After four pretty miserable days followed by a couple of mediocre ones, I think I’m about out of the woods, covid-wise.
I haven’t had a fever in three days, my raw-throat-assisted Brando impression has descended from great to just pretty good, and I’ve lost about six pounds that – let’s face it – I could afford to lose.
In other words, I’m back to being the metaphorical scrappy, possession receiver of the roving correspondents – not much to look at, not a supernaturally gifted athlete, I won’t be wowing anyone with my 40 time or my bench press numbers.
But I’m back, and the old cliché applies:
You can’t stop me, you can only hope to contain me.
Annnnnndddd…then I watch three days of news, and suddenly I’m longing for the shivering, fuzzy brained obliviousness of yester-week.
First, I see Lyin’ Tony Fauci, and he’s hexa-quadrillioned down on his mendacity.
Just this week – in mid-August of the Year of Our Lord 2022! – he hosted an event in which many people inexplicably still continued to listen to him.
Oh, wait: it was in Seattle. Have you been wondering where all of the dullards who created Chaz/Chop went after their nasty, brutal and short utopian experiment quickly descended into bickering, raving, and panhandling amidst a cloud of pot smoke and aerosolized human feces?
Now you know. They went to the Fred Hutchinson Cancer Center in Seattle to listen to Faux-ci be wrong again, and yet still toweringly arrogant. He continues to be frustrated that most of us walk-upright, homo sapiens types are still resisting his “wisdom.”
He said, and I swear I am not making this up, “When you tell people they need to mask in an indoor congregate setting when you’re in a zone that has a high dynamic of infection – that is looked upon by a lot of people as an encroachment on your freedom.”
This guy gives Que Mala a run for her money in the pompously hollow verbosity department. “An indoor congregate setting?” Translation: “indoors”
“A zone that has a high dynamic of infection?” Translation: “the world.”
“An encroachment on your freedom” means “something that clearly encroaches on your freedom.”
That’s right: Fauci says that people are no longer following their national doctor’s advice, and he can’t understand it. Here are his actual words, that actually followed the quote above:
“We’ve never had that before. It’s almost inexplicable!”
Ugh! It’s NOT inexplicable, or even “almost” inexplicable!
It’s the most explicable thing in the history of explicability! Because you know what else we’ve never had before?
YOU! You were wrong about AIDS 40 years ago, and no one has paid attention between then and covid, but you’ve probably been wrong about everything in between.
I’ll bet you’re the one who came up with the food pyramid, which turned out to be totally wrong. And then told us that eating eggs is super-unhealthy, but then that eggs are great, but only if we scramble them and eat them through a mask, or something.
You’re likely the one out of 10 doctors who recommended that your patients chew gum and smoke cigarettes and run with scissors and play in traffic.
I think I’ve seen your JAMA article where you recommend that the best way to avoid getting monkey pox is to take a Jet Blue flight to San Francisco and serially bang 27 strange men – plus two newly divorced marmosets and a bi-curious macaque – with running sores all over their bodies.
Then covid arrived, and you’ve gone 0-and-1745 in predictions, claims, and statements about covid.
And now no one is taking your covid proclamations seriously?
The hell you say!
So I changed the channel, only to land on the story of Manchin and Sinema folding like a beach chair that Michael Moore sat on, and now we’ve got another nearly trillion-dollar spending bill that will make everything worse.
Because you know what kind of federal employees we need another army of?
No, not border agents. And not special forces guys or hospice care providers for all of the octogenarians in Congress.
IRS agents. Eighty billion dollars’ worth of new IRS agents.
Best case scenario: they manage to extract exactly $80B out of taxpayers, producing many years’ worth of wasted time, stress and economy-hobbling waste for our economy, and we break even. I mean, except for the misery and wasted time and all the rest.
Worst case scenario: they extract a lot more than that, in which case we get the misery and the wasted time, AND our economy is killed as dead as Joe Biden.
Plus there’s more graft for green energy that will never work, but will at least strengthen Putin.
Passing a bill that prints and then throws $700B in spending onto the inflation bonfire is bad enough. But calling it “the Inflation Reduction Act?”
You’ve got to give it to the Dems: they are shameless! They are great with the deceptive, 180-degree-wrong naming thing.
They create an organization whose sole purpose is to help women abort their children, thus preventing parenthood. What do they call it? Planned Parenthood!
Their weird mania for sexual confusion and bullying kids and vulnerable adults into denying their obvious, manifest gender persuades those people to take a malign cocktail of hormones that works against their body’s natural function, and to undergo surgery that brutally carves away their properly functioning anatomy.
That course of violently denying their gender is called… wait for it… gender AFFIRMATION treatment.
And now, they call a boondoggle that will surely turbo-charge inflation the “Inflation Reduction Act.”
Well done, morons!
But the news hasn’t been all bad. At least in the sense that some of the pain the Dems are causing is starting to boomerang on them.
I’ve enjoyed watching Greg Abbott and DeSantis sending busloads of illegals to deep blue NYC and DC, exposing their cities to about as many illegals as sneak into Texas in one single day. And then, both Dem mayors prove a theory that I’ve been working on lately: elected Democrats don’t have any mirrors.
Otherwise they couldn’t look at themselves being such colossal hypocrites and not be ashamed. They’ve been beating their chests about how righteous they are, because they are hypothetically welcoming and loving to a bunch of hypothetical illegals whom – in the abstract – they would love to welcome into their city.
Until half a dozen actually show up. Then the Dem officials shriek and moan and pull their dashikis or ponchos up over their heads and blubber that the feds must send them truckloads of cash to help with the “burden” of dealing with actual illegals that they allegedly love so much. When they’re not calling them “a burden.”
“Sanctuary city” is another great lefty label. “Sanctuary” literally has holiness – as in “sanctified” and “saintly” – at the core of its etymology. And the Dems flatter themselves that their ostentatious offering to host immigrants – as long as none of them ever takes them up on it — makes them virtuous.
Uncle Jesus called people very much like them “whitewashed sepulchers.” (It’s not a compliment.)
“Sanctuary” city? More like “sack-tuary city.” As in, the taxpayers shouldn’t give you a dime, so that your crumbling home bases will soon be sacked by the outraged illegals you invited in with no intention of sacrificing anything to improve their lives.
Also, “sack-tuary” as in, “you’re a collection of sacks of shite for behaving so badly, and then congratulating yourselves for it.
Bah!
Rather than end on that down note, I invite you all to go over to Martinsimpsonwriting.com, where you’ll see a picture of Cassie the Wonder Dog from several Halloween’s ago, dressed in the ancestral costume of her mother’s Norwegian ancestors.
I defy anyone to look at that picture and not have their spirits lifted.
It’s been a long 14 years of Biden, but November is coming!
Martin Simpson 