Wednesday, September 20, 2017

Looters Aren't The Only Vermin That Should Be Shot On Sight

h/t Irish 
 

As Irma whipped through South Florida, Celso Perez and his family were like many of us…
Celso Perez, surprised by county: “Having winds up to 100 miles per hour and we were basically hunkered down in the closet scared to death.”
Monday morning, Irma had passed and it was clear. At 9 a.m., Celso and his neighbors went outside to get to work.
Celso Perez: “We had a lot of trees down in the street and the streets were blocked. We were out here, us and our neighbors, cutting the branches down and trying to open up the streets.”
Later Monday afternoon, as Celso was clearing the tree branches, a car pulled up from Miami-Dade County…
Celso Perez: “And we thought he was here to help us or offer some type of assistance with the trees, maybe he was going to bring us ice or something.”
The code enforcement guy did give Celso something…
Celso Perez: “He said he would have to cite me for having my fence down.”
This warning was slapped on the part of the fence still standing. Celso is a very calm guy. His reaction?
Celso Perez: “I laughed. I thought he was kidding. ‘You are kidding right? We just had a hurricane six hours ago.’ ‘No, I’m not kidding. I have to cite you for this.’ I just laughed. OK, whatever; knock yourself out!”
Celso was told he got the warning was because the fence Irma knocked over made it easy to access his pool and he needed to fix that.
Celso Perez: “Which I could not do that day because all the stores were closed. It’s not like I can go to Home Depot and find some temporary barrier.”
Celso said the code enforcement officer told him he would write up a report and be back to check on him.
Celso Perez: “And if my fence had not been put back up when he came back, he would have to write me a fine or fine me for that.”
Now Celso was really irritated.
Celso Perez: “At the time this officer was out here, we didn’t have power, we didn’t have food, we didn’t have ice. He is crazy, ridiculous. The mayor said that the county would help us recover from the storm and were there to help us. Before the county picks up the debris, the code enforcement guy will beat them to it and some for having my fence down, write me a ticket or something. I’m mad, very upset about this.”
Celso says he understands the fence needs to be put up, but…
Celso Perez: “Give us a minute to breathe. Let us get our power back on. And I wouldn’t mind if they told me that a few days down the line or due time but it bothers me that they came out here just a few hours after the storm had passed.”
Well Howard, does a government agency have to give residents a little time before they start going after them?
Howard Finkelstein, 7News legal expert: “This is outrageous. After Irma, people were stressed, they were worried and for a government official to slap a warning notice on them to add to their misery is insulting. Incredibly, it is legal but should Miami-Dade County be doing it? No. The timing was awful.”
I contacted Miami-Dade County and found out Celso was not alone.
After Irma, the county handed out 680 pool barrier safety notices and 177 electrical hazard safety notices to homeowners suffering damage from Irma.
The county stood by their decision to hand out these notices right after Irma.
A building official wrote, “The safety notice is neither a notice of violation warning nor a citation. It is important that we reach residents in the immediate aftermath of the storm, because that is when conditions are most dangerous, and taking steps to protect life is a critical part of the recovery process.”
A notice alerts the owner that there is a potential hazard present that they may not be aware of.
Celso Perez: “I want the public to know what the county is doing out there.”
Celso couldn’t get a company out to replace his fence yet and put this up … still stunned at what the county did.
Celso Perez: “Shame on Miami-Dade County for harassing the residents and not coming out here and helping us with the trees and do without power. Should have brought us ice not a citation for having a down fence.”
Should the county have been handing out notices right after the storm? The county thinks absolutely; they are helping to save lives. Celso says by hitting him with that after the storm, all they are doing is creating more stress and headaches for homeowners trying to clean up and rebuild.
Miserable m*****f*****s!

Personally I'm sentimental, and generally friendly.
So I'd just have beaten the sumbitch to death with a baseball bat on the spot, and then let the county know that a tree had fallen on his head. (The fact that the tree in question was ash, about 36" in length, and from Louisville KY would thus preclude any claim that I had made any false official statement. I'd simply be exercising some economy with the whole truth.)



But if someone had a chainsaw handy, and had seen Scarface, I would not be a purist in thinking up ways to deal with the problem of such a pestilential infestation after a catastrophe.

Hundreds of unsolved missing persons cases prove that in the South, there ain't much gators and hogs won't eat if you leave it out for 'em in the woods and swamps overnight.

As it is, every one of those city inspectors who've signed so much as a single citation should be summarily suspended without pay for 6 months, handed a shovel, and told they will only be reinstated if they can get 180 days' worth of citizen affidavits of them shoveling sh*t and cleaning up debris, within 180 days, with no days off. Their supervisors should get the same deal, except for a year. They would also all have to provide genealogical proof that their mothers and fathers were married to each other.

'Cuz I'm easy like that.
 

Mulisha: Don't Be This Guy

h/t Mason Dixon Tactical


Keyboard Alert!
If you read the linked cautionary tale, you may lose control of ingested beverages! Be warned!

Apparently, MDT found something to play with on the 'net. (Save yourselves! Don't play with it!) And found one of the certified President's Hundred of The Most Retarded LARPers Gone Sociopathic On The Internet.
What more can be said about that other than I guess if Tolkien could think up “The Hobbit” and “The Lord of the Rings”, these imbeciles can play their sovereign citizen BS games and think up all the little things to make them “appear” legitimate. Of course…. “Red Ink Oath”….sounds legit…..  The problem is, we know LotR’s was fantasy, these jokers are serious.

Said @$$clown isn't just stolen valor, but pretty much a walking criminal fraud case, coupled with a legit insanity defense just waiting to happen.

He joined (at the ripe old age of never-served-in-a-real-military-unit 34 -- unless he's being mum about the BCD or psych discharge, for PR purposes) as a private. Mind you, he's so private he's not actually in anything legally constituted. Bootstraps that into a shake-and-bake Looneytenantcy, then skips Kapitan straight to Major Malfunction, stays there for 14 years, and then vaults over Looneytenant Kernel straight to full birdshit popcorn Kernel.

He can do this because he owns the website, and it's all legal (in the cacophony of voices in his head) because he's also the admin of the 4th Continental Congress (which is one of his other websites). When you own Congress, you can be anything, right? How convenient.

This is something to remember when you think about how the nation's going to turn out:
this guy can vote and own weapons.

And he's probably rocking the finest martial offerings made by such worthies as Kel-tec, Hi-Point, and the Bud K catalog.

It took me about 15 minutes to dox him, and get his full name, birthdate, address, e-mail and telephone numbers, failed business information, etc. Gotta love the internet.

I'm sending out some notes for the local D.A., the state AG, the state and county EMS agencies, and probably the CA ARNG and CSMR offices, along with a CC to the folks over at Far Beyond Insanity. Pretty sure his FB shenanigans won't be as funny when he's being chatted up by The Man.

It only took me most of the night and this morning to heal from the pain of laughing myself right out of my chair, and the muscle spasms to my diaphragm.

That should count as PT. Or, if I had a Mulisha, I could award myself a Purple Heart. Or become Grand Admiral of the Afghani Navy, and team captain of the Jamaican Olympic Bobsled Team. Pretty much the same way US Naval Academy plebes get rank on their bathrobes, and steampunk airship commodores get medals and ribbons: i.e. whatever’s on sale in the crafts and sewing departments at Hobby Lobby.

File Under: Opioid Deaths - I Told You So

h/t Bayou Renaissance Man
 
So, exactly as I recently explained awhile back, the "opioid overdose epidemic" is overwhelmingly street addicts checking out permanently from seeking higher highs due to acetyl fentanyl-laced heroin, not codgers eating their bottles of Norco and Percocet.

Evidence to the point:

Link
Authorities confiscated nearly 195 pounds of fentanyl in a pair of busts that prosecutors said included one sting that netted 32 million lethal doses of the drug, an opioid 50 times stronger than heroin.
Four people were arrested after the busts in August and September that also netted 75 pounds of heroin and cocaine. Bridget G. Brennan, New York City's special narcotics prosecutor, said the busts come as overdose deaths hit an all-time high in New York's five boroughs in 2016. 
"The sheer volume of fentanyl pouring into the city is shocking," she said. "It's not only killing a record number of people in New York City, but the city is used as a hub of regional distribution for a lethal substance that is taking thousands of lives throughout the Northeast."
 
In the first bust, on Aug. 1, 2017, police and federal agents seized more than 140 pounds of fentanyl — the most in the city's history — after watching Rogelio Alvardo-Robles and Blanca Flores-Solis receive what appeared to to be a package of cocaine from an unknown trafficker at a Walmart in Manhawkin, New Jersey. Authorities said that after the exchange, they went back to an apartment building in Queens' Kew Gardens neighborhood, where a DEA agent approached them and seized the alleged drugs.
 
Afterward, authorities said they got a search warrant for their apartment and found 97 packages of drugs in suitcases and a purse in a bedroom; 84 of the packages were either filled with pure fentanyl or heroin laced with the powerful drug. Authorities said the trove could have had enough doses to kill 32 million people from overdoses.
Then, on Sept. 5, authorities seized another 53 pounds of fentanyl-laced heroin and another 2 pounds of uncut fentanyl during a stop near Yankee Stadium in the Bronx. That bust came after detectives and DEA agents watched Edwin Guzman and Manuel Rivera-Santana pick up a duffel bag from men inside a tractor trailer and drove back into New York City.
 
After the stop police got a search warrant to open the locked duffel, and found 25 1-kilogram bricks with the drugs.
The four people arrested in the two busts each face criminal drug possession charges; Guzman and Rivera-Santana also face conspiracy counts.

For those of you striving against the residue of public-school mathematics, let's break that down: if 85 pounds of acetyl fentanyl would kill 32M people, that means the lethal dose is  (38,636 mgs divided by 32M LD50 doses =) 0.0012 mgs, i.e. 12 micrograms.
For reference, a grain of common table salt weighs between 300 and 600 micrograms.

Remember this the next time some potheaded large "L" Libertardian starts yapping about the people in the federal pen for "non-violent" drug offenses.
(Ask them to explain how legalizing bringing this sh*t into the country will result in less harm to society, after they've imported in a couple of duffel bags enough of their home-cooked crap to wipe out the entire population of NYFS and Pennsylvania. Because reasons.)

And to bring this the extra mile, I suspect someone at the DEA is smoking some seized product, because that would make the fentanyl somewhere around 1433 times more lethal than Sarin nerve gas. (>cough< Bullshit! >cough<) Common Core math at federal agencies for the win.

Nonetheless, offering the arrestees LWOP instead of execution for that level of dealing/distribution, in return for rolling over the entire supply chain, is the way to play this. Highest guy holding the bag gets the death penalty, everybody else gets shipped to some Chateau D'If-style hole, with a plate of food shoved through a slot morning and night, until they keel over. It sounds like the arrestees are just some more Dream Act folks, selling Americans the illegal poisons Americans won't sell.

Junkie ODs are Darwinism in action. And executions for drug peddling should be as common as parking tickets. So if we're going to have a War On Some Drugs, let's really make it a war. Starting with killing the enemy. What we have now is a Controlled Pressure On Distribution Pipelines To Maximize Cartel And Crooked Cop/Judge/Congressman Profits.

Also nota bene, none of the Libertardian Usual Suspects seriously argues for abandoning the War On Murder, the War On Armed Robbery, or the War On Rapists, despite the fact that these illegal activities have been going on since at least back to the time of Cain and Abel, predating the War On Some Drugs by something like 5900 years.
Why izzat, d'y'spose?

Fire And Prosecute Jackbooted Thugs XX


 

Tuesday, September 19, 2017

Flick Pick: Treasure Island

An apropos flashback:

Treasure Island
(Turner, 1990)

Ted Turner has certainly pulled some bonehead cinematic moves in his day. (Colorizing Casablanca, for instance.) But he's more than made up for that sort of general jackassery with the creation of no small number of excellent productions. Treasure Island is one of the best of those, made for US cable, and released in theatres abroad. There have been several film versions of Robert Louis Stevenson's classic pirate adventure yarn. (Nineteen, in fact, and nine teleplays, covering either the exact story, or derivatives of it. Including by the Muppets.) Skip all the others. This one is bar none the best yardstick by which to judge every other attempt, and leaves the other versions in the dust. Opening with Oliver Reed coming ashore as Billy Bones, and moving to Christopher Lee as Blind Pew, it only gets better as it goes. Christian Bale, then but 16, stars as Jim Hawkins, and the story and dialogue hew faithfully to Stevenson's work. And midway through the piece, Charlton Heston, aged 67 years when this was filmed and with a full and legendary career behind him, swaggers onscreen as the best, truest, and most swashbuckling Long John Silver ever to play the role, and carries the tale and the role magnificently from then until the closing scenes of the film. Shot mostly on location in Cornwall England, and on board the recreated Bounty II, originally made by MGM for Marlon Brando's 1962 version of that tale, the film is well-directed by Heston's son Fraser, with a wonderful Celtic-influenced seagoing score by Paddy Moloney, and played by the Chieftains. It thus satisfies historical purists, delights the ear, and engages the mind with this telling of a longtime favorite tale.
One of Turner's other boneheaded moves (or even Warner Bros.', take your pic) is that a lot of the Turner Productions catalog hasn't been made available for years. This one was only released in September of 2011. I jumped on it, lest it disappear again. So if you fancy this tale, and like it well-told, by all means get a copy of this flick before it's gone for another 20 years. If you don't, somebody's liable to hand you a Black Spot, and we're not sure what happens to you after that.


UPDATE: Somehow I missed putting this one up on September the 19th the first time I posted it. Sink me. Error rectified. And it's still the best version ever filmed.

  
And when the sun sinks below the yardarm tonight, there'll be no points guessin' what's goin' into the panopticon herabouts, in 70-inch UHD glory.

Gunner Mongo Likes

h/t Tam


Behold, me hearties, the Silencerco Maxim 50.
$999 in New World dollars? Sold, sez I.

What be that foul humor?

Arr, it be the smell of every shitweasel in Sacramento evacuatin' 'is britches, fer this beastie be a muzzleloader, ergo not a firearm, no port of entry lubber's 4473, nor any scurvy waiting period, and no bilge-swillin' $200 stamp. They can ship it straight to me own port o' call direct, this very day. I may even stock meself an entire small arms locker with 'em, for boardin' parties an' such.

"That smell...that black powder smell! Nothing else smells like that. It smells like...victory!"


Attention To Articles: One O' These Things Is Not Like The Others

h/t Kenny


Fer them what're still green to the ways o' wisdom, and prone to lubberly dumbassery:

This is a Ship's Surgeon:

These are ye Surgeon's Mates:

These are Masters-at-arms:

The latter are a fine thing fer breakin' up mutinies, crackin' the heads o' those too long in the rum barrel, settlin' quarrels at cantinas ashore, and generally keepin' order below decks,

Mayhap now ye know why they call 'em "beat cops"...

but a poor choice for tendin' to the medical arts. (Ye brighter lanterns o' the crew may have noticed that surgeons don't carry belaying pins in their tool chests.)

They know Jack and Squat about the medicinal arts (an' Jack jumped ship at the last port).
Here be the lesson:

Scuttlebutt
Police officers in Philadelphia said they had to revive a pregnant woman who overdosed twice within just 45 minutes.
The police officers were patrolling Monday night when a passerby told them of an unconscious pregnant woman, according to WLKY.
The officers, who were with the Southeastern Pennsylvania Transportation Authority (SEPTA), gave the woman Narcan, an antidote for opiates, according to WPVI.
It took two doses of Narcan for the woman, who officers believe is around 7 months pregnant, to regain consciousness.
“At that time, the Philadelphia Fire Department came over to the location and she refused their services,” SEPTA Police LT. Michael Fox said to WPVI. “She didn't want to go to the hospital. She didn't want any kind of medical treatment. She got up and left the area.”
 
But 45 minutes later, the officers again saw the woman passed out on a sidewalk, according to TribLive.
This time, paramedics drove her to a local hospital.
Only a swab with ballast fer brains could be surprised by that display of dimwittery.

As ye Ship's Surgeon points out fer yer further edification,

"Only an unlettered jack-a-knapes wouldn't know that Narcan isn't a Magic Cure for a surplus of Morphia, 'tis but a respite for awhile, and the dose must be repeated frequently, even in shore hospitals, as any foole know. Untutored baboons from shore party master-at-arms aren't taught this (which is a failure of training as much as a lack of the brains God gave a seagull), which is why they ought not have given the first dose, or else demanded the ambulance ride on the first occasion. This were not two overdoses by the doxy, but rather one - aided by two idiots masquerading as surgeon's mates and as ignorant o' the medical arts as babes in the woods.

But being no brighter than any other piles of dunnage, they took the word of a opiate-headed doxy over the dictates of common sense.

This is why we don't allow the masters-at-arms to practice medicine and surgery on the hospital deck.

Thus endeth the lesson."

Pay heed, me hearties, and don't mistake Jimmy Legs with his belaying pin for a ruddy medical man o' the likes of ye Ship's Surgeon. Unless ye be inclined to argue th' point at issue with Davy Jones aft'r'ards.

Read more here: http://www.miamiherald.com/news/nation-world/national/article174091471.html#storylink=cpy

Poxy Whore Shrillary Caught In Articles With Antifa fils de putains



Shewin' her true colors as twice the lice-ridden strumpet her fat husband be, an' surprisin' naught from stem to stern, poxy whore Shrillary were shiftin' ponderous hordes o' treasure to none other than a pack o' scurvy Antifa fils de putains:

heaving line
Hillary, who long during the campaign trail condemned “dark-money” Super-PACs, has funneled over 800K from her Campaign over to one of these very same outfits. It has been revealed that the failed presidential candidate’s Super-PAC, “Onward Together”, is heavily backing “resistance” and Alt-Left extremist groups such as ANTIFA.
O fer the good auld days, when the likes o' such'd be strapped athwart the muzzle of a bow chaser, the gunner ordered to touch off, and her measly guts used to decorate the bow waves, an' feed the crabs.

Instead ye'll hear naught but silence from her reg'lar customers, thievin' bastards and ne'er-do-wells the lot, an' fit fer nothin' so fine as a cask of powder and a bucket o' grapeshot, sent with tender lovin' care at the speed o' heat into their quarterdeck.

Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

 

This be fair warnin', shipmates:
Today be International Talk Like A Pirate Day.
Postin' may be affected, some'at, as it strikes me fancy.

An' if any lily-livered landlubbers have any squawks from the poop deck, it'll be over the side and keelhaulin' with 'em, and anything left after'ards fed to sharks.
I'll not be strikin' me colors for the likes of them that's not worth a bucket o' chum.

We be sailing under Cap'n Roberts' Articles, if ye please.


An' fer any bilge rats what be ign'rant of such niceties, here be the only friendly thing ye'll see this day:


An' let no man think himself these be naught but ruddy "guidelines"!

Avast! Turn to, ye f'o'c'sle swabs!
No quarter given!
Fair warned ye be, sez I.

 


Fire And Prosecute Jackbooted Thugs XIX

 



Monday, September 18, 2017

The Emwhat?


h/t Irish

So, apparently there was another self-masturbatory Hollywood awards show last night, in which they dissed all of America, and specifically the president. (IOW, business as usual.)
That they simple cut to the chase, and simply award giant golden dildos, either to symbolize what they are, or what they use these awards for, was apparently considered too spot-on some good number of years past. Seeing actors and actresses clutching and waving their big golden dicks would be unseemly, almost as if you'd interviewed them with a hidden camera in private.

Which award would, of course, be nicknamed "the Johnson"

Strangely, the yapping jackholes of cultural decay can't seem to figure why TV audiences are tuning out in droves, and Hollywood had the worst summer in a decade, which is pretty phenomenal for businesses that have only been around 50 and 100 or so years, respectively. It's almost like mouthy liberal jackasses can't connect the dots between their incessant douchebag whining, and people nationwide telling them to f**k off, and voting with their feet, their wallets, and their remotes. Crazy, right? Next, they'll be baffled that rain makes you wet. (Chicken Little, call your agent.)

But Madison Avenue can read a Nielsen report, and TV advertising will be getting to bargain prices at his rate. Especially for the awards shows. The only down side to that is the "stars" will be moving into middle-class neighborhoods again, out of necessity.

Not that it's surprising, because one of the neighbor kids (and yes, an actual kid, and an actual neighbor) has an Emmy Award. I saw it, Googled it, and she earned it. So, in the grand scheme of things, an Emmy is roughly equivalent to the US military's National Defense Service Medal ribbon:


If you have a pulse rate, and are serving while the US is shooting at someone, even if you never do, you get one. Period.

It's about the same with Emmys. It's mainly a participation trophy for being on the boob tube long enough. Just ask Susan Lucci. Or my neighbor's kid.

I can't really blame the mostly college- and high school-dropout asstardian legions in Hollyweird for being antagonistic jackholes, or congratulating each other for all that generally imaginary "suffering" they do for their craft. The number of winners of any award there who have actually rendered services to the country can be accurately measured on your thumbs most years, if not your nose, and some years, even by amputees of all those body parts.

And going on about them as if it's abnormal for two-years olds to throw tantrums, or dogs to piss on fire hydrants, holds those special ed short-bus snowflakes to an impossibly high standard, one that most of them never achieve: rational adult behavior.

For about 99.68% of Hollywood, those three words are between one and three insurmountable achievements they'll never achieve nor be awarded, even by each other.

So before you get over-concerned about TV jerking itself off in public again, remember this inside-the-industry Rule of Thumb, proven every day since Philo Farnsworth inflicted the invention on an unsuspecting culture:

Theatre is life.
Film is art.
Television is furniture.

When you regularly see (need I add "award-winning"?) producers and directors in the medium sporting the exact t-shirts bearing that message, the secret is out, boys and girls.
There's a reason that, until the decadence of the 1920s, most decent folks regarded actors and actresses as circus freaks and prostitutes. The only thing that's changed in most cases is awarding them the opprobrium they deserve.

There's also a reason your TV and mine have both a channel selector, and an on/off switch.
I use them ruthlessly.

I haven't routinely watched broadcast TV as such, in over a decade.
I miss it like trees miss cold in springtime.

Trolling For Inmates: Amazon Caught Fronting A Sting For BATFE

From The Police State Ramps Up Department:



Link
Amazon.com, which has always prohibited the sale of firearms, has been openly selling a Glock-compatible full auto conversion device that turns a pistol into a fully automatic weapon. We are not linking to the purchase page for the simple reason that Amazon.com is running a trap, and we don’t want anyone to accidentally fall into that trap and end up spending 10 years in federal prison for buying this device from Amazon.
This device, for sale on Amazon.com for a mere $68 and described as an “Airsoft” accessory, is part of a sting operation where Amazon.com is attempting to entrap its own customers so that they can be raided by the ATF and charged with felony crimes for illegally possessing class-III (full auto) firearms conversion devices, which are strictly prohibited under federal law unless you complete an exhaustive application and approval process with the ATF.
Well-played, @$$holes.

BATFE gets revealed, yet again, as the same shitweasels that pulled off Ruby Ridge and Waco.

Amazon, and Jeff Bezos, get caught with their noses wedged up BATFE's sphincter. That should really help their bottom line in a tight economy. (Pssst! Jeffy! Maybe ask Target (NYSE:TGT) how that pro-tranny bathroom policy has gone for them this past year!)

And millions of unsuspecting Glock owners now realize that they can avoid the sting, but now know that there's a simple piece of hardware that can, with about 5 minutes' work, turn their tactical tupperware (relax, Glock-tards, I have a few m'self) into a totally illegal full-auto machine-pistol, should they feel the need, the need for speed!


I'm sure the home 3D printing market, and the ability of folks to machine parts at home with minimal effort, won't have any effect on things like this showing up regularly in the future, should the atmosphere where average folks live get completely sporty.

Nosiree, no chance of that happening at all.
There's no way to rule innocent men. The only power the government has is the power to crack down on criminals. Well, when there aren't enough criminals, one makes them. One declares so many things to be a crime that it becomes impossible for men to live without breaking laws. - Ayn Rand
Once again, cue the .Gov fist in glove with malignant corporatocracy, with adding another dystopian book, this time Atlas Shrugged, like Farenheit 451, Animal Farm, and 1984 before it, to the list of those that went from fictional work to instructional training manuals.

Couple that with Goolag(tm)'s decision to drop and de-list free-speech Gab, and it's past time for the AG to fire up a little anti-trust lawsuit or three. Let's redistribute a little wealth there. Bankruptcy concentrates the mind wonderfully on corporate priorities.

I'm Shocked! Shocked, I Say, To Find Out...



The second arrest in UK tube firebombing was another 21-year old peaceful moderate non-violent adherent of the Religion of Peace. Yoyo Imawannajihad (I think I got that right) was a 21 y.o. Syrian rapefugee.

"Can you tell me please, vere are de nuclear wessels?"

The other arrestee, a Syrian 18 y.o, was welcomed into Britistan after his foster parents were lied to, and told he was a teenager of  only 15 years, by Some Bogus Rapefugee Agency.

The unsuspecting family sheltering him had hosted and fostered some hundreds of previous troubled children in their lifetimes, being awarded the MBE by the Queen herself
for their lifetime's deeds in that respect.

Frog, meet scorpion.

Now they're away, while Scotland Yard and MI-5 take their house and attic apart bit by bit for evidentiary clues. 
Link: Mirror UK
Other neighbours told how terror police recovered explosives from the Jones’ house. A mum – who identified herself as Carrie and lives on the evacuated road – said police told her they had found 15 firearms at the house and a bomb in the garden.
Which is of course, unpossible, since Britistan banned illegal firearms. So that must be a typo in the reporting, right?

 
Well played, jihadi invaders.
 
Either Britistan rounds them all up and ships them out, en masse, or they get to replay the Crusades on their home turf, with both hands tied behind their backs.
 
Which they choose is merely an excuse for more pretzels and popcorn over here.

Irma Feedback





From recent comments on an earlier "Irma" post, here's a reader update on the Central FL aftermath of The Storm Haxo Said Was "Nothing":

Stormsurfer said...
Aesop,
An after-action report if I may. 
Irma hit us as a Cat 2. Winds 100-105. Gotta admit that it was spooky. 
A small percentage in our area of Central Florida are still without power. Although a couple of the more rural farming and ranching counties really got hammered and will suffer the effects for weeks if not months to come. 
We loaned out our two generators and two of our daughters and their families stayed with us until their power was restored. I was amazed at the number of people who had generators but no gas or even gas cans. 
I was getting up at 3am so that I could drive around locating gas stations which had received fuel deliveries during the night and get my many (not my first rodeo) gas cans filled before going to work and then during the day my wife would deliver them to family and friends in need (and collect their empty cans so we could repeat the process). 
Internet in this area was only restored yesterday so I'm trying to catch up on news. Thanks for your coverage of this storm. There's something reassuring just knowing that folks we'll never meet choose to give a damn about their fellow men. 
BTW, the river house on the Weeki Wachee river fared just fine. Come kayak next time you're in this part of the country. 
Regards,
Stormsurfer

Best Wishes right back at ya, Stormsurfer.

Happy to share my give-a-damn about my fellow Americans.
And for the benefit of some of your less-prepared neighbors, a word from Captain Obvious:


Glad you and yours made it through alive. The annual emergencies are always far more likely to occur than the catastrophic world-ending ones, but the "little" problems are always good dress rehearsals for the big ones, to help us work out the kinks in our preparedness planning.

My thought and prayers continue for your collective rebuilding efforts. Until the next time.

Fire And Prosecute Jackbooted Thugs XVIII




Sunday, September 17, 2017

We Need A March Madness



Supposedly, with Trump's apparent misstep on DACA, the entire ice cream fortress has melted away, and Trump is finished. If you've been keeping track at home, that would be the 417th time since January 2015 that we've been assured by the best and brightest minds in media - the munchkin poster children of intellect than which it is impossible to be smaller - that this was so to a metaphysical certitude. Rest assured that until 11:59 on some January 20th three or seven years hence, if fate allows him to live so long, some brainless, breathless mediatard (or twenty such) will solemnly assure us that something Trump did will mean his presidency is now "over", exactly as they will do daily from this day to that one.
Don't you believe it.

Now look at that masthead pic up there.
That is called push ball. There are actual rules, but it resembles nothing so much as political life in a democratic republic. Like this one.

You aren't going to be the one to win it single-handedly. Ever.

But if you're not on the field, what you want doesn't matter. All our lives there have been those who decided not to raise their hand and speak, not to go out for that team or sport, not to take that trip, or make that stand, or utter that thought. We have most of a generation who sees that as being a goal in life: being the person who never stood up for anything.

Well, allow me to say heartily: Fuck That Guy.

It's your life, and no one can live it for you, or choose what you do with it. But choosing not to play is a choice, and one with consequences.


If all you've been doing turns out to be banging your head on a brick wall, well, it always feels so good to stop. But that involves not backing failure, and showing up for something smarter than whatever you've been doing. Not bailing out entirely. Pick your battles, especially where and when, but don't for a second think you can skip them.

But getting back to Push Ball, you do what you can where you are, and if everybody is pushing in the same direction, you beat team after team trying to push in every direction.

Those of us on the right seem to have some trouble pushing in the same direction.

 
Hence my title.
We need to write down the eight/sixteen/thirty-two/whatever ideas and run them head to head against each other, ruthlessly, until we can get down to one that nobody will back down on.

Stick up for the other ones, even your pet cause, and make your displeasure known, but make it an ironclad rule that any attempt to breach Thing Prime will bring down the entire can of whoop @$$ on the offender. And then you'll go after his family.

I don't know what that thing is, or should be.


But somebody somewhere better start running the numbers, and getting a handle on it. And then get everyone, or near enough, to agree that messing with it will make the trespasser wish they were dead, or plead insanity, rather than risk coming within a country mile of it.

Then nail down Thing Two, then Three, and so on, until you've made victory certain, and defeat impossible.
"Ultimate excellence lies not in winning every battle, but in defeating the enemy without ever fighting.
Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win." - Sun Tzu, The Art Of War 

Otherwise we'll all be hawking our own version of this:



Fun to watch, funnier to mock, but really, truly awful to find out one has head-of-the-table reservations for a 20-foot party sub sh*t sandwich oneself.

Fire And Prosecute Jackbooted Thugs XVII




Saturday, September 16, 2017

Saturday Puttering

Because First Amendment.

Fresh from the EasyBake Meme Oven, hot and tasty. Enjoy.