Relax, things could be worse. Right? Right?

If Republicans win, "our children will be arrested and conceivably killed."

🚨MSNBC Presidential Historian Michael Beschloss with a deranged take days before the midterms.pic.twitter.com/oq8a13qHmZ

— OutKick (@Outkick) November 3, 2022

Look at this image. Look at his home, look what he’s wearing. Our children will be arrested and killed by the emerging regime! It could begin next week! And my private chef is twenty minutes late with lunch! How is Michael Beschloss supposed to remodel his seventh bedroom if the far-right murders his interior designer!?!?

What is this person, this idiot courtier who has built a life around his ability to flatter his idiot patrons, but silly. He’s an elite fop, an empty little man who dances for coins from princes. And holy shit do we have an army of these people. The Lost – by Chris Bray – Tell Me How This Ends

 I created a photorealistic image of George Washington if he lived in the present day.

Expected Midterm Loss Based on historical statistical relationships, we find that the distressing state of the economy and Biden’s low approval rating should deliver a landslide victory for the Republicans. We calculate an expected midterm loss for the Democrats of 75 seats in the House of Representatives and 11 seats in the Senate. That would give the Republicans solid majorities in both the House and the Senate.  In contrast, current polls point to a more modest Republican victory, where the Democrats could still keep their majority in the Senate.

The Verified Masque Of The Red Death –     There’s an old trope, which I’ve witnessed personally, of a boss or manager, somebody in a senior position who, when faced with staff shortages or simply a glut of work, takes off the suit and tie and dons an overall and gets back down into the trenches with his boys. Pit managers who pick up the drill once more, owners of construction companies who climb up the scaffold once again, leading from the front. The equivalent of this today for Twitter’s shitlib journo class is to defiantly signal that they’ll be quite happy to become unverified once more, something akin to:

‘‘Fuck it, I came from the streets and I can still survive on the streets if I have to just watch!’’.

In truth, this is the Soyjack face crying behind the smiling mask —they’re horrified by it all.

The reason they’re horrified is because the choices being offered to them are to grovel and humiliate themselves and pay the detested Musk’s $7.99 or return to the lot of the smallfolk in terms of their relationship with power and prestige.

Joe Rogan no brakes…pic.twitter.com/ttC0CeyKU7

— Citizen Free Press (@CitizenFreePres) October 26, 2022

“Men are not prisoners of fate, but only prisoners of their own minds.” — Franklin D. Roosevelt

https://twitter.com/Retr0Aesthetic/status/1588180657670348802

Kummakivi is a 500,000 kg rock in Finland that has been balancing on top of another rock for 11,000 years 

Continued massively for members of the New American Digest over at the klubhouse.

28 Furthermore, just as they did not think it worthwhile to retain the knowledge of God, so God gave them over to a depraved mind so that they do what ought not to be done. 29 They have become filled with every kind of wickedness, evil, greed, and depravity. They are full of envy, murder, strife, deceit, and malice. They are gossips, 30 slanderers, God-haters, insolent, arrogant and boastful; they invent ways of doing evil; they disobey their parents; 31 they have no understanding, no fidelity, no love, no mercy. 32 Although they know God’s righteous decree that those who do such things deserve death, they not only continue to do these very things but also approve of those who practice them. — Romans 1

Give it a shot. It will engulf and teleport you off planet to the Gone World. Don’t know about you but this video “homage” brought me back to Elvis. “Caught in a trap. Can’t walk out…” [continue reading…]

I’m with Neo and Jacobson when I say: I won’t believe it until I see it. And until the last precinct in Philadelphia has reported and all the mail-in ballots have been counted. Things Look Too Good 

Microcosm of the good will and good men squandered by their lessers. Never again. https://t.co/SsVWKxywo3

— Cernovich (@Cernovich) November 7, 2022

So where did the hot mess of today’s progtard efforts to reduce all of humanity to their dung beetle world begin? It began with The French Revolution, the revolution that took the American Revolution and, in short, screwed the pooch when it came to replicating that in France. Oh well, they were — after all — “The Dog-Fucking French”™

The vileness of the French method of replacing monarchy was widely known and commented on at the time and long after. The most notorious among these memoirs was Carlyle’s The French Revolution: A History, 1837. It was a work of three volumes and over 300,000 words. It has endured.

I’ve read an abridged version of Carlyle’s masterpiece and that was heavy going enough. Fortunately, here in the YourTube era, we have our own contemporary history from Flappr to lighten your load. 

Yes, it takes an hour and a half. So what? It’s worth it and you burned through many more hours than that binge-watching Breaking Bad for the third time, right? Right.

Besides, Flappr’s summation of The French Revolution is carefully tuned to the times in which we find ourselves now; times in which we are one false-flag incident away from the moment when “The Guns Come Out.” And the tune that this visual history plays is both brilliant and laugh-out-loud funny. It is accurate in its history and yet scathing in its satire. 

In the hands of Flappr this is a righteous revision of all the revisionary garbage that’s been spewed out about revolution in the last century. 

Recommended. Without reservation.

https://twitter.com/RealJamesWoods/status/1589481595719016448

Around the cleared moonscape that enclosed Firebase Delta, the jungle dozed silently while the sentries relaxed. Their flak jackets reeked of sweat and chaffed at their skin, but they believed in them. They had less faith in the hedged of concertina wire that coiled like huge snakes around the camp, and they had reason. If they loved anything, they loved the full moon that was falling down the sky. They’d be sorry to see it duck behind the vine-choked trees in the distance. Then they wouldn’t be so relaxed. It was when the dark rose up out of the jungle that men died.

[NOTE: Published in full for all over on The New American Digest  —  The Second Lieutenant — to signal more stories ( real and should have been real) to come. Republished here at this time to preserve the comments from readers below.]

[continue reading…]

Protestors And Their Spirit Animals Supercut… pic.twitter.com/VXi58GglGb

— @stevenvoiceover (@stevenvoiceover) July 28, 2022

Mark Knopfler said, he was inspired by the book “Growth of the Soil”: I was driving down this Telegraph Road [in Detroit] that you’re talking about, I think it’s the same road, and it just went on and on and on forever, it’s like what they call linear development. And I just started to think, I wondered how that road must have been when it started, what it must have first been. And then really that’s how it all came about yeah, I just put that book [Growth of the Soil] together and the place where I was, I was actually sitting in the front of the tour bus, at the time.

Well a long time ago, came a man on a track
Walking thirty miles with a sack on his back

[continue reading…]

At some point after 9/11 in the early New York winter of 2001, it became clear to me that I needed to conduct a searching inventory of my soul and rebuild, almost from the ground up, my sense of who I was and how I thought about the world I was in and the life I was leading. At the time, I knew only that I had been mistaken about a great many things in the world and American culture for a very long time. I was long overdue for an extreme makeover of the self.

To do that I used the only set of skills I was ever any good at, reading and writing.  With these flimsy tools, I began — in fits and starts at first  — changing into someone different from the person I had been. This is nothing either unusual or dramatic. The reinvention of the self is the SOAP (Standard Operating American Procedure) that scrubs out souls. It seemed to me at the time, and it still seems to me today, that I had no choice but to begin and continue with my slapdash self-renovation until such time that it seems to me to be finished.

All of this is a worn-out way of saying that it has become my discipline to try and write my way to a new kind of freedom I still only vaguely see. This is neither unusual nor dramatic. Many other Americans do it. Many more use other tools to accomplish a similar goal; career change, relocation, materialism, spiritualism, conversion, drugs, alcohol, rehabilitation, and Jesus. As Americans, our options for reinvention are numerous with more being minted daily.

We are a restless people in America, a yondering race that seldom finds the here and now good for more than a few years in any one place — in our hearts or on the land. We meet, make close warm friends, and then we part, promising to see each other ‘down the road a piece. Often we do, but much more often we do not.

And as we move across the land and through our lives, so we move within our hearts and souls, in our persuasions, and in our politics. In so doing, we often come to the belief that people we once thought of as significant,  irreplaceable, are, indeed, disposable in the pursuit of our own personal goals.

Disposable people are just another product of our disposable culture. And the stark truth of this matter is that disposable people are the case much more often than it is not.

We like to say that there is one special person on the earth for each of us, but the truth is that there are probably 10,000 special people on earth for each one of us. It’s not romantic to say so, but with more than five billion people on the planet, the odds loom large against such romanticism. Instead, we come to the realization that there are lots of people hanging about that will do and, in the words of Ulysses’ Molly Bloom, “Well, as well you as another.”

But what is desirable disposability to the individual American can become disastrous to American society. [continue reading…]

These (and many, many others) can now be found in the members’ portion of The New American Digest. Happy Scrolling.

These (and many, many others) can now be found in the members’ portion of The New American Digest. Subjects of mockery include. . . .

• Schwab • Straws • Cats • Killings • Finger Waves • Gender Fluids • Designer Bodies • Klimit’tard • Smart City Death Camps • Non-Electric Power Trucks • Passed-Out Pelosi • Myth of the Double Tap • Hippie Hobbies • Wax Hitler Persists • Food Out? Nema Problema • Beto O’Rouke Nude • Musk Bucks •

Happy Scrolling.

For my brother, Thomas John Van der Leun (October 30, 1947-November 3, 2020)

Butte Canyon, Paradise, California. Sometime in the 1950s

When my brother was five and I was seven my parents moved us to Paradise. We’d been living in the Los Angeles section known as Glendale. We lived at 521B Allen Avenue. (You never forget your address when you go off to school for the first time, do you?). It was a two-bedroom bungalow apartment. There was a driveway between the two parallel strips of postwar apartment units that opened in the back to a wide asphalt courtyard with a cement block fence at the rear and an incinerator up against that wall.

My brother Tom was always more adventuresome so he learned how to run along the top of that wall and enjoyed taunting me from the top. He enjoyed it right up until his foot slipped and he ended up with a green fracture of his arm. After the pain was gone and the cast was set he enjoyed getting everyone he knew or met to sign his cast. Tom strove to enjoy everything he did.

Once the cast was off he figured out how to further bedevil my mother by inventing the “Bunkbed Launchpad. ” This involved safety pinning a white towel to the shoulders of your pajamas so it hung down in the back like a terrycloth version of Superman’s cape. Then, using the flying powers of a white terrycloth towel, we would leap from the top bunk onto the mattress and piled pillows of the “guest bed.” And although we took off many times, I can say for certain that a towel is not a dependable aeronautic device. Indeed, its glide path resembled that of a brick.

It was only seven years after the Second World War and peacetime life in Los Angeles was fraught with housing shortages, a population explosion as returning soldiers tried to jumpstart families, and…

and…

the smog.

Today we hear a constant plaint about air quality in  Los Angeles but that is just more endless whining about marginal problems that have overtaken those slunks among us who pass themselves off as “nice, thoughtful people.” Their chatterings but the stifled screams of those in spot-welded by selfishness to a metalled purgatory of their own design.

Smog? They have no idea what smog is.

In the days I went to my first two grades at Benjamin Franklin School, the smog was so bad that you could — many mornings — taste it in the dew. My father went through, at times, two white shirts a day since the smog’s grime around his collar and cuffs would be visible after only a few hours. The clotheslines in the courtyard behind the apartments were so filled with billowing white shirts we could have commandeered them for our pirate vessels if we weren’t terrified of the wrath of the awakened housewives of 521B Allen Avenue.

My paternal grandparents knew the problems of post-war Los Angeles and persuaded my parents to join them in their new town up in Northern California, Paradise.

And so I found myself drowsing in the backseat of the family sedan with my brother as, after a trip of two days, we drove up the Skyway to my grandparents’ handmade house. I saw them, as I woke from sleep slumped against my brother, waving to me outside the car window with tall pines behind them and flakes of snow “falling softly and softly falling.”

We got out into the snowstorm and went into my grandparent’s handmade house by their handmade lake with its handmade rowboat. All around their house was an apple orchard and inside the house was a meal by my grandmother featuring her handmade applesauce.

After that my grandfather made a bed for us in front of the wood fire smelling of dense high Sierra pine. The adults went back into the kitchen to talk and play canasta. The hum of their voices faded as my brother and I fell asleep.

It was our first night in Paradise. [continue reading…]

November 2, 2022 16:22
Statement of the Russian Federation on preventing nuclear war
2254-02-11-2022

As a permanent member of the United Nations Security Council and one of the nuclear-weapon powers, in accordance with the Treaty on the Nonproliferation of Weapons, the Russian Federation bears a special responsibility in matters related to strengthening international security and strategic stability.

In implementing its policy on nuclear deterrence Russia is strictly and consistently guided by the tenet that a nuclear war cannot be won and must never be fought. Russian doctrinal approaches in this sphere are defined with utmost accuracy, pursue solely defensive goals and do not admit of expansive interpretation. These approaches allow for Russia to hypothetically resort to nuclear weapons exclusively in response to an involving the aggression use of weapons of mass destruction or an aggression with the use of conventional weapons when the very existence of the state is in jeopardy.

Russia proceeds from the continued relevance of the existing arrangements and understandings in the field of cutting and limiting nuclear weapons, as well as reducing strategic risks and threat of international incidents and conflicts fraught with escalation to nuclear level. We fully reaffirm our commitment to the Joint statement of the leaders of the five nuclear-weapon states on preventing nuclear war and avoiding arms races of January 3, 2022. We are strongly convinced that in the current complicated and turbulent situation, caused by irresponsible and impudent actions aimed at undermining our national security, the most immediate task is to avoid any military clash of nuclear powers.

We urge other states of the “nuclear five” to demonstrate in practice their willingness to work on solving this top-priority task and to give up the dangerous attempts to infringe on vital interests of each other while balancing on the brink of a direct armed conflict and encouraging provocations with weapons of mass destruction, which can lead to catastrophic consequences.

Russia continues to advocate for a revamped, more robust architecture of international security based on ensuring predictability and global strategic stability, as well as on the principles of equal rights, indivisible security and mutual account of core interests of the parties. —Statement of the Russian Federation on preventing nuclear war – Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Russian Federation

Rumble video service ‘turns off’ France over demand to censor Russian media In a statement on Tuesday, the video hosting service similar to YouTube, with business headquartered in Longboat Key, Florida, and Toronto, said its users in France would no longer be able to access the site in response to censorship demand by Paris: