As we get closer to the
total eclipse of the sun on Monday, things are getting increasingly weird.
As you’d expect, tbh.
If you’d like a for
example, here’s an advert (probably from Craigslist) for a, well, take a look:
The woman who posted it
on Twitter was wondering whether she should toss her, erm, hat into the ring:
But it turns that she
doesn’t meet the cats requirement, which appears to be a deal-breaker.
But here’s what I was
wondering on my Metro ride home: what, exactly, is the feline involvement meant
to be in this act of cosmic whatever? Is this something PETA should be aware
of? And how does the nitrous oxide figure into it?
Well, I wonder, but I’m
not going to inquire. Not sure I want to see the response.
You owe it to yourself
to read it, with the annotations, and
the comments on the annotations. I do not know the person with the handle
BarbWire, but I would be proud to buy him/her a beverage of his/her choice, anytime,
anywhere.
Another interesting thing about said train wreck was this shot of Klepto's current chief of staff John F. Kelly and a couple of aides watching his performance.
Remember that Kelly is a career Marine, and consider what it takes for a retired USMC general to slump like that. Also, the two men at the right appear to be calling upon the Almighty to deliver them from this abomination.
But further to my point yesterday about him being a foot-stamping hissy-throwing pouty-face loser—here’s his
response to CEOs bailing out of his advisory council on CEO stuff:
Yes, he’s taking his
tiny balls and going home..
(This is a turnaround from his response 24 hours earlier, when they first started streaming out:)
And actually, apparently the Kleptocrat just said he's closing down his CEO clubs. But in fact the remaining CEOs notified him that they were disbanding, so he's taking credit for it. 25th
Amendment, folks. Time for the 25th.
Because when the
Kleptocrat’s grudging reading of a statement Monday condemning the racist
neo-Nazis’ violence in Charlottesville over the weekend did not bring the
adulation he thought he was due, he first tweeted his pique:
And you know what? I
can’t even. It’s not just the complete cognitive dissonance in his imaginary
both-sides-were-equally-at-fault, or the obvious anger that being president isn’t
as much fun as he thought it was
going to be. This sad, ridiculous, pouty, racist loser has access to the finest
nuclear arsenal ever amassed, and he’s entirely capable of ordering a strike on
Pyongyang, Caracas or the Washington Post
just because it occurs to him that he can and we can’t.
There is not one single redeeming quality in his entire makeup.
Today I am sick of
Nazis, white supremacists and their ilk, inside the White House and all over
the country, so I’m taking a little break, via this play on words and software
development:
(The angry white racist to the right, Peter Cvjetanovic, 20, a student at the University of Nevada, Reno, has since told media repeatedly that he's not an angry, shouting white racist, but a white supremacist who "as a white nationalist, [he cares] about all people."
Underlying their outrage is the Make-America-White-Again Weltanschauung that life is a pie, and that any part of that pie that goes to someone else means less for themselves. They waved Confederate
and Nazi flags proudly, apparently unaware of the irony that the last flags raised by both Confederates and Nazis were white, and represented
unconditional surrender.
Anti-racist protestors
showed up carrying hand-made signs.
So, when violence broke
out, including the ramming of chanting, sign-carrying anti-fascist marchers by
a car, killing Heather Heyer, 32, and injuring many others…
…what would a reasonable
observer conclude about where responsibility lies? On “many sides”?
(At the time of writing, there are three dead: Heyer, killed by the car driven by James Alex Fields, Jr., and two Virginia State Troopers, whose helicopter crashed into trees near the city on Saturday afternoon.) Also: if a few hundred non-white
people showed up—just showed up, not
carrying weapons of any kind—in any city in the nation, what are the odds that
police forces from multiple jurisdictions would have been deployed to arrest
them at the slightest misstep (“Littering, Joe—they’re tossing their gum
wrappers in our streets! Round ‘em
up.”), probably before they’d got a couple of hundred yards?
Assuming they were even
granted a parade permit.
So, why were
Charlottesville (and Albemarle County) cops so notable by their absence?
Starting with the tiki-torchlight parade-and-rally Friday night, and into the
appalling events of Saturday—what, exactly, were they doing? (Virginia governor Terry McAuliffe has since defended the [non-]actions of the police by saying they were outgunned by the Nazis. Which is a load of crap. Outgunned, assuredly, but why? You knew these thugs were coming, and you knew they would be armed to the teeth. Have you never heard of preparing? Badly done, Virginia. Badly done.)
Well, it’s Gratitude
Monday. They say that the very act of trying to find something to be thankful
for (even if you fail) is a key to happiness. So here’s what I’m grateful for:
Those fat, pathetic,
losers with compensation issues in their paramilitary dress-up clothes limited
their willie-waving to spraying CS gas, beating people with poles and killing
only one person (may her memory be a blessing); at least they did not start
firing their weapons into the crowds.
