A Terrible Resolve

h/t Liberty's Torch

 

BFYTW, State Level

h/t Free North Carolina

Famous Coin Tosses In History
"Captain Custer, meet Captain Sitting Bull.
Captain Sitting Bull, meet Captain Custer.

Captain Custer, call the toss in the air.

Captain Custer calls heads... it's TAILS.
(snicker)

Captain Sitting Bull elects to kick off.
Captain Custer, you and your men set up down in that hollow, while Captain Sitting Bull and all the Indians in the world ride right down on you."

If this sort of thing catches on, it's a statistical inevitability that one of the annual Pineland Games in Appalachia is going to be conducted for keeps, with live ammo.

I would short any stock you may have in the statist Powers That Be in such a contest. Bet on the G-Forces of Pineland. Bigly.
And go long on ammo and rope company stocks, while laying in epic quantities of popcorn and suitable beverages.

If they push things a little harder, VA Gov. "We're Grabbing Your AR-15s" Northam may only serve 1/2 a term. With a sharp drop at the end.

"For the record, we did not hang Gov. Northam. On the contrary, after we applied hot tar and chicken feathers to his naked body, we simply attempted to see if he could fly. One of our more safety-minded members suggested tying a safety tether to his neck in case it worked. We did so, but unfortunately, his airworthiness was not what he had hoped when he attempted his aerial endeavors. Though we note he did try to kick and propel himself mightily for some minutes after his first launch."

And as noted by John Wilder, this is the beginning steps of organizing an alternative government alongside existing structures, which is classic preparation for a schism turning kinetic.

In "the birthplace of presidents"? How delightfully apropos.

This information should guide your future planning, kids.

Now, if only Lindsey Graham, or someone younger, will kindly do us the courtesy of caning some Democrat worthy near to death in the Senate well during impeachment proceedings, our joy may be made complete. The home version has been tried the other way several times, but both Rep. Steve Scalise and Sen. Rand Paul proved to be made of sterner stuff than their Special Snowflake assailants.

No one in the moribund NRA could be found with a pulse rate, nor reached for comment.

Coming Soon In VA? Updated.

courtesy of Matt Bracken

VA is probably going to need some new State Police if they plan on going live with this scheme.

I've seen what happened when a state had one Chris Dorner.
Believe me when I recommend that you not try it with tens of thousands of them.

And there's always another side of that coin.

UPDATE: More Fun

The Next New Normal

When you don't swear in counsel or witnesses, and your early witness joins the inquisition panel after testifying, this isn't a trial, it's simply a witch hunt.

From comments to yesterday's musing hereabouts,

"This will now be the new normal - using the full power of the state after every non-Leftist president.

(sigh) "- John Wilder 

It'll be the new normal for about 0.2 seconds.

If the Left tries this again in living memory, the answer will be a slaughter of the Left.

Tchaikovsky used cannon as special percussion.
In the next political conversation with the Left, gunfire will be the punctuation.

The tolerance for their games has ended, and the next spark is the one that will ignite the rage that has burned unrequited for decades.

It's frankly quite a miracle that they haven't already been targeted and taken out this time, and only an overoptimistic fool would expect this forbearance to last much longer.

The Democrat Party, top to bottom, is about to re-learn the historical lesson the Leftards always forget: that they are not bulletproof.

And when you relentlessly take away all other options for legitimate debate, things will be settled not Hatfield-McCoy style, but more on the order of Rome-Carthage style, i.e. with historic finality and zero restraint.

We have nothing to lose except 160M of those friends and neighbors who aren't working for a living anyways, but still think they're entitled to your cake.

This won't be Chicago Rules.

It's going to be Serengeti Rules.

Meaning, just like with Randy Weaver, their kids and family are on the menu as well. Turnabout is always fair play.

Is It Just Me...

 

...or does the Dumbocrats' insane never-ending impeachment quest remind everyone of the pathologically optimistic kid who found a gigantic pile of horseshit under the tree on Christmas morning, and began digging frantically, because he was positive there had to be a pony under there somewhere?

The last time anyone was this insanely driven, he was a sea captain named Ahab.

Sunday Music: Rhapsody In Blue

On a very short list (like one that you could count on one hand) of American master-class genius composers sits George Gershwin, and this timeless work from 1924 is truly his magnum opus. In 16 1/2 minutes he encapsulates America at its best, as it sat astride the world at the dawn of its glory days prime. Sit back and listen to what it sounds like, from long before United Airlines lifted a brief section to hawk round trip tickets, performed brilliantly in this case by the Slovak Philharmonic.

Infamy Lives

This shot of Pearl Harbor is from October 1941, less than two months before the fateful attack. (Millenials and Common Core grads, Google "WWII". Trust me, it's a thing.)

Somebody who was only 17 that morning would be 95 today. The average age of those serving was 26, which tallies to 104 years of age now. IOW, dead. Nearly everyone from that conflict has already passed away. If you meet anyone who served then, anywhere, show some respect for your betters. They earned it, before you were born.

Then ponder that the US Navy and Army, now, are about as weak and small as they were on that day. Also twice as hamstrung, and fourfold more aimless and clueless. On a bigger, badder world stage, with even fewer allies, and a media totally captured by enemy agents and influence.

Ponder what that portends in coming days and years. Both for yourself, and 300M of your friends and neighbors.

Idiot Savants

From Comments

The upcoming generation of morons who embrace the high-tech battery-powered whiz-kid horseshit by itself are going to pay a heavy toll when it shits the bed in combat, either from primary or logistical failure, and they're left with aught but high-priced clubs.

In riflery, just as in auto racing, the true professionals learn the old ways, because the lessons have been paid for in actual blood.

Hunger And Starvation Are Powerful Teaching Tools...

h/t Moonbattery

Pretty sure the exiled white farmers' answer is:
"Not happening. Go %#@! yourselves."

...plus, for the really egregious world-class @$$holes, like the Special Ones in Zimbabwe, the after-effects are fun to watch.

Like realizing that due to their own utter incompetence and endemic kleptocracy, they are the one place where Diversity really was their Strength.

(REALITYVILLE) Crisis-torn Zimbabwe is on the brink of “manmade starvation” with most households unable to obtain enough food to meet basic standards, a UN envoy has said.

This comes 17 years after Robert Mugabe’s Zimbabwean government seized large swathes of land from white farmers in the country, triggering a rapid downturn in the country’s economy.

“The people of Zimbabwe are slowly getting to a point of suffering a manmade starvation,” said Hilal Elver, the UN special rapporteur on the right to food.

“More than 60% of the population of a country once seen as the breadbasket of Africa is now considered food insecure, with most households unable to obtain enough food to meet basic needs due to hyperinflation,” said Elver.

How did the “breadbasket of Africa” reach the point of “manmade starvation“?

News24 reports that Mugabe and his Zanu-PF party launched the controversial land reforms in 2000, forcibly seizing white-owned farms to resettle landless blacks. Mugabe said the reforms were meant to correct colonial land ownership imbalances.

At least 4,000 white commercial farmers were evicted from their farms.

RTWT

Boo frickin' hoo, communist fucktards. If you want food, I'll send you my trash bags to rifle through; I may have left some pizza crusts in there.

And maybe, as your bellies bloat and your vision dims, you can ponder the white farmers you killed, whose families you raped, and whose land you stole outright, because you never learned to read well enough to understand the parable of the Golden Goose, and your surviving population will stop going for lying leaders telling them that if they just cut the Goose open, they'll be rich too.

The people that they robbed and exiled?

For some values of "people" it's always fun to watch gravity working, in a Wile E. Coyote sort of utter predictability.

Coming soon: the SAfrican version. Bloodthirsty Ramaphosa, having an IQ in the mid 50s, wants to repeat the exact same failed confiscatory policies there too, because White Man Bad.

If white farmers ever return to either place, it should be at the head of armored columns, pushing the same terms Phil Sheridan gave American Indians.

Last Ebola Update of 2019

We called this one last month: The outbreak, while still active, has virtually been stopped dead in its tracks.
In the last month, there have been only 13 additional deaths (in a month!), and the number of confirmed EVD cases has gone down. (IOW, some cases they thought were Ebola, turned out not to be.)

Caveats:
1) It's Africa: they could f**k up a crowbar in a sandpile, and snatch defeat from the jaws of victory left unsupervised. Never underestimate the power of stupid people in large groups.

2) There are a couple of areas of active outbreak where the armed nitwits there have driven  away all aid, clinic, contact tracking, and vaccination efforts. This is roughly the equivalent of having a gunfight inside a nuclear power plant. In both cases, everything could blow up catastrophically.

But based on how it looks, this one's going to go away, eventually.
Think happy thoughts.

This is what happens when it hits people too poor to get away, and we have a highly effective vaccine.

So far, so good.

Until next time.

Stop Me If You've Heard This One...

h/t Kenny

(FORT FULLASHIT) In recent years, soldiers have seen a flurry of upgrades and new weapons, ammunition and optics added to their arsenal at a rate that outpaces previous decades of development in these areas.

Soldiers into their second enlistment today have a distinctly different weapons draw than they or their leaders did just a few years ago.

Those changes cover the full spectrum of small arms, both individual and crew-served weapons, mostly making existing systems lighter and more functional and adding new punch to the firepower of infantry squads, platoons and companies.

O yeah. They're all tactically operating tactically, in a high-speed low-drag transformational circle jerk of biblical proportions.

Oh please.

The only way to increase infantry lethality starts and ends with teaching infantry to master their f**king weapons, and the only way you do that is lots of trigger time with quality instruction and feedback, and learning to do it cold, wet, hungry, tired, and with insufficient supplies of everything but bad guys, who are shooting back at you. You can't do it with simulators, comic books, and videos, let alone sales brochures.

And if you're not doing serious hit-the-target training at all (like Big Green hasn't done for 70 years) you're just going to miss faster with more expensive toys, and be "Shocked! Shocked I say!" when some fourth grade dropout with a vintage mid-century bangstick from the 1950s and home-made web gear greases your platoon and activates your SGLI, because he didn't get the memo you had cooler toys.

All that gee whiz Buck Rogers bullshit is going to totally shit the bed five minutes after it deploys with a real-world battalion with a bunch of guys with GEDs, rather than a hand-picked squad of poster soldiers chosen for PR at the R&D HQ.

Try to remember that Pentagon Wars was far more a documentary than a black comedy, Then remember how every weapons selection since 1945 has worked out for grunts, vs. for the weapons salesmen.

Tell me about the time they "improved" the M-2 .50 cal.
And the .45.
And the bazooka.
And...
And...
And...

Then finally, remember that the least important and decisive weapons on the battlefield (since 1914, and except to the guys carrying them) have been the ones carried by the infantry.
If you want to hook up the grunts, start by ensuring you'll never be sending them anyplace not absolutely vital, and that by the time they get there, it'll be to garrison the charred remains of what used to be anyone who decides to oppose us.

Then take the entire JAG and AG Corps, top to bottom, and stake them out on a live fire range, and let the combat troops do FPF training on them until you need DNA evidence to prove they were ever human beings, and promise the troops that in the future, if they deploy, it'll be "weapons free, and God help the enemy" instead of prosecuting them for doing their job, like the last batch of military guys POTUS had to pardon.

Then find 200 generals who'll sacrifice their stars to make the point that their job is to train warriors, not to hire non-hacker Diversity Beans who can't do the job when TSHTF, and will flat out fire people for failing to cut the mustard. (Even Mad Dog Mattis as SecDef couldn't pull that one off.)

Do that, and you could deploy what you'll get with muzzle-loading black powder flintlocks and rusty pikes and they'd conquer the world.
Fail to do it, and you could give them phased plasma rifles in the 40W range, and they'll still lose.

Don't believe me though. Ask the Taliban in Trashcanistan who won every war there since Alexander the Great.

The Army should STFU until they buy something that works, 24/7/365/anywhere/anytime, prove it by training the hell out of it for 20 years, until they wear out the first buy entirely, and decide it's so good they want MOAR!, and so beloved by the troops they'd throw away food and porn if they had to, just to hump it into combat.

And stop buying sales brochure b.s., which gets you the new Edsel class aircraft carrier, the F-35 Thunderjug, and "Diversity is our strength" kool-aid drinkers who hire soldierettes who can't throw a frag far enough not to eat their own shrapnel, transvestites who can't figure out which latrine to use, and can't-cunt officerettes who keep crashing their destroyers into cargo ships so slow they wave barnacles and jellyfish to go around them when steaming upwind.

The article is boob bait for the bubbas from the fap-fantasies of some PR second john in a Pentagon basement jerk-off shop.


( So, I guess I'm back... )

Seasonal Ear Worms

I expect to get back at it tomorrow, but expect once a day or so, possibly more, I'll be throwing out music each day, not just on Sunday, apropos of the season. Possibly attached to other posts, possibly on their own, as the mood strikes.

Sunday Music: Linus and Lucy

Happy December, with Vince Guaraldi's classic theme, jazz that some thought was way over the heads of kids in 1965, when it debuted. Turns out they were underestimating kids way back then. The soundtrack for A Charlie Brown Christmas was voted into the Grammy Hall Of Fame, and is on the Library of Congress' National Recording Registry list of the most significant American recordings of all time.

Light Posting Notice



Named Isis (courtesy of an old Star Trek episode), but never
 called that (she wouldn't have come anyways), if there's a cat
 afterlife, she's probably expecting to be waited on hand and
 foot there too.

The cat I didn't want has become the cat I didn't want to lose, but she came and went at her own whim at both ends. I got her when a neighbor abandoned her, declawed and defenseless, in the complex parking lot, and moved to Utah. But cats can spot a sucker a mile off, and I was adopted once I figured out her predicament. In return for both studied indifference and loads of undeserved affection, along with an endless stream of litter box nuggets, all she demanded since she adopted me was constant feeding, perpetual attention, and regular replenishment of fresh sand. Wherever I went, there she was, and her favorite was to sit at my feet rumble-purring for hours, with occasional trips to the lap for more attention, interrupted only for food and naps. After eight years of living high on the hog with the run of the mansion, she was feeling poorly the last couple of weeks (the vet suspected cancer, but couldn't confirm it), and so I was tending to her when home most of the month. After working the last three nights straight, when I got home she looked this morning like today would be her last, and so it was. True to form, she made a bit of a mess, but perked up when I got home, drank some water a few times, and regularly switched her tail when I talked to her, until the last couple of hours, and died as I held her a short while ago. Which at least solves the problem of her suffering. Mine, not so much, so she remains to the end a bit of a bother. She would have purred about that, and looked at me like butter wouldn't have melted in her mouth with her usual "What? Who, me?" look.

I have some things to take care of, so other than tomorrow's weekly post, I'll be offline for some while, and get back to this in a couple more days, when I'm feeling like it.

I was done with having a cat after the last one died, but that didn't stop this one from showing up uninvited, so who knows? In the short term, at least there'll be less cat hair on everything to contend with. I would also note this isn't a bleg for any sympathy (though any wishes are appreciated), but merely to explain my absence for a day or three, in advance.

Masterpiece

Five minutes of television comedy history that always lightens my spirits.
Happy Thanksgiving. Enjoy the blessings of the day.

I Could Watch These All Day Long

Exactly as we've told you:
Antifa, one-on-one, is a bunch of fuck-ups and pussies venturing out of mommy's basement.

They're only dangerous in a mob, picking on women, kids, and old people.
(And for some values of "old people", the Antifa-tards should make out their will and carry health insurance before they try this, too. Some old folks will cut to the chase, simply shoot your ass, and laugh about it the entire way home.)

This is what it's going to take to make them re-think their stupid games. This attention whore got off lucky; he's still conscious, and has his teeth. He should've gotten curb-stomped too, and been eating through a tube for a month. It would have been educational.

But some of the Leftards with some small grasp of the obvious are starting to figure out that there may be some wee consequences to their endless communist agitations and provocations.

He's wrong on two major points though:

1) They're not going to take President Trump down.
2) If they somehow did, legislators won't be the only ones on the menu, Snowflake. ;)

No, You Don't Understand...

Courtesy Card

In other news this weekend, SCOTUS Associate Justice Ruth Vader Ginsburg was taken to the hospital, presumably where Death was arriving shortly to collect his due, but after Ginsburg flashed her Courtesy Get-Out-Of-Hell-Free Card from Beelzebub, and her copy of her compact with His Infernal Majesty, signed by Satan himself, Death, yet again, had to return empty-handed, leaving Ginsburg to alight her broomstick and return to her castle with flying monkey escorts.

She's too high up for anyone to SWAT her, but perhaps someone might gin up credible tweets from her purporting to have the goods on Fat Bill and Shrillary, to induce another mysterious case of Arkancide.

Maybe next time...

Reality Version of Celebrity Apprentice: You're Fired!

What a country!
A back-stabber wakes up Saturday as Secretary of the Navy, lips off to the president in the Fishwrap of Record, and by Monday, he's a PFC: Private F**king Civilian.
Mirabile dictu!

(Dept. of BFYTW) Navy Secretary Richard Spencer was fired Sunday by Defense Secretary Mark Esper, who ordered that a Navy SEAL who was acquitted of murder be allowed to remain in the elite commando corps, the Defense Department said.

In other Navy news, plans to name a garbage scow after the former SecNav, the proposed USS Douchebag, have been put on indefinite hold.

SecDef just fired SecNav Chickensh*t, less than 24 hours after we suggested that exact obvious COA. Word to your mother, kids: You don't get to run games and diss your CinC on the pages of the NYSlimes, and still walk away with your balls afterwards. That's Queens Rules, not Marquess of Queensbury Rules.

The rumbling afterwards was 400+ sphincters puckering in the 0-7 to 0-10 flag grades in the Navy Department, along with the cheers of the other 336,400 Navy personnel seeing a faithless backstabbing buddy-f**ker get his just desserts.

Q: When does a Navy Chief laugh at SecNav?
A: When POTUS publicly cuts the SecNav off at the knees.

While we, too, laugh at the swift toppling of yet another second-rate @$$hole still screwing the pooch at the Navy Department, we can't help but wonder if RAdm Blockhead will still be in command of the SEALs by COB Friday, or if he'll suddenly recollect "urgent family business" requiring he announce his sudden retirement request.

The only problem we see is that the President, SecDef, or their designated representatives will only be making a good start.

They need to direct the CNO that another 200+ admirals need to go, and submit that list to the White House by the end of the week. (It should also include most of the Nay's JAG Corps above 0-3 grade.) Starting with anyone even remotely suspect, and first appointed to those grades at any time between 1/20/2009 and 1/19/2017. (If that guts them all, and we have to start from scratch, so be it. Think of the cost savings, and the improvement of morale, if we purge Big Blue of the slow-walking pink falcon douchebraids appointed by Obozo. And think of the sphincter-puckering and re-thinking that would occur at the other branches by Tuesday.) If anyone is a wobbler for retention/cashiering, ties will be decided by a secret ballot of all Navy chiefs assigned to actual ships of the line. Those serving in D.C. or any HQ will be summarily excluded from balloting.

We don't need the smallest Navy since the Depression to be commanded by nearly as many admirals as we had at the height of WWII, with nearly 1 admiral per commissioned ship, currently. Call the firings a "peace dividend".

This is doubly so when they think they command the lash-up in answer to no one, least of all to the president.

Happily, POTUS rapidly named a replacement as SecNav; sadly, we were not on the short list for the position. The nominee for Secretary of the Navy will be retired Rear Admiral and current ambassador to Norway Kenneth Braithwaite.

Anyone wishing a memento 8½x11 photograph of SecNav Chickensh*t will be able to find a copy in the trashcans of 5000 US Navy commands and activities worldwide, anytime after 6PM EST today.

Lesson For The Day: Mess with the bull, get the horns.
Plan of the Week: Navy SEALs Announce A New CO. Any minute.

Sunday Music: Sailing

Christopher Cross, with a face absolutely made for radio, climbed from nowhere to Number 1 hit with this three Grammy-winning track on his 1980 debut, for both Cross and his producer, former Steely Dan session keyboardist Michael Omartian. One of the last artists able to rise so far so fast purely on his voice and talent in a way soon to be impossible for later artists, the song is timeless, and his work shows why and where the music industry started to lose their way, and their minds, based on the foolish and fickle whims of the MTV market, still a year away from its debut.
As last week's cut demonstrated, it's always nice when an artist is easy on the eyes.
But where musical talent is concerned, it's entirely superfluous.