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Monday, January 16, 2017

Ruminations On A Civil Rights Failure

This past weekend, John Lewis of Selma fame, and Congress Critter from Georgia, thought to call President Elect Donald Trump's election win illegitimate. Now, I didn't vote for The Donald. I had my reservations that he would be anything more than Hillary in a Saville Row suit. So I wrote in a name of an unqualified person and left the rest of my ballot as I saw fit.

Now, as to the legitimacy question. Let's see the score card now, the CIA admits that they have no proof that Russians actually hacked anything. The FBI, ditto. They claim there is undisputed evidence that Russians "interfered" in our election process, i.e. Wikileaks publications, but again, can provide no proof. Putin denies giving Assange anything. Assange assures everyone he knows that he did not get his information on DNC emails from Russia. In fact, he got them from a DNC insider, Bernie supporter, who was disgusted by what he saw happening to his chosen candidate with full approval of Yenta Barbie, Donna Brazille and HRC herself. For people who have seen the archives that Assange demands when given digital data, they all know who it was and who continued that work after that person mysteriously died as people around HRC do.

So, John Lewis, noted liar, race huckster and Democrat Party shill thinks that Trump's win is not legitimate. Really? Interesting, that. Truly. In point of fact, it's FASCINATING.

Why? Because John Lewis is a known liar. In 2009 he accused people of calling him and Elijah Cummings the N-Word on the capital steps while they marched in , arm in arm with Nancy Legosi and Mjolnir to vote for Obamacare. Andrew Breitbart immediately offered $100K to anyone who could provide video proof of this happening. In the seven years since that incident, not one single person has stepped up to collect that from Andrew Breitbart or now, his estate. Not. One. Single. Person.

Proven Lie.

Now, the ONLY reason we know John Lewis, AT ALL, is because he got clubbed in the head in the Selma riots back in the Civil Rights days down South in Alabama. He's been dining out on that story for over fifty years. Here's is what I don't understand about John Lewis, everyone involved in his beating, in being set on by dogs, fire hosed, and jailed was all done at the hands of the Democrat Party with "Segregation Today, Segregation Tomorrow, Segregation Forever". Yeah, hate me because I paid attention in all of the American History classes I was forced to take compared to my one year of world history and world geography.

So, John Lewis decides to then go out and shill for the Party that saw him as nothing more than dirt under their feet, and now he seeks their protection as they try to virtue signal about how much they love minorities.

Sitting on this side of 50+ years of The Great Society, how's that worked for your people Mr. Lewis? Perhaps Trump was right and you need to go home and pay attention to what's going on in your streets. You're a worthless party hack who doesn't even realize he's been used for all of these years by people who really do see him as beneath him.

Illegitimate, indeed.

Tuesday, January 10, 2017

Watching The Farce

I'm watching the Sessions confirmation hearings and I have to admit, when they are not in power, the Democrats are really pretty pathetic, but funny.

I can't decide which I like better, Feinstein's racism accusation which proves her staff can't research a clearly and long debunked tale about a joke Sessions once told, or Dick Durbin's crying about the Dreamers, "What about the children?", the battle cry of all Lefties when there's no gas left in the tank.

Sessions, adroitly in my opinion, rebutted each ridiculous attack with a calm, almost amused demeanor that I nearly applauded. Especially, when one senator had to ask him four times if he really would recuse himself from an investigation into Hillary Clinton's email debacle. As if the man could not recognize the truth when it bit him on the ass. Law 101, moron, never ask a question you don't already know the answer to. You looked like a buffoon on national television AND your constituents, who are even now wondering when you can be primaried.

I expect all of the confirmation hearings to go much like this, proving that the Democrats learned nothing from this election. They don't get it that Republicans are no longer within the grip of Stockholm Syndrome. Yet, another rational argument for term limits, if you ask me, which you didn't but this is my blog so I'm opining.

If you go over to CSPAN or YouTube to watch the hearing, you will see more than one Democrat do that eyeball side to side thing, looking, searching, praying for some confirmation bias that they're clearly used to and not getting it. They are caught flat footed and don't know what to do next. Saul Alinsky certainly never taught them how to fight back. I am praying that some intrepid Project Veritas camera is somewhere in the background and catches one of the idiots going, "WTF happened out there? He didn't do like he's supposed to! WTF is going on?!".  Comedy gold and you know it's happening.

This is the first time since 1920 that the Democrats have no leg to stand on. At all. They hold no currency, can purchase nothing at all, and they are foundering, fast, simply because they cannot change their paradigm because it's worked well for them since the 1960s. Fifty years is a long time to be in the driver's seat. Nearly 100 years of being able to social engineer has left them in the denial that people simply are no longer buying what they are selling. They cannot believe they've lost, that they've been rejected. They remind me of Steven's ex-girlfriend Jane in the BBC show Coupling from the 90s. They are unflushable.

I'm going to watch all the confirmation hearings they air, cabinet selections, diplomatic corps, etc.,. It's amusing to watch and even better to experience when they fall so flat and it's so obvious they have no idea how to recover. They've never had to learn to lose, because in their world, everyone's a winner, and it's not just a funk song from the 70s.

I suggest you do the same, and watch the body language of the Democrats. That's when you really hit the mother lode of cognitive dissonance. If you're so lucky as to catch some microexpressions, it's almost enough to make you roll out of your chair or off your sofa laughing.

So, yes, I am here to watch the farce that the Democrats think they are still in power, and from the rules they rammed through in the past few sessions, they figured they always would be.

Sunday, December 25, 2016

Behold! The Grinch!

I'm trying to remember if I do a Christmas thing every year, and I suspect I do, but I'm too lazy, and hungry, to look right now.

My #2 son got me a leather bound edition of Nail Gaiman's American Gods and Anansi Boys and I am over the moon about it. I love Neil Gaiman. The kid always gets me leather bound editions of my favorites that I have digitally, but treasure more than I ever did all those paperbacks I held on to all those years. Banner Christmas if you ask me.

When I was a young woman I loved the Holidays. I was excited from Thanksgiving on, all the cooking and baking and decorating. Now, well into middle-age, I could do with a vacation this time of year, away from all of the shopping and madness surrounding the holiday season. In between posts of manic Christmas Cheer and phone numbers for suicide hotlines, there is me.

I keep thinking, perhaps when the grandkids are a little older I'll get that feeling back. Maybe next year, and each year my apathy grows until I am sat at my computer looking up holiday bookings for Yellowstone Park next Christmas. I am determined to whisk my husband away and go look for wolves and get away from everything that drives me batty this time of year.

I remain at a loss at what to get most people. My #2 son is great. He posts online things he wants. People ask me what I want but telling a struggling young adult that all you really want for Christmas is not to have to cook for anyone comes out all wrong. Quite honestly, if it were left up to me, I'd fix myself a ham sandwich and be done with it, either reading or watching TV movies all day.

As I grow older I realize that I've begun to really resent the expectations of those closest to me at this time of year. As if, I don't do these things, they can't be happy. Their happiness makes me happy, so I do them. But, here's the deal, they really don't care about my happiness. Well, my husband does. He asked me last night what I really wanted for Christmas, and I told him I wanted to be left alone with no one expecting anything from me for one day. It floored him.

I want one freakin' day a year where I don't have to plan dinner, prepare it, cook it, serve it. I want one day where no one asks me if I know where X is, or what they managed to do with their keys/wallet/phone.

It's so bad I've gotten to the point where I am liable to punch the next moron who asks me when dinner will be ready.

My husband, God Bless his little heart, wakes up and immediately begins haranguing me about breakfast. WTF? So I told him to fix it himself, only he can't even manage that, because it's baking, basically heating up chilled cinnamon rolls, but NO! He can't just reach into the cupboard and pick out the pan I always use for this that is right there, in front on the right hand side... he's got to completely discombobulate my arranged baking dishes because he CAN'T FLIPPIN' LISTEN TO ME.

Then the boys at 8 AM, "When are we eating?" When you learn how to feed yourselves you blasted fledglings.

#2 son is the only keeper. He faithfully remembers Mother's Day, my Birthday, Christmas. And, furthermore, he ALWAYS gets me gifts I love, leather bound books, anything Wonder Woman. But, he's a moody git, so it's iffy.

The others just sit back and expect to be served.

This next year is going to be fun.

Tuesday, December 20, 2016


The reporters who came to the press conference in the office of the John Galt  Line were young men who had been trained to think that their job consisted of concealing from the world the nature of its events. It was their daily duty to serve as audience for some public figure who made utterances about the public good, in phrases carefully chosen to convey no meaning. It was their daily job to sling words together in any combination they pleased, so long as the words did not fall into a sequence saying something specific. - Atlas Shrugged Page 243-244
The above paragraph is taken from Atlas Shrugged which was published in 1957 by Ayn Rand. It took her 12 years to write. There is no more prescient scene in this book than the one above, at a press conference given by Dagny Taggart at the opening of her John Galt Line.

It reminds me of today's press corp. Think about how they fawned all over Hillary and Obama, and yet seemed absolutely baffled by Donald Trump, especially when he called them on their bullshit.

Tuesday, December 13, 2016

An Open Post-Election Letter

I've spent almost the entire past week in bed with the nastiest cold in existence, and I've been forced, by boredom, to watch TV, and read a lot of what's on the Intarweb tubes. I've finally had enough. I hope that enough of you read this and pass it around, because I think I speak for a lot of people when I tell the Democrats, to STFU.

I'm going to be blunt, and for my Liberal pals, I will ask you to look away, not read any further, because I take no pains to hide my disdain for your policies or politicians at this point. I'm fed up.

You lost the election. There is no version of this story where Hillary magically wins and rides into the White House on a Unicorn. You lost, and you lost big.

I've stood by, for the past sixteen years while our political "betters" have watched us all swirl the bowl and not give a damn because, who the hell are we to them? Nobody. We are no one to anyone in DC. Let that be the most important lesson you read here.

Now, I will be brutal. You did not lose because Russians hacked the voting machines or because of Wikileaks (although, God love him, Julian Assange let those of us who hate these people put instance to accusation) or because the machines counted wrong. There is no proof of any of the accusations that you make, forcing everyone who views your rioting, your whining, your shakening, and your inability to deal with reality, question whether we really should provide resources to keep you alive. I'm in the No Camp right now and none of you are swaying me. At all.

I'm going to save you all a lot of time and money, if you listen to me. The reason WHY YOU LOST THE ELECTION is actually quite simple. Nobody who voted for Trump likes your politics or your policies. Put simply, we're not into you. Again, At All.

Simply put, we have been lied to and about too long and we're sick and tired of it. We're mad as hell and we're not putting up with it anymore. We're just not.

So sit back, grab a Xanax, phone your analyst and experience the fact that no one cares how you feel About anything. At All. We don't care that you're upset about losing. Perhaps you should blame your parents for that. They never let you experience loss, so you have no idea how to deal with it. That's OK, I've already got a list of parents in my school district that all deserve a really good slap.

So shut up with your insipid theories and crying in desperation to somehow make the reality you want the reality that is. Accept what is real. Because, at the end of the day, no one gives a flying fuck on a rolling donut about your feels.

Tuesday, November 22, 2016

Parenting Fail!

I saw the meme above today and I laughed. I laughed until I sat up in my chair and stopped, and then said, "Oh!"

My reaction was due to realizing after the initial funny HA HA moment, was that those "parents" hadn't parented, they'd been the buddy, the pal, of their child. That is possibly the most wrong thing you can do to your child. Ever. On any level.

Children need love, they need boundaries, they need rules. In short, they need parents, not friends. They've got plenty of those at school.

I've told my children no, spanked them, put them in corners, sent them to their rooms until I could cool down, so they could cool down. I've removed every enjoyable object from their rooms. I've listened to my daughter sing her litany of hate to me from the corner, the only punishment that ever worked for her. I have four children, and discipline was geared towards what worked for them, not a one-size-fits-all mindset. My youngest daughter died every time we took her social life away. My boys absolutely hated being sent to their rooms that were devoid of toys, video games, comic books, but full of Mark Twain and other stories, I felt it was healthy for their souls to read.

I have four millennials, and yet, none of them act like the Precious Snowflakes running our college campi in this nation and in Europe. I think, I'm not sure, but one of them voted for Trump. So he says. I wrote in a name. The other voted Libertarian I think. (I'm more proud of that than anyone could know.)

They are all ashamed of their contemporaries. They are aghast and frankly. befuddled by their friends. Only two of them have gotten any college educating, the others worked their asses off at their respective jobs and are highly successful at what they do. But they look at people their age and they shake their heads. Most of their friends, frankly shake theirs as well. It's as if they witness these people, recognize that they are in that age group, but realize that is where any and all comparisons end. They are part of the millennial generation, but they are not of it. They simply don't have the bubble wrap, impenetrable barrier that these kids have wrapped around them, so sure they're right, and yet so wholly ignorant of just exactly how stupid they really are.

Last year when Safe Spaces were first thrown out there, my boys, who have both been to college groaned and said they wouldn't be going back anytime soon because of that BS. They hadn't fought for these little idiots to deny reality, they had fought for the Free Speech Zone known as the United States of America.

My daughters unmercifully mocked their peers. My sons rolled their eyes and asked my why I had to birth them during the Millennial phase. Like I had anything to do with that. None of my kids act like these brats do. Personally, if I looked at the TV and saw my kid, at college on my dime, acting like that? I'd go to the campus, find him, beat him in front of God and everybody, then drag him home and refuse to pay for anything more. He'd have to get a job and dig ditches until he's earned or learned enough to move on.

Perhaps many parents should be considering that option for their precious snowflakes.

Thursday, November 17, 2016

Miscellaneous Bitchery

I've been in a mood for a couple of months now, since I lost the keys to my bike and have jumped through so many hoops to try to avoid having a locksmith come to my house and re-key me. So today, I finally broke down and did it, because I am to the point of committing murders of the Y Chromosomes that live within arms length. I am now the happiest of campers except...

I had planned on going and doing grocery shopping early this morning but things went so long in bill paying, correspondence and home visits that I must now wait for others who demand my times today, to get that shopping done. I will just go do it later tonight before the store closes. I would be happy, but once dinner is done, I like to settle in and read or go over the day's writing. I'll be okay I'll get by, except...

I have to wait tomorrow morning as well for the key guy, because he might not make it until tomorrow. Yeah, I'm still happy except...

I have to babysit my grandkids tomorrow, which is my happy zone. Nothing messes with my happy zone. I live for my time with them because it's such a happy time. Except...

The kids go for their shots tomorrow morning, so take two shirts because Little Auggie tends to spit up a lot when he's having a bad day.

Well, that's why they invented Infant Tylenol.

Thanksgiving is in a week and we've decided to have just a small, family at the house thing. We'll do one turkey and take dinner to my in-laws across the street. I'd love for all of us to eat together but there is no room here and I absolutely refuse to have my in-laws clean up after a family dinner. I still have to make pies and all of that, so really, just a smaller dinner does not make a bit of difference to me. Will I receive any help from the Y Chromosomes this year? Hell no. "You're not frying a turkey, so it's TV and YouTube for me!"

So, now I'm looking at Christmas presents and thinking, yeah, no help guys.