Author: martinsimpsonwriting

I’ve got a Gloomy, H.L. Mencken Vibe Going into This Weekend (posted 8/16/24)

This is going to be an unusually dark column for me.   

But before getting started, I want to say that I enjoyed CO’s post celebrating 8 years of this site, and I share in the memories and appreciation expressed in your comments.  I can’t believe it’s been 8 years already; it’s been a source of great joy for me to read and write here, and I look forward to more of the same in the future.

That being said, today’s theme is a twist on one of this column’s repeated refrains: I think I might be coming to the point that I actually DO hate the mainstream media as much as I should!

I should warn you that my thoughts today are probably R-rated, which feels really weird, coming off reading all the kind words and happy thoughts in the reaction to CO’s piece.  Anyway, reader discretion is advised… 

If none of you know the name Nina Burleigh, I wouldn’t blame you.  She’s a run-of-the-mill MSM journalist with all of the right credits: wrote for Time, Newsweek, the WaPo, Huff Po, has taught “journalism” at Columbia, etc.  She even wrote a disparaging book about Trump’s treatment of women. 

In other words, a leftist, gender-feminist hack in good standing.

After she covered the White House in the 1990s, she wrote an article in “Mirabella” – I don’t know either – in which she described being invited to play a card game with Bill Clinton on Air Force One.  By the end of the game, it was clear that he’d been flirting with and ogling her, and her reaction was very revealing. 

She wrote, “We all know when we’re being ogled. The weird thing was that I didn’t mind. There was a time when the hormones of indignant feminism raged in my veins. An open gaze like that, at least from a man of lesser stature, would have annoyed me. But that evening, I had the opposite reaction.”

I’m not making that up.  This professional woman who considers herself a feminist confessed in a public forum that she got all tingly when a prominent man who was well known for treating women like dehumanized sexual humidors turned his creepy gaze her way.  (I know: gross.) 

She even revealed that she’s also a class-conscious snob, because if a man “of lesser stature” than a powerful leftist lech were to show any interest in her, she’d be outraged.  So watch out, bartenders or truck drivers or electricians who might ever encounter naughty Nina: if you so much as look at her wrong, expect to be on the receiving end of one angry lecture about the patriarchy, which is worse than Nazism!

Do you think I’m being too harsh on Burleigh?  Well consider that when Howard Kurtz interviewed her about that should-have-been-mortifying article, she gave him this infamous quote, which in a just world would be on her tombstone:   

“I’d be happy to give [Clinton] a b*** j** just to thank him for keeping abortion legal.”

And I’m sure he’d be happy to take you up on that, Nina.

So you might be asking, “Martin, why are you bringing this offensive story up, on a classy site dedicated to optimism and good cheer?”

Because I am only human, and I’m afraid for my country, and I’ve now moved through disgust and straight into furious.  I’ve always agreed that we don’t hate the media enough.  But I’ve also thought that the absolute depth to which “journalists” could sink was Burleigh’s descent into voluntary prostitution for the sake of politics.

And that’s really an insult to hookers!  Because I’ve been told that some of them have hearts of gold.  And I know that most of them do what they do because they are in desperate straits.  And they do it for money, which is at least an understandable motive!

Not like this rich, educated, powerful woman who would voluntarily debase herself, not for cash, but for the opportunity to abort more children!

Before this year, I would have told you that it would be impossible for journalists to sink any lower than nasty Nina.  Many of us felt the same, believing that the MSM had long ago hit rock bottom.

And the MSM then said to us, “Hold our bottle of mouthwash, and watch this.”

And they spent four years pimping for Joe Biden.  It was bad enough when he was just going arse-over-tea-kettle up staircases and falling over sandbags.  But then he went full comatose, and they insisted that behind closed doors he was a Jeffersonian genius, subtle of mind and capacious in his understanding.  They said that they couldn’t keep up with his vigorous workouts. 

Then the debate happened, and we all saw the corpse behind the curtain.  And we finally understand how Burleigh’s masochistic slavishness could get even worse: by adding necrophilia into the mix!

Ugh. 

Okay, so the MSM’s lying for Biden surpassed the degradation of BJ Burleigh.  But surely THAT would have to be the lowest they could go, right?

NOPE!  They all turned on a dime, threw Biden under the bus, and without missing a beat, turned into slavish cunning linguists for Kamala. 

They sang her praises, in terms just as unbelievable as they sang Biden’s four months ago.  Some idiot even wrote a hagiographic article talking about how carefully she “curates her sentences.” 

Curates!  That’s what a museum staff does with a traveling exhibit of Renaissance art, or Roman statuary, or early Shakespeare folios! 

And you know what you’d never see written on one of those folios?  Gibberish about the significance of the passage of time, or the joys of Venn diagrams, or falling out of a coconut tree and landing on an electric schoolbus!

Sweet, merciful crap!  These hacks are re-typed the Que Mala campaign’s talking points.  She’s not a leftist; she was never the border czar; she loves fracking.  She doesn’t cackle like a lunatic – that’s just “expressing joy.”  Plus she just came up with this great new idea: no taxes on tips!

Her website has not a single policy position on it, and none of them bring that up.  She doesn’t answer a single question or give any of the presstitues the time of day, and they kiss her feet.  She says she MAY deign to schedule an interview a month from now, and they say, “thank you ma’am, may we have another?”

But they still have enough energy to also crawl across the floor to Tampon Tim Walz – the knee pads help – and give him a tongue bath, too.  He’s not a far-left freak who can’t tell the difference between Stalin and Mr. Rogers – who’s to say where socialism stops and neighborliness begins?  Not Mr. Midwest Football Coach Father Figure! 

He didn’t shut down Minnesota for years over covid, and invite sexually confused kids to leave their parents and go to the Land of 1000 Castrations for their free, gender-affirming mutilations.   And he certainly never let mostly peaceful leftist rioters burn Minneapolis for days before sending in a token force of National Guardsmen. 

And speaking of the Guard, remember when A-wol Walz fast-roped into an LZ, his face painted, a combat knife clenched in his teeth and a belt-fed weapon in each brawny arm, as he mowed down Taliban jihadists… in Italy?

Which my handy atlas tells me is 2,985 miles from Kandahar?

I apologize to CO nation for the momentary blackness of my mood, but I really hate these people.  And I’m heartsick that they appear to have a slight lead in this election.  And if our really, literally evil media have their way, these two far-left liars will slither their way into the White House for four more years to do mortal damage to our country. 

I’m sorry, people.  It feels therapeutic to call these people out, but I know that it’s not good for me to be this simultaneously mad and heartsick. 

So I’m going to try not to think about our corrupt and dangerous MSM this weekend.  The wife and I are taking our youngest back down to college for her final undergrad semester today.  When we get back we’re going to have a good meal, and then I’m going to spend my Saturday reading the newest Nick Petrie thriller novel.

At some point in the day I’m going to call up a Cheap Trick song on Youtube, and spend an hour or two letting the song choices that pop up take me down a rabbit hole of the pre-rap music of my youth.  On Sunday I’ll spend a little time in church, read a little Scripture, and ask for forgiveness, and to be able to let go of the bitterness I’m feeling for our political opponents.

And by Monday morning, I hope to have a more positive and uplifting column for you.

But do I expect that this Sunday, the Old Testament lesson might resonate more for me than the New Testament one does?  And will a light dusting of “please smite our enemies in the media” make its way into my prayers?I’ve

Most indicators point to “yes.”

Hamas delenda est!

Stupid Criminal Stories (posted 8/12/24)

As usual, there’s a lot going on, but I’m going to take a break from the political horse race.  I’m not going to talk about the Olympics either, other than to note that the two male boxers in the women’s boxing competition beat the tar out of their opponents, and both won gold medals.   

Unexpectedly!  (Also, go friend yourself, Olympic committee.)

Instead, I’m going to make this a Crime Stories Monday column.  I always enjoy a good “stupid criminal” tale, and today I’ve got several that I’ve been saving, along with a couple stories that elucidate leftist vs. conservative reactions to crime.

First up is a story from last fall in Dallas, where a Korean guy named “Kim” (unexpectedly!) owns a small beauty supply store.  The store has been plagued by a lot of shoplifting, and Kim has tried at least one strategy that would work in Korea: public shaming.

The front of his shop features a photo lineup of local ne’er-do-wells who have been caught stealing in the store, with a sign saying, “Best Shoplifters.”  Though I’m not sure he’s got that right, since the really good shoplifters don’t usually have full-color pictures of their big stupid faces caught in the act of stealing plastered all over the store.

But I digress.

This story starts when Kim saw yet another low life trying to shoplift.  (She was wearing what looks like a shower cap and flip flops, so you know that she’s really focused on accentuating her natural beauty.)  And just like AOC and many other lefties with ten-cent heads often tell you, she was just stealing food to keep her children from starving.

Oh no, wait.  This was a beauty supply store, and she was stealing fake eyelashes and lash glue. 

Don’t laugh: everyone knows that wearing a big ol’ set of false eyelashes is one of the best ways to distract from your hideous shower cap.  I mean, other than not wearing a hideous shower cap out in public. 

So Kim confronts Zsa Zsa and tells her to put the lashes and glue back, and she says something like, “Oh no you dih-unt,” and punches him in the face. 

Now I don’t know Kim’s specific lineage – if you can forgive an old white guy’s ignorance, he looks exactly like every other Korean I’ve ever seen – but I’m guessing that he’s related to my heroes, the famous Roof-Top Koreans.  (Those were the guys who got up on their store roofs with long guns when violent mobs of looters approached during the LA riots 30 years ago.  And the mobs became peaceful protestors out for a non-rioting stroll until they got out of sniper range.) (Unexpectedly!)

This Kim apparently never got the memo about how you can’t hit a thief after she steals your lash glue and punches you in the face.  (I think that’s a bit of English common law going back to the Magna Carta.)  Because he gave her a stiff right jab that knocked her out of her flip flops and onto her arse.  He followed up with a spinning right kick. 

Each time I watch that kick, I do my best Bruce Lee impression, saying, “Hoooh ahhh” as his kick catches her shoulder. 

And it’s a good thing he kicked her, because she was in the process of pulling a gun out of her purse, which she fumbled with and managed to fire into the floor before he knocked it away from her.  Kim then laid on top of her until the cops came and arrested her. 

She was charged with first degree armed robbery and held on a $75K bond.  I haven’t been able to find anything else about the story.     

The previous July, in Norco CA, 80-year-old liquor store owner James Cope was doing some paperwork at 2:47 a.m. when he saw a car pull up and four armed thugs jump out with rifles and rush toward the front door. 

Because he is not AOC, Cope didn’t assume that they were there to steal food to feed their children, and he grabbed his shotgun.  When the first thug through the door – a Rhodes Scholar called Rasheed DaShawn Belvin – started to point his rifle at Cope, Cope coped with his stress by firing his shotgun.

Whereupon Belvin and his buddies all ran out to the BMW, leaving a trail of urine in their wake, with Belvin yelling repeatedly, “He shot my arm off!”

Tragically his arm was not shot off, and he was caught and arrested later at a hospital, where doctors were able to save his arm. 

The best part of the story?  A local entrepreneur raised money for Cope by selling t-shirts bearing the words, “Don’t Mess with Norco – We’ll Shoot Your Arm Off!”  

Which brings me to Mandeville, Louisiana last week, where a criminal with an amazingly great criminal name decided that he’d give home invasion and assault a try.  Police say that Careyunius Smith – how can you not smile when you say that? – was skulking around a garage when one homeowner confronted him. 

That homeowner yelled, and when a second homeowner came out and told Careyunius to beat it, he started beating on the first guy instead.  So the second guy goes back in the house and comes out with his gun. 

And then Careyunius – which does not quite rhyme with “genius” – decides to charge the armed man.  As one does.

Then yada yada yada, Careyunius gets a bullet removed from his abdomen and goes to jail.   

These three stories remind us of the eternal truth that most criminals are idiots.  But an equally eternal truth is that most leftists’ reaction to crime is idiotic.

Take the example of Encino, CA, a formerly safe area that has been experiencing a wave of home invasion burglaries lately, culminating in a homeowner being injured by two invaders, before shooting and critically injuring one on July 9th. 

Local government officials then released an apology for not keeping law abiding citizens safe, and supported the homeowner who shot the criminal.

HA! I kid because I love. 

In fact, LA Mayor Karen Bass said that “spectacular-type crime” like brazen smash-and-grab robberies in the same area creates fear mostly because it’s “exploited by the press, and particularly the conservative press that wants to paint…Democrat-run cities as though we are in a crisis of crime.”

Yes.  That vaunted “conservative press” that has dominated California, with its misleading statistics, facts, and video of crimes as they occur, falsely suggesting that everything in Dem-run cities is neither hunky nor dory. 

An LA cop spokesman took the same approach, scolding residents that “people tend to overreact to spikes and dips in crime all the time.”  When asked about the 40% recent increase in burglaries in Encino, he said that the media have “overreported the situation.” 

It’s that kind of brilliant reaction that is making even the most hemorrhagic of the bleeding heart CA liberals considering the previously unheard of strategy of defending themselves.  Resident Sam Avishay said, “All of this has made me rethink my long-held belief that I should not be a gun owner.”

Ya think?  How’s that Ben Shapiro saying go?  “Facts don’t care about your long-held beliefs?” 

Let me close on a more optimistic note, because reality is conservative, even in California.     

Exhibit A: On July 30th in Oceanside, a jackass armed with – and I quote – “a rock and a stick” broke into a home occupied by a male and a female.  He threw the rock at the male, hitting him in the head.  Whereupon the male shot and killed him.

Which illustrates why there is a lot more suspense involved in playing “rock, paper, scissors” than when playing “rock, stick, gun.”

Exhibit B:

When a bunch of pro-Hamas protestors shut down the Golden Gate Bridge in April, they trapped hundreds of commuters on the bridge, including a disabled school kid stuck on a bus for four hours, a surgeon who had to cancel and reschedule all of his surgeries that day, and a brain tumor patient who had to delay his surgery appointment. 

Now – mirabile dictu! – San Francisco DA Brooke Jenkins (who replaced commie disgrace Chesa Boudin after he was recalled) announced that 26 of the moronic, narcissist protestors are being charged with crimes, and 8 of them with felonies. 

That’s not enough, and I’ll believe it when they get convicted and receive long sentences.

But it’s a start.

Hamas delenda est!

Cori Bush is Gone, & What Do the 2 VP Choices Tell Us? (posted 8/9/24)

Let’s start with a little good news today: racial arsonist and professional mean-spirited dullard Cori Bush is out! 

Bush became the second Squad member – after Jamaal Bowman, the guy who despite being a middle school principal for years, never figured out how a fire alarm works – to get whipped in a Democrat primary.  Thus raising the collective IQ of the Democrat party, in both cases.

(But wow, talk about damning with faint praise!)

Bush reacted to her loss by hollering like a lunatic and blaming the evil Joooos!

Unexpectedly! 

Hilariously enough, she also suggested that, in the words of one media report, “she is no longer bound to the decorum of Congress.”  Because what word do you think of when you hear the name “Cori Bush?”

That’s right: decorum. 

She put it more colorfully, and more ungrammatically. “AIPAC, I’m coming to tear your kingdom down.  [All you did was take] some of the strings off.  They about to see this other Cori, this other side.”

We’ve seen all sides of you, Cori, and they all hideous.  (See what happened there?  If you listen to Bush for more than a few seconds, you begin to lose the ability to properly conjugate verbs.)  

So good riddance to bad racists.

Turning to another topic, I’ve noticed that the Walz pick is a kind of a funhouse mirror reflection of the Vance pick.  Both choices have some surface similarities.  Neither one was the most strategically smart pick, in that they don’t obviously (or at least potentially) add voters to the ticket, and they double-down on their party’s prez’s perceived image.

JD is seen as having similar strengths to Trump’s – quick on his feet, eager for a fight – with possibly a little more polish, and a counter-programming up-from-poverty biography.  I thought that popular VA governor Youngkin would have been a more balancing pick, increasing the chances of getting VA’s electoral votes, and introducing a less pugilistic and abrasive style that’s more likely to attract people who like Trump’s policies but not his personality. 

Walz, as widely discussed, is as far left as Kamala, and brings no new voters to the ticket, as opposed to Shapiro, who might’ve brought PA with him.  Shapiro was also perceived as more moderate – he IS more moderate than Walz, though that’s like saying Bernie Sanders is more moderate than Fidel Castro – and so could have reinforced the Dems’ and MSM’s totally dishonest branding of Que Mala as NOT the extreme leftist that she obviously is.

So each pick was a matter of “steering into the skid” for both Trump and Harris.      

But the VP nominees also have huge differences.

Vance is competent and smart, with an impressive resume and at least a logical means of appealing to votes Trump needs, via his blue collar background.  Walz’s record shows that he’s not competent, and after just a preliminary examination, his veneer of normalcy and accomplishment – football coach, teacher, hunter, long military career – crumbles to reveal something entirely different.

Vance also reflects who Trump actually is, whereas Walz undermines the messaging about who Kamala is. 

Additionally, look at the avenues of attack.  The left, digging as hard as they can, have found only three attack lines against Vance: the fake couch story, the childless cat lady comment, and the “weird” label.  The first is a proven lie, now admitted to by the leftist troll who wrote and posted the fake “excerpt” from Hillbilly Elegy that leftist liars are now repeating.  Because they suck.

The second is a pretty harmless joke, made in the context of supporting an essential behavior necessary for the survival of a healthy country: more people need to form stable households and have more kids.  

And the third is evidence of the left’s desperation, and a textbook case of projection.  Calling someone “weird” over and over again – sans any reasonable examples or evidence – is something you’d expect from a bunch of grade school bullies who are feral in the way that all creepy, peer-pressure-influenced cliques of kids can be feral.

Except that these creeps are highly paid, grown-ass adults with influential jobs.

To quote the late Joe Biden – What’s happened to that guy lately, by the way?  Has anybody seen him? – think about it:

If the left had any legitimate grounds on which to attack Vance, do you think they’d be resorting to this schoolyard, “He’s a weirdo!” taunting?  If Vance had been caught driving drunk at over 90 mph and then tried to get out of it by claiming that he was deaf, for example, do you think they’d be going with the mean “cat lady” joke? 

If he’d lied about his military service, or presided over riots and crime and population flight from his failing state, or supported hugely unpopular policies like destroying our borders or castrating children, do you think the “weirdo” label would be their main focus?    

Walz, on the other hand, has the glaring flaws mentioned above.  Plus, he’s the one who came up with the “weird” tag for Vance, but he is himself deeply strange. 

The guy loves communist China as much as Eric Swalwell likes Chicom honeytraps.  He picked the date of his wedding because it was the date of the Tiananmen Square Massacre (!), and he chose to honeymoon in that suffering country.  (Shades of Bernie Sanders honeymooning in the Soviet Union!  I don’t think it’s coincidental that these guys get aroused when in close proximity to a hugely powerful government oppressing regular people.) 

He’s creepily gleeful about letting confused kids who are either mentally ill or influenced by a social contagion to make permanently damaging sexual alterations to their bodies against their parents’ will. And his weirdo wife – he tried to give her a hearty handshake rather than a hug or kiss after his nomination, because who can feel amorous when there’s no weeping victims in a gulag nearby? – was giddy about BLM rioting and burning the property of others, saying that she left her windows open so she could smell the smoke from burning tires.

If THAT doesn’t scream “weirdo!” at you, your weirdometer is broken!

Speaking of wives, JD has an Indian wife – pardon me, “a wife of color” – and biracial children.  One leftist idiot on MSNBC – it was Molly Jong-Fast, but you’d need a program to be able to tell one moron from another on that network – claimed that his pro-child stance was actually a racist dog whistle, because he clearly only wants more white children. 

Which means that she either didn’t know who his wife and children are – in other words, she’s an incredibly lazy journalist — or she is weapons-grade stupid. 

Or, to be fair, possibly both. 

Since that pathetic smear attempt went over like a John Wayne film festival at a Liz Warren family reunion (#wemustneverstopmockingher), nobody on the left has mentioned JD’s family again, as far as I know. 

In summary, the biggest problem the Dems have with Vance is finding a legitimate problem with him to focus on, while the biggest problem the GOP has with Walz is choosing which of his massive liabilities to focus on. 

One editorial note: I keep spelling Walz’s name as “Wolz,” for some reason.  I had to correct it several times in this column, and I couldn’t understand why.

But then I remembered: it all goes back to one of the top 5 movies of all time, The Godfather.  The name of the movie producer who resists giving Johnny Fontane a lead role in an upcoming movie is Jack Woltz, and I think I’ve subconsciously associated his creepiness with whatever is off about Tampon Tim Walz.

On a related note, while it would be truly horrifying to wake up with a horse’s head in your bed, it would be much worse to be woken up by Que Mala’s horse laugh in your bed.

I don’t know how Willie Brown handled it.   

Hamas delenda est!

I Survived the Storm, and Kamala Blew the VP Pick (posted 8/7/24)

Regular readers will know that I am crazy about my wife, and that my daughters are the apples of their daddy’s eye.  But this week I’ve discovered a love that almost threatened to supplant their place in my affections.  The object of that love?

Electricity.  Sweet, quality-of-life-improving electricity!

Which is my way of saying that because of the storm, our power was out for 27 hours, from 2:15 Monday morning until 5:30 Tuesday morning.  For much of that time I was home alone, but I had various battery-powered lights, including a LED light on a headband that I usually use during handyman projects.

And I had my faithful Wonder Dog at my side.  Plus three indifferent cats, who skulked around on the edges of darkness, inscrutably.   

I made bacon and eggs for breakfast on our gas stove, and I cooked some steak on our gas grill for supper.  And with no tv to watch or computer to write with, I read a novel and a half in those 27 hours. 

The biggest downside – other than the heat and humidity that quickly displaced the indoor air conditioning on which human life in Florida during August depends – was that I had just bought a gallon of ice cream on Friday.  And my frugal Midwestern upbringing brought me to a dark night of the soul around 2:30 on Monday night: should I try to eat an entire gallon of ice cream right now, so that it won’t go to waste?

I fought off the temptation, hoping that the power would be restored soon.  So RIP, gallon of ice cream.

My wife and daughter’s plane – returning from Emily’s 10-week research fellowship in Boulder, CO – landed at 7:30 Monday night, and we got to spend that evening together, sweating in our living room around a small pop-up camp-style light while she told us how much fun she’d had, and how much she liked the school, her professors and her classmates.

By the way, if any of you would like to learn about her summer project – snappily titled, “Numerical Simulations of the Interaction of Jupiter’s Magnetospheric Plasma with the Atmosphere of Europa” – don’t ask me, because I don’t understand it.  But mom and I are both proud of her.   

So I woke up to sweet electricity, and spent the day cleaning up fallen palm fronds, Spanish moss and mostly small tree limbs.  I took a pick-up load to the dump, and then cleaned up the yards of our rental houses too, filling a bunch of barrels and another truck-bed before coming home for a shower.

Then I checked the computer and found that Que Mala had thrown us all a curve ball and picked Tim Walz from Minnesota for her VP. 

As I wrote before, I had thought she’d pick one of two smarter choices, Mark Kelly or Josh Shapiro.  Shapiro was the heavy favorite throughout the weekend, and her turn away from him is a big tell.

I thought he’d have been the smartest choice, mostly because he was perceived as more moderate – which he isn’t – as always, thanks, lying MSM scumbags! – and because PA is a must-win for her, and he would’ve made that more likely.  I’d been prepared to write that despite the general  awfulness of the national Dems, it’s an encouraging sign that they over-rode their own Jew-hating, jihadi caucus to pick him. 

But NOPE! 

On that theme, CO’s musings last week about how Jews vote Dem was thought-provoking.  I think he is sadly right that so many Jews continue to vote left even as the anti-Semites on the left hold serious sway, and the left generally is either neutral or anti-Israel on that nation’s existence.  Which is mind-boggling to me; CO is more understanding and compassionate on that issue that I am.

However, I think there is a huge voting difference between secular Jews and orthodox and/or take-their-religion seriously Jews.  I met and worked with many Jewish people in my years in academia, but the vast majority of them were secular, and voted left.  (As the vast majority of academics in liberal arts fields do.)

But the couple of seriously religious Jews I knew, as well as a majority of high-profile seriously religious Jews in our culture – I’m thinking of people like Dennis Prager and Ben Shapiro – are conservative.  Post 10/7, both of them have talked about how everybody in their synagogue will be voting GOP in November, in large part because of the way national Democrats have welcomed people like Tlaib and Omar, and actively worked against Israel’s defense since the latest Hamas genocidal attack. 

There are some exceptions of course.  Alan Dershowitz is committed to his Judaism and describes himself as a life-long Dem/liberal, but he’s excoriated the Dems over the last several years, and has hinted that he’ll vote for Trump, and definitely not for the Dems.

In any event, Que Mala’s choice of Walz was a huge, unforced error.  MN is already a blue state, and as a far-lefty like Kamala, Walz doesn’t bring any votes to the ticket that she didn’t already have wrapped up.  Plus he’s got a lot of baggage – the DUI, his support for BLM riots and open borders, etc. – that the Trump team can exploit.

Maybe worst of all, at a time when the MSM is working themselves into positions not seen since Kamala was “dating” Willie Brown to try to falsely re-make her image – she was never the border czar, or the most leftist senator, etc. – picking Walz belies all that. 

If she were really the competent centrist the MSM is pretending that she is, why would she pick a leftist Mini-he like Walz?!  

The smart money says that the election will come down to who can get the most independents and persuadable moderates, and an extremist like Walz only makes that harder for Que Mala.

So what have we learned today? 

First, electricity is our friend. 

Second, Kamala Harris is a dope, and this – her first major decision as the post-coup, selected-not-elected candidate – is a major fail. 

But I do have a suggestion for a theme song for her campaign.  As soon as I heard Walz’s name, I thought of the old folk song, “Waltzing Matilda.”  If you haven’t heard it, Tom Waits’ version – Tom Traubert’s Blues (Waltzing Matilda) – is my favorite, but there are a million of them floating around. 

I’m no songwriter, but I’ve come up with a few lines in the hope that some talented folks in CO nation might be able to improve on these.  (You might want to listen to the Waits version before reading these, just to get the rhythm.)  I give you:

Walz-ing Kamala

“A radical governor, big fan of rioters,

No one thought he’d be picked,

But Kelly was bland, and Mayor Pete might get pregnant,

And Shapiro was one of the much-hated Jews…

So… he’ll… go…

Walz-ing Kamala, Walz-ing Kamala,

He’ll go Walz-ing Kamala this fall.

And the jihadi Squad members

Ululate their favor

As BLM and antifa pass out high fives.

While moderates face-palm,

Confused and forsaken,

Wond’ring if she fell out of a coconut treeeeeee.

And why she chose to go…

Walz-ing Kamala, Walz-ing Kamala?

Walz-ing Kamala, seriously?”

Hamas delenda est!

A Tropical Storm, an Olympic Hero, and Kamala’s VP Choices (posted 8/5/24)

I’m posting this column earlier than usual because stately Simpson manor is a couple of hours into the first bands of a tropical storm coming through, and I expect that at some time overnight we’ll be losing power for at least a little while.

I know what you’re thinking: shouldn’t I be boarding up the windows and battening down the hatches and prioritizing my own survival, because if this nation loses me at this crucial juncture, America may not survive?

To which I can only say that you’re being a little bit of a Dylan Mulvaney-esque drama queen. Because if I do perish in the storm, there is at least a 45-to-55% chance that America survives without me.  And I didn’t get to where I am in the CO nation by NOT mocking leftists and providing conservative insights into current events, just because my life may be in danger.

And before you can ask me another question that could prolong this introduction, no, I don’t like to throw around the word “hero” lightly.  And I think you can complete the rest of that thought.

Okay, so I’ve got time for two topics: the rise of an Olympic hero, and Que Mala’s choice of VP.    

As regular readers know, I’ve not been a fan of this Olympics so far, because the people who run it appear to be idiots.  After mocking my Lord and Savior to kick things off, and then allowing a couple of dudes to beat the crap out of female boxers, the Olympics were just about dead to me.

Sure, I might drop in and pay a little attention, I mean, if my wife is watching or something.  Or when something hilarious happens, as when the Muslim Jew-hating judoist got his arm dislocated by a Japanese judoist, momentarily acting as God’s agent on earth.

And yes, I’m not sure what participants in judo are called.  And I’m pretty sure that it’s not “judoists.” But my level of caring is as low as AOC’s IQ, so I’m not going to spend the time to open Duckduckgo.com (not commie Google, which you should never use) and check. 

Or when the US Olympic female basketball team is unable to sell tickets because they left Caitlin Clark back in the states, resulting in the organizers having to practically give away tickets for yesterday’s game because of the anemic crowds.  Unexpectedly!

Good!  I hope the team is beaten by Gambia, or Burkina Faso, or by a bunch of judoists from Tongo who mistakenly wander out onto the court and decide to try their hand at basketball for the first time ever. 

So yeah, I have no positive reasons to watch the Olympics.   

But then my amazing wife showed me a short video of the coolest Olympian of this (or possibly any) age: the Turkish pistol-shooting guy. 

I watched the first 15 seconds of it and then insisted that she email it to me immediately.  She rolled her eyes and said, “You’re going to write about this, aren’t you?”  And I said, “How could I NOT?” 

Because really, how? 

I know what you’re thinking: Normally, when you hear “Turkish guy with a gun,” you don’t immediately jump to “feel-good story” or “my personal hero!”  Added to that, his first name is “Yusuf.” 

And that makes it even worse.  When you hear the set-up, “Let me tell you about an armed Turk named Yusuf,” your only question is, “Let me guess, his last name is al-Ghoul, and he really hates the Juden?”

But no.  Not this guy. 

By now you’ve heard about him.  He’s Yusuf Dicek

First off, I didn’t know there was a pistol competition in the Olympics.  I knew they had that weird thing where you ski for a while, and then stop and shoot a rifle, and then ski some more.  But I figured that was just something Finland came up with and snuck into the Olympics in the 30s, as a clever way to entice their young men to train for shooting a lot of Russians who would be needing shot in the coming Winter War.

But the Olympics have a pistol competition too, so good for them.   (In fact, a little more pistol shooting and a little less Christ-mocking would be my suggestion for all future olympics.)

Anyway, all of the Olympic pistolists (again: life is too short to look up names for obscure-sport details) are “decked and teched,” as they say.  (Actually no one says that.  I just made it up, but I like the way it sounds.) They’ve got coordinated and branded outfits made of high-tech fabrics, with sponsors’ names and their countries’ Olympic logo on them.  They’re using futuristic pistols that look vaguely like what Arnold’s enemies in the future used in the first Terminator.

And they’ve got headgear. Oh have they got headgear!  Stuff that you’d expect Schlomo Bond to have.  (Yes, I’m trying to make that a running joke.)

Headsets that offer ear protection, noise cancelling, hypnotic sub-sonic tone generators, and probably high-def Sirius radio.  They wear glasses that were personally made after biometric scans of the shooters’ retinas were fed into a super-computer which then fashioned each lense in a sterile lab in Switzerland, I’m guessing.

Some of the glasses come with one lense blacked out, to favor the pistolist’s strongest eye.  (I call those the “Moshe Dayans,” and they look impressive.) (And yes, FYI, “I’ll take ‘bad-ass Israeli military commanders for 1000,’ Alex.”)  

So the best prima donna pistolists on the planet are all sitting around with their entourage of coaches and technical assistants, going over their millions of dollars’ worth of gear and guns, and in walks Yusuf Dicek.  And one of the coaches said, “Did anybody order kebob?  The delivery guy is here.”

Dicek stood out in that crowd.  First off, he’s 51 years old.  Because as everyone knows, your eyesight really peaks in your early 50s!  (I’d had very good vision my whole life, but when I reached my early 40s and was taking an eye test to get my pilot’s license, I started guessing at letters on the chart, and the doc wrote some notes on my file that amounted to, “It is illegal for you to ever fly an aircraft without wearing glasses.”)

So there’s Dikec, wearing tennis shoes, a pair of what looked like Dockers, and a t-shirt with “Turkiye” on it that looked like he’d picked it up from a street vendor right outside for 2 euros.  (I later found out that that’s Turkey’s official t-shirt.  Which tells us that Turkey apparently doesn’t have a big “olympic apparel” budget.)

Instead of fancy ear protection, he had a couple of yellow foam things that I get from Lowes when I’m going to be using power tools a lot.  He also wore glasses that looked like a pair of cheaters from Wal-Mart.  (“Are you just using those for reading?  If so, a 1.5 magnification should be fine.  What’s that?  You’ll be in a shooting competition in the Olympics in a half-hour?  Better take the 2.0s”)

As the other pistolists were assuming unnatural stances that combine the posture of a yoga nut, a ballerina in the Bolshoi, and a Prussian officer in 1878 standing at attention, Dicek stepped up to the line, put one hand in his pants pocket (!) and aimed with his other hand.  

If you look up “nonchalant” in the dictionary, you’ll see a picture of this guy getting ready to shoot.  He looked as calm as some ne’er-do-well who just finished a sleeve of pot brownies knocking over a 7-11 in Bakersfield.  I wouldn’t have been surprised if he had turned the gun sideways before he started shooting, like the dumbest gang-banger in Chicago’s mostly peaceful weekend shootouts. 

So there he was, looking like a guy getting ready to try to win his wife a stuffed animal at a crooked carnival’s rigged shooting gallery.  And he started to shoot WITH BOTH EYES OPEN! 

Now almost the only shooting I’ve ever done was at pop bottles and cans with a b.b. gun, and at imaginary Nazis with a cap gun.  But even I know that when you’re zeroing in for that head shot on Hitler, you’re supposed to close your weak eye and squint like hell through your strong one. 

And as I went back to watch Dikec’s competition, I saw that sure enough, they all shoot with one eye closed.  Even the ones without the space-age Moshe Dayan glasses.

Not Dicek.  He was there to smoke hookah and shoot bullseyes.  And he was all out of hookah.   

Unfortunately, Dicek only won silver.  And the guy who won gold, standing next to him, had a ridiculous Willy Wonka-looking piece of headgear on. So Dicek definitely won on style points. 

What’s that?  The Olympics don’t award style points?

Okay, I’m out again.   

Topic 2:  Que mala’s possible VP choices. As of the middle of last week, contenders mentioned include Shapiro from PA, Bashear from KY, Mark Kelly from AZ, and Mayor Pete. 

The governors of MI and NC had reportedly been in contention earlier, but they apparently didn’t just fall out of a coconut tree, because they were smart enough to back slowly out of the room when asked about being tied to Que Mala’s political fortunes.

In the last several days, though, the field seems to have been winnowed down to Kelly and Shapiro, with the latter now being the favorite.  But I was really hoping for Mayor Pete.

Because now that he’s back from paternity leave – and who amongst us can gainsay the kind of physical toll taken on his body by not carrying a baby in his non-existent womb for nine months, and then going through many hours of pretend labor pains, following by the miracle of passing that baby through his non-existent birth canal, and don’t get him started on how he’s coping with the non-existent episiotomy stitches and unsightly non-existent stretch marks – he’s rested and ready to hit the ground running. 

While wearing his pristine first-ever pair of work boots and his hard hat that looks every bit as authentic on his pointy little head as that tanker headgear looked on Mike Dukakis.  

So why would I be rooting for him to make the ticket?  Simple: for years the Dems have been caterwauling about how toxic masculinity has been ruining American society, so I’d love for them to show the world what a presidential ticket with literally zero masculinity – toxic or otherwise – looks like.

However, as of now it looks like Pete is destined to be always the bridesmaid and never the non-child-bearing bride.

Conventional political thinking would say the Cackler should go with PA’s popular governor Shapiro, because he could conceivably nudge the crucial battleground state into the blue column in November.

But wait.  Shapiro is Jewish.  And there are a number of Dem voters – most importantly in Michigan, but also throughout the country and in congress – who are jihadi sympathizers and really hate Jews.  So smart insiders say that if Shapiro doesn’t get the nod, the most likely reason is the religious bigotry of many Democrats.  (I’m paraphrasing just a tad, for greater clarity.)

I’ve always thought that the main theological school of thought motivating the national Democrats was their religious commitment to atheist, destructive socialism.  But now it appears that the anti-Semitic tail may be wagging the Marxist dog. 

Well done, Democrats!

Hamas delenda est!

Things Wrong With the World: the Olympics, CNN, and Kamala’s Atlanta Rally (posted 8/2/24)

After my Wednesday column on good news stories, I’m afraid that today’s theme has to be “things that are wrong with the world.”

First up, the Olympics. 

The kind of international athletic competition that goes on in the Olympics is a fine idea, as are competitive sports in general.  And the Olympics have given us Hitler being humiliated when Jesse Owens won in 1936, and the US hockey team whipping the Soviets in the Miracle on Ice in 1980.  And don’t forget the anti-Semitic Muslim jerk who beat an Israeli in judo last weekend, then refused to shake hands and gave him the “finger of Tawheed,” only to get his arm dislocated in a humiliating loss to his next opponent. 

I look forward to that bigot watching the next Olympics on tv, as he sells hummus in an Allahu Snackbar food cart in Tajikistan.     

But these Olympics continue to disappoint.  Everybody knows by now about the drag queens and their mocking of DaVinci’s portrayal of the Last Supper.  Leave it to a bunch of far-left Christophobes who think of themselves as avant-garde heroes to come up with something as tired and dumb as this lame attempt at blasphemy.

These people are the reason why the French came up with the word “douche.”

We also know about the foolishness of trying to have swimming events in the Seine river, which is turns out is as clean as a rapper’s lyrics, and as toxic as a racist Joy Reid monologue. 

But the nadir of this Olympics so far is the authorities allowing a male to box against women.  Though there’s apparently some controversy over whether Algerian boxer Imane Khelif is really a man, he “failed a gender test” and was banned from an international boxing tournament in 2023, and reportedly has a Y chromosome.

So as Austin Powers might put it, “He’s a MAN, baby!”   

He pummeled his actual female opponent, breaking her nose and forcing her to give up her Olympic dream by quitting after 46 seconds, before she suffered any life-altering injuries.

Unexpectedly! 

If there are any women on the committee who decided to let males box against females, they should be forced to fist fight a random male their size.  And then pay for their own nose jobs.  And any men on the committee should be forced to fist fight a random male about three weight classes bigger than them.  After which Khelif should be forced to fight in the same weight class against a male Olympian.

Then he can share an ambulance with the one-armed Jew-hating judo star from Tajikistan.

Next up, this week’s much-deserved killing of Hamas bigshot Ismail Haniyeh was great news, and the method the Israelis used to pull it off is even better: they planted some kind of explosive in the apartment where he was staying several months ago, and then detonated it remotely.  Which sounds like the work of one bad-ass Hebrew secret agent.  (“The name is Bond.  Schlomo Bond.”)

I love the idea that every terrorist in Tehran, Beirut and Gaza is now completely paranoid, slowly and tentatively opening every drawer, sitting down on every couch, and lifting every toilet lid, with a wincing expression and a racing heartbeat, wondering if the Mossad has left a surprise for them in whatever “safe” house they’re in.

But from the “We Don’t Hate the Media Enough” file comes more evidence of why we can’t have nice things.  Because an authentic CNN report, which I swear I am not making up, by real-life CNN reporter Nic (“rhymes with…”) Robertson actually said that the killing of Ismail “means that his moderate voice is off the table.” 

Moderate voice! 

He was one of the leaders of terrorist Hamas.  There is video showing him celebrating the news of the October 7th massacres of Jewish civilians, and he was such a psychopath that in video of the moment when he was told that his three sons and four grandkids were killed in an airstrike, he responded with complete indifference.

THAT guy is a “moderate,” CNN?

Well, at least CNN got one thing right.  That moderate is off the table. 

But on the walls, and the ceiling, and on the floor, and smeared down the hallway…

However, the one event this week that most clearly demonstrated everything that is wrong in the world was Que Mala’s disgusting “rally” in Atlanta. 

Of course the political speech she gave was 99% dishonest – the 1% true part was when she said she wants abortion right up until the 23rd trimester, when the “threat to women’s health care” gets on the bus for the first day of kindergarten. 

But that wasn’t the worst part.  Which is saying something.

As many observers noticed, Kamala went full Cankles McPantsuit on Atlantans, falling into a Southern accent so over-the-top fake that it would make Foghorn Leghorn blush.  (“Hello Atlanta!  Ah say, ah say, hello out dere!  Greetin’s and salutations, boy!”) 

And the Hillary comparisons fell upon the crowd like gentle, acid rain. 

But that wasn’t the worst part either. Which is REALLY saying something.

Because her “warm up the crowd” opening act was “Megan thee Stallion.” (Rumors that she got her rap name from the fact that her hindquarters look like something that should be carrying a fully-armored medieval knight into combat are unconfirmed. But the smart money does NOT say “naaaaay.”)

She performed a “song” called “Ode to Joy,” accompanied by some background twerkers.  The lyrics were oddly truncated, with her chanting a line, then staying silent for a few seconds, before chanting out the next line. 

Oh wait.  When I researched the song, I found that it wasn’t actually titled “Ode to Joy.”  It’s called “Body,” and it may have been chosen because that is one of the few titles of her “songs” that can be printed without many asterisks.  (Sample lyrics: “Body ody ody ody ody ody ody ody ody ody ody ody ody ody ody.” Then repeat.  Then “mwah!”  And that was the best part!)

Because I constantly sacrifice for CO nation, I looked up the video for that “song” and watched it.  And I can’t stress this enough: don’t do that yourself!  I took one for the team by doing so, and I swear that I am now a slightly less hilarious genius than beforehand, because that thing is an IQ-point-shaving-off train wreck.

Fun fact I learned, though: You may have thought that nobody can use the “n” word in public anymore without receiving harsh condemnation, but you don’t know how wrong you are.  Because if the person machine-gunning through a filthy, racist screed is a dysfunctional personality who can set it to a thundering bass line, it is a ticket to becoming a multi-millionaire, feted by the low-IQ left who pretend to dislike racism.    

But I did confirm what I expected: all of the silent spots in her “performance” were deletions of lyrics too filthy for a public event of any type, let alone a political rally for a major party candidate who wants to lead our m****r ****ing nation, y’all!

Ugh!  You see what I’ve done?  I think I might have sustained some serious frontal-lobe damage, just from watching that video.  Pardon me as I stop writing this column to spend four straight hours listening to Mozart, Bach and Johnny Cash, in a desperate attempt to re-establish some neural connections before the impact becomes irreversible.

Okay, I’m back.  I’m still a little woozy, as if I ain’t seen the sunshine since I don’t know when.  But I feel a little better.  Except that I can’t unsee that horrific Kamala Harris speech.  And that’s what tortures me.  

Seriously though.  There is something badly wrong with a quasi-black female candidate who would willingly appear after a “performance” by someone presenting such a vulgar, sexualized and racially offensive depiction of black women.  If the KKK (an organization born and run by Democrats who were angry that we’d whipped them and freed their slaves) tried to come up with a super-demeaning depiction of black people, they couldn’t do a better job of it than Megan Thee Stallion just did.

And it makes staying optimistic tougher when I think that young black people who could be reading Thomas Sowell, watching Denzel Washington, and looking up to Ayaan Hirsi Ali or Clarence Thomas are instead spending their money and time on a debased vulgarian whose primary appeal is having a derriere as large as the great outdoors.  Yikes.

Okay.  I can’t send you off into the weekend with that grim image.  So here’s a last little feel-good story about a purported Al Jazeera “Palestinian” “journalist who did an amazing Ismail Haniyeh impression on Wednesday.  That is to say he got hit by an IDF airstrike, and thus joined all of the other “moderate voices” who are now “off the table.”

CAIR and other terror-supporting organizations immediately began caterwauling about how the evil Jews are killing innocent journalists!  What could ever justify this kind of barbarity?!

Then… “three hours lay-tair” …evidence comes out that, just like many “journalists” before him, this guy was a long-time Hamas propagandist and terror participant.  He reportedly participated in the October 7th  attacks, and continually produced “journalism” comparing Israel to a disease.  On 10/7 he was so excited that he posted “our children will play with their heads.”   

What a sweetheart. 

My favorite part of this story – other than him being “off the table” – is his name.

 I don’t know his pronouns, but I know that his verbs are now “was” and “were,” and that his first name was “Ismail.”   And it was a tough week for Jew-haters named “Ismail” over there.

His last name – you can’t make this up – was “al-Ghoul.”

Perfect!

Have a good weekend everybody, and remember…

Hamas delenda est!

Feel-Good Stories: Bibi kills it, DEI Struggles, Israel Takes Out Some Bad Guys (posted 7/31/24)

Our politics lately is so full of knaves, grifters, pathological liars and fake Indians (#wemustneverstopmockingher) that following it can dent the optimism of even the best of us.  Mocking the bad guys takes some of the edge off of that for me, but it also helps to focus on the many positive stories that are happening all the time, too.

Here are a few of those stories from the last couple of weeks:

Bibi Netanyahu’s speech to our congress last week was moving and inspiring, and perfectly emblematic of the courage of a people who gave us the story of David and Goliath.  After the atrocities of October 7th, the Israelis have made great sacrifices to minimize their enemies’ civilian deaths as they wage a war every bit as righteous as our fight against the Nazis and Japanese in WWII. 

And for that they’ve been slandered and lectured by leftists — in the press, in the UN, and in much of the West generally.  They’ve endured condemnation for responding “disproportionately,” and have been told that they must unilaterally cease fire, leaving their hostages in slavery and Hamas terrorists in control in Gaza. 

And then when Netanyahu comes to address the congress of his great ally, the president and VP and around 50 Democrats shun him and boycott his speech.  And the one anti-Semite who does show up is Rashida Tlaib, sufferer of the worst case of “resting jihadi face” in the world!  And the slogans on the stupid little ping pong paddle sign she was holding up were as tough to look at as she is.

And still Bibi was able to give that speech.  If you didn’t watch it yet, you should.  He pointed out and honored some of the battle-scarred Israeli heroes, and the young woman hostage who was rescued by the IDF and reunited with her dying mother, who feared that she would never see her again. 

The kind of moral clarity he displayed is bracing, and its virtue even more impressive when contrasted with the shameful reactions of many of our pitiful elected Democrats.  I love knowing that when a nation is threatened by evil enemies, there are still brave citizens around who will rally to their country’s defense.   

In other good news, we appear to be winning many battles in the culture war. 

Just a few short years ago, the defund the police movement was sweeping across our nation, and DEI propaganda was a dominant force in academia and in most of the corporate world.  But now the “defund the police” mobs have been routed nearly everywhere, including even in deep-blue states and cities, and you can’t find a nationally important Democrat who supports that disproven and delusional cause.   

DEI is just as clearly in retreat, too.  Universities in several states – Florida, of course, and most recently Alabama, among many others – have gotten rid of their DEI emphasis and are dismantling their DEI departments and terminating or reassigning their DEI employees.  In the leftist enclaves of the universities, this is a nearly miraculous development!

Within just the last month, giant corporations including Tractor Supply, John Deere and Microsoft have also all explicitly renounced DEI.  The latter used some sweet corporate-speak to announce the falling axe, with euphemistic phrases such as “[DEI programs] are no longer business critical or smart as they were in 2020.” 

In a perfect world, they would admit that such policies were NEVER smart, and they sure as hell were never “business critical!”  But a win is still a win.

Tractor Supply and John Deere were even more blunt, admitting that they’d screwed up their priorities and insulted their customers, then apologized, and then laid out the specific steps they were taking to completely eliminate DEI from their operations.

The fact that companies like that – whose products are bought disproportionately by straight males with a Liz Warren-esque complexion – had been putting their employees through idiotic diversity training and racial struggle sessions in the first place shows how far the DEI rot had spread!

I was raised in Midwestern farm country, and I never heard a farmer, grain elevator worker, or farm equipment salesman involved in a heated discussion of pronouns.  No fights in a detassling crew ever included the words, “You’re gonna acknowledge your privilege right now, or I’m gonna whip your arse!”   

In fact, no detassler on his first day of work ever challenged a farmer by saying, “You’re telling me to pull the tassles out of the plant because that’s the male part.  But what if that corn stalk doesn’t identify as male?  Won’t misgendering the crops make the harvest inedible?”

Even prominent Democrat pols now implicitly acknowledge the danger that DEI poses to their plans, by trying to defend the concept while simultaneously denying that it has influenced any of their candidates. 

When MSM talking heads howl that it is horribly racist to say that DEI is responsible for Ketanji Jackson being on SCOTUS or Que Mala being their candidate – even though Biden openly said he was making a DEI pick in both cases, by choosing only from among black females for those positions – they give the game away. 

Being called a DEI hire is now clearly recognized as an insult, and that’s a good sign for our culture.

Finally, to prove the main point of this column, as I was finishing it I was interrupted by the news that Israel has just given a big ol’ “ballistic Shalom” to top Hezbollah commander Fuad Shukr. 

(Have you noticed how the names of these terrorists often sound like insults?  “You’re nothing but a damn Shukr!  Why don’t you go fuad yourself?”)

On Saturday, Shukr masterminded the Hezbollah missile strike on a soccer field in Israel, killing 12 Druze children.  And I’m sure that made him feel like a bad-arse jihadi warrior, bravely taking on those soccer-playing kids from the safety of his home in Beirut.

Annnnnndddddd cue the transition card and the French-accented voice-over from Sponge Bob:  “Three days lay-ter…”

…an Israeli drone flew over Shukr’s shack and fired three missiles that collapsed the building on his evil head, before shooting some video of the chaos and then flying away, pumping out a couple of jaunty verses of “Hava Nagila” as it departed.

(Yes, I love the scene in Apocalypse Now where Duvall leads the helicopter attack while they’re playing “Ride of the Valkyries” to frighten the Viet Cong.  And I love the idea of Israeli fighter jets or drones screaming in low over terrorist bases while blasting a shofar.)

And THEN, as I was putting a few final touches on this column – “ballistic shalom” doesn’t just pop into your head on a first draft, people – I was preparing to post this at around 3:30 a.m.  Because I never stop working for CO nation. 

Does that mean you should hit my tip jar at Martinsimpsonwriting.com? 

Probably.

Where was I? 

Oh yeah.  Just before I posted, I took a quick look through the headlines and saw “Israel Takes Out Top Terrorist in Air Strike in Iran.” 

I started to move on, until I remembered that Fuad achieved room temperature in Beirut.  What’s this about Iran?

So I read the article, and lo and behold, the Israelis got a two-fer within 12 hours, taking out an even bigger terrorist piece of merde, Hamas chief Ismail Haniyeh not long after he arrived in Tehran.  There is no info yet on how they killed him, but I bet the details are hilarious.

It’s been a tough stretch for terrorist scumbags lately.  Most of Hamas’ fighters are either dead or cowering in tunnels and pooping in buckets.  Then Iran’s leader decides to take a ride in the mountains on a rickety helicopter and turns into hummus on a hillside.  Then the Iranians pick a new top weird beard, and Ismail comes to town for the big celebration, and…

Like I said, there are a lot of great things going on, if you just look for them.

Defund the police is dead, DEI is dying, Fuad is flattened and Ismail got Is-nailed.        

Say it with me, CO nation…

Hamas delenda est!

The MSM Tries to Cover for Kamala, Schumer Beclowns Himself, & Karma Gets An Anti-Semitic Olympian (posted 7/29/24)

Once again trying to keep up with the news last week was like trying to drink from a firehose. 

I know what you’re thinking: “If we didn’t know what a refined gentleman Martin is, that sounds like a setup for a hilarious Willie Brown joke.”  And maybe it is.  But as you know, that kind of thing is beneath me.  So let’s not act like children, people.

By the way, I just re-watched the two-minute clip from the debate when Trump and Biden talked about golf.  And for the rest of my life, whenever I’m feeling a little down, I will watch that clip and feel the healing balm of laughter.    

Trump’s advisors had obviously coached him up to not over-reacting or show too much irritation, and he did a pretty good job of maintaining a poker face throughout.  But the one thing that put him over the edge was hearing Biden say that he was a 6 handicap.

Trump’s expression – groaning and turning his head away – was comedy gold, followed immediately by Biden changing his handicap to an 8, while Trump shook his head and sarcastically said, “Yeah.  Never.” 

Then Trump gave the coup de grace: “I’ve seen your swing, Joe.  Let’s not act like children.”

I’ve used that line half a dozen times in the last month, including in a friendly argument with my wife.  She was reminding me that I’d promised to give Cassie the Wonder Dog a bath, and that she was not smelling so great.  Technically, she was right, but I could see that Cassie was offended.

So I said, “Honey, I’ve seen your swing.  Let’s not act like children.”  And it worked perfectly.  Karen was completely confused, and I laughed and put out my fist, and Cassie gave me a paw bump and trotted out of the room at my side. 

That’s the closest I’ve come in 35 years to winning a marital argument.  So thank you, President Trump.

Anyway, the Obamas endorsed Kamala on Friday, so now the die has been cast, the Rubicon has been crossed, and the pooch has been screwed.  

I don’t think that even the Democrat party could flip-flop again if her numbers go south, and try to switch in a new candidate at the convention.  So we can all now officially train our fire on Que Mala.  (By which I mean, we can all now tell the truth about her.)

We still need to stay focused, because she starts with an enormous propaganda machine and a mountain of cash in her corner, and the MSM will lie to sell her as outrageously as they lied to sell Biden.  But between her own awkward incompetence and being saddled with Biden’s terrible record, she is clearly beatable. 

In the meantime, her “honeymoon” is providing some dark humor, as we watch the MSM beclown themselves with one blatant lie after another: 

“She wasn’t a DEI pick!” (Even though Biden himself said that she was.)

“She wasn’t the border czar!”  (Even though we can post dozens of MSM headlines saying she was, and we can watch the séance with Joe Biden when he gave her the responsibility for the border.) 

“She’s an exciting, dynamic leader, who has earned her way to the top!”  (<cough> Willie Brown <cough>)

The best and cringiest moment came from poor Chuck Schumer – a hollowed-out husk of a man at this point, though I’m not sure that he was ever much more than that – rolling out her announcement.

In a performance worthy of a “Worst Actor in a Political Farce” nomination, Schumer mimicked enthusiasm, while reading a groan-worthy and unconvincing script, which I swear I am not making up:

“President Biden’s selfless decision has given the Democratic Party the opportunity to unite behind a new nominee.  (Here he began pumping his fists very unconvincingly.) And boy oh boy, are we enthusiastic!” 

Yes.  Biden’s “selfless” “decision.”  You know, like when the Godfather had Luca Brasi hold a gun to that band leader’s head and told him that either his brains or his signature would be on the contract. 

And the bandleader said, “I have selflessly decided to sign this contract.”

Also, nobody in all of human history who was actually enthusiastic has ever had to say, “Boy oh boy, are we enthusiastic!”

Then Schumer said, “So now that the process has played out from the grassroots bottom up…”

Yes.  Because nothing says “grassroots, bottom-up campaign” like a political puppet having a series of closed-door meetings with party bosses and big donors over 36 hours and then emerging as “the people’s choice!”  

“…we are here today to throw our support being Vice President KAMALA HARRIS!” 

And then he actually clapped.  All by himself.  In a room presumably full of Dem party hacks and journalists.  (But I repeat myself.)

After an excruciating several seconds of sad, one-man applause, Schumer dropped his hands and acknowledged the toxic-level of cringe, saying, “I’m clapping.  You don’t have to.”  When the crowd laughed at Schumer’s awkwardness, he finally said, “It’s a happy day.  What can I say?”

How about, “Please accept my deepest apologies for the mortifyingly dishonest kabuki theater I’ve just engaged in.  I’ve shamed myself, my party, and my family.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I will retire from public life forever.” 

But nope.  He just stood there in a room full of spineless sycophants, who couldn’t even bring themselves to sycophant. 

I wish I could have been there, because you know what I would have called out. “We’ve seen your candidate, Chuck.  Let’s not act like children!”

But Schumer had still not hit rock bottom, because two minutes later, before turning the microphone over to Hakeem Jeffries, he made one more attempt to use some flailing arm gestures and faux-rousing rhetoric to elicit some reaction from a captive audience who appeared to be as dead as Joe Biden:

“Today…we begin our next chapter, and it will be our best yet!  Vice President Harris will beat Donald Trump, and [awkward fist pumping with each emphatic word] Become. The. Next. President. Of. The. United. States. Of. America!”

Then he actually looking pleadingly toward the first row, waving his hand back and forth, and plaintively saying, “Applause?”  When not a single person responded, he quickly said, “Hakeem,” and stepped aside, looking like the picture you’d see in a dictionary beside the words, “flop sweat.”   

Ouch!  Tough room, Chuck!

If this bunch of lackeys and sell-outs can’t even be tased into some fake applause, the next four months are going to be entertaining.

There are a lot of good-news stories that I wanted to talk about, but this column is already getting a little long, so I’ll save those for a Wednesday column, and choose just one schadenfreude-tastic story to end with.

This one happened at the Olympics, where a Muslim athlete from Tajikistan named Emomali was matched against an Israeli in a judo competition.  And you’ll never believe it, but the Muslim was a big a-hole to the Jewish guy.

Unexpectedly!

Emomali won the match, and afterward he snubbed the protocol of shaking the Israeli’s hand. Instead, he stalked off, saying, “Allahu Akbar” and giving the Islamic “finger of Tawheed” gesture, which is making a fist with only the index finger raised, symbolizing the Islamic belief that, “There is no God but Allah, and Muhammad is his prophet.” 

And then, because God exists, and He is hilarious, Emomali next faced a Japanese guy, who picked him up and slammed him backwards onto the mat.  When Emomali reached his left arm out to try to break his fall, it bent in a direction it wasn’t supposed to, leaving it dislocated, and Emomali crying in pain on the mat.

I couldn’t help but think of Shane Gillis’ hilarious impression of Trump’s news conference announcing the death of Abu Bakr Al-Baghdadi: “We could hear him crying.  I said, Abu, don’t cry.  ‘Crybaby Baghdadi,’ that’s what we were all calling him.”

Meanwhile, Emomali’s defeated Israeli opponent advanced to the next round, because the Algerian Muslim who had been scheduled to fight him forfeited the match, rather than compete against a Jew.  (Unexpectedly.)     

If I could go back in time and see only one Olympic event, it would have to be Emomali doing his impression of a backward-bending chicken leg on the mat. 

Oh no, wait.  I’d go to the 1976 Olympics, and find Bruce Jenner, and say, “Bruce, I’m from the future, and I’ve got to warn you about a terrible, terrible decision you’re going to make in about 40 years!”

But if I could go back in time and see two Olympics, my second choice would be to pop back to this weekend to see Emomali going, “Allahu Ak-OW! OW! OW!”

And as he was being taken off on a stretcher, I’d show him the “Finger of Simpson,” which is very similar to the “Finger of Tawheed.”

Except that it does not involve the index finger.

Then I’d say…

Hamas delenda est!

For One Shining Moment, the Press Does their Job… and a Dem Prez Instantly Falls (posted 7/26/24)

Well, tomorrow will be one month since the most decisive debate since Lincoln-Douglas. 

Before anyone accuses me of exaggeration – you might think that we all remember Lincoln as the guy who beat the Democrats and freed their slaves, while Douglas has faded from history – I have to point out that Douglas was able to complete a series of debates during which he spoke for many hours without worrying audiences that he had shuffled off this mortal coil.

Joe Biden STARTED the debate by shuffling into the room in a manner that suggested he may have left his mortal coil in the green room.  From there he didn’t just make some gaffes, or have some bad moments, or lose badly.

He was so metaphysically awful that after 90 minutes, the entire nation decided that he cannot run for president anymore.  That, my friends, is one terrible debate performance.

We’ve learned many things in the last, tumultuous month: A cognitively disabled man can be president for three and a half years.  A gentle, 3-degree slope on a roof makes it impossible for a secret service agent to get onto it.   No matter what you may have heard, Que Mala was NOT the Border Czar.  (I guess because technically she was the “Border Czarina?” Gendered Russian grammar for the win!)

But for me, the most eye-opening experience was getting just a brief glimpse of what our political landscape would look like if the press actually did their job on a regular basis.  Because holy moly, did they ever destroy Joey Gaffes in record time! 

And they didn’t do it via dirty tricks or biased coverage.  They simply started telling the truth and asking tough but fair questions.  For a couple of weeks!  And Biden’s 120-year career in politics was over, just like that.

Can you imagine if the MSM had done that to Bill Clinton?  “We’ve noticed that despite the fact that you’re a huge feminist hero, every intern who walks out of your office either has mussed up hair, messed up lipstick, or is rubbing her rear end.  What’s up with that?  Also, you clearly perjured yourself under oath, and since losing your law license over that means that you’ve been declared too unethical to be a lawyer – who knew there was such a thing? – how are you ethical enough to be a president?”

Or Hillary Clinton?  “We’re going to doggedly stay on your Rose Law Firm scandal and your impossibly successful cattle trading returns until we get to the bottom of them.  (We’ve noticed that your only even tangential connection to cattle is that you both have cloven hooves.) Also, your setting up a secret server and calling a meeting at which you ordered your minions to smash all of their Blackberries with hammers only makes sense as evidence of your staggering corruption and devotion to evading responsibility for blatantly illegal actions, and we’re going to expose those completely.”

Or Barack Obama?  “How could you listen to Jeremiah Wright’s whitey-hating, anti-American sermons for 20 years – and take the title of your first autobiography (which you definitely did not write yourself) from one of those racist screeds – and not notice what a malevolent loon he obviously is?  Also, wasn’t setting up a fake Greek Temple in Denver to give a speech from, and then claiming that your getting the nomination was ‘the moment when the rise of the oceans began to slow, and our planet began to heal’ super narcissistic?”

“And by the way, you never met your African dad until adulthood, and were raised by your white mom and white grandparents in Kansas, Indonesia and Hawaii, surrounded by white people, Hawaiians and Indonesians.  Doesn’t that make you about as culturally black as Liz Warren is ethnically red?”  (#wemustneverstopmockingher)

Years ago I remember reading a pollster’s estimate that one-sided leftist bias in MSM campaign coverage produces an approximate 8-to-10-point swing favoring Democratic presidential candidates, and that’s always seemed about right.  But the last month has proved it beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Remember: with the MSM covering for Joe Biden, he had 36 years in the US Senate, 8 years as Vice President, and one term as President.  But when the media turned on him and started reporting honestly, he was forced out of politics in a fortnight!

Which brings us to Biden’s unsatisfying speech on Wednesday night.

Not counting the aforementioned sudden bout of media honesty, there were only three, obviously true reasons why Biden stepped down.   And spoiler alert: Biden and all national Dems are allergic to obvious truths (see: men can’t be women; Hunter’s laptop was Hunter’s laptop; the border is not secure, etc.). 

So guess who avoided those true reasons like a Jewish vegan avoiding a pork chop wrapped in bacon?

The first two true reasons are: 1. Joe’s been cognitively and physically deteriorating at a frightening rate, and 2. Polls show that he was going to lose badly to Trump. 

We all know that the Democrat elite didn’t give a damn about the first one, because they’ve known about it for years.  They ran Joe in 2020 primarily by keeping him in his basement, for crying out loud.  And everyone who had never been within ten miles of Biden still knew that he was cognitively challenged – comedians were doing accurate impressions of his shuffling and mumbling, and there were ubiquitous internet “greatest gaffes” compilations of his addled and awkward bumblings back in 2019.

Yet somehow Biden insiders – from his sapphic Kewpie-doll spokeswoman to his cabinet officials to his own family – claim that they had no idea of the infirmity that even primitive tribesmen living as remotely as the cannibals who ate ol’ Uncle Appetizer Biden knew about!  

So the Dem elite clearly knew about his manifest infirmities and unfitness to serve, and they just as clearly didn’t care.   But they definitely cared about the second factor – his likely defeat by Trump – because they are power-hungry, soulless Machiavellians who would sell their own mothers into Willie Brown’s harem to retain their power.

So Joe had a tough task in his Wednesday night “speech.”  He had to explain a momentous decision that had only three possible explanations – I can’t control my thoughts or my bowels; I was going to get my butt kicked by Orange Hitler; or my fellow Dems are a bunch of faithless snakes who went all “et tu, Brute?” on my wrinkly old arse – without actually admitting any of those obvious truths.

He did about as well as he could with that… which was not so much.

He basically gave a stump speech about what a great president he was, touting all of his made-up accomplishments (“I lowered drug prices! I beat Medicare! I took a shot of cancer to the moon!”), taking credit for the inevitable economic improvements after the artificially imposed covid recession, and ignoring everything he actually did.

So it’s no wonder that his speech made no sense.  His message boiled down to, “I’ve been such a tremendous, super-successful president… that the best thing I can do for my party and the country is to get out of the race.”

What better way was there for Joe Biden to go out?  After starting his long, incoherence-filled political career in 1973, he left on one final note of complete incoherence.

Well done, Joe.  Please accept this final poem, composed in your honor, from Dylan Thomas, me, and all of CO nation:

Do not go gentle into that political night,

Old age should slur and stutter at close of campaign;

Rage, rage, against Obama and Que Mala!

Hamas delenda est!

I Can’t Believe What the Dems Are Doing with Kamala (posted 7/24/24)

I’ve been lied to.  

Because I’ve been told that our tech overlords know everything about us, and that they’re spying on us through our cellphones, and maybe our fridges, and possibly our toasters. You can’t so much as mention that a certain Democrat pol has a ten-cent head and a juicy booty – her words, not mine (I mean, the juicy booty part.  I figured out that she’s got a ten-cent head all on my own, when she started to talk) – without your phone and computer being bombarded with pics of a Kardashian.

Or Emily Ratajkowski, whom I don’t even know.  (Well, I know NOW.)       

Anyway, those shadowy tech wizards are supposedly curating our entire lives, and feeding us only info that we already agree with or want to receive.

And yet I’ve already received two fund-raising ads in my feed just today, both of them from Que Mala Harris!  So I’ve definitely been lied to about our tech eavesdroppers’ ability to read our minds, because I’ve got to be the least likely person in this solar system to contribute to the campaign of Little Miss Cackle-nator.

However, it was fun to watch her ad, if only to imagine how many takes it took to finish it, and what her first take must have sounded like. 

“For only ten dollars, you can make a difference in getting me elected.  Just ten dollars.  Which is an amount of dollars. Ah-Ha-Ha-Ha-Ha HA!  Right?  Each dollar can be exchanged for a dollar’s worth of goods or services.  Goods like electric school buses, and power points full of Venn diagrams.  Ah-Ha-Ha-Ha-Ha HA!  And services like hiring a bunch of child actors to sit around and listen to my blathering about space and the moon, and act like I’m saying something substantive.

Anyway, your 10 dollars – a number that is not as big as Russia, or as small as Ukraine, and comes somewhere in between 9 and 11, which are also very numerical terms, right? (cackle cackle cackle) – can make a difference in November.  Which is the 11th month of the year, and one more month than the amount of dollars that I am asking you to send.”

I’m thinking that that’s the part of the first take when several of the tech crew loudly face-palmed themselves, one Dem pollster vomited on his shoes, another sat down mumbling, “We are beyond f**ked,” and the director yelled, “Cut!  Is Joe still around here somewhere?”

You might be asking, “Martin, I thought you asked us yesterday not to criticize or make fun of Que Mala until after the Dem convention, when she would presumably be locked in as the nominee?  And yet now here you are, eviscerating her in the hilariously genius-like way that we’ve all come to know and love.  What gives?”

Well, for some idiotic reason known only to God – you may remember Him as the Guy who moved Trump’s head out of the way of that bullet – the Dems seemed to have fallen in line behind Harris.  (And no, this is not the time for a Willie Brown joke.  In the words of a great future president, “Let’s not be children.”)

I really don’t get it.  The smart thing would have been for them to say a lot of supportive comments about Kamala (as honest as all the things they were saying about Biden being vigorous and super compos mentis 10 minutes ago), but leave the door open for a nomination battle at their convention. 

Then, after three weeks of Kamala assuming the role of president-in-waiting and making public appearances everywhere, they could see what her polls looked like.  And if the polls look like we all pretty much know they will, the Dem power brokers could rig the convention to put someone else in place.  

That’s what I thought they would do, when I noted 24 hours ago that some big leftist names were splitting into two camps re: whether Kamala should get the nod.

I guess they could still do that. But they are all signing off on her candidacy now, which will make them look much more bumbling and desperate if they reverse themselves again, after they crowned her as the nominee a day after Joe shuffled off his mortal coil, wearing his big ol’ waffle-stomper, shufflin’ shoes. 

Seriously.  They lied about what great shape Joe was in for four years, then he exposed them by breathing his last breath during the debate.  So then they jump on the Kamala bandwagon – and again I must remind you that I am far too dignified to make the Willie Brown joke that we’re all thinking of right now – and when her poll numbers look as bad as Joey Gaffes’, they’re going to push her aside and sub in ANOTHER Dem politician?!

Does that process – bailing from Plan A to Plan B and then to Plan C in a few weeks – suggest stability and competence on the left?  Or does it look like the live re-enactment of the old joke about four guys in a plane that’s going down because it’s overloaded?

(You may remember it from the pub scene in American Werewolf in London: When they realize that somebody needs to jump out to save the rest, the Brit says, “God save the Queen!” and jumps.  When the plane is still too heavy, the Frenchman says, “Vive la France!” and jumps.  When that doesn’t help, the Texan says, “Remember the Alamo!”… and chucks out the Mexican.)

But it looks like the Dems are going with her, so what do I know?  Still, just to be safe, if any of you are contacted by a pollster in the next three or four weeks, please say that you’re all-in for Harris, and you give her five stars, or two enthusiastic thumbs up, or multiple bedazzled Venn diagrams.  Whatever it takes.

By the way, it’s a huge red flag that her first official act – for the last time, I’m not talking about THAT “act” with Willie Brown, so get your minds out of the gutter – was deciding to snub Bibi Netanyahu.  That’s going to play well in Dearborn, with the ululating, “death to America” crowd, and with the Squad/jihadi caucus in the House, but elsewhere? 

Great job, Que Mala.    

Big Biden donor John Morgan might have said it best – by the way, hang your head in shame for giving that decrepit grifter money, John – when he claimed that, “Joe’s endorsement of Kamala is his f**k you to all who pushed him out. Be careful what you wish for.”  

If that’s true, I’ve got to say something that I never thought I would, seriously and without my tongue in my cheek: Great job, Joe! That’s a sweet move on your way out the door, because it gives all the lying hypocrites who stabbed you in the back a perfect dose of karmic justice. 

Don’t get me wrong, Joe: you’re all a bunch of political scorpions in an identity-politics bottle, and you all deserve each other, and the electoral disaster that I pray is about to descend upon your party.  Still, why should the rest of those rats be able to escape from the sinking ship they just tossed you off? 

But look at the bright side.  When Trump debates Que Mala and she opens up a whole word salad bar, you will be able to enjoy watching him re-use one of the lines that helped end your campaign: “I really don’t know what [she] said at the end of that sentence.  I don’t think [she] knows what [she] said either.”     

Hamas delenda est!