle ranges from the freeway if you know where you're looking for them, and nearer the interstate, multiple barracks used by countless recruit platoons on their three-week pilgrimage from MCRD San Diego for rifle training. And even closer to the freeway than that, sits the massive mess hall, to feed those recruits three squares a day during their range weeks. Around that mess hall on one side is a huge cement patio, for recruit platoons to form up on as their members finish their meals. It's surrounded by an even bigger swath of lawn, all within eyesight of the freeway as well.

And right at the border between cement and grass, there sits a wooden sign, about 4' tall, on a 2' square board, all painted in classic USMC scarlet. On it, in 1"-2" high brilliantly contrasting gold, are military stencil letters, with a blisteringly simple message, and that message is the illustration for today's post, as the photograph I never got to take:

I didn't need to pull down heat from the drill instructors when I saw this sign, by asking them why such a sign would be necessary. I knew why, without ever being told (as does anyone who ever spent five seconds in any branch of the military. Even the Air Farce or the Notional Guard):

The sign was there, out in front of God and everybody, because at least once - and probably more than that - some total fuckwit had been standing at ease waiting to get marched back to barracks, and decided out on the concrete at the edge of the lawn, a couple of hundred yards from a busy interstate, that the perfect place to make a head call (that's Marine lingo for relieving one's bladder) was - of course! - right out there at the grassy boundary of the lawn, in plain sight of not just the entire passing conga lines of traffic, but in front of a veritable glass wall of windows of the mess hall, with every officer and drill instructor in plain sight sitting on the other side to keep an eye on you. And at least once, someone had done so.

Your imagination's wildest dreams of the ass-chewing that followed cannot begin to conjure the retribution visited on Pvt. Dipshit at that point, but not least among the several consequences to the event was the creation of the aforementioned sign, as sure as apples fall off apples trees.

The lesson, gentle readers, is thus:
When you see a sign like that, you have discovered the boundary between people with common sense, and where begins the territory inhabited by thorough-going fucktards.
And those fucktards are legion.

It's true in basic training in the military, and it's true in the rest of the world.
I could offer dozens of everyday non-military examples, but just two more will suffice:

Remove shirt before ironing.

Warning: wearing cape does not enable user to fly.

Whenever you encounter boilerplate warning designed for people with mid double-digit IQs, you have discovered how many fuckwit minions live and move amongst you every day.

No one asks why these warning are there, because like me in boot camp, they know why without being told:
Because we suffer morons daily, and have to mollycoddle them, lest they injure themselves, and then sue, or do any thousand and one idiotic acts, then act all surprised when gravity works.

Coffee at McDonald's that's hot. (Who knew??)
Notes on silica gel packets (and now Tide Pods) that say: Do Not Eat.
The "bible" of instructions for the terminally stupid engraved on the barrel of every Ruger firearm.
And on and on.

And when, perchance, you decide that the local walk-up window is a good place to carry your battle rifle inside city limits, but outside the bounds of the common sense of even ordinary morons, you invite government, in its ham-fisted way, to put up another "Do Not Urinate Here" sign. Like they will, and like they do. Blame asshole parents, a public education system that would embarrass Neanderthals, and people with the manners of billy goats who were raised on a womb bill of fare of fetal alcohol syndrome and a steady pre-teen diet of lead paint chips, and being dropped on their heads multiple times before hitting third grade.

But for whatever reason, stupid people breed, usually far out of proportion to the non-jackassical, and even rampant Darwinism in action can't kill them fast enough to keep the mean IQ of the human race in the low triple digits, hardly anywhere.

So laws like the one mentioned yesterday aren't the slippery slope you imagine, they are, in fact, the efforts of the middling bright (which is government on its best day, as anyone who's seen it close-up can testify) to erect, not a slippery slope, but a steep cliff warning to demarcate the line between the sensible and the egregiously stupid. And people still fall over the edge daily. Sometimes, hourly.

One of maybe 100,000 Fail videos available on YouTube,

 besides thousands of hours of the TV show COPS.

Yes, government, given sunlight and water, like all weeds, will metastasize, but let's be fair here: so will stupid people.

Don't believe me: go to any public restroom. Or day care playroom. Or the movies. Or any public highway.

You wanna bitch about your rights? Start by telling me what responsibilities those rights carry.

The Second Amendment conveys no rights, and revoking it outright changes but one thing: the recognition that some rights pre-date all written law, and the duty of government is only legitimate when it protects those natural law rights.

But left unwritten, and no less valid, is the natural law right that you don't get to use your rights as an excuse to be a jackass in public with them. You can swing your fist, but only as far as the next person's nose. And if you do it often enough, even if you stop short, swinging right up to the edge of someone else's nose is going to get you decked, for cause. More so, from mores more ancient than Philadelphia in 1787, where women and children are concerned.

So before someone starts blathering about how this law or that law is a foul, horrific exercise in eventually loading you into a boxcar and fluoridating your drinking water, let's maybe start out by recognizing that letting the biggest morons in society loose and free, and letting them define the boundaries of intelligent behavior, is more than a little bit to blame for the 40 shelf-yards of legal code and regulations you've lived under your entire life in a nominally "free" country.

No, we shouldn't need 39.99998 yards of that law, and we can all wish it weren't so, but over there, at the boundary of society between grass and concrete patio, there's some fucktard making a large wet yellow spot, and screwing it up for everybody, and three chances out of five, it's your own Cousin Dipshit with his tackle out, providing the precise excuse for that sign.

Own that, stop arguing theoretical hypothetical cases where all men are rational and moral, and start living in the real world where they're the exact irrational fuckwits we meet 24/7/365 in the real world.

Then we can talk.

Start with two competing thoughts, both absolutely and equally true:


"Our Constitution was made only for a moral and religious people. It is wholly inadequate to the government of any other." - John Adams

Our country's Founders knew the absolute truth of both thoughts, and that's precisely why our Constitution took the form it did.
Bear that in mind before you present some ersatz hagiographized version of it as reality.
You're wrong, and you'll just piss off people brighter than you are, for trying.

Play Stupid Games...

h/t Miguel

SB634 - Fishing With Ar-15 Verbotten

It's Florida, so this one will probably be defeated.
Probably.
This time.

But the fact that it was submitted, and it's got a chance at all, is directly traceable to the fucktards who decided that just because they could sling an AR-15 to go to the pier, or the mall, that they therefore ought to.

O! If only someone had told them, in blisteringly simple language, that despite being within the limits of the law, they were still being public fuckwits, and far beyond the bounds of common sense for doing this.

Oh, wait, they did.

About ten times, on multiple sites, from all over the country.
(We've seen this exact asshattery here in Califrutopia, firsthand, and it is assuredly a great way to unite everyone against your position, every single time. If someone wants to stop the three-decade CCW and Open Carry bandwagon nationwide, this nonsense is just the way to do it.)

The Open Carry-tards couldn't put their fingers in their ears and go "La La La!" fast enough to ignore those warnings, and their head cheerleader is still in total denial that rights bring responsibilities, and that chief among those is common sense, specifically by not being a jackass in public. That's always its own reward. Laws like this are just icing on that shitcake.

So maybe, hopefully, they duck a bullet this time.
Instead of punishing everyone in the state for the over-the-top stupidity of a dumbass few.

But it will be back.

Until it passes.
(Maybe locals might have noticed how nicely FL - and TX - are purpling up? Nah, too much like thinking there.)

Exactly as we warned.

Chances of anyone who thought rifle-toting to get a burger was smart saying "Gee, maybe we've been stepping all over our dicks, and should re-think our silly antics...": 0%. 

You don't like more stupid gun control laws?
This is how you get more stupid gun control laws.

ROWYBS.

But maybe, stop attracting your dumbest folks to publicity like moths to the flame with this idiocy, and making them your de facto spokesholes every time they cleat their own junk.
And then post their antics on YouTube.

Just a thought...

Free Pluto!

h/t Daily Timewaster

Denny Wilson Has Won The Internet For Today

h/t Grouchy Old Cripple

Beverage Alert!

What In Blistering F#&%???



Two innocent men who are about to get very rich because of six letters.

(FUCKTARDIA CT) Two white UConn students have been arrested by campus police for repeatedly shouting a racial slur outside students’ apartments earlier this month.

The incident was captured on a now-viral video that has led to pointed conversations about racial inclusion on campus and sparked a rally Monday afternoon during which hundreds of students and the campus NAACP demanding action from top school officials. 

Jarred Karal, of Plainville, and Ryan Mucaj, of Granby, both 21 years old, were arrested by the UConn Police Department and charged with ridicule on account of creed, religion, color, denomination, nationality or race, university spokeswoman Stephanie Reitz said Monday night. 

Officers investigating the incident watched the video of the men yelling late on Oct. 11 outside the Charter Oak Apartments and ultimately traced their whereabouts back through the night, determining they walked back through the complex playing “a game in which they yelled vulgar words,” according to a police report.

For the monumental jackholes at U Conn, especially the so-called UConn police fuckwits who should bloody well have known better, and any Common Core grads in the audience, a remedial Constitutional lesson:

Congress shall make no law...abridging the freedom of speech... - Amendment I, U.S. Constitution, 1787

All persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the state wherein they reside. No state shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any state deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws. - Amendment XIV, §1, U.S. Constitution, 1868

This means, in short that the state of Connecticut, including through its state-sponsored university, may not abridge the First Amendment right of free expression to
anyone under or within its jurisdiction, ever, anytime, for any reason.

This means the charges filed are moot, the statute(s) under which said students were arrested is moot, their arrests constitute false arrest, false imprisonment, and kidnapping under color of authority; and every action subsequently taken by anyone in any position, from the Chancellor of the University to the superior court judge in this case and down to the janitor in the men's gymnasium, constitutes an entirely prima facie deprivation of constitutional rights.

The two fuckwits involved have just been handed at minimum an 8-figure civil lawsuit payday (which should be assessed to the officers of the university, not the taxpayers of CT), free tuition through post-doctoral level at U Conn, a written apology from all concerned, a cease-and-desist order that's liable to be stamped by a federal appeals court, at minimum, and full-fledged civil rights Constitutional law martyr status never even achieved by Martin Luther King, Jr.

In short, while it may not be physically healthy, depending on the mob present, to do so, if you want to secure a first-rate free college education for your child at U Conn, and a lifetime salary for doing nothing else, simply have them walk through the parking lots yelling "NIGGERS! NIGGERS! NIGGERS!" until the Keystone Klown Kops of U. Konnecticut show up and arrest them for something that cannot ever be an arrestable offense in the United States.

In general, using the N-word identifies the user as socially inept, boorish, and ill-mannered, (but not always:)

...and such behavior is generally its own reward in normal society, outside of certain entertainment occupations.

But the Nazis at UConn trying to criminalize protected free speech in this manner is beyond chilling, it's positively arctic, Orwellian, and jackassical to a degree previously only seen from the more unhinged members of Antifa, or Democrats in the Congress (but I repeat myself).

The imbecilic fuckwits working as UConn mall cops should have known that without being told. The university officialdom can be forgiven, since most of them are functioning high-grade morons. It's about to get visited on them in ways that will end in a lot of zeroes.

And if true justice were visited, the U.S. Attorney thereabouts would arrest the entire state board of directors of the University, the president and dean of students, and the entire UConn police force, for criminal constitutional violations and conspiracy to commit same.

I hope the morons who tried to pass and enforce this get the judicial ass-reaming they richly deserve for this kind of horseshit, and if they persist, they need summary judgment by shotguns in the face, just to drive the point well home.

You don't get to criminalize getting your feelings hurt, and you don't get to arrest people for hurting someone's feelings.

Ever.

That includes the entitled niggers at U Conn.
(Don't like that language? Don't mob up with that tribe.)
It also covers limeys, micks, wops, krauts, yids, kikes, chinks, gooks, crackers, redskins, fags, queers, and any other perpetually offended group here that think that their feelings deserve some special unconstitutional protection.
They do not.
Sticks and stones, bitchez.
Any "ridicule on account of creed, religion, color, denomination, nationality or race" is PRECISELY what you can have no say about in law in this country, at any level beyond your living room.
Trying to make it a crime is, itself, a crime.

Grow a thicker skin, and a bigger brain, and crack a friggin' book.
You could look this up. It's not hard to find.

And shove your special snowflake perpetual offense status right the fuck back up your own ass, from whence you pulled it, and pound it home with a steel pipe lest it get loose again, because no one, starting with the law of the land, gives a flying fuck about your pwecious feeeeeeeeewings.

Sunday Music: Fool Moon Fire

Walter Egan hit the big time in 1978, with his soft rock Top 10 hit Magnet and Steel, featuring as his back-up singers the album's (and his previous debut album) co-producers, Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nicks (There's that common theme again.) Much later, Egan revealed the song was about his never-requited infatuation with Stevie. Can't blame a guy for wishing.

But Egan was far from being a one-trick pony, as today's forgotten rock gem (made the Hot 100, but didn't quite crack the Top 40) from 1983 shows, in this case, with a great music video (back when MTV played music videos), that was the lyrics' front-story/back-story, and fairly clever for the era, shot on a credit-card budget, along with a killer guitar intro the equal of anything Chuck Berry ever cranked out, this time in a rock and roll song once again totally appropriate for this time of year.

The Net IQ of Congress Just Went Up Ten Points

Race-baiting communist, babbling drooler on countless news clips, and poster child for everything wrong with Baltimorons, Rep. Elijah Cummings is dead, unfortunately about 40 years late to do anyone any real good.

This will leave a momentary vacancy on a few House committees, but with the current surplus of lackwits available on the Democrat bench, that won't last long.

We regret we won't be able to attend the funeral, but we're looking forward to sending the happily former congressweasel's office a nice note today, expressing our full approval of the occasion.

R.I.H., race-hustling shitweasel. I feel sorry for your family, mainly for them being related to you.

Beyond The Pale

I'm informed by the media that shortly after this indecorous outburst, Alzheimer's Nancy walked out of the meeting. Unfortunately not from shame.

I observe FTR that had this sort of horseshit occurred in the Jed Bartlet White House on The Left Wing, President Bartlet's response would have been,

"Madame Speaker, you can sit down and put that finger back in your mouth, or I can have the Secret Service Police throw you out of the building. You're a guest here, not the resident, let alone the President, and if you cannot conduct yourself appropriately, we can conduct a manners lesson that'll see you bouncing off the steps on your way to the sidewalk. Now sit your ass down before I come around the table and throw you out the door myself."

Pity President Trump didn't get the chance to deliver the same message.
With any luck, he'll just turn around and do the same finger pointing at the next five States of the Union. (Or, with any luck, just the next one, before Madame Lunatic becomes the House Minority Leader again, and then retires to join Shrillary at the chardonnay table for three bottles a day.)

Pelosi needs to be put in a home with soft walls. She's clearly lost her fucking tiny mind, and it was never much to begin with.

Breaking News From ABC...

h/t Stilton Jarlsberg

Just obtained the latest ABC footage from Turkey's assault on the Kurdish cities there:

Just spitballing here, but I think those Turkish war oliphants are going to play hell with that Kurdish cavalry.

They followed that with what they identified as B-roll shots of an NRA meeting where Trump was mentioned:

Next up was a story from the southern border, about a citizens' militia trying to stop illegal border crossings:

They closed with a live interview with Bernie Sanders, showing the news crew how he's feeling after his heart attack and cardiac stent:

After that, they broke for commercials, which didn't use to be the most honest part of the broadcast. I couldn't take any more, so I turned the idiot box off before they came back with the second half.



You should all bear well in mind the old entertainment industry adage (seen on more than a few crew members' T-shirts), which contains quite a bit of raw truth:

Theater is life.

Film is art.

Television is furniture.

Thanks, But...

Project Veritas and James O'Keefe are national treasures, certainly.
And getting insider video of CNN openly putting the "ass" in "enemy asset" is pure gold.

But there's a wee problem.

Y'see, yuuuuuuge swaths of the country have known that not just CNN, but ABCNNBCBS et al were all enemy assets, totally penetrated, since so long ago it was known as the Clinton News Network.

So while the hundreds of hours of insider whistleblowing video now are nice to see, to confirm what we've known all along, the bigger point is we've known it for nearly thirty years. People who figured this out in their late 20s, when Fat Bill was just a former Arkansas governor with aspirations, are now old enough to qualify for senior meal discounts at Denny's.

It's not earthshattering, and it's barely news, even putting the whole sordid spectacle out for everyone to see.

The thing of it is, what we're up for now - or maybe it's just me - is seeing an angry mob smash in the front windows of CNN corporate HQ, sack the building, beat the employees out the door with whips made of cords, and then set the whole goddam communist edifice on fire, and walk away singing party songs afterwards.

Pour encourager les autres.

We want someone to crazy glue a football to Jeff Zucker's hands, and then livestream it as an entire college defensive backfield sacks him. Over and over. Say about 300 times in a row, give or take a few either way.

We want to see Jim Acosta, Don Lemon, Anderson Cooper, and their fellow quislings walking down the street, and suddenly getting rabbit-punched by bystanders, as "What's the frequency, Kenneth?" is shouted into their bloody and swelling pummeled faces. Hell, I'd buy that on disc just for the nostalgia factor in a generation: The Day The News Got What Was Coming To It. They've been kicking America in the crotch nightly for years, decades even; it's way overdue for America to administer a little payback.

Dulce et decorum est.

So James and Project Veritas folks, thanks, and keep up the good work, but target identification, or even confirmation, isn't what it would have been if this were still December of 2016.

We're so far past that now, it's like coming up with the decoded Japanese plans to attack Pearl Harbor, and putting them in the newspaper. In January of 1945.

What's called for at this stage is more like target eradication.
What we want is to see the other side stomped into small pieces.
We want their institutions as firebombed and gutted as Tokyo was. And only part of me would want to add "metaphorically" to that sentence. They've had it coming for a long time, and betting against the party with a memory like an elephant is a poor percentage wager.

We know who the enemy is, we know what they've been up to, and we're a wee bit past "gotcha" games.

What we want is simple.

We want to crush our enemies.
See them driven before us.
Hear the lamentation of their women.
(That's a trick item, since all of them are women, even their "men".)

Because that's what is best in life. At least it is the way things stand now.

We've been patient, and we've been good.
And Christmas is coming, so figuring out what's in our letter to Santa this year isn't that tough.

When the Democratic presidential debates are put on indefinite hold, and the House of Representatives can't make a quorum because of convoys of arrestees carted off in the first sweeps, you'll know we're on the right track.

And if the system can't get that right, it's part of the problem, not the solution to it, and things are likely going to get sorted out in real time, and a good deal more kinetically than one might normally hope.

I leave the closing thoughts to two icons of the Left:

Given who it is that's pointing the cameras, now you know why.

Another Douchebadge Homicide

h/ts to Kenny and Miguel

Q: When does an open front door on one's own house justify the death penalty?
A: When you're black, it's 2:30AM, and you live (for the moment) in Foat Wuth.

Well played, Officer Friendly. Another murdered citizen to chalk up to giving stupid people  guns and badges.

Like DPD assassin Amber Guyger's "accidental" shooting, this is another open and shut case of second degree murder, and nothing less.

It's easily solved: simply notify all citizens in both municipalities that "shoot on sight" works the same both ways, and tell FWPD that any citizen who sees them on the streets may open fire anywhere and any time without warning or any legal penalty, and see how they like it when the law is enforced the same both ways.

Alternatively, take away FWPD's guns and body armor for six months, and let them re-learn how to function as cops instead of killers, starting with a month-long force-wide indoctrination into Peel's Principles.

All of which to start after they fire and prosecute the officer who did this for murder, and discipline everyone involved who knew it but didn't come forward or identify it as such, beginning with their termination.

Either there's one set of laws for everyone, or there's no law at all.

If Fort Worth chooses anarchy, I suspect citizens will fare much better than rogue cops will thereabouts, but it's their choice.

The closest thing to penance Fort Worth could do by way of apology, to mitigate the relations they're about to enjoy, would be to deliver this soon-to-be-ex-officer's head to the mayor on a platter. Literally.
Anything less isn't nearly enough.
But if he were any kind of a man, he'd go home and eat his gun himself, and save everyone else the trouble.

A badge and gun are a heavy responsibility, too heavy for anyone this recklessly stupid, and this was egregious foolishness, graduating to deliberate unlawful homicide, with no excuse or mitigating circumstance whatsoever.

And it starts with thinking your ass is special, and the rules and written law don't apply to you.
He didn't learn that yesterday; this is doubtless an institutional thing, and only draconian measures are ever going to burn it out of the woodwork once and for all.

But in slim mitigation of this murder, FWPD did exactly two things right here:
1) Required their officers to wear body cams.
2) Released the footage immediately.

Now, go on a roll, starting with firing the officer, vacating all criminal and civil immunity for cause, handing him over to the D.A. with a department recommendation for indictment for second-degree murder, and make his partner an accomplice.

Then this will stop being funny to TPTB and the idiots who do it, and become a goddam lot less frequent.

Henry the VIII½th

h/t Daily Timewaster

To Random Mom:
Martha Stewart Overachieving Halloween Costume Achievement: Unlocked!

Bonus props to her daughter, another budding Wednesday Addams.

Sunday Music: Werewolves Of London

One of my favorite earworms, this song is like a potato chip. Once I hear it, I want it 40 times more, one after another. Both a riff off last week's selection, and still apropos to the season (you'll see this material again), this week's choice from 1978 is arguably the best track the far-too-soon-departed Warren Zevon ever laid down (and that's saying something).

And if it sounds somewhat familiar: that's Mick Fleetwood on drums, and the inimitable John McVie laying down that bass line. (And FTR, Kid Rock's sampled stolen copycat version, like all such unoriginal crap, is an abomination to music. Don't even start with me on that.)

Draw blood.

 

The Past Is Another Country

The Golden Age in the Golden State, circa 1958.
Actual service, for 25¢/gallon.
If somebody did this now, even at current prices, they'd be sued for inducing heart attacks in customers, and they couldn't find nine people in 50 states with this kind of work ethic under the age of 40.

It was really like this in America once, kids, every single day.
I saw it with my own eyes.
Weep for what you've lost.


If you prefer, a lighter take from 1963's comedy classic It's A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World:

This Penny Is Going To Drop For You. Get Busy.

h/t Fran Porretto



Don't wait until the last minute to get busy. It might be too late.

This word of wisdom from Ned Ryun at American Greatness:

"So if you’re wondering how all of this stops, how we return to normal, I will tell you what a friend  told me: 'There is no normal. There is only Clausewitz.' There is only absolute and total political war on this axis we face until we beat them into an unconditional surrender. The Left wants it that way because they think they can win. They want no holds barred total political war. Since we can’t escape it, I say we give it to them measure for measure."

RTWT.

For the Common Core grads out there, what is referred to is von Clausewitz' classical maxim:

"War is the continuation of politics, by other means."

 

We note in passing that though von Clausewitz never said so, the reverse is also true:

 

Politics is the continuation of war, by other means.

 

The left has been waging war on this presidency since 11/9/2016.

It doesn't matter that they've been firing blanks for going on 3 years, what matters is that they keep reloading and shooting.

 

We're getting to the point where that's going to have to be answered decisively, and not just with mere ridicule, or a strongly worded rebuke.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Politics is war, and they want to throw out any rules, and go for victory by any means necessary. (In their own innate twisted moral calculus.)
That always leads to real war.

 

Every. Single. Time.

 

The Left is continually playing in the streets. (Where, nota bene, you oughtn't play.)

 

Let them. Nothing happens there of note or import, by and large.

But as has been noted times without counting at WRSA and other sites, if they don't stop their nonsense (and they show no signs of any outbreak of common sense, and in fact are more unhinged now than three years ago, if such is possible) the day is going to come when you're going to have to Rooftop Korean.

Not metaphorically.

Not rhetorically.

As Churchill wryly observed, people who won't change their minds, and won't change the subject, are fanatics.

They suffer from deranged lunacy. It progresses to violence, inevitably, and already has.

Every time they've moved to seize power, in every country, for a hundred years and more.

And if they oppose your vote in the polling booth with their votes on the street, you're going to have to vote from the rooftops, and deal with rabid dogs in the time-honored way.

 

 

 

Wrap your head around that. You may be in for the long haul, or you may be One Shot Paddy, but the day is going to come.

 

Save Oklahoma, there isn't a single state in the republic that was all red in 2016. There are probably no precincts that are, anywhere, from coast to coast. You're not fighting NYFC, Hollyweird, or the DC swamp, nor will you be. They're just logistics and air support. Jam their signal and monkeywrench their efforts, and they no longer get any vote.

 

The people you're going to have to sort out, down and dirty, all live within five to twenty miles of where you're sitting, reading this, right now. Bobby O'Rourke, and the witches on The Spew won't be knocking on your door to take your guns, coerce your support, or haul you to the boxcars, come the day. The people who will are already in place nearby, whether you or they know it now. So you may as well face that fact.

 

Nobody landed at Normandy or Iwo Jima tasked with conquering everyone on the other side. They were simply told to take their 10 ft² of beachhead. And then move forward, and take another 10 ft². All the way to Berlin and Tokyo.

 

Your mission will be to locate, close with and destroy the enemy by maneuver, fire, and close combat. Just like everyone in every infantry back to bands of hominids fighting turf battles thousands of years before anyone thought to write it down.

 

They want the fight that's coming, because they can't out-argue it, they couldn't out-vote it (God Bless You, James Madison et al) and they think they're entitled to rule. Worse, they think they're going to win, by divine right, among other reasons, even if their only deity is their bellies, and whatever hive consciousness passes for their minds.

 

We've beaten fanatics like that, in living memory, but generally, you have to get their attention first.

 

Beware the wrath of patient men.

And then make them understand that the alternative to adopting a new worldview is a few facefuls of dirt. Dealer's choice.

 

Nothing less seems to do the trick.

 

If you're not buying a case of canned goods at the market and the sporting goods store every paycheck, you're doing this wrong.

 

And don't forget to spend the time to learn how to use them.
Tools without training are toys.
You don't need hobbies, you need habits.
Get busy.

Hear, Hear!

h/t Liberty's Torch

Everything goes to sh*t. Literally.

Linda, posting on Fran Porretto's website, linked to an excellent interview of City Journal's Heather MacDonald, talking about the root causes of homelessness.

"On homelessness my argument is simple: You just don’t allow this behavior. That’s the starting point. It’s not compatible with the long-term life of cities. Once you establish that — something that was uncontroversial 50 years ago when the police would move people along, and there was unanimity that if you were in public you would have to meet basic norms of public behavior — then you don’t let people colonize the sidewalks. 

Why is any given city where someone ends up on the street morally obligated to provide housing to that person? Nobody’s ever explained why that is. Say somebody comes from Seattle or Iowa to be homeless in San Francisco. When did San Francisco taxpayers become obligated to provide housing for him?"

Amen.

RTWT.

I'm not a sociologist, anthropologist, or field reporter. I've only taken care of homeless douchebags (and, to be fair, that insults the other 0.5%, to whom I offer my apologies) for a quarter of a century, and my take is identical, and in stronger terms.

People aren't homeless because there aren't homes for them.
Not even in Top Three Most Expensive Cities to live in the U.S. San Franshitco (the other two are NYFC and the District of Corruption, if you were wondering).

People are homeless for several reasons, most of them intertwined like the trunk of a braided ficus tree.

What are those reasons?

1) They're batshit crazy, in ways that, until the mid- to late-1960s, would have seen them happily locked up for life in appropriate facilities in perpetuity. No small number for violent behavior and poor impulse control.

2) The don't take their psych meds for that, because those drugs make them feel "weird". (Normal people call that feeling "sanity", by no coincidence.)

3) They self-medicate with alcohol and drugs, because
   a) it feels great! and
   b) it gets the voices in their head too drunk or stoned to be intelligible for the people with too many personalities in their head already. Genius, right there.

4) Homeless shelters have rules, chiefest among them being no booze or dope, and if the batshit crazy alcohol/drug addicts who are most homeless forever could follow rules, quit alcohol and dope, and act civilized, they could hold down jobs and pay rent or mortgages like everyone not on the streets does since pretty much forever. But they can't, don't, and won't.

5) We've built them a hammock (not a safety net) as wide as the entire state of California to sleep in. Which last world-class stupidity is why they're overwhelmingly here: they drift westward until they hit the Pacific Ocean, and they can't go any farther, coupled with being mollycoddled here for fifty years by jackass do-gooder idiots, and an amenable climate, and voila. A gazillion homeless bums, and stacks of feces and needles as far as the eye can see.

6) Laws preventing this stopped being enforced, due to soft-hearted do-gooders in power, and soft-headed judges ruling that it must be so.

So you'll never solve the homelessness problem by subsidizing them, feeding them, and building them shelter, any more than you'll put out a fire by throwing on more gasoline.

Solving the problem is easy:

I) First offense for vagrancy: six months in a chain gang. In the summer, they'll spread asphalt and fill potholes in the desert. In the winter, they shovel snow on mountain passes. And when it rains, they're out in it picking up trash, filling sandbags, and shoveling mud, 24/7 until the sun comes out. Throw in green bologna sandwiches, MREs, and pink underwear, deny any time off for good behavior, so they do the full 180 days, and you're done.
Second offence: 364 days.
Third offense: Felony, and five years.

It's not funny once, and after twice, they'll leave for good, or stop getting picked up.
And we'll have the smoothest roads and the cleanest streets in the country.

II) Stop feeding them. Unless they work for it. From sunup to sundown. 30-minute breaks for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but not until they've earned each meal. And no money for anything.

III) Anyone too disabled or decrepit to work does drug tests the entire time they're on public assistance. One drunk or drug positive, and they lose benefits for a month. Two times, and they lose a year. Three times, banned from assistance for life. Vagrant as a result? See #I.
If they can't shovel asphalt, they can mix concrete, or serve the meals. Medical exams to document ability or disability. No disability? Pick up a shovel, or starve. Dealer's choice.

IV) Any do-gooder agency or non-profit, religious or not, is free to do whatever they like in terms of food or shelter: on their own premises. Your circus, your monkeys. You feed homeless people, who become a blight on society, and the citizens and municipalities can sue for damages. Everything from public health to crime comes out of your wallet. Just like feeding stray cats that crap in your neighbors' open car.

For an easy and egregious example: There's a bunch of @$$hole simpletons at the nearby Catholic church, who've allowed a dozen homeless to encamp on church property. And have now drawn 200 more to the sidewalks surrounding. Right across the street from families with kids, in homes with a median price of well north of $500K. The city should bill them per person per day for maintaining a nuisance, and when the bill exceeds the property value of the church, the church should be seized and closed, and sold at auction to the highest bidder. 
They should also be liable for damages to homeowners across the street. When you have to pick up after your dog's mess, how can we demand less of do-gooders letting people shit on the streets across from someone else's homes?
Notably, I have yet to see a priest or nun out there shoveling up the shit, or cleaning the sidewalk. Doing it in chains will be good for their souls, I assure you.
Otherwise, like day following night, I predict someone's parents are going to do some high-octane redecorating in the parish one of these days, and the church will deserve it.
Neither priest nor parish want to take those douchebags into their own homes (which would be actually bearing the burden up for which they signed), but they're happy to let their little gaggle of human debris shit and drop dirty drug needles on their church neighbors' lawns week in and week out. Jesus had a thing or two to say about that sort of hypocrisy, and the religious leaders who were the target of that truth crucified him for it.

V) Three times on a psych hold, and you get removed from society in perpetuity.
One violent offense, where any injuries occur, same deal.
Off to Shutter Island, for life.
If someone is too crazy to live peaceably, they're too crazy to be in society.
This isn't hard to understand.
(Califrutopia has a number of suitable large offshore islands inhabited only by goats.) They're too far to swim from, the water temp would kill any attempt, and there are no trees to make rafts or canoes. Once they get dropped there, they stay there. In perpetuity. No rules. They can run around naked, chase butterflies, weave baskets, jump off the cliffs, or drown: IDGAF. Fly over and kick out crates of meals once a week or once a month. Do a health clinic monthly. No limits on charity and supply shipments in. But the days of meth-head batshit crazy people running in traffic, attacking people, shooting up drugs, and shitting everywhere, while decent folks are locked behind barred windows, are over. Families are free to care for relatives themselves, or they can be put back into mental hospitals until they get better (which, in  every case, is never). But three times when you've gone so barking mad that it becomes an issue for the authorities, and your free-to-roam-in-society privilege is revoked for life. No more bullshit. Gone.

VI) And any doctor or judge, or both, opining or ruling a formerly insane person is now sane, is automatically obligated to take in such person in their own home, for a year each, before they are set at liberty in society.
Skin in the game, bitches. If they're not sane enough to sleep down the hall from you, they're not sane enough to set loose in my neighborhood either, are they??

VII) Any judge at any level ruling against this in any respect gets a homeless shelter erected next door to his/her house, by law, and 100 homeless residents, and billed for all the blowback that follows. (That's assuming they survive the tar-and-featherings - or worse - that will inevitably follow, courtesy of their friends and immediate neighbors. The natural check and balance on a rogue judiciary was always meant to be The People, and not just in the jury box. The black-robed assholes who think they're immune to the consequences of their rulings are going to find out what that looks like, good and hard, if they don't wise up pretty damned quick.)

The cost of all this? A literal fraction of what we squander annually mollycoddling illegal aliens, the violent insane, drug addicts, drunks, and various other wastes of skin from 49 other states, 7 territories, and 191 other countries. Any country that bitches whines or moans about this treatment gets ALL of their native fuckups back, in one lump shipment. At bayonet-point, if necessary. Starting with Mexico. And y'all can have your toothless banjo-playing kinfolk the same way. Freight trains run both ways, and it's past time you got your relatives back and owned up to your responsibilities.

None of that will ever happen here under the current lunatics running the asylum, so it's likelier that when the common working-class people have finally had enough, there'll be a renaissance of Committees of Vigilance, and a Purge.

I'm okay with that too, but I'd rather do this non-violently, and lawfully.

One way or another, though, it's going to happen, because Califrutopia is so far past broke we can't even see it in the rear-view mirror with a telescope, and what cannot continue, will not. People foolishly think cities will shrivel up and die when that happens, contrary to all evidence from written history.

No, it won't be like that, but the stacks of corpses of the lumpenproletariat who'll stoke the bonfires will be visible for miles, come the day. And any "homeless advocates" are likely to end up on the same pyre, without a second thought.

And the Grapes of Wrath is going to take on a whole new meaning when the vintage comes ripe for bottling. Mark my words.