Scott Adams: The Enemy of the People Trying to Kill Tucker Carlson’s Family
What needs to happen at the New York Times:
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Home is where one starts from. As we grow older
The world becomes stranger, the pattern more complicated
Of dead and living. Not the intense moment
Isolated, with no before and after,
But a lifetime burning in every moment
And not the lifetime of one man only
But of old stones that cannot be deciphered.
There is a time for the evening under starlight,
A time for the evening under lamplight
(The evening with the photograph album).
Love is most nearly itself
When here and now cease to matter.
Old men ought to be explorers
Here or there does not matter
We must be still and still moving
Into another intensity
For a further union, a deeper communion
Through the dark cold and the empty desolation,
The wave cry, the wind cry, the vast waters
Of the petrel and the porpoise. In my end is my beginning.
When all Earth’s seas shall Levitate,
Dark shawled within the skies,
Upon our eyes will Starfish dance
Their waltz of Blind surprise.
The sun will Rise within wine Dark
As Argonauts imbibed,
Whose drunken arms embrace that sleep
Where Phaeton’s horses Stride.
Upon all of Earth’s wind-sanded shores,
As dolphins Learn to soar,
All we once were on the land
Shall be sealed behind the door
Of Ivory and Chastened Gold,
That the Mystery solved complete
Shall never til the seas’ Long fall
Wake mariners from their sleep.
— Van der Leun
I CELEBRATE myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, form’d from this soil, this
air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their
parents the same,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.
— Walt Whitman
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
— The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T. S. Eliot
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Gerard Van der Leun
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This is them practicing the “new civility, or “going high when we go low” or any variation of their bullshit they spew that keeps their idiot voters thinking how righteous they are.
Tucker should reveal their names and addresses. No more of this “We’re better than that” bullshit.
Game Theory, Tit-fo-Tat: Bad Actors will continue to act badly until they get a taste of their own medicine. I don’t want these rules, but I’ll be goddamned if I let them play by one set of rules while they inflict another on me.
War to the knife, knife to the hilt.
That certainly sounded like a promise to me.
Can anyone here, or over at any other site, do a search for the addresses of the photographer and reporter now assigned to Tucker’s family? Can WE HELP by publishing their addresses?
I despise, detest, and distrust the NYT, and its little dog WaPoo, too!
butch sed: “Tucker should reveal their names and addresses.”
=======
Yes, cuck style.
Or he could summons a pair and confront the shitstain forthright and goad him into taking a swing.
It seems numerous fans have already doxxed the NYT reporter. MOAR! PLEASE!
They can always get another job.
Fuck up their dental records and they won’t work, or eat solid food, for months.
The picture with caption “what needs to happen at the NYT” would indicate that someone inside the NYT would start that fire. I believe that would be highly unlikely. NYT has for a very long time been far left of any reasonable expectation of journalistic integrity.
Doxxing NYT reporters, editors and photographers would be far more effective and realistic….and well deserved. Bringing things to the next level might include things like splashing accelerant on the hair and clothes of traitorous agents of the Gray Lady. Follow on actions from that point are largely in the hands of the NYT staff.
It would be a shame if that gorgeous head of hair were to catch fire. Or, Lovely designer outfit there. It would be a terrible thing if it caught on fire.
Anne,
http://www.murraycarpenter.com/about–contact.html
Belfast, Maine is a sleepy little seaport town along Hwy #1 – https://cityofbelfast.org
Shouldn’t be too hard to find the little cretin.
“Fuck up their dental records and they won’t work, or eat solid food, for months.”
Or, for the females, create phony birth certificates for their non-existent children. Inform authorities that children seen to have “disappeared.” Notify friendly media of “missing” children.
Don’t expend much expense or energy. A single .22 LR no noise round from a tiny North American Arms in the temple would do all that is needed and would not even likely be heard.
Jack sed: “….22 LR no noise round…”
=====
You can get Fram oil filters at Walmart for about 7 bux.
That, and a roll of blue tape, and you’re in bidnit.
Quite a few over at Gab have already dox’d not only that little prick but his wymon photographer and a shitload of NYT editors as well.
What fucking goes around…
Or we could test things by doxxing the self-righteous “reporter” who called the WH Press Secretary a “lying b!tch” earlier this week on-camera and with full sound. Haven’t heard any follow-up to that, have we? They’ll only learn once a few have been bloodied…