The Unceasing Cessna Hacienda • A stall at this height, with no airspace to recover before impact, would kill the pilot just as surely as a fall would kill the refueler. Nevertheless, the man tasked with refueling lowered the winch until workmen in the truck could reach out and attach the fuel line to its hook. He then raised it back up, inserted the line into the fuel port, and gave the signal to begin pumping. For three long minutes⁠⁠—and a distance of more than three miles⁠⁠—truck and plane were attached by a fragile, flammable umbilical cord, until the belly tank was satiated. They then lowered the fuel line, and the Hacienda pulled up and away for another twelve hours of flight. If they were going to beat the record, they would need to refuel like this at least 92 more times.

Kathy Boudin’s Delusions Did Not Die With Her – As part of Weather Underground, her cadre nicknamed itself “The Fork” in homage to the utensil the Manson Family plunged into the stomach of Leno LaBianca. On March 6, 1970, she emerged from a shower covered in soot and dust in the ruins of a Greenwich Village townhouse that she turned into a bomb-making facility with several of her Weather Underground associates. They intended to unleash a nail bomb at a soldier’s dance at Fort Dix, New Jersey. Instead of maiming and killing less fortunate men and their dates, the explosion killed a classmate of Boudin’s from Bryn Mawr whose upbringing included a deer park, goose pond, servants, and a 100-foot-high windmill; a fellow red-diaper baby from Columbia University; and a friend made through the Students for a Democratic Society’s Economic Research and Action Project in Cleveland. Their incessant slogan “bring the war home” took on a very literal meaning in Greenwich Village.

And for tonight’s inflight entertainment we feature an action packed film. pic.twitter.com/m6Miv3Q4PX

— Steve Inman (@SteveInmanUIC) May 16, 2022

[The above item is dedicated to the Universe’s most rabid Teetererphobe, the Sailor. May all his airline seats be behind.]

The strongest bones on the planet hold important clues Back in the 1990s, a seemingly ordinary man was involved in a car crash so serious that it should have shattered many of his bones. Yet the radiologist who interpreted his X-ray studies could not find a single fracture. And this wasn’t all. The radiologist also noticed that the patient’s bones were unusually dense – as it turned out, eight times normal density. Two people with high bone mass trait even reported that they had trouble staying afloat while swimming. One of the affected individuals, a physician, had undergone multiple attempted hip replacement surgeries, each of which failed because the man’s bones were so dense that they could not screw the artificial joint into the adjacent bone.

Elbows Out: Houston birthed the slabs, a car culture of its own – To the original slabbers, most of whom are now between 40 and 60 years old, the definition of the hobby hasn’t changed one bit. It’s still a Cadillac on 84-ish wire wheels with a Continental kit, Vogue white-wall tires, and the candy-colored paint job of your click. (In Houston, the reader will note, the word “clique” is spelled the way it sounds, as exemplified with local hip-hop pioneers Screwed Up Click, or S.U.C. for short.) [continue reading…]

New York, New York!
What a wonderful town.
The Bronx is up and the Battery down.
The people ride in a hole in the ground. . .

Illustration by Deitz

Look. The USA never did want a large standing army, and that goes back to that hair-muss the colonies got into with the greatest army on planet Erf: the Brits. You might notice that the next really, really big war was fought by irregulars or militia (national guard, essentially) – the Civil War. Enter the 20th century and the standing army got turgid with WWI, went back to small (too small by rebound), and then got BIG in WWII, and stayed relatively large during the follow-on event known as the Cold War. But, the big standing army is not our nation’s ethos (as founded).

However, for some reason, the army (and the other lil services) have enjoyed unprecedented social support among the people. This is because it has been drawn, primarily, from the people and the soldiers are young and sincere, for the most part. They do things no man should be asked to do, in war or in peace. They come out of the service and into the community as the obvious best and brightest, and you know that’s true. I’d rather talk with, work beside, or do just about anything with an army veteran than with a futhr-muckin Harvard graduate with a law degree. Or, God forbid, a politician.

So, that honeymoon is ending before our eyes. We survived, somewhat, the Pentagon Papers era. Nixon. Korea. ‘Nam. Iraq I and II. We have come this far with our beloved armed forces, even though the in-laws didn’t like them, and now that shit is ending. Milley walked across that street (Pennsylvania Ave?) to the church with Trump, and then somebody got to him and stuck a pair of pliers up his ass to get to his undescended huevos, and Bob’s yer gay uncle, the armed forces began a fast slide into hell.

The only thing weaker, now, is the paper tiger army the Russians are employing in that worse-than-Vietnam debacle in the Ukraine. God the ass-kicking they are receiving is epic. It’s as if God himself sees our plight in the formerly free world, and has smitten our adversaries. It’s a Biblical beat-down and is an exact parallel to the Finland Winter War of ’39-40, except much bigger and high-tech. My only complaint is that it lacks the elegance of the ski troops in Finland part.

I pray daily that the National Guard in the US has some come-to-Jesus experiences, and does its cool thing where they tell the feds to stick it up their collective asses when they get stupid orders. I expect, and this is my prediction, that the Biden clown party will try to shaft the NG because they know they aren’t bolted to the ground quite the same way the army is.

Oh, I also wanted to say that trans/critical/and vaxed shit is still not enough to wreck the men of the US Army. It’ll take more. But, the top-down is rotting and that is ultimately a death blow given certain circumstances. IOW, the army could divide and lose in even the smallest battles. Afghanistan Kabul airport was just a test run for the Fuckery they plan for your once-powerful and beloved military. So, expect more shafting of the active-duty military.

What else? Expect the US veteran to go overnight from being a smelly, tripwire but respected and somewhat socially protected class to being (I don’t even want to say what they’re going to make us into socially).

Anyway, just watch out. The military and the veterans are one of the greatest bulwarks against the reset class – which paints a huge target on their backs. It’s okay, though. After we attrit and shit down the necks of this generation of tyrants, we’ll pour some beers, and make our Valhallan beds and then fade away.

Because this, gentle people, is as far as I go. I am not a tripwire vet; I am a command detonation vet.

Out here.

“In our sleep, pain which cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart until, in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God.” — Aeschylus

IT’S PROBABLY NOTHING:

All of the Black Sea’s Fleets Kilo-Class Attack Submarines and possibly other Russian Navy Submarines have reportedly been put to Sea from the Port of Sevastopol today, all Kilo-Class Submarines are more than likely Fully-Armed with around 4 3M-54 Kalibr Cruise Missiles each. pic.twitter.com/EAF7Gh4ABg

— OSINTdefender (@sentdefender) May 13, 2022

[continue reading…]

Be Thou my vision, O Lord of my heart
Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art
Thou my best thought, by day or by night
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light

Be Thou my wisdom, and Thou my true word
I ever with Thee, and Thou with me, Lord
Thou my great Father, and I Thy true son
Thou in me dwelling, and I with Thee one [continue reading…]

So many,
I had not thought death had undone so many.
— Eliot

Give me back the Berlin wall
Give me Stalin and St. Paul
Give me Christ or give me Hiroshima
Destroy another fetus now
We don’t like children anyhow
I’ve seen the future, baby
It is murder
– – — Leonard Cohen

In Chico, the Saturday Downtown Farmers Market does attract its share of possessed ProgTards peddling their festering palaver around the edges of the market. A few persistent and more politically savvy causes have managed to get tables inside the market, but they are for tiny houses and showers for our ever-expanding drug-addict population. Most of the more demented causes stay at the edges of the space stifled like those selling contrails as killing machines. Others like the octogenarian-based anti-war group hang out on the Esplanade a block over and get excited when somebody honks.

Not so the Bitch-Driven Kill Children Demon parade this Saturday.

There I was contemplating whether or not to get two or four handmade and most excellent tamales while kids and families strolled by. Off to the left, an itinerant magician amazed a three-year-old with subtle variations of “I’ve Got Your Nose.” Behind me, the nice lady who brings pots of cat grass to the market sold plants from her table and its 3×5 “BLM” sign. It was a calm and good time strolling with my fellow citizens among the flowers, produce, and baked goods.

Suddenly there was a disturbance in the force and looking to the south end of the market I saw those stereotyped sad semi-female demons of barren, angered, shriveled and pussy-whipped wombs forming up for their boring and utterly predictable rant march.

I’ve seen this Parade of the Perpetually Pissed Off Pussies (male, female, LGBTQRSTUVWXYZ, whathave you ). . .

Seen it I say hundreds of times from my junior year in high school on. . .

Make that (seems like) thousands of times.

It was, as were all the others,  straight out of the Bolshevik playbook. This Bitch-Driven parade is always led by the paid Antifa-bolsheviks with their bitch-blasting bullhorns followed by a phalanx of the eternally aggravated.

Since Chico is Deep California the chances any bitch in this parade will not be able to use abortion as birth control is somewhere south of absolute zero. The chance that any of them will ever be impregnated by anything more human than a turkey baster is also south of absolute zero. How shameful. How degraded. Cultural madness or Satanic possession. You decide. Either way, they march towards the Pit. Drive them fast to their tomb. [continue reading…]

My mother’s dream kitchen in the early 1950s. We ate in one like it by the late 1950s. Had the table and chairs for the whole family (“Compact but not cramped.”). Had the mixer. Had the Frigidaire. Had the Lazy Susans. Had the sifter with the wood handle painted in red enamel. Had the sink and the faucets. Had the broom closet. Had the toaster. Still do. Moving on up!

“So common have the elements of PEWSLAG become they can no longer be

considered as ‘The 7 Deadly Sins,” but rather as the PPAF, The Progressive Platform for America’s Future.”

“We are all lying in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.” — Oscar Wilde

The progressive left (aka “Democrats”) has cast off all pretense of “progress” and become a  slop bucket brimming over with Americans that hate children, success, happiness, liberty, and life itself. All these local “progressive heroes” will sooner or later get their close-up in the Fake News. Their faces and their ever-expanding mental diseases reveal the state of souls committed to personal degradation and social devolution. These insects have eaten the seven deadly sins with the zeal of pedophiles double dipping at the salad bar in a pre-school lunchroom. Theirs is the socialist Utopian view of life fueled with poppers and perversion and propaganda.

Others, the much-maligned normal majority, have the tragic view of life and accept that all humans are flawed; that all of us, to a greater or lesser extent, have touched on all of the 7 deadly sins. It is our nature to sin. We sin as easily as we breathe. Exhibit 5,798: the War in Ukraine. Those with the tragic view of the human condition at least struggle against sin and strive to leave the world brighter and better than when we came into it. The Democrats have now determined to leave their world depraved, degraded, and darker.

The compulsive seeking out of greater and greater sin can be seen in almost every progressive position and policy of the last several decades. From the sanctification of abortion and treason to the exaltation of perversion and penury, every step taken by the progressive strain of American politics has been to sink deeper into the pit and cavort in the reeking mire. 

For most Americans, the 7 deadly sins are things we struggle against. For progressives, the 7 sins have become the touchstones of their plans and policies; their 7 Commandments. So extreme has their dedication to degradation become that they now parade in the ass chaps of their achievements; from the slaughter of the unborn to normalizing the perverted to the feckless squandering of the local, state, and federal purse. The Democrats’ unwritten platform is to pull the rest of us down into the cesspit where they wallow. Most Americans, when the choice is stark and immediate, decline to join them in the mire.  It isn’t an accident that a popular cultural meme centers on Zombies, the walking dead who seek to feast off “Brainz!” and then convert the living to their living death. They do and they have.

At one point classical American liberals might have avoided this cultural and ideological degradation, but that was before ProgrressiveDemocrats shunned shame. Then it was full speed ahead. After all, once you’ve expunged shame from your mind, parading Pride is what is left, even if it is unclear what you are proud of. [continue reading…]

Not twice this day.
Inch time foot gem.
This day will not come again.
Each minute is worth a priceless gem.
— Takuan

Stepping outside after the soft shawled fall of first dark.  Lost leaves shrugged off the beech and the Japanese maple scatter rose and gold patches that glimmer on the damp pebbled walk brushed with soft light from the porch. I turn west along the crackled sidewalk towards the corner and glide into the slim shadows of the cedars. As I glance up Beyond their edges night rises and blooms around me. There, behind the nimbus of mist haloed around the streetlight, the new moon rises tilted like some supplicating palm against the darkening last faint line of the day far away.

Above the arc of the new moon, I see, faintly, the orb of the Earth’s shadow dark against dark. I’m out on a short small errand for a quart of milk at the corner store. Only a few seconds, only sixty-five steps in the night when going either to or from. Here I am subsumed in the dark and lashed to the planet. You are here too. Here we all are rolling through one more day here on the Earth turning before the sun, here for one more cycle of the moon turning around the Earth, in and out of the shadow obscuring and then revealing and the again obscuring its face, here for one of twelve lunar cycles that add up to one more cycle of the Earth around its home star sliding turning and turning an endless gyre towards Lyra.

You say you don’t believe in Grace, in Miracles? Walk with me on my path so that we are three. Take those sixty-five steps to the corner store in the glow of the Night Light. Take it slow.

Open your eyes. Open all your eyes. Look outside — look beyond — yourself.

Behold.

“Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your flight,
Make me a child again just for tonight!”

And remember kids: The Blast Does Not Travel at the Speed of Light, but the Light from the Blast Does

Zillow has dropped the price to $380,200. https://t.co/bBy7HIHlub

— Ryan D.wight’s biggest flan of Ukraine🌻🇺🇦 (@FakeRyanCDS_209) May 11, 2022

Modern liberalism is an acid that burns through everything it touches. The Church has shriveled in proportion to its exposure to it. Now those who have long sought its death present themselves, carrying more of this acid, as its healer, and even, as Thomas Cahill wrote in the New York Times, finger Pope John Paul II, who resisted it, as the Church’s enemy…. He then proposes a “solution,” which amounts to trading the teachings of Jesus Christ for modern liberalism.
— St. Peter’s in Chains By George Neumayr in The American Spectator

NEWMAYR’S OBSERVATION that “Modern liberalism is an acid that burns through everything it touches” is of the moment. Today’s progressivism/liberalism (ProgLibIsm)  is as dark as the various icons it worships with an almost perverted frenzy.

Give me back the Berlin wall
Give me Stalin and St. Paul
Give me Christ
Or give me Hiroshima
Destroy another fetus now
We don’t like children anyhow
I’ve seen the future, baby: It is murder
– – Leonard Cohen

As a one-time card-carrying member of the Culture of Death, I’ve felt the acid burn out the soul and replace it with the dead-end secular totems of possessions, fashion, sexuality, and ego-uber-alles. There is no faux-Randian “virtue of selfishness”  when the ProgLibs wield it.  I’ve used selfishness to “enhance” my own life and I’ve had “selfishness” used on me in turn to enhance the lives of others.

Money and things drive the ProgLib elites and their unAmerican culture. Vows have zero meaning to them. Truth, less than zero.

In ProgLibIsm spouses are traded for houses much as a fresh bottle of wine is picked up at the grocery store while the drained ones are hidden in the trash.

Commitment and duty have no place in ProgLibIsm — everything is reduced to “lifestyle” choices in which, since people are only things — only soulless lumps and clumps of cells that have grown credit ratings — they can easily be replaced by other things or other people to be used as things, as draft animals for hauling bloated elite egos around the landscape, as checkbooks that pay for frantic feminine fantasies and self-fulfillment until at last they are overdrawn. The is no god in this Brave New 1984 World unless it is the god of Get Yours. [continue reading…]

It seems pretty clear that the next step up from $57  is coming in with pre-approved financing from the Fed and a Net Worth statement.

Ok this is funny. pic.twitter.com/lEoItM4dYa

— 3Tro³ (@TriTro29) May 10, 2022

I’m sorry, but this is getting ridiculous.
This too.

pronouns in name and bio remain undefeated as a predictor of being a censorious, oppressive authoritarian.

i have never seen a community so thoroughly and gleefully badge themselves as irrational and toxic.

put pronouns in your self description and you pretty much suck. — proper pronouning – by el gato malo – bad cattitude

And while we’re at it can we please frag the Left’s use of weaponized guilt?

Also can we please declare open season on “Davos Man”? No bag limit.

“Davos Man” is a term coined by former Harvard University Director of the Center for International Affairs Professor Dr. Samuel Huntington (1927-2008) to define what was then an emerging group of economic elites who are members of a social caste which has “little need for national loyalty, view national boundaries as obstacles that are thankfully vanishing, and see national governments as residues from the past whose only useful function is to facilitate the elite’s global operations.” Davos Man fits the definition of megalomania and has acquired what he believes are sufficient financial and political resources to try to force his obsession and grand schemes on the world, and to force you, your family, and the world to comply with his vision and belief systems.

And can we please stop destroying the Army with trannies and mandates? We may need the Army. In combat. Soon.

Remember also:  Galatians 4:31 So then, brethren, we are not children of the bondwoman, but of the free. 5:1 Stand fast therefore in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free, and be not entangled again with the yoke of bondage.