WHEN in the course of human Events, it becomes necessary….
Fascism always starts with controlling the little things.
byVanderleunonAugust 29, 2020
An American Digest reader points me to this clip and remarks: “Are you familiar with the scene linked below, from Andy Garcia’s movie, “The Lost City”?
I find it strikingly familiar to many of the recent events. It was quite prescient at the time, as it features a strident, young female revolutionary, who apparently is a “white Hispanic”. For some reason, images of Gretchen Whitmer keep popping into my mind when I watch that scene!”
When you’re right, you’re right. When you’re wrong, blame it on the revolution….
Sixties hippies knew this.
Almost cut my hair
‘Twas just the other day
It was gettin’ kinda long
I could-a said, it was in my way
But I didn’t and I wonder why
I want to let my freak flag fly
And I feel like I owe it to someone
Must be because I had the flu for Christmas
And I’m not feelin’ up to par
It increases my paranoia
Like lookin’ at my mirror and seein’ a lit up police car
But I’m not givin’ in an inch to fear
I promised myself this year
I feel like I owe it to someone
When I finally get myself together
Get down in some sunny southern weather
Find a place inside to laugh
Separate the wheat from the chaff
‘Cause I feel like I owe it to someone
So now BLMtifa scum are in Teddy’s house, giving it a thorough renovation.
What is to be done?
Ain’t it so that you can’t ever no way undo character disorders that were years in the making (that is, Chronic Miserable Bastard Syndrome)? You just have to put them away somewhere. Like you’d use poison to drive cockroaches back into the walls. And when it wears off, out they come again.
Or, you might return some of the mudsters to a semblance of not-too-f^%$ed-upness by dropping them in the middle of a totally foreign and terrifying experience from which there is no escape.
Combat comes to mind.
Or a blazing desert and enough supplies for 50 persons when you have 100 dropping in.
Or a forest fire. “Here ya go, sport. Step lively now.”
Those not culled have a change in attitude, as Jimmy Buffet opined.
The first possibility has no finish. You spend and spend trying to keep them away—as we do with ghetto bros. “Here! Take ’em. Smokes, food stamps, cheap housing, people to beat up, drugs, guns, fat ass girls with hair weaves and big mouths, thumpity-thump jungle tunes to entrain the savage breast to SOME kind of rhythm. Just stay the f^%$ here! Or, we can have a do-again Dresden, if you’d prefer.”
The second is too expensive.
The solution requires 2nd order change—something out of the box.
Field testing munitions has been suggested.
Anyone as sick of this as I am? If one of these chimpsters started yammering in my face, I don’t think I could control the rage-fueled impulse to drive an ice pick upward from the chin, through the tongue and palate, through the sinuses, all the way to the greasy backwards cap.
Remember automobile makers, you must install pressure sensors in each and ever tire, otherwise you can not sell it in America!
Also do not forget that the Energy Policy Act of 1992, which became law in 1994, mandates a maximum flush volume of 1.6 gallons for toilets manufactured and installed after this date. We are watching you!
AnonymousAugust 29, 2020, 11:21 AM
Except all the dried up old hippies from CS&N would wholeheartedly agree with the communist revolutionaries.
ckAugust 29, 2020, 1:32 PM
One of the worst songs in rock. As a huge Springfield, Byrds and later CSN&Y fan I never did like it, and I was a tripping longhair myself.
ckAugust 29, 2020, 1:36 PM
Although, CSN&Y never gripped me like the Buffalo Springfield or the Byrds did.
VanderleunAugust 29, 2020, 3:03 PM
I’m down with the fact that this song is VERY BAD and I also hated it from the first time the needle tracked through the first 30 seconds of the LP’s groove.
But it does illuminate my point: If the government can make you do the little things (cut your hair wear a mask don’t steal don’t life twenty years of schooling and they put you on the day shit”) the big things come that much easier. That’s why we resisted cutting our hair even though today when I see a man with a pony tail I reach for my scissors.
@Lance:
I am every bit as sick of it as you. And, like many, many people, I am carrying toxic levels of anger as this shit keeps rolling.
Every time we leave the house, we see how many of our neighbors have literally become faceless sheep, compliant to their political overlords, impervious to Truth, and who regard us as enemies, threats, and plague vectors. I posted last night about actually going off and confronting some masquetroon on the bike trail, yesterday.
How many times a day are we seized with ‘nuke-the-bastards’ rage, only to have it amplified by the knowledge that there seems to be little we can do about it?
And every trip past a mirror reminds me I’m a skinny old bastard, way past his prime, and not fit for “action”. The gap between what I would do, and what I can do is wide, and grows wider.
I can’t stop it. I can’t change the mind of a masquetroon, and I can’t nuke the bastards.
So right now, my focus does not extend much past looking out for me and my wife. We keep our circle of friends small tight and close. And we’re assessing our means, tying up late life legal stuff, checking numbers, and hoping we can get away from So Cal before it gets worse.
Re: Deja Vu.
I bought that album because I liked “Carry On” well enough when I first heard it on the AM car radio. Waste of my four bucks; worst album I ever owned. God, I hated that record.
Our House: Maudlin treacle, Suite Judy Blue Eyes: Cuck rock, and Carry on: whining self-pity (once I caught the lyrics).
I know music is a matter of taste.
I have no doubt I just pissed on someone’s favorite song(s).
Sorry.
You’re free to tell me I have taste for shit. I’ll even agree. 😉
JWM
SteveS.August 29, 2020, 10:24 PM
“Increases my paranoia, like looking in the mirror and seeing a police car”. – Anyone remember that feeling? I sure do. Back in the day I also knew what it felt like to be profiled not because of the color of my skin but because of having long hair. But then that paranoia was well deserved as most always there was some illegal activity or something illegal being transported, etc. But I also learned real young to comply with the LAPD. You don’t run and you don’t resist. If I could pass on a very obvious pearl of wisdom to today’s law breakers it would be: DON’T RESIST ARREST AND YOU WON’T GET SHOT. I’ve been living in the mountains of Central California for over 35 years and it took a good 5 years to get over that anti-police chip on my shoulder and that horrendous paranoia which plagued my life. I now know and respect so many who man, and woman, that thin blue line.
ghostsniperAugust 30, 2020, 4:48 AM
jwm sed: “So right now, my focus does not extend much past looking out for me and my wife.”
=======
Right there.
For some time now I’ve been establishing ways for my wife to continue to live decently after I am gone. She’s a small gurl so she requires different ways of getting things done here on the estancia in the sticks. The most recent example is, since she’s terrified of my harley riding mower and refuses to even try to use it, a couple weeks ago I bought her an electric start, self propelled push mower. Just push the button and go. She loves it – just mowed the 1 acre front yard yesterday. And on and on. It’s all about her from here on out.
My next step, which will make a large leap forward next week, is to get her ramped up in firearms for self protection. She’s never been negative about my using them but has never shown any interest in using them herself. I took her to the range a long time ago but she insisted on leaving immediately when she heard how loud the gun was. Apparently the movies are slack in conveying how loud they actually are. sigh
So I bought a Umarex model of my Beretta 92FS in .177 cal that is C)2 powered. I’ll receive it next week. It is obviously much quieter but supposedly mimics closely the size and weight of the real one. I am currently building a target holder/backstop that I will install in the side yard for her/me to practice on. My hope is to eventually ease her up to my little Beretta Bobcat .22, and then the 9mm 92FS. There are longer range steps in this process too but I won’t bore you. It’s all about here. Frankly, my greatest terror is how she continues after I am gone in light of the horrifying cultural/political miasma that is ongoing. I hope I’ve made the right choices so far….
Real World Address for Donations, Mash Notes and Hate Mail
Gerard Van der Leun
1692 MANGROVE AVE
APT 379
Chico, Ca 95926
Green Pants Interior by Klahn
Who Am I? by Carl Sandburg
My head knocks against the stars.
My feet are on the hilltops.
My finger-tips are in the valleys and shores of universal life.
Down in the sounding foam of primal things I reach my hands and play with pebbles of destiny.
I have been to hell and back many times.
I know all about heaven, for I have talked with God.
I dabble in the blood and guts of the terrible.
I know the passionate seizure of beauty
And the marvelous rebellion of man at all signs reading “Keep Off.”
My name is Truth and I am the most elusive captive in the universe.
Duty, Beauty, Liberty, Country, Honor, Family, Faith — Plus a few simple easy to follow rules for guys
Men saw the stars at the edge of the sea
They thought great thoughts about liberty
Poets wrote down words that did fit
Writers wrote books
Thinkers thought about it
Take it where you find it
Can’t leave it alone
You will find a purpose
To carry it on
Mainly when you find it
Your heart will be strong
About it
Many’s the road I have walked upon
Many’s the hour between dusk and dawn
Many’s the time
Many’s the mile
I see it all now
Through the eyes of a child
Take it where you find it
Can’t leave it alone
You will find a purpose
To carry it on
Mainly when you find it
Your heart will be strong
About it
[Chorus]
Lost dreams and found dreams
In America
In America
In America
Lost dreams and found dreams
In America
In America
In America
And close your eyes
Leave it all for a while
Leave the world
And your worries behind
You will build on whatever is real
And wake up each day
To a new waking dream
Take it where you find it
Can’t leave it alone
You will find a purpose
To carry it on
Mainly when you find it
Your heart will be strong
About it
[Chorus]
Change, change come over
Change come over
Talkin’ about a change
Change, change
Change come over, now
Change, change, change come over
I’m gonna walk down the street
Until I see
My shining light
I’m gonna walk down the street
Until I see
My shining light
I’m gonna walk down the street
Until I see
My shining light
I’m gonna walk down the street
Until I see
My shining light
I see my light
See my light
See my shining light
I see my light
See my light
See my shining light
Gerard Van der Leun
Comments on this entry are closed.
So now BLMtifa scum are in Teddy’s house, giving it a thorough renovation.
What is to be done?
Ain’t it so that you can’t ever no way undo character disorders that were years in the making (that is, Chronic Miserable Bastard Syndrome)? You just have to put them away somewhere. Like you’d use poison to drive cockroaches back into the walls. And when it wears off, out they come again.
Or, you might return some of the mudsters to a semblance of not-too-f^%$ed-upness by dropping them in the middle of a totally foreign and terrifying experience from which there is no escape.
Combat comes to mind.
Or a blazing desert and enough supplies for 50 persons when you have 100 dropping in.
Or a forest fire. “Here ya go, sport. Step lively now.”
Those not culled have a change in attitude, as Jimmy Buffet opined.
The first possibility has no finish. You spend and spend trying to keep them away—as we do with ghetto bros. “Here! Take ’em. Smokes, food stamps, cheap housing, people to beat up, drugs, guns, fat ass girls with hair weaves and big mouths, thumpity-thump jungle tunes to entrain the savage breast to SOME kind of rhythm. Just stay the f^%$ here! Or, we can have a do-again Dresden, if you’d prefer.”
The second is too expensive.
The solution requires 2nd order change—something out of the box.
Field testing munitions has been suggested.
Anyone as sick of this as I am? If one of these chimpsters started yammering in my face, I don’t think I could control the rage-fueled impulse to drive an ice pick upward from the chin, through the tongue and palate, through the sinuses, all the way to the greasy backwards cap.
Remember automobile makers, you must install pressure sensors in each and ever tire, otherwise you can not sell it in America!
Also do not forget that the Energy Policy Act of 1992, which became law in 1994, mandates a maximum flush volume of 1.6 gallons for toilets manufactured and installed after this date. We are watching you!
Except all the dried up old hippies from CS&N would wholeheartedly agree with the communist revolutionaries.
One of the worst songs in rock. As a huge Springfield, Byrds and later CSN&Y fan I never did like it, and I was a tripping longhair myself.
Although, CSN&Y never gripped me like the Buffalo Springfield or the Byrds did.
I’m down with the fact that this song is VERY BAD and I also hated it from the first time the needle tracked through the first 30 seconds of the LP’s groove.
But it does illuminate my point: If the government can make you do the little things (cut your hair wear a mask don’t steal don’t life twenty years of schooling and they put you on the day shit”) the big things come that much easier. That’s why we resisted cutting our hair even though today when I see a man with a pony tail I reach for my scissors.
@Lance:
I am every bit as sick of it as you. And, like many, many people, I am carrying toxic levels of anger as this shit keeps rolling.
Every time we leave the house, we see how many of our neighbors have literally become faceless sheep, compliant to their political overlords, impervious to Truth, and who regard us as enemies, threats, and plague vectors. I posted last night about actually going off and confronting some masquetroon on the bike trail, yesterday.
How many times a day are we seized with ‘nuke-the-bastards’ rage, only to have it amplified by the knowledge that there seems to be little we can do about it?
And every trip past a mirror reminds me I’m a skinny old bastard, way past his prime, and not fit for “action”. The gap between what I would do, and what I can do is wide, and grows wider.
I can’t stop it. I can’t change the mind of a masquetroon, and I can’t nuke the bastards.
So right now, my focus does not extend much past looking out for me and my wife. We keep our circle of friends small tight and close. And we’re assessing our means, tying up late life legal stuff, checking numbers, and hoping we can get away from So Cal before it gets worse.
Re: Deja Vu.
I bought that album because I liked “Carry On” well enough when I first heard it on the AM car radio. Waste of my four bucks; worst album I ever owned. God, I hated that record.
Our House: Maudlin treacle, Suite Judy Blue Eyes: Cuck rock, and Carry on: whining self-pity (once I caught the lyrics).
I know music is a matter of taste.
I have no doubt I just pissed on someone’s favorite song(s).
Sorry.
You’re free to tell me I have taste for shit. I’ll even agree. 😉
JWM
“Increases my paranoia, like looking in the mirror and seeing a police car”. – Anyone remember that feeling? I sure do. Back in the day I also knew what it felt like to be profiled not because of the color of my skin but because of having long hair. But then that paranoia was well deserved as most always there was some illegal activity or something illegal being transported, etc. But I also learned real young to comply with the LAPD. You don’t run and you don’t resist. If I could pass on a very obvious pearl of wisdom to today’s law breakers it would be: DON’T RESIST ARREST AND YOU WON’T GET SHOT. I’ve been living in the mountains of Central California for over 35 years and it took a good 5 years to get over that anti-police chip on my shoulder and that horrendous paranoia which plagued my life. I now know and respect so many who man, and woman, that thin blue line.
jwm sed: “So right now, my focus does not extend much past looking out for me and my wife.”
=======
Right there.
For some time now I’ve been establishing ways for my wife to continue to live decently after I am gone. She’s a small gurl so she requires different ways of getting things done here on the estancia in the sticks. The most recent example is, since she’s terrified of my harley riding mower and refuses to even try to use it, a couple weeks ago I bought her an electric start, self propelled push mower. Just push the button and go. She loves it – just mowed the 1 acre front yard yesterday. And on and on. It’s all about her from here on out.
My next step, which will make a large leap forward next week, is to get her ramped up in firearms for self protection. She’s never been negative about my using them but has never shown any interest in using them herself. I took her to the range a long time ago but she insisted on leaving immediately when she heard how loud the gun was. Apparently the movies are slack in conveying how loud they actually are. sigh
So I bought a Umarex model of my Beretta 92FS in .177 cal that is C)2 powered. I’ll receive it next week. It is obviously much quieter but supposedly mimics closely the size and weight of the real one. I am currently building a target holder/backstop that I will install in the side yard for her/me to practice on. My hope is to eventually ease her up to my little Beretta Bobcat .22, and then the 9mm 92FS. There are longer range steps in this process too but I won’t bore you. It’s all about here. Frankly, my greatest terror is how she continues after I am gone in light of the horrifying cultural/political miasma that is ongoing. I hope I’ve made the right choices so far….