Friday, July 6, 2012

Ted Kennedy Announces Candidacy for President of Hell



Originally posted September 2009.


With gracious thanks to BigFurHat over at iowntheworld.com for creating a fantastic image to go with this piece.

Hell, Circle 8.5 -- Just a week after his death, the greatest grafter of all time, former Massachusetts Senator Ted Kennedy, announced today that he was running for president of the netherworld.

“This place is a disgrace,” Kennedy said, while bathing in boiling resin and drinking a fifth of Bushmills and getting a massage from a demon named Lilith. “It looks like it’s been run by Republicans. The pagans and unbaptized babies are out of work. The lustful have lost their libido. The gluttons are starving. The hoarders are giving their possessions away. The wrathful can’t stop apologizing. The heretics have found religion. The violent have become docile. The pimps have stopped wearing fedoras and purple suits. The flatterers have gone silent. The simonists have stopped selling pardons. The soothsayers have stopped making fortune cookies. The politicians have started giving back people’s money. The hypocrites have stopped living lies. Thieves are stealing only from themselves. Deceivers are being honest. Sowers of discord have become pacifists. Falsifiers have discovered truth. And the treacherous have become huggable teddy bears.

“It’s like Martha’s Vineyard down here. It must stop, and stop now. It’s embarrassing. What would they think above ground if anyone found out?”

Kennedy said he promises a typical liberal reform platform: “We’ll restore the redistribution of wealth, spread misery equally among all classes, harvest the brains of anyone who's not yet a zombie, and curtail all freedoms and enjoyments. Why, you can’t come to hell for a suntan!”

His running mate will be Yuri Andropov, once the Soviet premier and Kennedy’s old pen pal.

The former U.S. Senator, most known for his rotund physique and vicious political attacks and inability to drive over water, said he’s just the man to come in and clean up a realm beset by years of increasingly lackluster observance of the rules of inflicting excruciating torture and eternal pain on Hell’s dwellers.

“This place has so much sloth and lascivious behavior and enjoyment going on, you'd think it was the U.S. Senate chambers at midnight during a vote on economic stimulus,” Kennedy said.

His first order of business, Kennedy added, would be organizing all demons, an often fractious group of heathens who would just as soon chew each other’s scales off as collaborate, into a well-oiled political machine that can strong-arm the supporters of any opponent into throwing their evil charms behind him. He also said he’d release all of the whores from their shackles and put them to work, secretly, to entrap the current hierarchy of power in Hell in compromising positions, such as being kind and benevolent to strangers.

Kennedy has his work cut out for him. Back in the 1950s, after Joseph Stalin died and moved here, Adolf Hitler recruited him in an attempt to overthrow Satan and form a Communist-Fascist dictatorship, but Satan fought back, having his best Gorgons unleash parasitic worms to infect the brains of both mass murderers. They’ve been hanging from either side of a Tree of Death ever since, forced to face and curse one another for all eternity.

But that was back when Hell was a bad place to be, and even those closest to Baal say he just isn’t the same cruel devil he used to be.

“I think it’s the age thing,” said one of Satan’s confidants, a three-armed, four-legged demon with 47 eyes and four humans pierced through his tongue. “He’s been waiting to take over the earth for so long, he appears to be going soft. Plus, with guys like Kim Jong-Il and Mahmoud Ahmadinejad and U.S. President Barack Obama around, Hell is kinda starting to look like valuable real estate.”

Beelzebub himself seemed flattered by the challenge, according to his spokesman, Richard “Ahhh” Gibbs (twin brother of the chief flak for Obama).

“Satan was very pleased when he found out Senator Kennedy would be coming here,” Gibbs said. “That’s why he offered him a position of prestige among the grafters. The President himself enjoys a turn in boiling resign now and then, and was even gracious enough to give Lilith, one of his concubines, to the good Senator as a welcome gift.

“But really, we don’t think it’s anything to worry about. I’m sure Satan and the senator can work things out this weekend when they plan to have a picnic near the Circle of Cocytus (“wailing river”), in Lower Hell.

“In fact, Mr. Kennedy is so kind he’s even offered to drive.”

DEVELOPING…..
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Thursday, July 5, 2012

ElRushbo Gives Me Townhall Protest Marching Orders




Source: Soylent Green

Originally posted August 2009.

I was just about finished polishing the last of my 7,001 gold bars, doing what rich white racist community organizers do when shamelessly hording our money from the IRS to fund secretive political missions from K Street, when the phone rang.

“Dr. Dave, I presume?”

“Yep,” I said into the Bluetooth headset the Republican National Committee bought me last fall during the infamous “Barack Obama Is a Kenyan” rallies, aimlessly rubbing circles over the gleaming gold bar in my hand.

“This izzzz Elllll-Russsshhhbo.”

“Hey, there Mahatma. Been reported to the White House today?”

“Dr. Dave, I’m sure Rahmbo records streaming audio of my voice every day; there’s no need for anyone to report me.”

“Good point. What can I do for ya?” I set down the gold bar and picked up a swastika arm band. I had a feeling it was going to come in handy.

“Glad you asked, Dr. Dave. I have some marching orders for you.”

I knew it, I thought. I’d been so bored of late, having been mundanely blogging thousands of words about the details of the president’s energy and health care policy and helping to bring down his popularity. I had a pretty good feeling that “marching orders” meant there was opportunity to be had in crisis. I was not disappointed.

“It’s time to load up the busses and haul in the grannies and granddads from all over the country. We’ve got to hit these Townhall meetings with force.”

Secretly inside I felt like a kid, as if I were again wiggling in delight over dropping a squirming frog down the front of Miss Wilson’s blouse and watching my third-grade teacher scream in revulsion, as she tore off her shirt to keep the frog from crawling into her bra, revealing what I figured at the time to be the greatest thing any 8-year-old had ever seen.

“No Brooks Brothers crowd, Rush? No seersucker suits and Bulova watches? You want straw hat and pitchfork types, right?” I said, trying to shake off the memory of my first community disruption to focus on the task in front of us.

“Righto, Dr. Dave. We need angry mobs.” I could hear the giddiness in his voice. He was reveling in the president’s Waterloo moment. He wanted this president to fail. “Make sure you round up lots of Libertarians and independents and pissed off Democrats, just to make it look good. We want to achieve deception here. We’ve got to make it look like the majority of Americans don’t want this health care business. We’ve got to make it look like people have just had enough.”

“Yes, Godfather,” I said.

And Rush went on, making it clear that his and Sean Hannity’s and Michael Steele’s and John Boehner’s and Mitch McConnell’s names were never to be associated with such shenanigans.

As he wrapped up, the doorbell rang.

RIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGG!

Explosions erupted inside the house. The dog, barking 40 times a second, came racing down the hall, the sound of her claws scraping the floor growing louder and louder as she approached. My kids, emitting high-pitched screeches, ran like banshees right beside the dog, the cacophony so loud I could barely hear Rush saying “What the…..What IZZZ that racket?”

I opened the door to find the FedEx man standing outside, holding an envelope. The two children dashed out to greet him, one coming from each side of me, the dog barreling out between my legs, almost knocking me over. In fear, the FedEx man flung the envelope at me and dashed down the steps.

I caught the envelope on my chest and fell back against the open door, balancing on one leg while using my other foot to hook the dog under her throat, to keep her from chasing the poor guy.

“What the hell is going on?” Rush said in my ear, clearly not happy.

“Sorry, Rush.” I made sure everyone was back in the house and took the Bluetooth off my ear for a second and screamed, knowing full well Rush could still hear me but at least I wouldn’t be ruining his cochlear implants. “KIDS!!! I’m trying to plan something here on the phone. Will you SHUT UP?”

My question was immediately ignored.

“What, Daddy? What? What? What are you planning?” my 8-year-old said, hopping up and down with the unabashed glee I recognized in myself the day I disrupted Miss Wilson’s classroom.

“Yeah, Daddy. What? What? What?” said my youngest.

“An angry mob. Now give me just a minute.” I put the headset back on and opened the envelope and took out a check. “WOW, Rush. Just a million this time?”

“Yes, Dr. Dave. It’s a tough economy, but we know you will use it wisely.”

“Sure, Rush. Heck, with the Cash for Clunkers discount, we might be able to use the money to buy a couple thousand Toyata Priuses and have the rabble rousers show up at the Townhall meetings disguised as anthropogenic global warming believers.”

“Good thinking, Dr. Dave.”

“Are you going to make fun of the president,” my youngest asked, adding: “Rock Obama! I don’t like him!”

“Me neither,” the 8-year-old chimed in. “Barack Obama: KING OF THE MOONBATS! Hey, Dad. Can we come too? We’ll have Mommy paint swastikas on our cheeks!”

“Dr. Dave,” Rush said, having listened to my family dynamic all along, “you’ve been raising them right. I think your angry mobs are going to be wildly successful.”
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Wednesday, July 4, 2012

I Am a Democrat: You Owe Me


In recognition of Dependence Day, I give you ....

I’m a democrat. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. I have my own pile of money, but I want yours, too, including the four pennies you have rattling around in the bottom of that peanut butter jar you frugal idiots like to use as a change holder. Give it up! You owe me.

I’m a democrat. I just say I like the public school system. My kids go to private schools so that your kids can go to public schools and learn how to be good little democrats like me. When my kids grow up and become better members of a collectivist society, and your kids grow up confused, my kids will get government jobs and take more money and freedom from your kids. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. I have a job with health insurance, but I think it’s everyone else’s fault when I get sick and have to cut back on my lifestyle so I can pay for health care that should be free, along with cars and houses and big screen TVs. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. There is no god. You can go ahead and get down on your knees and pray to the ceiling for forgiveness and strength and peace, but I’ll be standing right behind you with a tire iron, bashing your skull and stealing your wallet. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. I hate people. I would rather sleep with my dog or a cucumber or a tree than with another person…unless I can just dump them on the curb after we’re through. You just have sex to make more people so you can continue to earn more money while you rape the planet. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. I love taxes. It’s patriotic…for you…to pay them. I don’t pay any, anyway. And if I have to, I’ve figured out loop holes or have offshore accounts to shelter my money, so the government never really gets too much from me anyway. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. It’s not only my right but also my duty to take freedom and representative republicanism from you, little by little, and replace it with government bureaucracy. From each according to his ability, to each according to his need. I’m needy. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. I have a $20 million vacation playground on Martha’s Vineyard and a guarded compound in South Chicago and belong to the richest majority in Washington’s history. But I hate rich people who aren't democrats and want your property too so I can save endangered swamp rats and build turtle tunnels and fix toilets. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. There are more of you than there are of me. You breathe too much. I’ve told the world outlandish lies that you’re causing global warming, using faulty correlations to get everyone so worried they’re about to let me tax thin air. And you’ll breathe a lot less. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. I’m an elitist. I’m perfect. I’m not like all of you stupid wingnuts out there working your greedy little fingers to the bone trying to make a little money and feed your family and have something to call successful when you retire. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. I live in the city so I can get stupid drunk and piss on the streets when I want and kick your parked car when it gets in my way. It’s too bad that you have all those guns in your humble suburban and country homes. If you didn’t, I’d come and toss you out on your naked ass and make you live in the fetid cities that my government policies screwed up. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. I think you hate homosexuals. I have no idea that you just want to be left alone and live your life the way you see fit and not have your children taught with government money that they should seek alternative lifestyles for the fun of it. I just want you to do what I think you should do with your life. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. I’m so tolerant I can’t tolerate anyone who doesn’t think the way I do. In fact, I hate white people. I hate all people. I hate myself. I hate myself so much that I hate you even more when you are happy. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. I don’t know how to do anything for myself. I need to be told what to do. I don’t think human beings are capable of taking care of themselves. That’s what government is for. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. I don’t think any people should have rights. I think fish and frogs and grass should, however, and I want to represent them in court…and you to pay for it. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. I’m a child. I act like a child and I think like a child and I live like a child and I throw up my hands and have little fits when I don’t get my way. There should be no consequences for anything I do. But there should be consequences for you, even if you’re blameless in what I accuse you of. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. I’m racist but I get others to think that you are racist just because I call you one. It’s a riot to watch you squirm because I know you have a conscience. I do not. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. I was born poor or middle class or rich, but it doesn’t matter. I was born black or white or Asian or Latina, but it still doesn’t matter. In fact, it’s Bush’s fault that I was even allowed to be born at all. You owe me.

I’m a democrat. I want health care at your expense, while I’m young and virulent and child-like. But then I want you to kill me when I start to get old and weak and feeble, so that all of my young and virulent and child-like democrat friends can have health care at your expense.

Then I want to come back to life as a rock, so lots of birds can shit on me. They owe me, too, for being a loony moonbat.

Originally posted July 2009.

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Tuesday, July 3, 2012

President Leads Police on Drunken Vehicle Chase after White House Beer Party


Reposted from July 2009.

WASHINGTON -- President Barack Obama was arrested for DUI this afternoon after taking a Harvard professor and a Cambridge police officer on a harrowing barhopping tour and subsequent high-speed police chase through the city.

What started as a beer picnic outside the Oval Office to clear the air over the president’s embarrassing comments last week after the arrest of Harvard’s Henry Louis Gates turned ugly, when Obama, having quaffed one Bud Light and four plastic bottles of water in 15 minutes, stole a Secret Service SUV and demanded Gates and Sgt. James Crowley continue their party throughout the District of Columbia.

When Crowley refused to enter the SUV and politely threatened to arrest the president for disorderly conduct, Obama clubbed him on the head a half dozen times with a full bottle of water and shoved the unconscious police officer into the back seat. Obama then jumped in the driver’s seat and mashed the accelerator and rammed the massive vehicle through the White House gate at a high rate of speed.

Gate guards and members of the Secret Service were too stunned to react.

“It was like he turned into Kimbo Slice when he beat up that officer,” said one secret serviceman, who asked to remain anonymous. “We just didn’t know what to do. To be honest with you, after seeing him throw that girly pitch at the MLB All-Star game, we were wondering if this guy was
really a poser.”

Vice President Joe Biden, who saw the whole thing from the Oval Office, where he was practicing sitting at the president’s mahogany Resolute desk and saying presidential things like “ahhh” and “ummm,” said Obama has a drinking problem.

“I knew the rumors were swirling among his supporters that the president has been seen drinking from noxious plastic water bottles far too often in public, but I didn’t know it was this bad,” Biden said. “I guess the petroleum from all that plastic must have leeched into his brain and triggered something evil that we just couldn’t see coming.”

By the time everyone realized what had happened, the vehicle carrying the three men had sped out of sight.

The president and Gates, however, were soon seen dragging Crowley into Halo, on P Street, where a bartender, who calls himself Max, said the president ordered four more plastic bottles of water, while Gates drank a Perrier.

“They got that nice police officer, who was slumped on the bar, a chocolate-strawberry martini, but he wouldn’t wake up to drink it,” the bartender said. “The president kept poking him with an empty water bottle and telling him he was acting stupidly and asking him to stop faking it. But, I have to tell you, I don’t think that man was faking anything. He was out cold.”

Witnesses said the president and Gates carried Crowley back to the SUV after spending about 15 minutes at the bar, long before police could arrive on the scene. The vehicle was spotted about 10 minutes later at Café’ Saint-Ex & Gate 54 on 14th Street, but only for a short while. One witness said only Obama and Gates went into the bar, then came out after just a few minutes, dripping wet and laughing hysterically and carrying sloshing plastic bottles of water.

“It looked like they had been having a water fight,” another witness said.

By the time the three men were spotted at the Wonderland Ballroom on Kenyon Street, Obama was reportedly hitting the wall. “He kept yelling, ‘SHOTS. Let’s do SHOTS!’” said a male barmaid who identified himself only as Candi. “He must have done about 4 shots of Evian, and then started dumping tequila down that poor police officer’s throat. It was very frightening.”

Obama reportedly got word from one of the bar patrons of the sound of approaching sirens, and the three men stumbled out (this time, Crowley on his own) of the bar and piled into the vehicle and drove off, just as police cruisers came barreling down the street.

Witnesses say the president drove the SUV erratically back toward the White House, weaving in and out of traffic for several blocks, as police closed in. More than once the SUV left the street and lumbered down the sidewalk. Along the way, the vehicle ran over a clown who curiously resembled Minnesota Senator Al Franken, a female prostitute, and two homeless men sleeping on the sidewalk.

The prostitute got up and ran away, while the homeless men crawled back into their cardboard boxes and fell asleep again. Only the clown died, the coroner said. Vehicular manslaughter charges may be pending, police said.

“We have to wait for identification procedures and toxicology tests before we know whether or not it really was Franken,” one officer said. “If it was, I doubt we’ll press charges. But if it really was a working clown, well then, by God, we’ll throw the book at the president.”


Police finally caught up with the vehicle on Pennsylvania Avenue, when Obama took a corner too fast and it slammed into a fence.

Police quickly took the president into custody. Obama was charged with battery, motor vehicle theft, destruction of government property, and driving under the influence, before he was hauled off to the Marion Barry Honorary Cell at the DC Jail, a cigarette dangling from his mouth.

Obama still faces charges of child abuse and human cruelty over feeding children and homeless people lead-laced vegetables from the First Garden.

UPDATE: A million thank yous to Friendly21 for posting a link to this over at Hot Air.
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Monday, July 2, 2012

Flies Revolt, Swarm White House



Reposted from June 2009.

WASHINGTON, D.C. -- Billions of flies descended on the nation’s capital this morning, torching entire neighborhoods, looting businesses, and swarming the White House in a revolt against President Barack Hussein Obama’s brutal public execution of a fly last week.

The riots began early during rush hour. Hordes of flies could be seen flying low to avoid detection by radar in squadrons from all directions, carrying either excrement bombs or signs declaring “Exoskeletal Beings Have Rights, Too.” Sorties pummeled everything along The Mall and from Pennsylvania Avenue south to the Tidal Basin and the Jefferson Memorial.

Before the Pentagon could realize what was occurring and muster a swift defense, flies had secured a perimeter 10 square blocks around the White House and began their assault on the president’s quarters. Local flies quickly joined the fracas, setting fire to their own homes and looting businesses, particularly grocery stores and sushi restaurants.

“It was an incredible nightmare,” said a homeless man, leaning against one of the few cherry trees that weren’t set ablaze in Lafayette Square, just across Pennsylvania Avenue from the White House. Identifying himself as former General Motors Corp. Chief Executive Rick Wagoner, who claimed he hid under a space blanket during the riot, the man was appalled something like this could happen in Washington. “It’s despicable those flies would do so much damage to their own neighborhoods. Do they think this is Los Angeles or Detroit?”

One Secret Serviceman, who refused to be indentified, said the Eisenhower Executive Office Building, where Vice President Joe Biden lives, was gutted by fire and feared destroyed.

“We were really scared the White House was next, once we got the vice president out of his underground bunker and managed to hide him in an abandoned subway station nearby,” he said. “He actually had a good time playing cards with the homeless guys down there. I think he felt right at home.”

The Secret Service tried using their Katcha Bug Humane Bug Catchers to trap as many flies as possible, but the flies kept resuming their assault once they were let free. “Now I know what the Gitmo detainees must be thinking of doing once we let them go,” the unidentified Secret Serviceman said.

The Pentagon finally called in crop dusters and strafed the entire city with secret stashes of illegal DDT, just in case there were outlying cells of flies ready to continue the fight.

“I know we’re not supposed to use that stuff, but the situation demanded appropriate action, and the president acted decisively in the best interests of the nation’s capital…and himself,” a Pentagon spokesman said. “We’ll deal with the fallout, and the possible increase in future cancer rates from Washington residents and government employees, when we have to. Besides, if we get national health care, anyone who gets sick from this stuff won’t be treated anyway. So, really, it’s a win-win.”

By mid-afternoon, the entire National Mall, the South Lawn, The Ellipse, the Washington Monument grounds, and Constitution Gardens were a sea of black, with dead flies piled a foot deep as if a blizzard from hell had engulfed the city.

The exterior of the White House was in disrepair, with most of the windows facing Lafayette Square shattered and the paint on the statuesque columns chewed away. On the south side of the building, the following words appeared to be scrawled in excrement on the fascia of the balcony: “You May Be the Messiah But You’re No Lord of the Flies.”

Sources say the president, who was in the building at the time of the attack, remains shaken but unharmed.

The entire city was also still in lockdown, with the Federal Bureau of Investigation, the National Guard, and officers of the Air Force Office of Special Investigations, Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives, Capitol Police, Central Intelligence Agency, Defense Criminal Investigative Service, Department of State Diplomatic Security, Drug Enforcement Administration, Environmental Protection Agency, Federal Protective Service, Fish & Wildlife Service, Immigration and Customs Enforcement, Internal Revenue Service, Marshals Service, Naval Criminal Investigative Service, Postal Service, Secret Service, and Transportation Security Administration going door to door armed with cans of Raid to kill any remaining flies that might be in hiding.

Several government sources said they feared federal employees are now so afraid of something like this happening again that they’re going to quit their jobs and flee the area, ruining the city’s claim to the only dwindling unemployment rate in the nation.

Unsubstantiated rumors implicate People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) as organizers of the revolt. A spokesman for PETA refused to comment on the allegations or that fact that 10 members of PETA were arrested on Pennsylvania Avenue, including buxom blonde TV star Pamela Anderson, who was detained for trying to smuggle flies to safety inside her mouth.

The PETA spokesman did indicate his group would take action. “We have knowledge that so many flies from the Eastern seaboard were offended by the president’s murder of one of their innocent brothers that they joined in the revolt and were summarily executed themselves. We fear the damage to the ecosystem may be irreversible. We demand that Congress immediately take up legislation to add these exoskeletal beings to the endangered species list.”

The president himself issued this written statement through the White House Press Office:

“The history of our treatment of flies in this country is abhorrent. We are bad…very bad. I myself am even more bad:

Because I’m bad, I’m bad -- come on
(bad, bad -- really, really bad)
You know I’m bad, I’m bad -- you know it
(bad, bad -- really, really bad)
You know I’m bad, I’m bad -- come on, you know
(bad, bad -- really, really bad)
And the whole world has to answer right now
Just to tell you once again,
Who’s bad . . .

“I apologize for committing murder last week. I was tired. Gibbsy was over there, off camera, egging me on. We all thought it was a big joke. I see now how wrong I was. I look forward to dialoging with the flies, PETA, and anyone else concerned about this terrible incident in our history.”

This satire is also posted at Smart Girl Nation.
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Sunday, July 1, 2012

Death Is Yours ... If You Want It (Revisited)




A NOTE FROM SNARKY: While I'm on vacation this week, sneaking up to Pennsylvania to sabotage Barack Obama's visit and the Occupy Skid Row movement's plan to make Philadelphia even filthier, I'll be reposting some of the more popular offerings of this site, just for Ema, so she knows that trolls like her can't possibly begin to measure up to what this site has accomplished over the past 4 years. Thanks for reading. SB.


...............................................................................................................................................................


I am an expatriate in reverse. I left America to find America. When I returned, I found America a writhing, swollen, tumor infested beast, wriggling in the throes of death.


That was nearly 20 years ago. It takes a long time for a bloated bureaucracy to die.


Now I sit on my front porch and monitor the decay from an iPhone, like some detached scientist, keeping data, talking notes, bookmarking doom, plotting charts that prove my hypothesis: We're all going to die.


I am a prognosticator, a Nostradamus, ready to flip to the last page of the Mayan calendar. A false prophet.


Of course we're all going to die; humans weren't meant to be immortal. Thank God for that. The problem is we are all dying of loss, a loss of self, a loss of responsibility, a loss of personal dignity. Premature rigor mortis. We still live and breathe and pump cholesterol clogged blood through our veins. But outside we die a nanosecond at a time as the world passes by, microscopic oblivion ex utero.


When nearly 50 percent of the taxpayers pay no tax at all and demand that the 10% of the highest earners who already suffer 70% of the tax burden pay more, when we give up basic freedoms for the "comfort" and "security" of government "protection," when we eschew freedom for "safety," only death is inevitable. The death of individuality. The death of rational thought. The death of a way of life we couldn't possibly have had anywhere else. The death of a country.


So I sit here on my porch, watching it all, trapping the images in these words, photographing in hi definition the end.


It's a God-damned comedy of horrors.


...............................................................................................................................................................


The news is filled with cannibalism. A man takes synthetic bath salts and chews off the face of another man in broad daylight on a Miami causeway. Both are naked. No one knows why. A gay porn star mails pieces of human flesh to political offices. He sends videos to fans. He blames Hollywood.


The paranoid fear the zombie apocalypse is nigh. It's been here for decades, if not a century. We just never noticed.


Zombie politicians began devouring our lives, our freedoms, our human-ness long before the images of freaked out psychopaths scrolled across our 50-inch TV screens, the very ones on which we watched Jeopardy and American Idol and Jersey Shore, while zombie cannibals in our local municipalities and state capitols and the District of Criminals gutted us from within. And it wasn't even surreptitious. The gutting occurred before our very eyes. We were just too blind to see. Now we live on life support: HDTV, Xbox, takeout Chinese. We get fat from Big Gulps and digital over-stimulation, as we bleed our insides out into government coffers, knowingly.


We are not sheep: we are slaves.


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When I lived in Germany in the early 90s, a soldier "fighting for my country" in a guard shack, I'd walk around the villages and cities of my adopted country and meet people who were in denial. When you start two world wars and eviscerate the population of a continent, you no longer have a sense of self. Socialism was rampant. Kids graduated from high school expecting the government to cradle them. Government assistance checks were a badge of honor. If you were a young woman and uncomfortable with your bra size, a government boob job magically transformed your confidence. A good day was drinking your way through breakfast and lunch and dinner and collapsing on a bench at a bus stop. Four years in the pit of a cradle to grave society taught me there was no better place on earth than America.


But what I came back to wasn't what I had left. I've seen federal government agents kill American citizens for no reason at all. I've seen young people no longer embrace the values my parents taught me: work hard, be your own man, expect nothing but what you earn by the sweat of your own brow. It's as if I came back only to find I was still living in the apathetic society I'd left behind in Germany. I returned to participation trophies for being born and people spending $100,000 to earn sociology degrees so they can never earn more than $50,000 a year.


I came back to madness.


It's accelerated beyond belief these past four years. My iPhone wants to replace "people" with "proletariat" as i type. Free has now replaced freedom as the fundamental purpose of life in America. Satire is now reality; we're living a Ray Bradbury novel, an Ayn Rand prophecy, a George Orwell realization.


................................................................................................................................................................


Aphorisms for our times race through my head. Weird scenes inside the dumb mind. Something wicked has already come. What rough beast slouches toward Washington to make you bow down.


We've been living in strange times for as long as I can remember. I was born during Vietnam; I now write during Americanam. The yoke of government is so locked around our necks I fear we may never break free.


The days ahead are dangerous. When a sitting president who has accomplished nothing but corruption and anguish and doled out more than your fair share of abuse has a chance to win re-election, we may already be over the cliff.


In these spend times we are nearing end times. The center cannot hold. It's already beyond being off axis.


In the coming 5 months we have a decision to make. Do we let our country die? Do we let our way of life die? Do we let ourselves die?


Choosing Mitt Romney over Barack Obama is infinitely more palatable than continuing on this path of destruction we follow. We have great sacrifices to make. We will have to retire later than we planned. We will have to expect less government entitlements than we were "promised" when we were forced to give the government our money to fund them. Then more money. And still more money. (Hell, every year we vote to tax ourselves locally for infrastructure projects many of us never see come to life, because often that money is diverted to other expenditures, just like the entitlement taxes we pay.) We will have to make the biggest gut check of our lives. We will have to hold the limbs of the people we elect to take over this monstrosity to more than just a fire; we will have to tie them to a rack and torture them, if necessary, to right this sinking ship.


I don't know if we have the stomach for it. I don't know if we are brave enough. I don't know if we can disconnect from the shroud of unreality we create for ourselves to get through every second and minute and hour of every day.


But we must. If we don't, it's all over. And the death throes our country has been experiencing for longer than I've been alive will accelerate.


And it will entirely be our own fault.


We'll have to live with that, until we don't. Live, that is.


Cross-posted at Pat Dollard.

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Friday, June 29, 2012

Never Go Full Retard, Regressives

NEVER GO FULL RETARD

Yes. I'm calling for WAR against lawlessness. Yes. I fear we are stumbling over the edge. Yes. We are being ruled by a stuttering clusterfuck of a miserable failure and 544 other buffoons. 


And. Yes. We. Are. Slaves. This comment on my piece from yesterday, posted here and at Conservative Hideout, just proves what I've been saying all along (The quoted lines are from my WAR piece.):

“This is no longer America. You no longer have the opportunity for the American Dream.” 
“THIS IS WAR.” 
No its not. This is the rule of law. You are making a utterly foolish spectacle of yourself doing the ‘chicken little – the sky is falling’ routine. 
This is USA, the will of the people, and how the system works. The people’s Congress passed the ACA. The President of USA has signed the ACA bill into law. The Supreme Court of USA has declared the ACA constitutional. 
Get over yourself. 
“Barack Obama swept into office in 2008 with a promise of hope and change, but in reality he’s fundamentally changed America –JUST AS HE SAID HE WOULD – and that “change” is to effectively dash all hope for any kind of future whatsoever.” 
You have forgotten USA is the land of the free, home of the brave? Having a safety under the high-flying trapeze artist does not prevent the artist from being any better or worse than the individual wants to be. 
The crux of the matter is so simple. You have convince yourself that you do not want a safety net for yourself (for reasons known only to the universe). It pi$$es you off to no end to think that there are others who do want a higher quality of life and are willing to pay for it. 
“You, we, me — we’re all slaves now.” 
Living in an advanced, modern, civil society makes one a slave?! Really? 
Ema Nymton
~@:o?

Never go full retard, regressives. Stop chooming the unicorn farts and step away from the stupid.
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Thursday, June 28, 2012

The Dream Is Over: SCOTUS Says You're No Longer Free


This is no longer America. You no longer have the opportunity for the American Dream. You, we, me -- we're all slaves now. The Supreme Court of the United States of America has just made it official.

Congress has abandoned you. The executive branch has abandoned you.  SCOTUS has abandoned you. The lapdog media has abandoned you.

I had hopes, coming into today, that SCOTUS would uphold the rule of law, that the President of the United States and his Congresscriminal henchmen (and women) would not be allowed to rule you like king and court. I had hopes that the possibility of the American Dream, though tarnished and bloated by a monolith of ineffectual and overtly socialist federal government (from BOTH parties), could be reclaimed in November.

I no longer have any such hope. Barack Obama swept into office in 2008 with a promise of hope and change, but in reality he's fundamentally changed America -- JUST AS HE SAID HE WOULD -- and that "change" is to effectively dash all hope for any kind of future whatsoever. He will do whatever he must to win in November. The Supreme Court just gave him the most significant boost of his presidency. Even the Stock Market fears the dream is over, tumbling after the SCOTUS decision was announced.

From the SCOTUSblog, while 866,000 people watched the live blog, the ruling came down:
  • In a ruling by turncoat, un-American, and heretoforetobe reviled, Chief Justice John Roberts wrote that the Court does not reach severability issues, having upheld the mandate 5-4. The Court holds that the mandate violates the Commerce Clause, but that doesn't matter because there are five votes for the mandate to be constitutional under the taxing power. "Our precedent demonstrates that Congress had the power to impose the exaction in Section 5000A under the taxing power, and that Section 5000A need not be read to do more than impose a tax. This is sufficient to sustain it."
  • You CANNOT refuse to pay the tax. The only effect of not complying with the mandate is that you pay the tax. (A tax that Obama himself previously said WASN'T a tax.)
  • Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg makes clear that the vote is 5-4 on sustaining the mandate as a form of tax. Her opinion, for herself and Justices Sotomayor, Breyer and Kagan, joins the key section of Roberts opinion on that point. She would go further and uphold the mandate under the Commerce Clause, which Roberts wouldn't. Her opinion on Commerce does not control.
  • In dissent, Justice William Kennedy, JUSTICE WILLIAM KENNEDY!, wrote: "In our view, the entire Act before us is invalid in its entirety." It's a vast judicial overreach.
But dissenting opinons don't help you hold onto your freedom. There is no room in this country for freedom anymore. None whatsoever. (The actual majority opinion is here.)

William Jacobson over at Legal Insurrection says we need to fight back at the voting booth.

I recently said the same:

In these spend times we are nearing end times. The center cannot hold. It's already beyond being off axis. 
In the coming 5 months we have a decision to make. Do we let our country die? Do we let our way of life die? Do we let ourselves die? 
Choosing Mitt Romney over Barack Obama is infinitely more palatable than continuing on this path of destruction we follow. We have great sacrifices to make. We will have to retire later than we planned. We will have to expect less government entitlements than we were "promised" when we were forced to give the government our money to fund them. Then more money. And still more money. (Hell, every year we vote to tax ourselves locally for infrastructure projects many of us never see come to life, because often that money is diverted to other expenditures, just like the entitlement taxes we pay.) We will have to make the biggest gut check of our lives. We will have to hold the limbs of the people we elect to take over this monstrosity to more than just a fire; we will have to tie them to a rack and torture them, if necessary, to right this sinking ship.
I've been hearing "let's go to the voting booth and take back this country" all of my adult life. Like many of you, I've voted my conscience, or at least on what I thought was in the best interest of this country to keep it somewhere within the framework of a Constitutional Republic, however ridiculous and misguided an exercise that was.

The fact is, we've allowed 100 Senators, 435 Congressmen, one President, and nine Supreme Court justices — 545 human beings out of the 300 million who are directly, legally, morally, and individually responsible for the domestic problems that plague this country -- to cajole us, to patronize us, to lie to us, to horrify us, to control us from their sick little pulpits in the District of Criminals.

FIVE-HUNDRED-AND-FORTY-FIVE PEOPLE RULE OVER 300 MILLION.

It's time we stop letting them.

Congress has abandoned you. The executive branch has abandoned you. The Supreme Court has abandoned you. Their watchdogs, the media, have abandoned you.

What are you going to do about it?

I know what I'm going to do: Tear the monolith down by whatever means necessary.

THIS IS WAR.

Also posted at Pat Dollard.

Linked by Barking Moonbat.


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Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Guess What's on the Menu for the Dinner With Barack Contest?

Obama ate a dog. It was in his memoir, so it must be true. And when we found out, the jokes flowed like the river of campaign money he's been spending. Except we didn't run out. They're still coming.

That's because, while Demorrhoids keep running away from Obama along with his diminishing campaign funds, Obama's Twitterbot keeps tweeting photos of B.O. and Bo, as if the hilarity of the admission never occurred, even though we all know he prefers pitbull. 



I wonder if our king will bring Bo when he rides his rainbow bus through Pennsylvania next week, raising money from the little people while I'm there. (Does he have to ruin my vacation, too?)


But don't worry, I'm not racist; I'm just heckling his white half.

At least some poor sucker will know what's on the menu for the Dinner with Barack contest. Then, again, maybe that's not such a good idea.


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Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Get Your Free Obama Phone


He never delivered on the Obamamaniac's desires for him to pay for their mortgage and gas, but Barack Obama  can give you a free phone. (Question: Since when does a government program have a .net address?)

Predictably, if you're already sucking on the government teat, you automatically qualify for a phone:
If you, or members in your household are, receiving the following benefits you automatically qualify for the Lifeline program. Those interested in the program must have an income of less than 135% of the Federal Poverty Guidelines. (For example in the 48 Contiguous States and D.C the income level is $22,350 per year for a family of four.) 
  • Food Stamps or Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP)
  • Medicaid
  • Supplemental Security Income – commonly known as SSI
  • Health Benefit Coverage under Child Health Insurance Plan (CHIP)
  • The National School Lunch Program’s Free Lunch Program.
  • Low-Income Energy Assistance Program – LIHEAP
  • Federal Public Housing Assistance ( Section 8 )
  • If you are a low-income Eligible Resident of Tribal Lands
  • Temporary Assistance to Needy Families – TANF
Last year, the federal program paid out $1.6 billion to cover free cell phones and the monthly bills of 12.5 million wireless accounts. Naturally an audit showed that many people getting you to pay for their phones were taking more than their "fair share."
269,000 wireless Lifeline subscribers were receiving free phones and monthly service from two or more carriers.
You can imagine the number of participants is only going to climb. I mean, it's not like that money could be used to create jobs jobs jobs, or something.

But jobs have never been Obama's top priority; getting re-elected has. Does he really think giving someone a free phone will buy their vote? 

Oh. Wait.






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Monday, June 25, 2012

UPDATED: Aaron Worthing (Walker) Was Swatted, Tells What Happened

In yet another SWATing event, @aaronworthing (Walker) reported on Twitter tonight that he was swatted:



Presumably over this:
I am free once again to do something very simple.  I am allowed to say the name Brett Kimberlin again.  The fact I was not allowed to do so, even in a post directed to the world at large and rather than any communication directed to Kimberlin himself, is a sign that things have gone horribly wrong in the Maryland legal system.  But more on that later.
This is the umpteenth time a conservative blogger has had something similar happen, from Patterico, to Stacy McCain, to Worthing, to et al. It's beyond ridiculous, and we're all beyond tired of it.


I assume Brett Kimberlin, the man "presumably" behind all of this, hasn't the balls to confront someone on his own property. That's actually probably the only smart thing Kimberlin, a serial criminal, has ever done.


More to come as it develops.


For realtime updates on what the twittersphere has to say, see Twitchy. Stacy McCain and IOTW and American Power and Joe Brooks and Nice Deb and Conservative Hideout and Bob Belvedere and Legal Insurrection are following this story too...


UPDATE: Patterico says the following: 

I just got off the phone with Aaron and he and his wife are a little shaken up but OK. The officers had machine guns but did not point them at Aaron. They were quickly able to determine it was a hoax. 
Aaron plans to post about it later.
UPDATE II: Aaron wasn't particularly gloating about the court decision today; he was ecstatic that he could finally speak freely, you know, exercising his right to the First Amendment that was unconstitutionally denied by a geezer judge who didn't know what Twitter was. More to follow when Twitter stops being it's usually buggy self.


About the most "egregious" thing Aaron did today was post this video from Braveheart's William Wallace screaming FREEEEEEEEEEDOOOOOOOMMMMMM! That's definitely fodder for SWATting, no?


UPDATE III: Aaron's checked in:
UPDATE IV: Make sure you check out the curiously titled post at BreitbartUnmasked, which is tied to Kimberlin, (though I loathe to link), "To Swat Or Not Swat That Is The Question.

UPDATE V: Erick Erickson (who was also swatted), weighs in. Plus, a look at Brett Kimberlin's protector (from the ORIGINAL Velvet Undeground, the name of Kimberlin's political activist organization:
UPDATE VI: I've been watching all of the Kimberlin goons on Twitter for weeks ... tonight, despite their normal vociferous badgering of any number of conservatives (and conspicuously) each other, they've gone dark:
UPDATE VII: Predictably, there's still no word on when Congress will address this swatting issue, despite numerous calls from DC lifers, from Saxby Chambliss to 85 members of Congress, to investigate and stop this heinous practice. But, hey, that was two weeks ago. Eric Holder, the man they want to investigate swatting, is the prize right now (and for good reason).


UPDATE VIII: Visit The Trenches for some of the best inside reporting on the ongoing, bizarre, convoluted Kimberlin story (it's a link to the site, because there are far too many posts to which to link).


UPDATE IX: Breitbart has contacted the Prince William County, Virginia, PD regarding the incident, confirming Worthing (Walker) was swatted. 


UPDATE X: Kimberlin lackey @OccupyRebellion finally surfaced. Keep checking its timeline for more misinformation.



So anyone following along on twitter know the basics.  I was SWATted tonight.  My wife was down in the basement, and unknown to me she had fallen asleep in an uncomfortable position while watching TV.  I was just finishing up a post where I was going to share Kimberlin’s nutty response to my motion for a partial stay when someone decided to recklessly endanger my life. 
I mean again.  Let’s not forget the last time someone intentionally engaged in conduct that they knew could get me and my wife killed.  In that case we know who the culprit was: Brett Kimberlin.  He intentionally and gratuitously revealed my real name, home address, work and work address, in court documents and then told the police in a letter that he believed because of his actions that “there exists the very real probability that Mr. Walker could be subjected to serious harm or death now that his identity has been exposed.”  And then he fought tooth and nail to keep that information from being sealed, and then fought to get them unsealed. 
But tonight we don’t know who did it, although I knew who to tell the police to look at.  I won’t say their names here, of course. 
I [was] writing when there was a knock at the door.  A second knock came and it was very insistent.  I went to the door and looked through the peep hole and there was nothing.  I said something like, “hello?” and someone firmly said, “open the door!” 
I opened up to find two cops hugging the front of the house.  They had M4’s as I recognized from video games (see?! They are good for something!) and they later confirmed.  They were not pointed at my face like it had been with Patrick.  They were pointed at the ground. 
(When I told my mother that, she said not to minimize it.  No, obviously whoever it was doing their best to get me killed.  Fortunately the police were not so easily tricked.)
UPDATE XII: Congresswoman Sandy Adams (R), FL-24, has released a statement on this latest swatting: 
With the increase in these dangerous incidents, it is clear that our citizens and law enforcement officers are at risk. I hope Attorney General Holder seriously considers the letter my colleagues and I sent him asking the Department of Justice to investigate these incidents and prosecute the perpetrators to the fullest extent of the law. 
Also posted at Pat Dollard.

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