The Lighter Side of the Banking Crisis, and Newark, NJ (posted 3/17/23)

Figuring out the bank closures this week is above my pay grade.  Fortunately, we’ve got financial big brains here like CO and the Silber Surfer to explain the details, and I’d recommend that all CO nation follows their analysis on this topic.

For me, just hearing that the Silicon Valley Bank managed to find $73 million to donate to various BLM- and social justice-related causes is a red flag that they were bound to fail.  Ditto the news that Barney Frank was on the board of Signature Bank, which also went down last week.

Speaking of going down, remember that time when Barney Frank’s live-in gay hooker boyfriend ran a gay prostitution service out of Barney’s DC apartment?  I’m not making that up.  That is a thing that really happened. 

When the news got out, Barney insisted that he had no idea what had been going on.  But I don’t know which is worse: enabling your hooker boyfriend to run a gay brothel in your apartment, or being so clueless that your hooker boyfriend can do that while you remain clueless.

But either way, let’s definitely put a guy with that kind of judgment in charge of a bank!  What could possibly go wrong? 

My favorite part of the bank scandal story came from hacky Jen Psaki, whom I once thought had secured the title of the worst presidential spokesperson ever.  Until along came KJP, whose mindless word-for-word readings of stale and disingenuous talking points have vacillated between infuriating and soporific.

But she loves the girls as much as Barney Frank loves the boys, so your criticisms are invalid.

Anyway, after a jittery weekend, Biden’s handlers re-animated him with a huge jolt of electricity — if you’ve seen the classic movie Frankenstein, it was just like that, except that instead of a lightning strike, they used a diesel generator, and instead of taking place in a Gothic castle, it happened in the White House basement – and he staggered out to make a brief statement in front of the cameras on Monday morning.

The gist of it: Nothing to see here folks.  That’s no joke.  Our banking system is as solid as my economic agenda and our immigration system.  

He closed with a flourish: “Americans can rest assured that our banking system is safe.” 

I don’t think I’m alone in thinking that it would be easier to rest assured if Biden would just rest in peace, instead of being jolted back to life to come out and scare the children (along with the men, the women, and the markets) every time a chicken comes home to roost in the Rose Garden from one of his earlier terrible decisions.  

Once Biden was safely back in his crypt, the Ginger Prevaricator appeared on an MSNBC panel, to reassure their high-school-gymnasium-sized audience that the Biden White House is obviously on the case.  But the evidence she cited had to be the least reassuring message since Biden told the residents of East Palestine, OH that Mayor Pete was taking the reins on that train derailment situation.

Psaith Psaki: “What [Biden] needs to project to the public is, ‘We’ve got this, we have a plan….’ It’s important to know that President Biden does nothing at 9:00 a.m., he is a night owl.   The fact he is doing this at 9 a.m. anyway speaks to how vital the White House recognizes this is to have his voice out there, conveying it to the American public.”

I guess we’re just supposed to forget that for the last several years it was widely reported – if anything on CNN can be considered “widely reported” – that Joe Biden has an “early-to-bed” schedule. 

And really, isn’t that idea a lot easier to believe than a diligent Joe Biden burning the midnight oil?  If that codger isn’t tucked in for the night no later than 10 minutes after Matlock is over, I’ll eat my pointy purple magician’s hat.

Good lord, how much has our leadership bar been lowered?!  In the past, presidents would show that they were fully engaged in a crisis by demanding an emergency meeting with the Joint Chiefs, or calling their cabinet together on short notice, or sending a carrier group into the Persian Gulf.

But Joe Biden got out of bed to squint at – and mumble his way through – some boilerplate text in giant print on the teleprompter by the time most working people had already been on the job for an hour!  Hoorah!   

Psaki should be ashamed of herself for even psaying those words.  If Peter Doocy is reading this, I’m begging him to ask this question to KJP at the next WH presser:  “If the President’s getting up by 9:00 a.m. is supposed to be an indicator of how seriously he takes this crisis, can you give us a list of other wake-up times that would indicate the seriousness of other potential crises the WH may face in the future?”

My guesses:

Putin uses a tactical nuke against Ukraine?  Joe rolls out of bed by 7:00.

A Girl Scout troop with freshly washed, highly sniffable hair arrives for a photo op?  7:05

A single border agent on horseback in Del Rio uses his reins to speed up his horse?  7:15

Another video surfaces of Hunter snorting coke off of a hooker’s behind?  8:15.

Corn Pop shows up on the WH lawn with brass knuckles?  11:30.

A million MS-13 thugs breach our southern border, gas hits $9 a gallon, our national debt hits $38 trillion, and a Chinese spy balloon crashes into a train carrying deadly chemicals, setting off an explosion that kills every citizen in a Midwestern red state?

Joe hits the snooze button.

On a lighter note, I’m always on the lookout for funny stories, even if the political ones are sometimes tinged with tragedy, because they involve our leaders and how bone-deep stupid they can be.  But the harmless stories are even more enjoyable.

An example of such a recent one is a 2022 incident involving Whoopi Goldberg.  When she’s not being flatulent and oblivious on the unwatchable The View, she still occasionally acts in movies.  After a recent performance, one reviewer questioned why she had worn such a distracting fat suit in the film.

And then Whoopi had to come out and admit that… wait for it… she hadn’t been wearing a fat suit.

Ouch!  (Also, HA!) It’s almost enough to make one feel sorry for her.  I mean, if she weren’t constantly spewing misinformed hatred and slander at all even quasi-conservative Americans.

So in the spirit of punching up rather than down – since Whoopi is rich and famous and I’m just an obscure hilarious genius – here is an appropriate joke at her expense:

I never fat-shame people, because you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.  On the other hand, if a book is really, really thick, no one is ever going to read it.     

(By the way, if Whoopi’s future biographer chooses “Flatulent and Oblivious: the Whoopi Goldberg Story” as a title, I expect royalties.  Because that is the perfect title, and I hereby copyright it, right now.)  

What prompted this is another very funny story you may have heard about: last week, Newark, New Jersey had a televised ceremony in which they became a sister city to the Hindu nation of Kailasa.

The ceremony featured the usual accoutrements of such an occasion: a joint signing at City Hall of a cultural trade agreement, along with an exchange of trophy-like gifts and a series of hand-shake photos.  

Usually, the worst criticism of such a harmless event is that it is a time waster.  As you may know, Newark is a Democrat-run city, which unfortunately (but necessarily) means that it is badly run. 

Therefore, it would probably be a better use of city employees’ time and resources to tackle the usual serious problems: potholes unfilled, criminals un-caught and un-jailed, taxes higher than a Biden-era grocery bill, city officials running gay brothels out of their homes. 

You know, the usual.

But if Newarkians want to take a little escapist break from the misery of the grifters and incompetents they’ve voted to saddle themselves with, what is the harm in extending the hand of friendship to the Kailasans?

Only one thing: Kailasa doesn’t exist. 

It’s a made-up Hindu nation, the invention of a notorious scam artist named Swami Nithyananda.  And because the city officials went to Dem-run public schools, and don’t have access to either maps or Google – not to mention Google Maps – they fell for it.

Of course, not that long ago Newark elected Cory “Spartacus” Booker as its mayor.  So this is hardly the most laughable fraud they’ve been duped by.

Their first clue should have been that sister city programs traditionally involve two cities – as the name “sister cities” implies – rather one city and one nation.

Their second clue?  That a nation anywhere on earth would want to be voluntarily associated with Newark, NJ. 

This situation gives me a great idea, though.  I say we reach out to Swami’s people, and get them to approach Biden and Que Mala, and propose an executive branch exchange with Kailasa.  They get our current leadership, and we get whoever they can round up to pose as their leaders.  

(To paraphrase the late, great William F. Buckley, “I’d rather be governed by the first 300 people in the Kailasa phone book than by the entire Biden administration.”)

We could even throw a few senators into the deal.  I know at least one who would jump at the chance to claim that she is an India Indian, since the American Indian thing didn’t pan out.  (#wemustneverstopmockingher)

Have a great weekend, everybody!

“Dr.” Jill Biden/ Grandma Squanto Nithyananda, 2024!

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