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"A baby is God's opinion that the world should go on." - Carl Sandburg

"I’ve had a hell of a run. It’s 20 years next year or 20 years about now. Hell of a run. I couldn’t have gone any farther."

Gets moving at around 13 minutes.

On the media’s treatment of Hillary: “You’ve got to be the greatest you can be now–now. Before this country is so completely altered and we’re left with Hillary’s brain in the Oval Office in a jar. Cuz that’s what we’re getting. She is old and she’s sick. She is not a contender. They’re making her a contender with these propped up Saturday Night Live things; it’s like a head on a stick. And then on the Today show with [Savannah Guthrie]–a head on a stick. She is not a viable, vibrant leader for this country of 300–including the illegals, 380 million–Americans. So the media is trying to put us to sleep.”

On the American public: “How sick are the American people right now? I’ve been saying that they could put Hillary Clinton’s brain in a jar in the Oval Office and she would be elected. People are really sick… People are willing to be made over in the image of these corporations.”

On relying on others’ online platforms: “The reason there’s so much anger online, also, is a newspaper like the Washington Post will leave a comment section. They don’t care what you’re saying. They don’t care what you’re thinking. That’s why you get this anger, that, ‘oh, I’m out here as a citizen and I’m operating in their playground.’ Make your own playground! The reason I’m here, Alex, is you’ve made your own playground.”

“You get famous on YouTube… you’re playing in Google’s hell pit. Make your own place. The Internet allows you to make your own dynamic, your own universe. Why are you gravitating toward somebody else’s universe? And this is kind of, again, where Drudge, to me, when I look at it right now, is a correction to this groupthink that has–there’s no difference from any of these websites. You go up and down, we talk about this. What’s the difference between the websites? Between a Slate or a Salon or a BuzzFeed or a HuffPo–what is the difference? There isn’t any. And this is a travesty. It’s almost like a weird conglomerate of groupthink that has developed in a dynamic era that should be vibrating. It should be vibrating, it should be controversial.”

gerardvanderleun : October 13, 15  |  Your Say (3)  | PermaLink: Permalink

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Grace Notes

Photograph by by Carles -Vilarrasa

Have the gates of death been opened unto thee? or hast thou seen the doors of the shadow of death? -- Job 38 17

When people find out I dropped dead on October 13 of 2011, they often ask me if I saw "the white light." They are disappointed when I tell them I did not. They’ve come to believe in the light, believe in it in a very literal way. They’ve heard it is seen and they’d like continuing confirmation of this sighting. My report always, as I said, disappoints. For some it would seem that even though I was dead, I was not dead enough. Still, I was dead and I am sorry to disappoint in not being able to report anything other than a timeless blank between two moments; a dark with no dimension or duration between a light and a light.

The light of life left me in one swift instant much as the light goes out when you flip the switch to "off." The light of life returned to me in the very next instant as if someone slowly turned up a dimmer switch in a small room.

In one moment I was standing on my front porch looking at children running about in the playground across the street. The very next moment I was looking up from my bed at the sound-muffled ceiling of the ICU in Harbor View Hospital in Seattle. A voice like footsteps coming closer down a long hallway was repeating and repeating, “You are in Harbor View. You’ve had a heart attack. It’s daytime....

Thus, after being held in a coma for 13 days, I was returned to life.

Thus, tick became tock.

Between those two moments I have no information to report since, to my mind and memory, there are no moments between those two. They are found side by side in my mind; an enjambment bracketing a caesura. The thirteen days between them have no duration at all. In a sense the only clue they provide in their utter nonexistence would be one to the true dimensions of eternity.

Some people seem to think that, with no light to report, my cut-rate resurrection is something rather modest, a common outcome of our enlightened, medically advanced age available to all. They express thanks that the 911 medical crew got to me as fast as it did and knew how to, in effect, jump start my heart. To those who don't get a comic book resurrection mine seems only a mundane report on a modern ability. They don’t find it miraculous. But that is only because they are deaf, dumb, and blind to the miraculous. I am not. It was my miracle. And a miracle it was.

The roots of my miracle go back many years and begin, as so many things do these days, online in a long correspondence that became, in time, a deep and abiding friendship and love. Part of that friendship entailed that, although we lived in separate towns, we spent some parts of each year visiting. In this particular autumn she was visiting me. And on this particular day she had -- for obscure reasons -- postponed her regular daily walk and, upon return, postponed her regular post-walk shower. This meant that during the time she would normally be either out of the house or under running water she just happened standing nearby when my heart stopped. The result was that she started the 911 response within seconds after I stopped breathing. Because of this the three units dispatched to help me came within minutes and returned me to life and transported me to the hospital where I spent the next 13 days suspended between a light and a light.

Some seem to feel that miracles only happen in the center of a bright light with a large boom and a loud voice out of a whirlwind; Imax miracles in Surroundsound. Perhaps they do. I’ve no experience with them. My experience has only been with the miracle of a long chain of small events, happenings, and abiding love that have given to me this extra year of being alive in the midst of the miracle of creation; creation as it is, both miraculous or mundane.

My formal birthday is the day after Christmas. I’ve never liked the 26th of December. It’s hard to try to have your birthday party on the day after the biggest birthday party of the year.

Today though, it strikes me that I have a new birthday -- a 'rebirthday' if you will. And that’s what I am going to celebrate for as many years as are left to me, my Rebirthday.

After a long, long string of dry sunny days this day, Saturday the 13th of October in the year of our Lord 2012, is overcast and raining. In previous years I would have shrugged and grumbled at the inclement weather. Today I am going out in my back yard and shower in it. Because today I know I am both blessed and, as we all are on every day in this mysterious life within the light, reborn within the miracle.

[First published October 2012]

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In the hayed field thick with dusted mist,
As the noon whistle of the village hissed,
We noted how the dead were neatly placed,
How all lay labeled, how all were given space.

We remarked the craft of marble wreath,
And proposed that those who lay beneath
Were clad in the fashion of their day,
Some fitting shroud in which to greet eternities of clay.

Nearby we saw the fruits of Arbor Day and said
How lovely were the trees; how well pruned and fed.
The trees ignored our gaze, as was their right,
And spawned a host of shadows, imitating night.

The hill before us, like some weathered tomb
Passed by in spring, above us loomed
With high and wind smoothed walls of slate
On which the trees' sharp branches scraped

An etching of themselves slashed into sky.
But we were late into our day and a bird's cry
Made us spy the gray and shaken sheets of storm,
That sheathed us soon and drove us down

Into the brambles where the ancient Indians lay,
Sheltered by the weeds from the weather of the day,
And resolved beneath to, sightless, calmly wait
Upon the last night's opening of the gateless gate.

"The weave of roots took our eyes away.
The seeping rain removed our clay.
Our husked dried skin is steeped in sleep.
If you would awaken us, you must dig deep

"Beneath the earth of whittled leaves
Beneath the grief that no longer grieves;
To awaken us you need a careful touch,
For dig you must, but never dig too much."

We turned from the field and its rustle of birds,
Where sunlight had played on summer words,
Playing now to winter's chiseled stones,
To the hissing silence of abandoned bones.

Their stillness slashed dry grass with scythes of wind,
And made us wish we could a thousand acts rescind,
But we knew our wishes were for naught,
For what is easily sold is dearly bought.

Instead, we startled life in a whirr of wings,
And in that moment came to present things.
We went home, made tea, and sat together,
Held hands at evening and talked about the weather.

Vanderleun : October 12, 15  |  Your Say (1)  | PermaLink: Permalink

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"The truest of all men was the Man of Sorrows, and the truest of all books is Solomon's, and Ecclesiastes is the fine hammered steel of woe. "All is vanity." ALL. This wilful world hath not got hold of unchristian Solomon's wisdom yet. But he who dodges hospitals and jails, and walks fast crossing graveyards, and would rather talk of operas than hell; calls Cowper, Young, Pascal, Rousseau, poor devils all of sick men; and throughout a care-free lifetime swears by Rabelais as passing wise, and therefore jolly;- not that man is fitted to sit down on tomb-stones, and break the green damp mould with unfathomably wondrous Solomon.

"But even Solomon, he says, "the man that wandereth out of the way of understanding shall remain" (i.e. even while living) "in the congregation of the dead." Give not thyself up, then, to fire, lest it invert thee, deaden thee; as for the time it did me. There is a wisdom that is woe; but there is a woe that is madness. And there is a Catskill eagle in some souls that can alike dive down into the blackest gorges, and soar out of them again and become invisible in the sunny spaces. And even if he for ever flies within the gorge, that gorge is in the mountains; so that even in his lowest swoop the mountain eagle is still higher than other birds upon the plain, even though they soar. -Melville, Moby Dick - The Try-Works

Dal tema del film "The Mission"
Ennio Morricone e Dulce Pontes

Vanderleun : October 12, 15  |  Your Say (3)  | PermaLink: Permalink

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American Studies

I created a chart to ensure that budding journalists

understand how to properly frame a story involving any type of shooting, terror attack, or other violent crime. Remember that the job of the Objective Journalist™ is not to tell the audience what happened, but to expand the event into an indictment of Western culture. -- Jon Gabriel, Ed.| Ricochet


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From the opening episode of this year's Homeland: "They're there for one reason and one reason only, to die for the Caliphate and usher in a world without infidels. That's their strategy and it's been that way since the 7th century."

Asked what he would do, Quinn suggests 200,000 soldiers on the ground and an equal number of doctors and teachers. Told that that is not feasible and asked for another solution, Quinn says, "Hit reset -- pound Raqqah into a parking lot."

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A disturbance in the Narrative as reflected on Memeorandum.

Kevin McCarthy dropping out potentially puts Donald Trump only 218 votes short of becoming Speaker of the House.

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5-Minute Arguments



Via HappyAcres and taken from The Menace of Egalitarianism @ Mises Daily


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Full book in PDF form is to be found at The Discovery of Freedom | Mises Institute


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AKA: "Obama's Foreign Policy in two and a half minutes."

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American Studies

By Son of Brock Landers at 28 Sherman:


What are some of the things or traits known about Hitler?
1. Joined a socialist party.
2. Meteoric rise despite no real executive or administrative skills.
3. Proficient speaker, great speaker in the eyes of his crowd, meh to non-believers
4. Rather weird personal relations to the opposite gender. Romantically linked to a niece who killed herself. Kind of weird relationship with Eva Braun; fraudulent marriage at the end. She complained of no sex to Speer often.
5. Played up being single and a stand in mate for a sliver of lonely female voters.
6. Anti-gun.
7. Faggy about his diet.
8. Medical history is a mystery. His personal doctor was known to specialize in venereal diseases. Did he have Parkinsons at the end? Was the shaking and mania just due to syphilis?
9. Didn't like Jews.
10. Was everything to everybody during his rise. Altered what he pushed to the audience he spoke to, which is smart politics, but reveals the fraud of democracy.
11. Pro-violence if it served his political needs.
12. Weird family issues. Parents were both dead before he was 20.
13. Had a lot of gay mannerisms. No one was going to accuse him of being butch.
14. He had financial difficulties until he was elected into office and Mein Kampf started to sell like hot cakes.

Now why not use the above traits and find a different Hitler. One they missed. One that hits close to home. Let's look at the list but with notes for comparison.

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22 Professing to be wise, they became fools,

23 and exchanged the glory of the incorruptible God for an image in the form of corruptible man and of birds and four-footed animals and crawling creatures.

24 Therefore God gave them over in the lusts of their hearts to impurity, so that their bodies would be dishonored among them.

25 For they exchanged the truth of God for a lie, and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator, who is blessed forever. Amen.

26 For this reason God gave them over to degrading passions; for their women exchanged the natural function for that which is unnatural,

27 and in the same way also the men abandoned the natural function of the woman and burned in their desire toward one another, men with men committing indecent acts and receiving in their own persons the due penalty of their error.

28 And just as they did not see fit to acknowledge God any longer, God gave them over to a depraved mind, to do those things which are not proper,

29 being filled with all unrighteousness, wickedness, greed, evil; full of envy, murder, strife, deceit, malice; they are gossips, 30 slanderers, haters of God, insolent, arrogant, boastful, inventors of evil, disobedient to parents,

31 without understanding, untrustworthy, unloving, unmerciful;

32 and although they know the ordinance of God, that those who practice such things are worthy of death, they not only do the same, but also give hearty approval to those who practice them.

Romans 1:24-32

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aretrosexmargin.jpgEvery time my TV is on, all that can be seen is effeminate men prancing about, redecorating houses and talking about foreign concepts like "style" and "feng shui."

Heterosexual, homosexual, bisexual, transsexual, metrosexual, non-sexual; blue, green, and purple-sexual!.... Bogus definitions have taken over the urban and suburban world!

Real men of the world, stand up, scratch your butts, belch, and yell "ENOUGH!"

I hereby announce the start of a new offensive in the culture Wars, the Retrosexual movement.

The Code :

A Retrosexual man, no matter what the woman insists, PAYS FOR THE DATE.

A Retrosexual man opens doors for a lady. Even for the ones that fit that term only because they are female.

A Retrosexual DEALS WITH IT. Be it a flat tire, break-in into your home, or a natural disaster, you DEAL WITH IT.

A Retrosexual not only eats red meat. He often kills it himself.

A Retrosexual doesn't worry about living to be 90. It's not how long you live, but how well. If you're 90 years old and still smoking cigars and drinking, I salute you. If you are still having sex, you are a God.

A Retrosexual does not use more hair or skin products than a woman. Women have several supermarket aisles of stuff. Retrosexuals need an end cap.

A Retrosexual does not dress in clothes from Hot Topic when he's 30 years old.

A Retrosexual should know how to properly kill stuff (or people) if need be. This falls under the "DEALING WITH IT" portion of The Code.

A Retrosexual watches no TV show with "Queer" in the title.

A Retrosexual does not let neighbors screw up rooms in his house on national TV.

A Retrosexual should not give up excessive amounts of manliness for women. Some is inevitable, but major reinvention of yourself will only lead to you becoming a froo-froo little pussy, and in the long run, she ain't worth it.

A Retrosexual is allowed to seek professional help for major mental stress such as drug/alcohol addiction, death of your entire family in a freak treechipper accident, favorite sports team being moved to a different city, favorite bird dog expiring, etc.

You are NOT allowed to see a shrink because Daddy didn't pay you enough attention. Daddy was busy DEALING WITH IT. When you screwed up, he DEALT with you.

A Retrosexual will have at least one outfit in his wardrobe designed to conceal himself from prey.

A Retrosexual knows how to tie a Windsor knot when wearing a tie -- and ONLY a Windsor knot.

A Retrosexual should have at least one good wound he can brag about getting.

A Retrosexual knows how to use a basic set of tools. If you can't hammer a nail, or drill a straight hole, practice in secret until you can -- or be rightfully ridiculed for the wuss you be.

A Retrosexual knows that owning a gun is not a sign that your are riddled with fear. Guns are TOOLS and are often essential to DEAL WITH IT.

Plus it's just plain fun to fire one off in the direction of those people or things that just need a little "wakin' up".

Crying. There are very few reasons that a Retrosexual may cry, and none of them have to do with TV commercials, movies, or soap operas.

Sports teams are sometimes a reason to cry, but the preferred method of release is swearing or throwing the remote control.

Some reasons a Retrosexual can cry include (but are not limited to) death of a loved one, death of a pet (fish do NOT count as pets in this case), loss of a major body part, or loss of major body part on your Ford truck.

When a Retrosexual is on a crowded bus and or a commuter train, and a pregnant woman, heck, any woman gets on, that retrosexual stands up and offers his seat to that woman, then looks around at the other so-called men still in their seats with a disgusted "you punks" look on his face.

A Retrosexual knows how to say the Pledge properly, and with the correct emphasis and pronunciation. He also knows the words to the Star Spangled Banner.

A Retrosexual will have hobbies and habits his wife and mother do not understand, but that are essential to his manliness, in that they offset the acceptable manliness decline he suffers when married/engaged or in a serious healthy relationship - i.e., hunting, boxing, shot putting, shooting, cigars, car maintenance.

A Retrosexual knows how to sharpen his own knives and kitchen utensils.

A Retrosexual man can drive in snow (hell, a blizzard) without sliding all over or driving under 20mph, without anxiety, and without high-centering his ride in a snow bank.

A Retrosexual man can chop down a tree and make it land where he wants. Wherever it lands is where he damn well wanted it to land.

Except on his truck--that would happen because of a "force of nature," and then the retrosexual man's options are to Cry, or to DEAL WITH IT, or do both.

A Retrosexual will give up his seat on a bus to not only any women but any elderly person or person in military dress (except 2nd Lt's).

NOTE: The person in military dress may turn down the offer but the Retrosexual man will ALWAYS make the offer to them and thank them for serving their country.

A Retrosexual man doesn't need a contract -- a handshake is good enough.
He will always stand by his word even if circumstances change or the other person deceived him.

A Retrosexual man doesn't immediately look to sue someone when he does something stupid and hurts himself.

We understand that sometimes in the process of doing things we get hurt and.... we just DEAL WITH IT!"

I hereby announce the start of a new offensive in the culture Wars, the Retrosexual movement.

Via Chasmatic in The Top 40: 27 Ways to be a Classic Man

[ Note:"I got this from the internet, perhaps from this very site. I didn't compose it but will gladly give credit where credit is due." -- Chasmatic]

gerardvanderleun : October 3, 15  |  Your Say (10)  | PermaLink: Permalink

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Presented for your approval: Our new national anthem.

“There must be some way out of here,” said the joker to the thief
“There’s too much confusion, I can’t get no relief
Businessmen, they drink my wine, plowmen dig my earth
None of them along the line know what any of it is worth”

“No reason to get excited,” the thief, he kindly spoke
“There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke
But you and I, we’ve been through that, and this is not our fate
So let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late”

All along the watchtower, princes kept the view
While all the women came and went, barefoot servants, too

Outside in the distance a wildcat did growl
Two riders were approaching, the wind began to howl

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Via Karen L. Myers and Ed Driscoll at Instapundit, a NYT column defining “The Modern Man” with replies in red ink. Never Yet Melted



Full list if you...

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5-Minute Arguments

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This photo of Sarah Bernhardt was taken by Nadar (Gaspard-Félix Tournachon) at his Boulevard des Capucines atelier in 1864.

The sensual black drapery over her bare shoulder was – by design – rather suggestive. It also – again by design – conveniently concealed her illegitimate pregnancy. Even at the young age of 20 Bernhardt was already becoming the master génie de la réclame and was perfecting her greatest role – the role of Sarah Bernhardt....
Her stardom owed as much to her eccentric, flamboyant and scandalous personal life as it did to her acting. She had public affairs with playwrights, actors and artists.2 She travelled with a menagerie of exotic animals, including a boa and an aligator named Ali-Gaga.3 She dressed in Byzantine and Oriental gowns and perhaps most bizarrely, slept in a coffin and performed with a human skull. To her detractors she was completely unapologetic and said simply “Quand même” (So what). “My fame,” she wrote, “had become annoying for my enemies, and a little trying, I confess, for my friends.”....
She reportedly had affairs with Napoleon III, Edward, Prince of Wales, Victor Hugo (who gave her a human skull after her 1877 performance in Hernani), Charles Haas, Jean Mounet-Sully, Gustave Dore, Jean Richepin and Louise Abbéma. She also had “lifelong habit of automatically sleeping with her leading men,” often in the dressing room after performances. She was even inexplicably, albeit briefly, married to Greek military officer/actor Aristides Damala (who died at age 34 from his morphine addiction).
Her personal zoo, which she travelled with, included at various times Ali-Gaga, the alligator that died after too much milk and champagne, a boa constrictor that she shot herself after it swallowed a pillow, Cross-ci Cross-ça, the Chinese chameleon, a cheetah, a leopard, a pair of lion cubs, a lynx, Bizibouzou the monkey and Darwin the dog.
In 1905 Sarah left for her farewell tour of the Americas and while performing La Tosca in Rio de Janeiro she injured her knee. She continued to tour and perform but the knee never properly healed and she was in constant pain. At the age of 71, despite the objections of those around her, she had the leg amputated.6 Eight months later she was performing La dame aux camélias in a wheelchair. - - Codex 99

gerardvanderleun : September 29, 15  |  Your Say (9)  | PermaLink: Permalink

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So I went out to take a two-mile walking tour of my old neighborhood in Seattle's Queen Anne. This was mostly because of the elemental concept that I should get at least some exercise on a daily basis. It's also because of my long held belief that even with a route that is well worn and well traveled and well known, you can, if you open your mind discover something new every day.

And it is true. Today for example I discovered that if I turn left at the nearest corner it is possible to have one shot of espresso at Ken's market. Which I did.

Walking down and then up a hill and turning right, it is then possible to have a shot of espresso at Cafe Lladro on Queen Anne Street. Which I did.

Moving down the street two and a half blocks at a rapid clip, you can then have a shot of espresso at Cafe Diablo. Which I did.

Out the door and down the street two more blocks gets you to Cafe Appassionata where you can have, yes, a shot of espresso. Which I did.

From there you can go down the hill, making towards home, and as you do you come face to face with Cafe Florian where you can have a shot of espresso. Which I did.

Completing the route I made sure to stop at Bustle where I could order a soothing cappucino. Which I did.

After that I made my way home and I'm here to tell you thatttttttttttttttttttttttt........

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American Studies


Via HappyAcres

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Can Philosophy Be Justified in a Time of Crisis?

First, in Part I(A), I make the case that there is a large crisis of suffering in the world today (Part I does not take me very long.). - - Nathan J Robinson

I spent $12K on suits out of some guy’s trunk

Over the summer, Burekhovich plunked down more than $12,000 on a couple of $500 summer blazers, eight regular blazers, two tuxes, a couple of suits, 10 shirts and a $1,200 winter coat, from a stranger parked on the side of the road. | New York Post

Shared sacrifice.

The [Open the Books] report [on the EPA] also reveals that seven of 10 EPA employees make more than $100,000 a year and more than 12,000 of its 16,000 employees were given bonuses last year despite budget cuts. - - Liberty's Torch

The greatest Christmas movie of all time?

Die Hard. -- Shaidle

What It Takes to Be a Hotshot

At fire season's peak, we head out with California's firefighting elite to find out what it takes to run in their ranks. | Huckberry

"It’s over, it’s done
The end is begun
If you listen to fools…
The Mob Rules"

Put people together in a group and they end up with compromises because in the middle band of smarter people there are foolish but clever people who insist on being “unique” and representing their own interests at the expense of the group. World War III? Let’s hope so.

I am just completely blown-away by the lack of shame in those who seek to further restrict the American citizen’s ownership and responsible use of firearms.

It’s as if every active-shooter event makes them more ignorant than they were after the one that came before, and more brazen than they were after the one that came before. House of Eratosthenes

“No one owns life,

but anyone who can pick up a frying pan owns death.” -- William Burroughs

"If you must buy things, pay cash, and only buy things of value -- no trinkets, no gimmicks.

Everything you own must be able to fit inside one suitcase; then your mind might be free." (1970) Charles Bukowski

“This book attempts to depict the strange transformation of the free human mind into an automatically responding machine

– a transformation which can be brought about by some of the cultural undercurrents in our present-day society as well as by deliberate experiments in the service of a political ideology.” “The Rape of the Mind: Thought Control, Menticide, and Brainwashing” (1956).

Modernism is no longer modern.

Eventually, intelligent people are bound to tire of a choice between a lowest-common-denominator international popular culture and a campus-based literary culture limited to realistic novels and chatty free verse poems. World Books | The Smart Set

Terror is actually fine, as long as it is the Red Terror, as described by Lenin.

The current police, which enforce capitalism through racist terror tactics, will be replaced with police who only terrorize capitalists, racists, sexists, homophobes, and other enemies of right thinking and virtue. The Police State

[Bumped] "'Oh,” you say, "But there's no way even the United States could kill the entire Muslim population of the planet."

I guarantee you that right now, right this very minute, that there exists somewhere in the Pentagon a detailed, step-by-step plan for the destruction of Islam by means of military force, from the Ka'aba right down to the shabbiest plywood shawarma stand in Karachi. -- The Pearl Harbor Switch

Report: 15,000 People Vanish From ‘Fall Fest’ Hayride Wagons Each Year

“Our data shows that, each autumn, between 1 and 2 percent of all Fall Fest attendees who climb up onto the back of straw-covered wagons and embark on tractor-pulled hayrides never return,” said the report’s lead author, Simon Shaw, noting that on the average hayride, at least two or three passengers will unexpectedly go missing and be lost forever. -- NewsSource

We know what we are no longer interested in paying for.

We are not interested in helping those who cannot help themselves, the great diversity experiment, or the radicals of feminist and other stripes who seem like self-parody. - - Everyone is a crypto-conservative now

Group Of Christie Campaign Deserters Found In Forest

SHAMONG, NJ—Huddling together around fires of burning yard signs while sipping small rations of soup from mugs adorned with the phrase “Telling It Like It Is,” a ragged encampment of advisers, pollsters, and volunteers who deserted Chris Christie’s presidential campaign was reportedly found living deep in a New Jersey forest Friday, authorities confirmed. - - News Source

An army of principles will penetrate where an army of soldiers cannot;

it will succeed where diplomatic management would fall: it is neither the Rhine, the Channel, nor the ocean that can arrest its progress: it will march on the horizon of the world, and it will conquer. - - Thomas Paine

From Radical Chic & Mau-Mauing the Flak Catchers by Tom Wolfe

Do the Panthers like little Roquefort cheese morsels rolled in crushed nuts this way, and asparagus tips in mayonnaise dabs, and meatballs petites au Coq Hardi, all of which are at this very moment being offered to them on gadrooned silver platters by maids in black uniforms with hand-ironed white aprons?” How Tom Wolfe Became … Tom Wolfe | Vanity Fair

Letterman looks like someone who wants to sell you yak-wool sweaters for extreme weather, or a chapbook of his own apocalyptic poems.

The achievement beard—a marker of triumphant lassitude, the victory lap after a long job well done—has been gaining currency in recent years among men who might like to move through the world noticeably unnoticed. All Hail the Achievement Beard! - The New Yorker

Donald Trump's polls, sometimes characterized as weakening, are in fact strong.

As Bloomberg’s John Heilemann said on “Morning Joe,” if Jeb Bush had Mr. Trump’s numbers everyone would declare the race over. - - WSJ

Three of the most revered women in the country right now, Caitlyn Jenner, Laverne Cox, and Janet Mock, are men.

Any show or movie that even alludes to transanything is showered with presents and all you have to do to win any competition is grow a beard and put on a dress. - - Dear Martians

The Phantom Fame: ‘Space Ghost Coast to Coast,’ Secretly TV’s Most Influential Show

Now retired from the business of fighting intergalactic evil, Space Ghost (real name: Tad Ghostal) and a support staff consisting of his imprisoned enemies Zorak (anthropomorphic mantis/bandleader) and Moltar (gravel-voiced lava man/director) flies face-first into show business, interviewing pop-culture luminaries through a monitor screen lowered into the chair where a guest would normally sit. -- Grantland

I think we’re being run by maniacs for maniacal means.

If anybody can put on paper what our government and the American government and the Russian… Chinese… what they are actually trying to do, and what they think they’re doing, I’d be very pleased to know what they think they’re doing. - John Lennon

Green Shit Happens

Everyone is confused at how Burger King's Black Whopper made their poop green

Playgrounds for sheikhs and oligarchs: the secret world of ​London’s luxury hotels

The hotels of which the capital’s new cadre of foreign rich are so fond are now the places a middle-class Londoner is most likely to bump into an oil-state sheikh or a Russian steel tycoon – sitting across the lobby on a wedding anniversary tea or brushing shoulders at the restaurant. - -The Guardian

Ikea in Älmhult: behind the scenes at the retailer's top-secret furniture lab

The original Ikea building is still there, buried in six decades of accreted industrial structures and offices, and is in the process of being turned into a museum. - - (Wired UK)

What signifies it to me, whether he who does it is a king or a common man;

Not all the treasures of the world, so far as I believe, could have induced me to support an offensive war, for I think it murder; but if a thief breaks into my house, burns and destroys my property, and kills or threatens to kill me, or those that are in it, and to "bind me in all cases whatsoever" to his absolute will, am I to suffer it? - - Thomas Paine

“In a revolutionary epoch, sometimes men taste every novelty,

sicken of them all, and return to ancient principles so long disused that they seem refreshingly hearty when they are rediscovered.” — Russell Kirk

From Abuse of Language, Abuse of Power, by Josef Pieper

"The general public is being reduced to a state where people are not only unable to find out about the truth but also become unable even to search for the truth because they are satisfied with deception and trickery that have determined their convictions, satisfied with a fictitious reality created by design through the abuse of language.--" The News Is Propaganda | Politically Short

We have replaced all ancient gods with a single one: equality.

To act in such a way as to offend equality causes people to retreat from you as if in fear of diseases or demonic possession; conversely, any activity can be justified in the name of upholding or expanding equality, regardless of its outcome. Egalitarianism is the god of our time

‘Close Your Eyes and Pretend to Be Dead’ What really happened two years ago in the bloody attack on Nairobi’s Westgate Mall.

Over the birdsong, car alarms, and ringing of the unanswered mobile phones of the dead and wounded, Simon could now hear gunshots, explosions, and screaming. | Foreign Policy

Victor Davis Hanson asks the wrong question: Calling Obama a nihilist lets him off the hook.

He has perfected his presentation of a certain persona, and he doesn’t care if non-supporters see through him; what’s important is that he reach enough other people to accomplish his goals. - - neo-neocon

Christians Need Not Apply

In their 1990 book After the Ball: How America Will Conquer Its Fear and Hatred of Gays in the 90’s, homosexual activists Hunter Madsen and Marshall Kirk called for the valuing of homosexuality, prescribing a desensitization of Americans to homosexuality via a “continuous flood of gay-related advertising,” a “conversion of the average American’s emotions, mind, and will, through a planned psychological attack, in the form of propaganda fed to the nation via the media.” -- The New American

In what can only be deemed a miracle, the peoples of earth have managed to pass through a fourth blood moon this year without the apocalyptic events.

Gog and Magog must have spent the entire duration of the blood moon saga playing Angry Birds on their iPhones and drinking their Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Lattes, thereby missing their cue to invade plucky Israel and initiate the Battle of Armageddon. Alternative Right

Libertarians have built an entire philosophy around avoiding contact with the enemy.

In the culture wars that have roiled the nation over the last fifty years, libertarians have been hiding under their beds. | The Z Blog

The Depravity Deepens / Child-Size Sex Toys:

TranZwear: For Parents Of FTM Children/teens We are able to adjust to your size or other requests as we make all the items all right here under one roof in our shop.

Most people also assume that recycling plastic bottles must be doing lots for the planet.

Here’s some perspective: To offset the greenhouse impact of one passenger’s round-trip flight between New York and London, you’d have to recycle roughly 40,000 plastic bottles, assuming you fly coach. The Reign of Recycling

Michigan soybean farmer digs up mammoth bones

They dug from 9:00 AM until sunset and were able to recover 20% of the mammoth’s bones: a dramatic skull with two large tusks still attached, the jaw, more teeth, the pelvis, parts of both shoulder blades, one kneecap and multiple ribs and vertebrae. The History Blog

All of the totalitarian monsters of the last century despised Christians, Jews, and America.

The Nazi war on Christianity and the Soviet war on Jews tend to be ignored by modern historians, but writers at the time had no doubt at all that the liquidation of all those who were part of the Great Faith, the various denominations of Christians and of Jews, was an absolute and inevitable purpose for these totalitarians. Hatred of the Great Faith

Winnie-the-Pooh (Bear), nee Edward, age 90, passed away in his home on October 4.

Lifelong connoisseur of hunny, Winnie-the-Pooh was known to friends and family alike as a creature of habit, and his death came as no surprise to his husband, Piglet, who commented tearfully that “his diabetes just got out of control. I told him and told him to eat more healthfully, but he wouldn’t.” McSweeney’s.

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