Friday, May 31, 2024

I'm Winston Wolf, I Solve Problems

As the post title implies, certain niceties come to mind that ought to be addressed.

Anyone at the higher levels of organized crime, or the agencies that investigate it, feel free to share anonymously in Comments, but it seems to me if I were the Mob, or any undertaking (no pun intended) where disposal of inconvenient bodies were problematic, the first thing I'd do would be to move into the mortuary business in a big way, and acquire as many of them as I could.

1) They never go bankrupt, as clientele is an endless supply.

2) The mark-ups for legit business are quite simply recockulous.

3) Having a crew of trusted employees who would and could show up anywhere, any time, 24/7, like the clean-up crew in a John Wick movie, would be a boon to Mob business. For a gold coin (let's call it an ounce, currently around $2500), they dispose of all the evidence to those "in the trade". For anyone inside the family, it's literally on the house.

4) Murder? Not without a body. Evidence? Gone forever. As Stalin noted famously: "No man; no problem." Troublesome people simply disappear, and their faces go on milk cartons. But now, nobody can dime out anyone and tell anyone "where the bodies are buried". Because now, they get sprinkled at sea, flushed down the toilet, scattered to the winds. Whatever.

What happened to Left-Handed Louie?

The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind...

I bring this up not to tell organized crime (and as Ben Kingsley's character observed in Sneakers: "Trust me, Marty, it's not that organized.") how to go about their business, because they doubtless already know it (recall, if you will, Signore Bonasera, whom Don Corleone befriended at his daughter's wedding at the opening of The Godfather - Mario Puzo didn't spin that out of whole cloth), but truth be told, they aren't likely the only ones for whom disposal of certain things is solely their problem.

More proof that this is really a thing, in case you needed it:

For a hint about how certain things are handled "officially" I note for the record that Clint Emerson, Navy SEAL and CIA SAD worker, didn't include this information in his book for nothing, nor did he learn the information presented solely secondhand, through reading classroom materials. This is first-hand knowledge and years of experience talking. Take that to the bank.

And make no mistake, those methods will work. But they're intended as one-time field expedients. If you try thermal burial more than once in your own back yard, even if you live on 100 acres, sooner or later, a neighbor or passerby who's not the same color pin on the map as you is going to see repeated black columns of smoke, realize you're not having a pig roast nor electing a new pope, and call all the wrong people to come chat you up.

All those problems go away with the right excuse, and proper equipment.

While half-way helicopter rides would be satisfying, you need a convenient ocean nearby and hungry sharks and such to make the plan foolproof. In Pinochet's Chile? The country is one continuous coastline. But it isn't going to work, for example, in Nebraska. Mineshafts work, but you're always one sheriff's SAR rappel away from 200 consecutive life terms in the Big House, right?

I don't know what the cost is of the unit above, or what the buy-in is to open or acquire a nominally legit crematorium. But whatever that price, it pales to insignificance compared with the peace of mind that would come from knowing there's never going to be a corpus for some flatfoot to habeus, and thereby change people's retirement plans from white sands to gray bars.

It's less messy than a Morbark, and dead certain. Used judiciously (say an extra body a day), you could eliminate a lot of problems in your local area, completely under the radar.

Which, frankly, would move it right up near the top of the list of Things One Might Wish For if events required a lot of troublemakers to become "no problem".

Of course, that would never happen here, right?

Just saying.

(Addendum: Note the Comments for rural - particularly southern - equivalents, regarding domesticated pigs, feral hogs, and alligators. Al Swearingen and Mr. Wu from Deadwood send their regards.)

Apropos Of Nothing In Particular...

If you think we'd be providing TPTB with an actual picture of our actual holdings
online, in front of God and Everybody, we have a bridge for sale cheap. Bring cash.

This weekend is herewith declared Gun Collection Cleaning Weekend.

Every last one, butts to barrels, including function testing. Normally, we just play with one or two a week, and call it even.

Without getting into details, we could outfit a couple of squads, including LBE, long since.

Our ultimate goal is a full platoon, small arms, sidearms, edged weapons and implements, basic load, and all LBE and field gear. (On the theory that If You Build It, They Will Come.) Even in Califrutopia, it ain't that hard a metric to meet a little bit at a time over the years.

It will be followed by Ammo Inventory Day.

Then Gear Loadout check.

Then we will be inventorying and cataloguing water, food, and medical supplies; then doing Generator, Solar panel, and battery Test Day, Comm Shack, Lights, and NVD Inventory, Kitchen Inventory Day, and finally House and Perimeter Check Day. 

FTR, we've already gotten all vehicles pretty well sorted out, and their basic loads await only a trunk re-pack, and a camper resort day.

Our Area Study was done years ago, and we only update it quarterly. And we know a small but formidable number of like-minded individuals.

Rancho Apocalypto? Maybe in retirement.

More likely, in the short-term: Regional warlord underground. Which is far likelier to be needful anytime in the next decade.

For now, we'll be off to the store presently to get another jug of CLP, and more rags and patches to replace the ones we expect to use up. Posting will be commensurately light this week.

You should probably be about something similar, don't you think?

¡Viva Chiquitastan!

Let us all get serious for a moment.

Today's Star Trial verdict in a kangaroo court says nothing about Donald Trump's guilt or innocence on any laundry list of invented crimes, let alone actual felonies.

When Alan Dershowitz, from the Far Left, visits the trial for one day, and announces afterwards that Judge Clowncarnucopia "committed more reversible errors in the one day I attended than I've seen in my entire legal career", any pretense of this being anything within the bounds of American jurisprudence has not only already sailed, it's already docked on the other side of the ocean.

I had some wisp of a hope that the magnitude of obvious chicanery, subornation of perjury, jackassery, and outright fraud in this trial would enable at least one lone juror to conclude that the best course was to not pull the entire country down in a fit of childish pique. But that was obviously an orphaned expectation, long since. 

(Word to your mother, NYFC: the biggest problem in NYFC on 9/11/01 wasn't two airliners, it's that neither of them had a nuclear weapon on board that they detonated. You're now dead to the rest of the country. I hope I live to see bombers do to you what the 8th Air Force did to Dresden, while you're all sitting in your homes and offices. You've been a blight on this nation for 50 years, but this takes the cake. "Happy is the one who seizes your infants and dashes them against the rocks." May you all, to the last child, get what you deserve, both here, and Hereafter. Hear me, God.)

The meaning of today's verdict is actually quite simple:

The Democrat Party hereby announces that they have formally seceded from the United States Of America.

This announcement, therefore, makes them nothing less, at best, than seditious criminals and rebellious traitors, and as such, liable to hanging or shooting on sight, wherever and whenever found, top to bottom, and coast to coast.

The only open question is not any longer whether there will be an open, shooting civil war, but when it will commence being a range with the firing line fully open in both directions.

That's not an incitement to anyone, nor intended as any such thing; it's merely a statement of facts.

The head of the FBI laid out all the reasons for prosecution, and then looked the other way at a Secretary of State who knowingly committed over 30,000 federal felonies. Hundreds of current and former public officials and intelligence agency senior members lied openly that Hunter Biden's laptop was "Russian disinformation", in the most monstrous case of election interference in American history. Ghislaine Maxwell was convicted of procuring child sex victims to no one, because all the defendants are part of the political system in power.

But to get Trump, they tried and failed at two impeachments, and multiple trials, then stole an election, and to lock it in, finally brought up a made-up case in a Far Leftard venue for misdemeanors multiple persons have testified were committed not by Trump, but by a crooked underling, and which the underling himself told his own lawyer he did without Trump's knowledge nor encouragement, with his own money. Literally, no crime was committed by Trump, beyond any reasonable doubt, the D.A. suborned perjury to tell the jury otherwise, and this case should have been thrown out summarily pro forma the minute the prosecution rested. In fact, it never should nor would have even been tried, had this been anyone but Trump.

Whether the nation rises up as one and purges this rot, or doesn't, there is an immutable Truth smacking us all in the face:

America That Once Was Is 


It didn't die of natural causes. 

The Democratic Party Killed It.

All that remains to be seen, from now going forward, is whether We, the People, have the stones to hold them and their members accountable for the murder, round them up, and begin the mass hangings or shootings on sight such a calculated and treasonous criminal act demands.

If not, this was the moment when we began our irreversible slide into being Amerizuela, with all the trimmings, for years to decades.

You? Do whatever you think is right.

Understand fully that, by casting this under the umbrella of state-sanctioned justice, the Other Side is not the rebellion. 

YOU are. With all that entails.

You may have some narrow respite to finish preparations for what is, inevitably, going to come.

Best do so in some haste.

Neither side is going to get what they like, nor like what they get.

But both now live in Chiquitastan.

Conduct yourselves accordingly.

And as noted in Comments, many of us - no small number - took a certain oath, any number of years ago. When last I looked, it had no expiration date. You may forgive us if we look forward in some mirth at the Other Side's discovery of the depth of meaning in that knowledge.

And would someone please kindly update Claire Wolfe on the following:

It's now time to begin shooting the bastards.

And if not this, what?

If not now, when??

Thursday, May 30, 2024

Ruminate, sil vous plait

Military Axiom #1: When you get a totally jackassical order from a higher-ranking jackass, carry it out to the letter.
Much ado about nothing is being made about the failure and self-destruction of the pier in Gaza.
"It's an outrage!"
"$320M dollars shot to hell!"
"They could f**k up a crowbar in a sandpile!"
And on and on.

Okay, if your blood pressure needs a little jolt now and again, you can stop there.
But you don't have to do that.

Eaton Rapids Joe has one contrarian take, and he's not wrong about any of it, but I'll go even further than that in a minute.

Look, there are a few givens today.

One of them being that neither Emperor Poopypants' nor his entire fraudulent regime could find their own asses with both hands, a map, and a rearview mirror.
Granted, with oak leaf clusters.
Proven ten times a day for three years running.


Work with me for a minute or two.

What happens if we build the damned thing, and it works?

"Humanitarian" aid starts moving into Gaza. A trickle at first, but eventually, a steady flow. Which takes more pressure off of Hamas, and puts more pressure on Israel to stop doing the sensible thing by exterminating this problem for all time, and relenting, yet again, to face it again in a few months or years.

For the Common Core grads, Israel was getting rocketed and shelled from the shreds of the failed state that was Lebanon in the early 1980s. Not their bases. Their people's homes, farms, and schools. Their women and children, FFS.

Finally, having had enough, they sent the Israeli equivalent of Patton's Third Army into southern Lebanon, and cleaned house. 

First, they sent a drone broadcasting electronic "Shoot me! I'm the entire Israeli Air Force!" radar signals flying through the Syrian air defenses erected in the Bekaa Valley to guard the strongholds of a plethora of Arab terrorist camps there. Right behind that drone, they had another few recording live video of all the missile batteries, and more collecting all the frequencies and signals of their search and tracking SAM radars.

The next day, with a complete up-to-the-minute map of those sites, they flew actual planes in and wiped the board clean. With total air supremacy, they sent in tanks and APCs, and used the bodies of countless terrorists there to grease the treads of their tanks, all the way to the harbor in Beirut.

What was left of Yasser Arafat and the PLO was trapped, and screaming for help, and everyone, including their weapon suppliers, sent them back a box of FAFO medals, and their deepest sympathies on their plight.

Then, some jackasses at the U.S. State Department thought Israel killing off the thorns in their side was too one-sided, and convinced Reagan (of all presidents) to swoop in, and interpose US Marines between the two sides.

Yasser Arafat and the PLO fighters still alive were evacuated from Beirut, and taken home to Gaza. Israel sat on their side of the barbed wire, helpless and frustrated, watching the same blood enemies who'd masterminded hundreds of terrorist attacks inside and outside Israel get away yet again.

And by way of thanking us for this magnanimous act, the Marines' ground HQ at the Beirut airport was blown up by a truck bomb (as were the US and French embassies), the Marines there began taking daily shell fire and sniping, and we shelled hillsides in the Lebanese countryside with the 16-inch guns of the USS New Jersey, bombed miscellaneous targets from time to time, and got US troops killed and captured for no good end, until we finally wised up and GTFO of Dodge.

It was an expensive and pointless clusterfuck, and Arafat became the leader of Gaza, beginning to turn it into the tunneled and honeycombed terror base that has plagued Israel for the last 40 years. The only thing that changes there is which terrorist @$$holes they put in charge. Most recently Hamas.

We sent billions in aid to Gaza. We sent them pipe for water systems and wells.
They turned the pipe into homemade rockets, which have been launched at Israel nonstop, every day for decades. (If Mexico had been doing that to San Diego from Tijuana, Baja California would be Mexican-free now, as a permanently annexed US territory, and Mexico's presidential elections for the next 50 years would be held at a conference table in the White House Situation Room, with only members of the National Security Council casting votes.)

Flash forward to last October. Hamas, the current bunch of rabid monkeys in charge of Turd World Shitholia-On-The-Med, decided they were big and bad enough to f**k with an actual first world military and nation like Israel. It hasn't worked out well for them, nor should it. If everyone in Gaza were incinerated to ashes, the other billion or so Arab Muslims would piss and moan for about 15 minutes, until the red lights on the cameras were turned off, then go about their business as before. Presidents and princes from Morocco to Pakistan would weep and gnash their teeth publicly, and then each send Netanyahu a case of champagne apiece and warmest felicitations in private. Some good number would even supply him with more bombs and napalm.

Enter Mr. Sumdum Phuq in DC with a soft head and a soft heart for Hamas and the "poor Palestinians" who elected Hamas in the first place, and still support them, by 80:20 or better, to the current minute, and given the chance, would do another October 7th attack on Israel tomorrow, even knowing Israel would respond exactly as they have so far, all over again.

And Mr. Phuq wants to help the poor suffering terrorist lovers in Gaza, and hits upon the idea of building a pier to unload pallets of aid (which will be, to a metaphysical certainty, commandeered by Hamas in a heartbeat, given only to their most whackjob strident supporters, or sold and bartered for more guns, bullets, bombs, rockets, and Semtex, to kill more women and children in Israel. Just like every penny of aid they've received from 1967-five seconds ago has been.

And which pier will act like a bung driven into the cask of American foreign payola, creating an annual commitment to fund Hamas and their terrorism, opening the tap $1B or more, annually, until Hell freezes over.

Including the next round of attacks in this country.

That's what a working pier gets us. Which is exactly the over-the-top incompetence we expect from Mr. Fraudulent and his gang of merry misfits in the White House.

Show of hands: Who wants that?
Col. Nicholson in Bridge Over The River Kwai, building the Japs a better bridge than they could've done themselves comes to mind. Madness.

But just suppose that somewhere below the radar, in the Corps Of Engineers or Navy Seabees, there's a general or admiral who's as big a fan of Gomer Pyle and Cmdr. McHale as he is of General Patton or Admiral Halsey.

One who thinks this request for a pier calls for a really futile and stupid gesture, and his guys, like Delta House at Faber College, are just the guys to do it.
"Boys", he says, "I know this is going to be a little bit out of character for you, but I need you to do something for the good of the nation. I know you can build bridges and piers under enemy fire, like we've done in multiple hot shooting wars. And those bridges saved lives, won wars, and made America great. But what we need right now, is a pier that looks like we tried to do our best, but is actually so fornicated up, it breaks up, tears apart, blows away in a slight breeze, and sinks.
"Because if you build them a good bridge, before you know it we'll be sending a bottomless ocean of American dollars here, funding terrorism - even against ourselves - on a monumental scale, and eventually costing us rivers of American blood, both guys like you stationed here, and moms and dads and their kids back home. So we need a total piece of sh*t, that will demonstrate how jackassical the very idea is of sticking our nose in here where it don't belong. You'll catch some heat, but I'll take most of it, and I'm going to retire in a couple of years anyways, so why the hell not?"
"And the people who don't get killed, and the neighbors who won't have billions in tax dollars sucked out of their pockets, and your little brothers who won't be fighting a war here in 5 years, will all thank you someday much, much later."
"So whaddya say? Do ya feel me? Can you get out there, and screw the pooch for the Team?"
Put like that, you'd get a bridge that would be the envy of the guys who built the Titanic, the Hindenburg, and the Edsel, and give you a defense boondoggle that would make Robert McNamara cream his shorts if he were only alive to see it. It would rival the engineering expertise that gave the world the Leaning Tower of Pisa and Three Mile Island.

Which, as it turns out is exactly what we got.

Look, I'm not saying this was masterminded by the bumbling jackholes at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue and the U.S. Capitol who think they run this country. But the guys at the bottom of the totem pole, the ones at the downhill terminus of every Pentagon project shit-rolling contest? Buddy, I'm here to tell you, you come up with a genius plan like this, and they could blow up the Hoover Dam or drop the Golden Gate Bridge, and do it so precisely it wouldn't crack so much as a window on Fisherman's Wharf nor jiggle a single dice roll on the Vegas Strip.

I'm not telling you that's what happened. But while most of the Pentagon brass could be melted down for fish sinkers, most of the NCO corps and the E-3 Mafia are 24K gold.

So just open your mind to the possibility, and don't sell them short.

The $320M "wasted" on this boondoggle mostly got log-rolled to US companies and salaries (with a non-zero portion kicked back to congressweasels in both parties, like always, since ever). It wasn't just thrown into an open furnace. And it's certainly not like what Obozo did, sending literal pallets of $100 bills to Iran to build nuclear weapons and fund terror groups without leaving any financial fingerprints. This was just a blip in the grand scheme of Pentagon graft and grift.

We also got the Ham@$$holes we were nominally trying to help to show why that was a stupid idea, by having them mortar the thing during construction, and injure at least one worker severely. I don't know about you, but the construction workers I've met, who were getting that level of "thanks" from the people they were building something for, might be inclined to leave out nuts and bolts at critical points, pretty much every day after that, don'tcha think??

And we get Good Guy points for the appearance of looking even-handed, and take some paltry Gomer Pyle lumps for looking like incompetents. While saving the US BILLION$ for a pointless, endless commitment to fund a bunch of terrorist shits the world is better off without. Not to mention untold numbers of American lives saved, some not yet even born. Screwing the pooch like this may yet turn out to be the biggest bonanza to the US in living memory.

"Hey, we tried man, but it was just too hard to do. Too bad, so sad. Oh, and maybe next time don't poke the lion in the eye when he has metric tons of artillery and napalm. B'Bye!"

Then we f**k off smartly, and nobody asks us to attempt anything so foolish for years and years, and we aren't losing GI Joe and GI Jane by the bushel to snipers and IEDs while some idiot has them doing peacekeeping or Meals On Wheels in Gaza for the next 20 years. World-class genius, right there.

It's even just barely possible that someone old enough to remember the debacle might have learned a wee bit from Beirut 1983, and taken the right lesson(s) about such efforts to heart, even if they never announce that publicly. Wouldn't that just tickle your giggle switch?

I'm certainly not excusing the bottomless incompetence from on high we've seen in living color beyond our wildest nightmares since 2021. Just suggesting an outlook with less sourpuss, and more befitting of happy warriors. And less negative waves, Moriarty, for a change. Woof! Woof!

As a cool-down from the thought exercise, imagine if the schlubs who built out Tan Son Nhut airport in South Vietnam had buggered it up worse than Denver International and Apollo I combined.

We lose interest. Other problems crop up somewhere else. The government's squirrel-on-crack memory wanders to something closer to home, and far less destructive or divisive. The Fuck-Up Fairies responsible for the original pooch-screwing could have saved America billions of dollars in military waste in the 1960s, and saved 58,000 lives.

Never discount the beneficial power of insolent obedience.

And BTW: this whole idea was official US government policy taught to those working in countries behind the lines from 1939 onwards. The fact that the CIA only declassified it in 2008 should tell you more than a little about the rise and fall of the Soviet Empire.

I'ma take a wild guess that what worked on communist idiots over there would work on communist idiots over here equally well. And may already be in play.
YMMV, but take the greater lesson to heart.

Monday, May 27, 2024

Absent Comrades

We Told You So Dept.

 h/t WRSA

We have long since discussed exactly this scenario, plus several more, and how easy it would be for anyone with a weekend and about $2K to weaponize COTS* drones with simple, even homemade, thermite grenades, to take out aircraft, oil tank farms, LNG terminals, and countless other bits of infrastructure, and laid it out in detail over six years ago on Peter's Bayou Renaissance Man blog, over and over again (we beseech you one and all, read the comments back and forth), joined by the host there, and numerous other contributors, using nothing but average common sense.

(IOW, if you didn't put your shoes and socks on in that order, you could probably figure it out yourself, let alone grasp that drone science isn't rocket science. Which tells you a lot more about the likely sartorial habits of naysayers than anything else.)

We were earnestly and loudly derided by the World's Foremost Self-Anointed Drone Expert, stating that what we suggested was categorically impossible, despite posted links to multiple incidents of Mexican drug cartels already having done exactly what we proposed.

The flatulence in opposition only increased.

We have now all watched only dozens to a few hundred videos of Ukrainian homemade drone bombers taking out Russian tanks, APCs, and individual squaddies in trenches in Donetsk and Luhansk for the last two years, demonstrating proof of concept with repurposed simple Russian grenades, mortar rounds, and RPG warheads.

The flatulence in reply turned to a simian fury of solid fecal flinging. In point of fact, the harder Reality kicked our favorite gross ignoramus right in the arse, the more furiously he mined his underpants to tell us this was all "Unpossible!", and the literal reams of actual available information was simply Not So.

We take this opportunity to welcome Matt Bracken to the ranks of those like ourselves, who clearly don't know what we're talking about, and thus find ourselves dumber than the World's Foremost Self-Anointed Drone Expert (at least among those north of the 45th parallel, and left of the 4th quintile on an IQ bell curve).

You're in good company, Matt.

*(MILSPEAK: Commercial, Off-The-Shelf)

"It's Like Playing Poker With My Sister's Kids!"

h/t WRSA

Don't believe us, though. You could look it up yourself. This assumes you graduated 5th grade.

The level of retardation on X cannot be measured with existing instrumentation. It's like an enormous Black Hole of Stupid, so powerful that all intelligent thought is sucked in, never to be seen nor heard from again.

Now imagine that black hole had a keyboard.

Sunday, May 26, 2024

Difficult Concepts Made Simple

h/t dailytimewaster


Permanent Solutions To Temporary Problems

Qwitcherbitchin. You know when you heard a
PGA winner committed suicide, this is the first thing
that came to your mind too.

If you're depressed enough to think about suicide, unless you're a pedophile or a Leftard, please seek professional help. The quick "solution" only ends your pain, which just passes it along to all your friends and relatives.


The last time China assembled an invasion fleet, it turned out more catastrophic for them than the Spanish Armada plan did for Spain.

For Common Core grads, to whom this is news, you might look up the word origin for the title of this post.

Sunday Music: Sam

The beautiful and talented (and gone far too soon) ONJ's Top 20 hit from 1977 (#1 on the Easy Listening chart), performed here live on tour in 1982.

Saturday, May 25, 2024

Chinese Checkers, Not Chess

h/t WRSA 

Newsflash for the Tactically and Strategically Retarded:

When the U.S. conducted the Normandy invasion in 1944, the U.S. Navy had already performed  about two dozen successful amphibious assaults on three continents, just in WWII, and had been making opposed landings of troops on hostile shores on four continents going back to 1776.

Chicomia and the PLA Navy, to date, since ever, has performed precisely zero. The day you think they're going to get the first one they've ever done correct across a 75 mile strait, check your hole card.

The PLAN operates only two types of ships: submarines, and targets.

Ukraine -- Ukraine, FFS! -- with zero ships, and some homemade AS missiles, has swept the Russian Black Sea Fleet off the board, and is kicking the shit out of Russian ships tied up in port at ranges of 200 or more miles. China is about to learn a very expensive lesson in the limits of their infant navy's capabilities and limitations, with their homeports less than half that far from Taiwan.

And anyone to whom this is news doesn't know how much they don't know, and isn't tall enough to play on the internet without adult supervision.

That is all.

Wednesday, May 22, 2024

Any Day Now™, Day 817

We hesitate to bring this up, because it only goads the low-information monkeys to dig around their cages for some feces to fling to fend off Reality, but we cannot help but kick them in the crotch again by pointing out that nearly another month has passed since Ukraine was totally defeated. Which foregone outcome we were assured of, most earnestly, by people who were sure that Any Day Now™, it would inevitably be so.

At the beginning of the month, faithful Putinophiles, like Chicago Cubs fans for over a century, thought "This will finally be our season". Because Vlad said so. For only the 111th time.

Sh'yeah, right. What could possibly go wrong?

Double bummer for the faithful Putinophiles: The Telegraph is Britistan's conservative daily, not one of the Useful Idiot-run reliably commie-tard house organs.

Three weeks later, in week 115 of "Just Two Weeks To Flatten Kiev", unlike countless promises, the only thing Putin has filled with relentless persistence are more Russian body bags (when they even bother to collect their dead).

Pretty much like every day since 2/26/22.

The lines shift a few yards each way back and forth, as they have for over 18 months, like a profoundly retarded refighting of the Somme, except less capably. History doesn't repeat, but it rhymes occasionally.

Bean-counters on both sides in 1915 thought they could win, if only they could throw enough men into the machineguns. Europe lost an entire generation disproving that monumental, and monumentally idiotic, military policy. Putin evidently hasn't played enough tic-tac-toe to learn the lesson yet.

The Usual Retards won't read this deep, but that doesn't mean "Ukraine Is Winning", unless you consider France or Belgium in 1919 what "winning" looks like. Common Core grads should probably look that one up before continuing.

It also doesn't mean we should be giving Ukraine an endless unlimited commitment, and it sure as hell means that we shouldn't send anyone there to fight their war for them*. But as we pointed out two years ago, the minute this shifted from them doing what they could with what they had, to doing what they could with what the West would supply, it meant the end of Western aid would also mean the end of Ukraine. So, before anyone advocates cutting them off, they need to answer how the tactic of pulling out down the road worked out for the U.S. in South Vietnam, Afghanistan, and Iraq. They should show all work for that answer.

It does mean that Putin hasn't run out of toes on his feet to keep shooting yet, and that no one in his inner circle has worked up enough guts to hold a Makarov Retirement Party for the Russian Captain Ahab. Yet.

But even if Putin survives long enough to see his press-ganged mob of sad sacks somehow stumble and bumble their way into Kiev tomorrow, one has to wonder who in their right mind thinks the surviving Ukrainians would just roll over and forgive, and settle back into Russia's yoke. Let alone forecast that the rest of Eurostan and most of the world not getting cheap Russian oil would ever end sanctions or forget Russian aggression. Russia is going to be a pariah state for the next century. Enjoy that whole sh*t sandwich, and swallow every bite. Sweden and Finland have already given their answer, anchoring themselves firmly to NATO. Vlad's adventurism has managed to do more to revive NATO in two years than Reagan and the Bush family managed to do in twenty.

Salesman Of The Century props to Vlad for that, alone. 
One invasion speaks more eloquently than a thousand harangues.

The Usual Suspects will root around, and find someone like The Saker or some other tired old KGB mouthpiece to cheer them up with more bedtime fairytales about inevitable Russian invincibility, but millions of people who live in the real world, from retired shipyard workers in Gdansk to aging Tajik, Uzbek, and Pashtun tribesmen in the Kindu Kush know better. 

Maybe next year, Moscow Cubs fans. Maybe next year.

*(If anyone thinks we haven't had SF teams and military attachés there in harm's way since Day Two, and should not, you're really too naïve to be on the internet without adult supervision. The not-too-difficult trick is to remember that doesn't mean they should be covered by the 82d Airborne and TacAir. We tried that after the Gulf Of Tonkin, and it didn't work out too well. One thing does not require the other.)

Tuesday, May 21, 2024

Another Deplorable Sighting

It's always nice when the Useful Idiot propagandists of the Communist House Organs come right out and say what they've been programmed to spew for their entire lives.

Sunday, May 19, 2024

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.

Sunday Music: Everybody Have Fun Tonight


Number 2 hit in 1986 for new wave three-hit wonders Wang Chung. Totally '80s, and still better than most of anything plopped out in the Top Forty in the almost 40 years since.

Friday, May 17, 2024

For Those Who Won't Give A Sh*t About the Upcoming Banana Republic Elections...


These pins and bumper stickers are available about a jillion places on the 'net. Get one now, and wear it with pride come November. I'm not saying don't vote; throwing a wrench at monkeys presiding over ClownWorld via the next Congress is still a worthy goal.

But for the top of the ticket, breaking wind will make you feel better, whatever happens, and may be more effective than voting at them, barring a modern miracle.

If anyone wants to give you grief over that, tell them you're just sending back what Emperor Poopypants has been putting out since 2020.

Turnabout is fair play.

Thursday, May 16, 2024

Another Biff Tannen Award-Winning Meme

No signature. (Color me shocked). 
Today's prize-winner bit Mike at Cold Fury yesterday. Ouch.

The giveaway: In 1866, the year when this imaginary SCOTUS decision quote purports to hail from, there were only 36 states, not 50. Nebraska became #37 in 1867. (Oh, and word to your mother: there aren't even 50 continental states, even now. Apparently you were sick the day they talked about Hawaii being a group of islands in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. We're pretty sure SCOTUS clerks knew all that even in 1866. You're really on a roll there, dipshit. Walk tall.)

The second half appears to be some jackass' commentary, but it takes a decision and then drags it far beyond what was actually stated, and tries to write laws into being that don't exist, and turns a "may not" into "making war". Little illogical leap there, cupcake?

This is what happens when Common Core grad fucktards try to meme, because they're too stupid to do two mouseclicks and find out how many states there were, or whether they're "continental" before squatting and plopping out this sort of effluvia onto the internet.

It's time for a reminder from our 16th president:

We haven't seen anything so patently stupid and full of, rose fertilizer as the header meme since some WH flunkie plopped out Obozo's fake "birth certificate" online, cut-and-paste filled in using a font not invented until this century.

Step forward, Anonymous Meme Fucktard, and claim the Biff Tannen "Make Like A Tree" Award, and wear it with pride. Along with the obligatory ceremonial dunce cap, jackass.

Wednesday, May 15, 2024

Tuesday, May 14, 2024

The Last Thing God Made

 h/t CW

"Don't you know that women are the only works of art?" - Don Henley
(This pic embiggens. Try not to fall in. We dare you.)

We don't expect to find anything better to look at than this picture at CW's place, or write anything more profound than the captions we supplied. Not quite a haiku, but it'll do for now. So we're quitting while we're ahead, and knocking off until later.

Monday, May 13, 2024

Important Point

Nor will it be when you get one.

Sunday, May 12, 2024

Sunday Music: Weird Science


Oingo Boingo's most commercial hit, just missing the Top 40 in 1985, which Danny Elfman wrote in his head in the brief time it took him to drive between John Hughes' phone request for a song, and getting home, and probably responsible for getting Elfman into doing movie soundtracks. Which is definitely a net plus.

Also the soundtrack for every day since 1/21/21, where Lisa's line "Well, what do you little maniacs want to do first?" should be the opening line of the nightly news on every channel for explaining the day's events. Except without the fun part.

Saturday, May 11, 2024

Two Questions


A) IANAStockbrocker, stock picker, or any other kind of stock exchange guy. I GTFOut for good after the second time in 10 years it crushed my savings and wiped out half of my accounts in '08. I have since found more resilient investment vehicles since then. I leave serious market research to the likes of market and business bloggers like Tyler Durden, Deninger, and other aficionados of that particular game of chance. 

B) I'm sure the stock market is honest and above-board as the day is long, because the SEC assures us it is so, and the government would never, ever lie to us. It's just wild coincidence that every time there's trouble for big investors, the government swoops in with barrels of cash, and every time the market wipes out little investors, the government burps, farts, and wanders off looking for another drink.

Having said that, two questions occur to me:

IF the market were something approaching "rigged", and another major crash was coming with some inevitability, where it could be nudged around somewhat...

1) If the person(s) overseeing that rigging loved, Loved, LOVED Emperor Poopypants, knowing there was an election coming on Nov. 5th of this year, when would they want it to crater?

2) If the person(s) overseeing that rigging hated, Hated, HATED Orange Man Bad, but despite putting both thumbs, a foot, and a fat lady on the scale he somehow managed to beat the Margin Of Cheating and prevail on Election Day, when would they want the market to crater?

Hmm. Mirabile dictu! In both cases, things start looking pretty shitty for stock investments right around 5 minutes after the opening bell on November 6th of this year.

Assuming the market ain't entirely straight and above board.

Assuming a "major market correction" is imminent/inevitable.

No reason to assume that might happen, just because inflation has gone from 1.4% to 9% officially since Jan 2021, or because Money Printer Go Brrrrrr! policies has seen your dollar worth 20% less now than it was worth just a few years ago, or because unemployment is at record levels, and all the jobs "added" since 2021 are minimum-wage entry level jobs getting snagged by endless hordes of wetbacks from around the world, and people whose green cards haven't even had the ink dry on the signature line. Just another coincidence, I'm sure, and endless happy days are coming like a freight train.

But the answers to those two questions would seem to indicate that stock investment gets kind of sketchy come the sixth of November, or anytime after that, for those of you still betting on that particular faro game.

Just spitballing. YMMV. Time will tell.

Part The Third: Divide Et Vince

We've made some wee suggestions about things you can do for the current, or any, Leftardian shenanigans that "spontaneously" spring into being, from now to eternity.

And we hope, nay expect, people with a wicked sense of humor, and the good sense to STFU, will go and do those things, and many more that we haven't even thought of.

1) Because it's a moral imperative, and

2) Because it's both fun, and funny as hell.

But before anyone trots out to do unto the most deserving Useful Idiots, a small caveat.

Counter-revolutionary activity (and that's precisely what we're talking about, in both Marxist-Leninist terms, and actual fact) may be expected by the Leftardian minions (who are always crazy, but not always bag-of-hammers stupid), and always leaves a wake like old steam torpedoes, letting said Useful Idiots shoot a back azimuth to you. Or at least, to your side, and any convenient like-minded individuals. Bad juju.

TPTB, whether outright sponsoring the current struggle sessions, or just happy to see them happen for a host of reasons, all bad, will think pretty much exactly the same way.

This will lead to all sorts of hate and discontent coming back at you and your like-minded colleagues, perhaps in manyfold doses over the original.

But you're playing chess at the grand master level, remember?

You saw this move coming before you started out. And probably another five to ten other moves. (Srsly, if you haven't thought of this step, sit down, posit Move A, and then work out the next five to ten things that will cause to happen. Figure out where the heat will land, and work out how to Be Somewhere Else.)

That may mean being physically somewhere else, but that probably isn't going to cut it.

You need, not to move yourself, but to move the "X" ring off of yourself.

By putting the crosshairs on a better patsy to take the rap, and the wrath.

Small case in point, to illustrate the bigger picture:

Back in the day, there was a certain amount of sass being tossed back and forth between some young ladies, and some young gentlemen.

The gentlemen in question decided the solution to this, was to send out invitations to about 50 people announcing a surprise birthday party for one of the ladies in question. With instructions to tell neither of the two (who were roommates.)

They tagged along, showed up with everyone else, and the surprise party was a total surprise. Not least of which, because it was neither girl's birthday, and they suddenly found themselves hosting an impromptu party, to which people had brought food and presents.

Within a few days, no one could prove, but everyone "knew", who had ginned up the whole affair. 1 point for cleverness. But what moved this game into a higher element was when, a couple of weeks later, a Chili and Chocolate Cake Party was announced at the two guys' apartment. Once again, droves of folks showed up, and the two guys acted totally shocked, as if they had been paid back, and naturally, everyone "knew" they had been paid back by the two ladies who started things.

Everybody, except the two gentlemen, because they had organized both parties.

This came out months later, under vows of secrecy, to a couple of other people. One of whom might have been me. They got two parties to happen, which cost them nothing. They made it look like the ladies were the culprits in retaliation. And chili and chocolate cake were their favorite foods. Pure coincidence, of course.

So they got fed twice, with leftovers for a week the second time, and made it look like someone else's deed. Genius.

And the ladies who got blamed couldn't have paid people to believe they were innocent of the reprisal "surprise". Nobody was buying that story.

That, dear friends, is "dekeing", i.e. decoying the blame onto a convenient patsy.

In this case, no harm, no foul, but a lifelong lesson.

So, wait, how does this relate to campus Leftards?

Thanks for asking.

You have Useful Idiots, who are literally Roused Rabble, in service of outside agitators' agenda. They are quite literally a rent-a-mob, and they bring their own outrage.

So how to take the heat off yourself and like-minded folks, and shift it where it will do the most harm?

Like Caesar with Gaul, and like the pizza in the post header pic, you Divide And Conquer.

This is already happening. You're now going to grease the skids, and put a JATO bottle behind it.

It's a pro-Hamas/anti-Israel rally?


Leave calling cards. 

Calling what?

Little items that make it look like somebody's being pissed on, and pissed off, by the rally, from the Leftard side of the zoo.

Gin up some anti-Jewish rhetoric. Flyers, posts, memes, manifestos. You're Pro-Hamas, so you don't just hate the Jooooos! in Israel, or the ones invading Gaza, you hate all of them.

See how that goes over at the local temple on shabbat. Baby, meet bathwater. Feel free to pile on with swastikas. Let's get the Stormfront crowd tarred for things too.

Then, when some of your actual shenanigans start happening, make it look like Jooooooos! were behind it.

Then, put on your LGBTQWERTYEIEIO hat, and get all butthurt, because the pro-Hamas people are talking (in your voice, somehow) about making sure than the next meeting of the Muslims Students Association and the LGBTQWERTEIEIO Alliance takes place on the roof of the campus admin building. Two groups enter, one group leaves.

Let the LGBTQWERTYEIEIO folks now get all butthurt at the pro-Muslim folks for gay-phobic intolerance.

Hey, waitaminute?? How come you Cracker Kids are having a rally for brown people over there, and ignoring all the Black Lives That Matter getting capped right here?!?

Take out your BLM sock puppet, and question why all those white kids are more worked up about Achmed over there than they are about Tyrone and Laqueesha right up the street. And how come they're all playing kissy-huggy-touchy-feely with the cops that been shootin' Cuzzin Dindu while his hands wuz raised?!? Clearly, it's just one more case of the Man Keeping Us Down. Represent, homie!

Then send out counter-communiques telling Cleetus and Wambeesha to shut their uppity mouths and support the cause.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

Do it again for Wammin's Feminazi groups, and ask why "we" are rallying for our misogynist Sharia oppressors, sisters??

Have the Hamascidal idiots tell them to calm down and STFU too. Because that works so well on angry women.

Have the atheists get into the bitch-fest, and rail against any theocracy.

Bitch-slap them on behalf of the Philistinian protestors too.

Have Hose A and Hose B whinge because the protests should be down at the border, to let everyone from Brownsville to Tierra del Fuego in, not to worry about some other war an ocean away.

I have told the story before waaaaaay back about how, out of sheer boredom, I single-handedly got every dog in every yard for half a mile all barking at each other. Over and over.

Now imagine the fun that ensues when you do the same thing with all the cats and dogs on this or any future Ark Of Retards.

Especially if you make it look like everything you're doing was done by one of the gang of Usual Suspects. An online comment here, some graffiti there, a couple of claims made on behalf of imaginary Butthurt Interest Groups, and before long, they'll be slitting each other's throats and stabbing each other in the back, literally or figuratively, and starting feuds that will fester for years to decades, while you sit back, watch, and laugh yourselves silly. Don't overlook anonymous tips to The Man, helpfully allowing them to find the residue of your stunts behind someone else's clubhouse, in their trash cans, or their car trunk. Some of it might even get suspicion all over those outside agitators, making them the new Crazy Cat Ladies vandalizing their own cars, and getting arrested for it. Even TPTB love that stuff, and friendly sources will trumpet it from the rooftops even louder than that.

You may have seen this material before: they did an entire episode of M*A*S*H* based on this exact concept.

So if you're going to drop the hammer, make sure you aren't pointing at your own foot first. Pick your patsies, drop your breadcrumbs, plant your fingerprints, and let the games begin. Try not to hurt yourself splitting your sides open once it becomes a self-fueled fustercluck for the Useful Idiots.

Thursday, May 9, 2024

You Might Want To Take Notes

Everybody who's ever had to take a fire safety class knows about the Fire Triangle:

Air, Heat, and Fuel. Any attack on one or more items puts out a fire.

People in the .Mil and civilian occupations have seen "Break The Chain" posters and lectures, noting that it is rarely one thing, but usually an unbroken string of bad or stupid things, that lead to a total disaster. Breaking one link "breaks the chain", and the disaster doesn't happen.

At its simplest, there's the template to every episode of Rescue 9-1-1 back in the day.

Implacable forces of nature + Human stupidity = drama and pathos.

Get rid of either one, and your stupidity wasn't featured on one of their episodes.

The root lesson, and the one I was hinting at in this previous post, is that folks should stop worrying about the current shenanigans on college campuses (or any future sort of Leftard tomfoolery and jackassery) like a serious problem, and start looking at them from a military perspective.

Meaning every event like that runs on several non-negotiable things:



Training and Operations



Attack one or more of those things, in any field of endeavor, and the enemy's plan fails, along a spectrum from tactical to strategic.

People: those are already there, but that's a blessing and a curse. People need water, food, rest, and sanitation.

Intelligence: They need to know what's going on beyond their personal horizon.

Training: If they haven't been trained for everything, there are weaknesses to exploit.

Operations: Thwart their mission, disrupt their activities, and their failure is assured.

Logistics: Anything they don't have in their pockets, needs to be prevented from reaching them, or prevented from working as designed.

Communications: Internal, and external. Jam it, cut it, delay it, or any combination, which all degrade their chances of accomplishing anything useful.

The more of those things you do, the more you degrade morale.

Which makes people question or ignore their leaders.

Which saps commitment.

Which undermines everything they attempt.

So all the things I whimsically suggested, and many more, could all be used (should all be used!) by whomever, to let these bumpkins and Useful Idiots know they're playing checkers in a world full of chess grand masters.

Block food and water, and that crowd will dwindle to nothing in about 2 days. Jesus will not be multiplying loaves and fishes, and if they didn't bring it, and can't get it, they won't be eating it.

Deny them rest, and they'll lose their minds in a couple of days. Literally.

Deny sanitary facilities, and it'll turn into a mass health crisis in the same amount of time.

Those sites are running on cell phones. Which run from helpfully obvious towers. Be a real bummer if someone dropped a soda can full of iron oxide and magnesium shavings on top of the control boxes, which somehow caught fire, and took those towers relays out for a few days, wouldn't it?

They lose contact, media access, communications, cohesion, everything.

Legacy media have satellite uplinks from their trucks, but the schmucks in the tent cities? They're deaf, dumb, blind, and stupid.

People could also get their hands on portable all-band cell phone jammers, stuff a few into backpacks, and wander nearby, creating the same effect. Someone might even plop a few into fake A/C units, with solar panels, on rooftops, and just let them run, for the same benefit. No cell, wifi, or any other nonsense. By the time they could be pinpointed and ID'ed, the event would be over. You could even set them to run at different times, in rotation, making DFing them more problematic. Serious HAMs could do it, but the yokels running that show? They'd be bumfuzzled.

Beavis and Butthead are using VHF, UHF, FRS, or CB? Selectively jam them. Let other communiques out. Gather intel. Spoof them with bogus messages. Pretend to be them, and issue retarded and embarrassing manifestos and messages, which will most assuredly be heard and disseminated, and now they're on the defensive having to deny things they never said, which go viral on all media outside their enclaves.

Anyone nearby could gin up totally bogus "protestor" videos too, and dump them onto YouTube and X. Comedy gold is where you mine it. Remember Churchill's line: "A lie will get halfway around the world, before the Truth has gotten its boots on." Use that reality to your advantage.

Simply suss out all the things underpinning those activities they're undertaking, and seek to take them apart one by one, until their whole effort is one giant clusterfuck.

Nobody has to do all of them. Pick one, and go wild on it. Be the chaos and friction Von Clausewitz warned military leaders about.

The other side aren't all that well-organized, so it isn't going to be that hard.

BONUS RESULT: Some day, when you're the G, operating operationally, you'll know all the ways your plans can be monkeywrenched, so you'll be fore-armed at thinking of alternate, contingency, and emergency methods to unscrew any attempts to screw with your efforts, come the day.

Both of which make your enemies look ridiculous, and lead to them being ridiculed.

"And then, kick them in the balls!"

 - Captain William Fairbairn's concluding remarks, after each and every dirty move he taught commandos in hand-to-hand combat during WWII.