Month: February 2022

Three quick stories today, and they’re all pretty positive.  Because even in the midst of this train wreck/dumpster fire/Hindenburg disaster of an administration, we’re all cautious optimists up in here.

First, I’d like to lavish a little praise on the Brits.

Sure, they’ve made a few mistakes through the years.  Dressing your troops in bright red coats and having them stand in straight lines in open fields while surrounded by woods crawling with Simpsons with Kentucky long rifles comes to mind.  (Do you want to lose a continent to a bunch of stubborn rustics with a little something I call grit?  Because THIS is how you lose a continent to a bunch of stubborn rustics with a little something I call grit.)

But one thing I’ve always admired about them is the way they let their prime ministers speak to parliament, surrounding by the other politicians who are allowed to holler and jeer at them. 

Compare that to our congress.  When Obama was giving a dishonest speech touting Obamacare and insisted that it would not force American taxpayers to foot the bill for the care of illegal immigrants, one GOP member called out, “You lie!”   (Spoiler alert: Obama was absolutely lying. Of course.)

And every Dem partisan and MSM empty head – but I repeat myself – began shrieking through the dresses that they’d pulled up over their heads, and ran for the nearest fainting couch.

Now I ask you, is that any way for a great country to behave?  Shouldn’t it be our right as free citizens to have our elected representatives mock and heckle our leaders when they are spouting dishonest nonsense?

Well, the Brits have answered “yes” to that question, and God bless ‘em. 

But I hadn’t realized until the past week that the Canadians have the same tradition.  But there was Blackface McSnowflake Trudeau in the Canadian parliament, being dressed down on his anti-scientific covid mandates and lockdowns by an opposition party lady.   

So Trudeau gets up to answer.  (And by the way, does that guy give off a Gavin Newsom, Ken Doll, smooth-plastic-genitalia-area vibe, or what?)  And within the first sentence, he’s already lying his hoser hindquarters off at full highway speed: “Mr. Speaker, every step of the way we’ve had Canadians’ backs by following the science.  By working closely–”

But by that point, my soul-mates in America’s Hat are scoffing loudly, and he turns around and sits down, pouting.

And then, in what has to be a top 5 political moment in the history of Canada – sure, I can’t name any of the other 4… because it’s Canada – the guy in charge tries to quiet the crowd so that the blow-dried castrato can resume his lying.

Above the chorus of mockery, a lone opposition voice can be heard above the others: “Let him answer – he’s not good at it!”

Perfect!  Those words have been echoing in my head for the last week, and if they don’t describe the elite lefties’ (in Canada and America) governance over the last 14 months, I don’t know what does.   

I’m always going to think of that whenever I see Biden sliding into incoherent word salad, or Que Mala stumbling over herself and then laughing maniacally, or AOC excreting inanities that shave IQ points off of anyone unfortunate enough to hear her: “Let them answer – They’re not good at it!” 

That should be our campaign theme for the next several elections, and yet another reason to defend  freedom of speech, and to NOT censor our opponents, whether in debates, or public speeches, or on their execrable talk shows and news networks. 

The more they explain themselves and their policies, the better off we are.

Because they are NOT good at it!

The second tale today is a feel-good crime story that comes to us out of Michigan, where a 32-year-old convicted sex offender named Aian Tracy was out among the public on February 10th.  (Apparently the hospital was having a sale on vowels when his mom was picking out a first name for this creep.)  

His last conviction was for third-degree criminal sexual conduct in 2015.  I’m not sure what that is exactly, but I’m going to go out on a limb and say that he should have been in jail for many years.  But he was given 5 years probation instead.  So yay, soft-on-crime justice system!

Fortunately for Michiganders from 2015 – 19, “Dick” Tracy couldn’t leave well enough alone and “violated the terms of his probation.”  Don’t know what that means either, but it got him 4 years in jail.  (I know: the original crime should have gotten him 10 years, at least.)

Anyway, he gets out and goes straight, never causing anyone any harm ever again.  The end.

HA!  I kid.

Because on February 10^th he was doing something bad to a woman with two kids – the crime reporting is vague – and she called the cops.  When the cops arrived, he pulled out the hatchet he was carrying – as one does – and attacked the cops with it, wounding one in the neck before they shot him with what I can only hope was many, many bullets.  

Sadly, he died… at least 7 years too late.

I know what you are thinking, because I’m thinking it too:  What are we going to do about all of these hatchets?   Many of them doubtless ghost hatchets, bought in Indiana from shady, unlicensed hatchet dealers. They’re going crazy, with the unregulated whacking and the chopping. 

And don’t get me started on the scalping… no offense, Grandma Squanto Warren, but what about the scalping?  (#wemustneverstopmockingher).  

Who will introduce the long-overdue hatchet-control bill on the floor of the house?  Because I haven’t looked into it yet, but I’m quite sure that women and minorities are being hardest hit by the Tomahawk Scourge™

Oh, won’t someone think of the children?  The traumatized, hatchet-mangled children?!

Second, what does it take to be thrown in jail forever in this country? 

I mean, beside walking around inside a government building in a set of buffalo horns like a drunken tourist for half an hour?  Obviously that guy is what happens if Bin Laden and Dillinger’s ghosts identified as a living heterosexual couple and had a baby, so definitely throw the book at him. 

But for anyone other than him, how many repeated sex offenses and other felonies does it take?

On the bright side – I’m here at Cautious Optimism, people – if that creep had been in jail where he belonged, those cops wouldn’t have had the opportunity to shoot him dead. 

So let’s take our wins where we can get them.  And good riddance, Mr. Last of the Mohicans!

Finally a story that is at least a little bitter, but mostly sweet.  By now the data is in, and it’s clear that masking is basically “facial decoration” (according to the CDC!), and that kids in particular pay a high price for being masked, with no corresponding health benefits.

But the left is doing their best to hang on to mask mandates, with teacher union head – and all around terrible human – Randi Weingarten leading the way.  Democrat Boston Mayor Michelle Wu – as in, “Wooo, is she not smart!” – may have summarized it best, when she claimed that, “Kids want to keep masking!”

Now, for an alternative take from the real world, I give you this video of a Las Vegas elementary school classroom when the teacher announced that the mask mandate had been lifted: https://www.bizpacreview.com/2022/02/11/elementary-kids-dance-with-joy-hearing-the-end-of-mask-mandate-and-win-the-internet-1200113/

Man, does watching that video do my heart good!  I’ve watched it a dozen times, and I love everything about it.

I love the immediate, ear-piercing screams, and the spontaneous burst into applause and frenzy.  I love the way it recreates the Charlie Brown Christmas special, in which each kid has his or her own dance. 

The girl in the front starts doing jumping jacks, then transitions to hopping in place.  The boy on the right picks up his chair and looks like he might toss it through a window.  In the background one girl raises both hands over her head and sprints around the room shouting.

 One kid does some kind of Peewee Herman-esque move, one does the Dougie, and the girl in the sweat pants whips off her mask and starts twirling it over head, then starts some kind of swinging her hips and pointing at the sky with both hands thing. 

THAT’S how kids are supposed to act!  That’s what being young means. 

Not being bullied into following baseless orders that are justified only by the neurotic fears of totalitarian adults and the mania for control of totalitarian politicians.  And yes, I’m looking at you, Stacey Abrams, with a self-satisfied smile plastered over your unmasked, bowling-ball head, while you’re surrounded by a bunch of powerless kids who’ve been forced into masks.

The only way this video could have been any better is if — after the teacher’s final rhetorical question, “Is anybody excited?!” — she had said, “Let’s go Brandon!!” to the even more manic cheering of those adorable kids.  

Avenatti/ the ghost of Aian “Dick” Tracy, 2024!

Before I turn to our national challenges, I’d like to say a personal goodbye to an old car that is moving on from my life. 

About 10 years ago, I went to a car dealership to find a pickup to replace my 30-year-old Silverado.  My wife went along for the ride, and when the dealership didn’t have a suitable truck, I noticed a used, sleek, black BMW Z4 roadster on the lot.  I joke that that looked like a fine mid-life crisis car to me.

According to the universal law of wifely duties, my better half was supposed to follow the script, and mock me for my foolishness, and substitute her wisdom for my own whimsy, and steer me off the lot.

Instead, she suggested that I take a test drive.      

I was raised by great parents who were children during the Great Depression, plus I chose a profession that was never likely to bring a princely salary.  So I know better than to buy a new car, and have always opted to buy at least a 2-3 year old car and let the original owner take the butt-kicking on the depreciation. 

(I trust that my economic mentors Thomas Sowell, Milton Friedman and Christopher Silber would approve.)

But this car was 10 years old, and affordable, so I bought it. 

I’ve had a lot of fun with it over the last 9 years, and this week I took it out for a top-down ride around town with Cassie riding shotgun.  There are few things in life more fun than tooling around in a convertible on a sunny day, with a Wonder Dog holding her head into the wind with that blissful look dogs get during a ride.

As we arrived back home, my wife was getting the mail, and she told me to stop so she could get a picture of one happy canine.

The next day, a very expensive part broke (insert your own BMW joke here), and I just got the post-mortem from my mechanic: it doesn’t make financial sense to fix her, so I’m selling her to someone who wants a project. 

If I had known that that last ride in that car was going to be my LAST ride in that car, I couldn’t have picked a better one.  I’ve posted the pic my wife took on my page at Martinsimpsonwriting.com, if you’d like to share that bittersweet moment with me… 

Speaking of bittersweet, watching two bits of tv in the last week provided a sobering experience.

First up was Biden’s brief press availability, after which he repeated the gaffe that he can’t seem to stop making: he called on someone, saying, “They tell me I’m supposed to call on him first.” I’d find it less worrisome if he were listening to the voices in his head, rather than taking orders from some nameless flunky, like the slowest trainee on his first day behind the cash register! 

But then it got worse, when an off-camera female voice started telling everyone the conference was over, and ushered the reporters toward the exits, with a passive-aggressive, “Thank you… thank you…” 

Would any competent, in-control leader allow that?  For a subordinate to just decide that you’re done talking, and announce that you’re finished, and clear the room?  Would a husband or wife allow their spouse to announce, mid-story, that the dinner party is over, and your guests all have to beat it? 

Biden’s reaction was terrifying, considering his office: he looked vaguely disoriented, then plastered an empty grin on the front of his empty head, and just stared around the room at nothing until the feed was cut. 

That evening, as I was clearing some programs from the DVR, I caught a repeat segment of 60 Minutes about Tony Bennett’s final concert, with Lady Gaga, last summer. 

It turns out Bennett has advanced Alzheimers, which is always sad.  But it was fascinating how he came back to himself when the music started playing.  His near-catatonia and minimally responsive reactions disappeared, and he started singing along with the piano, ripping through a dozen songs without a mistake.   The concert itself was also moving, and for the same reason: when the band started playing, the old Bennett came back. 

I couldn’t help but think of watching Biden’s performance.  He’s got exactly the kind of diminished function – the flat affect, the stiff, minimal verbal ability — that Bennett has.  Except that Bennett has, buried within him, a real talent, and one that practically resurrects itself when the moment calls for it.

But Biden has no talent.  At the height of his powers – I know, there’s no way to read that phrase without it being sarcastic! – he was a vapid, backslapping political hack. 

Bennett has a kind of musical muscle-memory that is still there.  The only muscle memory Biden has is that of a peevish, thin-skinned jerk.  When he gets an even mildly pointed question, his vitriolic, inner bully resurfaces, and he calls the questioner fat, or an SOB, or challenges him to a fight or a pushup contest. 

If Jill really loved him, she should have put a stop to this two years ago, when he was flailing in the primaries, insulting voters, and fantasizing about Corn Pop, his own non-existent job as a truck driver, or the marching at Selma that he never did. 

Now we’re stuck with him, and one man’s diminished denouement has become a great nation’s tragic burden.

Another mistake of Biden’s – his ham-fisted declaration that his SC nomination will be an affirmative action pick – provoked an unintentionally revealing analysis from a Slate writer named Christina Cauterucci.

Partisan though she is, Cauterucci has to acknowledge that Biden’s roll-out was botched, in a brutal title and sub-title: “How Biden’s Vow to Name a Black Woman to the SC Backfired – A campaign promise has needlessly tokenized future nominees.”

She begins by pointing out that around ¾ of Americans (including an astonishing 54% of Dems!) reacted negatively to Biden’s statement that he had a racial and gender litmus test for his nominee.  That’s a heartening reaction, and while I’m a little surprised by it, I’m grateful.

But she can’t consider the simple virtue of that position; her ideology is too steeped in racial poison, so she has to explain away obvious implications, and distort the reality of the situation, while (of course) smearing conservatives.

She starts by reciting lefty shibboleths about the proper kind of racial discrimination: judges’ skin color should reflect the population’s, turnabout against white guys is fair play, etc.  She even quotes the least-bright current justice: “As Sonia Sotomayor once said, in a line that was ghoulishly twisted by the right, life as a woman of color offers a ‘richness of … experiences’ that brings great value to judicial decision-making.” 

Of course, that line wasn’t “ghoulishly twisted” by the right – it was accurately quoted. 

Unfortunately for the hard left, most people want judges to interpret the law, rather than following the standard m.o. of Sotomayor and activist leftist jurists, and re-making it according to their own political/ideological preferences. 

Cauterucci stumbled on, trying to excuse Biden’s gaffe.  She faulted his pledge only for being “overly candid,” and pre-emptively blamed conservatives, who she says will “tarnish” the nominee “as lesser,” simply because, “they will assume that anyone chosen in part for her gender and race will not be the best candidate on the merits.”

YES!  Of course they will.  But they won’t need to assume it; it will be the self-evident reality.  Because any time you favor or eliminate any candidate because of genitalia or skin tone, you are by definition not seeking the best-qualified candidate.

You may still end up with a very qualified person, but there will always be some doubt about her merit – that’s one of the terrible but unavoidable consequences of racial preferences.

But Cauterucci really gives the game away when she plaintively asks why Biden couldn’t have just kept his mouth shut.  (We feel your pain, Christina!)  Why couldn’t he have just picked a black woman “without the premature, identity-specific fanfare?”  Why did he have to position his nominee as “only best[ing] other black women for the role, rather than the entire pool of possible nominees?”

And then, in the ultimate self-own: “Wouldn’t she have been better served by the perception that Biden had also considered white men for the slot, and found them wanting in comparison?”

Ah, yes: the perception!

She isn’t arguing that Biden should not have established a blatantly discriminatory racial quota for his pick – only that he shouldn’t have been HONEST about doing so.

And there’s one of the left’s biggest liabilities, in a nutshell: to achieve their goals, they have to lie.

If they admitted that they want open borders and welfare benefits for illegals in exchange for their votes in perpetuity, they’d be rejected.

If they admitted that they want to confiscate the guns of law-abiding citizens, they’d be rejected.

If they admitted that they want high taxes, and high energy costs, and CRT in schools, and forced lock-downs and masking forever, they’d be rejected.   

Far be it from me to contradict Uncle Jesus, when He said that, “The Truth will set you free.” 

But for the hard left – anywhere outside the deep blue cities like SF, LA, NYC, Minneapolis, the bad Portland, etc. — the truth will cost them elections.

Hence their frustration with Biden, who committed the political version of a gaffe: he inadvertently told the truth.

And Slate can’t have that!

Finally, in yet another tragic story, Michael Avenatti has been convicted of yet another crime; this time, it was stealing from his client, Stormy Daniels. 

But don’t lose heart, CO nation!  I, for one, am not giving up on his prospects of rising to the top of his party’s ticket.  It’s not like terribly sleazy and dishonest behavior has kept past Dems from succeeding in politics.

And sure, Avenatti could get sentenced to as long as 20 years.  But if he gets a typical leftist prosecutor and judge, the DA will likely ask for 3 years, and the judge will sentence him to 18 months and a $10 fine.  He’ll be back on the streets – tan, fit and rested – in time for the primaries, where he’ll face Que Mala, Grandma Squanto, and a stage full of extremist deplorables. 

My money is still on the Creepy Porn Lawyer!   (Hat tip to Tucker.) 

Avenatti/ Any Female Minority Person with a Pulse, 2024

I’m sure you all saw the story on the highway crash involving a truck carrying some research monkeys that could be infected by God knows what.  The account I read suggested that a female motorist stopped to see if the truck driver was all right, and he asked her if she could check around the back of the truck to see that nothing was badly damaged.

When she did so, the story said that she “came into contact with at least one of the monkeys,” and she’s now gone into self-quarantine.

First, I hope that quarantine goes better than the covid ones, or else brace yourself for a monkey-pox outbreak of Biblical proportions. 

Second:  Hey truck driver, how about giving the good Samaritan a little head’s up on the trailer-load of infected monkeys before asking her to check things out back there?!

Third, my initial thought upon hearing “rabid monkeys causing chaos in the northeast” was, of course… “Biden’s cabinet?”  

But when I didn’t hear anything about the lead monkey getting captured as he stopped to groom the intoxicating-smelling hair of the female passerby, I knew we weren’t talking about Joey Gaffes.    

On the crime front, if you’re looking for another reason NOT to live in a city run by soft-on-crime Dems, consider the latest in what seems like dozens of cases of people being shoved onto subway tracks by an apparently limitless supply of thugs, mental patients and dead-inside ghouls who make up a substantial slice of Biden’s base voters. 

In this case the victim was able to avoid a direct hit and was only injured, though many previous victims have not been so lucky.  

But don’t worry, because the leftist brain trust has your back.  No, they’re not considering jailing more criminals or institutionalizing more of the mentally ill.  They’ve got an even better solution: don’t stand so close to the tracks, you dope!

I’m not kidding.  The person in charge of the MTA – in a quote I swear I am not making up — said, “I don’t want to tell people that they should stand on subway platforms and feel like they’re, you know, in threat of their lives.  But everybody should stand away from the edge of the platform.”

Or how about all New Yorkers wear red capes whenever they ride the subway?  That way, they can stand on the platform flourishing their cape to attract the attention of any murderous Biden voters in the area.  I don’t think I have to spell out what happens next, but I will anyway:

• Dem-voting meth fan notices the red cape, flares his nostrils, and paws the filthy platform floor
• As he charges, the alert urban bullfighter yanks back the cape as the Dem voter dives forward
• The squeal of train brakes and a hearty “Ole!” mark the end of the would-be murderer
• But he still manages to vote in the next 12 elections

All hilarious kidding aside, I agree with the MTA big shot: wary New Yorkers should avoid standing too close to subway tracks. 

By the way, what’s the closest red state to NYC?  Because that’s how far I’d recommend standing from the subway tracks. 

And now, to give you subject matter whiplash, I have a few thoughts on the arts:

First, I’ve seen the trailer for the new film version of MacBeth, and it looks incredible!  Denzel Washington – an amazing actor and an admirable human being (an exceedingly rare combination) – is MacBeth, Francis McDormand is Lady MacBeth, super-gifted oddball Joel Coen directs, and Shakespeare wrote it! 

I can’t wait to see it.

On the other end of the artistic spectrum, we have a talented writer marring a book with his politics, and a washed-up rocker providing some delicious schadenfreude.

The writer is novelist Daniel Silva, who writes the series of thrillers featuring Gabriel Allon, an Israeli art-restorer and assassin.  I’ve really enjoyed that series, but I was disappointed to see the way Silva allowed his lefty politics to turn the last third of his latest novel, The Cellist, into cartoonishly Trump-hating agitprop.

The book’s villain is a Putin-figure, and it takes place in the aftermath of January sixth, an event which Silva turns into a far-leftist conspiracy theorist’s fever dream: the protestors were a heavily armed, they mounted a serious coup attempt that came within a whisper of toppling the US government.

But those distortions of real life are not enough, and Silva writes a sub-plot in which Biden was nearly assassinated at the inauguration by a crazed right-wing congresswoman who then shoots his protagonist.  He also imagines that Trump himself calls the Putin stand-in, warning him about a plot against him, and nearly getting the book’s noble title character killed.

But even more unbelievable than all that, Silva presents Joe Biden – the real-life one – as a righteous figure who wants to heal the nation, and who will take a firm stand against Putin, and who – get this! — has all his wits about him. 

Talk about asking your readers to suspend their disbelief!

Silva had given signs of his political leanings at various places throughout the series, but he was also the rare lefty who actually defends Israel’s right to exist.  His fictional protagonist got his start as the primary Israeli assassin who took out many of the Palestinian terrorists who murdered the Jewish Olympians at Munich, and Silva doesn’t sugarcoat the jihadi aspects of the Islamic world.

That’s why it’s so disappointing to see an accomplished writer and an obviously smart guy show himself to simultaneously be such a simple-minded, ham-fisted anti-conservative loon.  After I finished the book, I looked into Silva’s bio, and was not shocked to find that his wife works at CNN, and that he used to. 

So I’ve added him to the long list of artists whose work I admire, despite their idiotic politics. 

Speaking of idiotic politics, I have so enjoyed the saga of old Canadian hippie Neil Young facing off against Spotify in a quixotic attempt to get Joe Rogan cancelled! 

The story is a perfect distillation of the four apocalyptic horsemen (horse-persons?) of modern leftism: hypocrisy, ignorance, arrogance and totalitarian bullying.

Let’s start with hypocrisy. 

Last year, the self-styled rebel who casts himself as an enemy of Big Business and the establishment… sold the rights to at least half of his music to Big Business for a reported $150 million.  Why did he do this last year?  Because Biden has been trying to push through a huge increase in the capital gains rate, which would require a lot more taxes from Noble Neil. 

So all of a sudden Mr. “Tax the Rich” is dodging taxes like a veteran Democrat politician.

Plus, he now gets to virtue-signal as if he’s willing to sacrifice song-writing profits for his bold stand, when the only ones who will take a financial hit will be his corporate partners who were gullible enough to trust Neil Young!

Ignorance:  And what was the issue that had the septuagenarian hoser all upset?  He’s offended that Rogan has been spreading “covid misinformation!” 

Wait until the arthritic Canucklehead finds out that everything that Rogan suggested – vaccines don’t prevent infection or spread, masks are only facial decoration, lockdowns don’t work – has now been said by the CDC.

How about arrogance?

Neil Young’s middle name should be “Is Not.”   His last hit was on the charts when Imhotep Pelosi was celebrating her 2300^th birthday, and Ted Kennedy was wearing a fake neck brace to evade responsibility for killing a young campaign worker.

He gets around 6 million downloads a month, a figure that is about a million times more than I would have guessed.

Meanwhile, Joe Rogan gets around 200 million.  Plus he’s a big deal right now, and he doesn’t have the sideburns of a deranged Civil War general.

So naturally, Neil Young figures he can go mano a mano with Rogan, and he called Spotify to demand that they show Rogan the door. 

Man, I wish I could have been a fly on the wall when the nasally crooner from America’s Hat made that phone call!

NY:  Hello, Spotify?  This is Neil Young, and I’m offended by Joe Ro—What’s that?    

Spotify (sounding like Charlie Brown’s teacher):  Wah waaah wah wah?

NY: Neil Young.  From Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young.

Spotify:  Wah wah?   

NY: No, it’s not a law firm.  It’s a rock band.

Spotify:  Waw ah wahh?

NY: No, that’s Stills.

Spotify:  Wah wah wah walrus?

NY: No, that’s Crosby.  I’m Young.

Spotify:  WaWa! WaWaWa!

NY: That’s not funny!  Now listen, I’m offended by Joe Rogan, and I’d like you to get rid of him.

Spotify (long silence): Wa?

NY: Because he doesn’t understand science.  He disagrees with me, and he’s misinforming people.

Spotify (long silence):  Wa Wah Wa?

NY: Neil Young.

Spotify:  Wa Wa Wah?

NY: N-e-i-l  Y-o-u-n-g.

Spotify: Wah wah wa wa?

NY: I already told you: I want Joe Rogan gone! 

Spotify: Wa Wa Wah 200 million.

NY: I don’t care how many downloads he has.  It’s not aboot that, it’s aboot principle, and—

Spotify: WaWa! Wah wah wa?

NY: That’s how we say it up here.  Shut up!  Listen, I’m putting my foot down.  You can have Young or you can have Rogan, but you can’t have bo—

Spotify: Click.

NY: Hello?  Hello? 

And, scene.  

Finally, totalitarian bullying.

It wasn’t that Young disagreed with Rogan, or that he wanted to express himself.  And it wasn’t that Young wanted to make a stand, and pull his music from Spotify.

He wanted to cancel Rogan. Censor him.  Get him fired.

Because elite leftists don’t want a debate, and they don’t tolerate dissent.  Speech that disagrees with them is violence. In fact, they sometimes insist that even silence is violence.

We disagree.  Because when it comes to being threatened with having to listen to a Neil Young song… silence is golden.

Avenatti/ Infectious Highway Monkeys  2024!