The 800 Pound Canary In The Coal Mine

Pardons be damned. Prosecute every one of the bastards anyways, down to the lowest level, and force them to prove their innocence, or proof of clemency, in court, after paying lawyers $1000/hr. Even if they've got pardons, they can all be compelled to testify fully and truthfully about every single crime they committed, or face fresh perjury charges which those pardons don't cover. Get their serial felonies on the public record, on national TV, 24/7. That will end any do-overs down the road, for thousands of them. And invariably, it'll turn up new co-conspirators not covered by pardons, who can - and should - be prosecuted to the hilt. Make the J6 Witch hunt look like a church egg toss. Make Retribution Great Again!

If nothing like that happens, it's all One Big Con, and the entire country is the mark.

Write that on your hand with a Sharpie, lest ye forget.

And bear well in mind, that's only taking cognizance of the current national political climate. The time may be far shorter than that. Remember that the incoming president is 78 years old, and 78 year-olds, even healthy ones, drop dead all the time, for every reason under the sun, including none at all besides random happenstance.

That's also not looking at geopolitical, economic, or eleventy other Swords Of Damocles hanging over humanity's head already. The whacktards they conned into pulling their own pants down on Doomsday Preppers were always only concerned about one ridiculous and highly improbable scenario, like being overrun by zombie Bigfoot hordes, or somesuch far-fetched idiocy. Real life isn't Retard TV plots. Actual preppers are concerned about every single real-life pear-shaped possibility. That's the difference between prudence, and psychotic delusion.

The beauty of being any kind of prepared is that there's a 95% crossover in terms of what you need to have in place, for any one apocalyptically bad day, as compared to any other one. It's the same eight to twelve main things, over and over. That's always been true.

Time flies. So get right, or get left.

But hope for hangings in batches in Lafayette Park, across from the White House. It doesn't cost you anything, and it's a consummation devoutly to be wished. Plus, whether it happens, or doesn't, you'll soon know exactly where you stand in the grand scheme. And full shelves and ammo cans will always gladden your heart, and make up for a host of empty promises.

Totally Not A Lunatic Megalomaniac

This is totally the sane and rational behavior of a wise leader seeking
his country's own enlightened best interest, rather than the insane
ravings of a certifiable fruitcake who'd prefer to blow everyone to ashes,
including himself, instead of admitting he fucked up colossally, and retreating.

Word to your mother: Every time Vladpoleon does this (and he's done it about every month since the Russians invaded the Ukraine - for the fourth time since 1991 - in February of 2022), and you run to and fro about it, you aren't making the case for him, you're making the case that the West still hasn't done enough to stop him.

You RFP types get that...don't you?!?

Bummer for you, but you picked your side of the argument freely and uncoerced. It's not our fault that your sociopathic pick for Statesman Of The Century keeps kicking own goals and frothing at the mouth. Reality is a pisser like that sometimes.

{Logic 101 Pro Tip: Pointing out that Ukraine is a kleptocracy (and the U.S. is what? Show all work), or that Gropey Dopey Joe is senile, or just playing the JOOOOOOOOOOS! Card, does Jack and Shit for making your case. Make a counter-argument on the merits - as if you have any - or continue to explore the recesses of your own lower digestive tracts with your heads, from the inside. Defaulters will be ignored, or mocked mercilessly, purely on a whim.}

Someday, The Penny Will Drop...

There's nothing wrong with vaccines per se, polio, smallpox, and tetanus being just a few shining examples.

As long as we understand first to last that nobody jabbed with any of the Death Vaxxes developed for COVID got any such thing.

"Heads On Pikes!"

 h/t OddJob

You simply cannot hate the media enough.

"Heads On Pikes!" should become a national rallying cry, and ground reality in 50 states and 7 territories, until they live in mortal terror of discovery from coast to coast. They should be stoned, tarred and feathered with actual scalding hot tar, beaten mercilessly, and on many occasions, simply hung where they are found without relent or remorse.

If anyone thinks the comments after the death of the United Healthcare CEO were icily harsh, imagine the accolades that would be heaped on the first guy to take out a Communist News Network anchor, or run the coven on The Spew over a cliff. "What is the frequency, Kenneth?" parties should become a daily event. The nightly news should start to look like interviews with American aviators shot down over Baghdad in 1991.

It couldn't happen to a more deserving bunch of visigoths, and they have done more to corrode the republic than any other group, in a feat that cries to the heavens for unrelenting justified retribution. At least when cows crap on everything, we get fertilizer. The only way to get fertilizer from the media is to grind them up and sprinkle their remains on the fields.

Challenge accepted.

In For A Penny, In For 77 Grains

Sunday Music: Comfortably Numb

 

Irish posting a screaming cover of the solos on this track reminded me that it was time to add it to the collection, as one of the greatest singles from Pink Floyd's 23X platinum 1979 album, The Wall.

Sunday Music: Heart And Soul

 In the summer of 1983, this song was the first single released from Huey Lewis and the News' album Sports. It wasn't an original, or even the first cover, but the second in two years, of a song that hadn't even cracked the Hot 100. But this version killed, shot to #8, and was even nominated for a Best Song Grammy, paving the way for a string of hits for this group, helped in no small part by the music video, shown in the header.

Priorities

h/t CW

Babylon Bee Scooped Again!

They always get their man.

 

Whom Gods Destroy...

h/t Tam

Bud Light: "Watch us torpedo our brand, lose a billion dollars, and drive ourselves out of business."
Jaguar: "Hold my beer, and start your engines..."

 

"...if the purpose of advertising is to get people talking about you, the new ad campaign has succeeded at that." - Tam

 Someone has perhaps conflated "talking about" with "pointing and laughing derisively and uproariously at".

♫ One of these things is not like the other one. ♫

And when last we looked, as a general rule, the purpose of advertising isn't "to get people talking about you", it's to get people to buy your product. We haven't read a marketing textbook in 40 years, so we may be wrong about that, but we doubt it.

So unless androgynous and transgendered freaks is an emerging market for high-end car manufacturing, this ad campaign is going to go over about as well as Bud Light hiring Dylan Mulvaney as a spokes-tranny did.

Jaguar's ad campaign is selling something.

But that Something isn't anything to do with selling their cars.

At least now we know the real reason Ellen Degeneres left the U.S. was to oversee all advertising for Jaguar. Someone needs to sack her, and then sack the person who hired her.

It bears mention, from a medical standpoint, that the people who make such desperate cries for attention as what Jaguar just did are generally the same psychotic chicks cutting their wrists with razor blades.

Put Daniel Craig (or hell, even Ryan Reynolds) in a tux, stand him next to a silver F-type R-75, have him deliver a few lines, and then have him drive off, with that bundle of neon oddities chained to the rear bumper as he Tokyo drifts the entire gaggle over a cliff, and Jaguar's woketarded misstep is history.

Do it not, and their brand is history. And this ad campaign can be seen for what it is: Jaguar drunk dialing their ex, with a box cutter in hand, and a bottle of sleeping pills, demanding he come back, or else.