Friday, July 3, 2015

My Last Politics Post Was Uncomfortably Polite, So...

Few items from teh morning site review.
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In the Are You Fucking Kidding Me File, Raw Story brings us the news of the plea deal rejection, by a Federal judge, in the case of Robert Rankin Doggart, a Tennessean (simply shocked, I tells ya) who actively plotted to kill, en masse, Muslims in the community of Hancock, New York. 

You know, terrorism. 

(I don't get it either, he's white, I don't understand how anyone could insinuate such a thing, white terrorists. Guffaws abound).

Overt acts included recruiting other plotters on social media, collection of weapons and explosives, and travel to SC to recruit militia members (by the way, did this twisted bugfucker meet any of the lovely collection of irradiated and inbred chromosomal material travelling in the same circle as the Charleston WHITE FUCKING TERRORIST?) Also, the noble Mr. Doggart plead guilty. A plea arrangement was struck, everything seemed to be on track for his modern 'martyrdom' (you know, where you go on Fox, whine to Steve Douchebro about how your xtian convictions were violated while Kilmeade and Fox Blonde Bimbo #2 fight over who gets to swallow your cock to the appendix).

Then the Federal judge decided that no one had really proven that this American Sniper wannabee was an actual threat, try again prosecutors. (Oddly, apparently the judge is a black man appointed by Bill Clinton. Unexpected, not the usual republican suffering from brown-skin blood-lust. Maybe a Dennis Miller thing, 'I used to be a democrat until 9/11 made me outraged by Benghaziiiiii"?)

Human Rights Watch has done the work of the angels on this, showing that a helluva lot of domestic Islamic terrorism cases, crowed about by the FBI as proof that J. Edgar Hoover never had an affair with Lindsey Graham they is the man, were crap, entrapment, plots driven and provisioned by the very same FBI or paid informants, that most of these dudes were putzes who couldn't find the wrong end of an AK-47, much less slaughter Camp LeJuene with four guys. Yet most of those cats are in prison for long-ass times.

You've heard of Yasser Hamdi (Jose Padilla)? There's no difference between the two cases, and not only did Hamdi end up being tortured and driven mad by the Bush administration, but his case was used by the criminal filth using that goddamn dry-drunk puppet 'president' with an unusual IQ, 4, to create case law for the 'enemy combatant' and torture. John 'Fucking Mengele was a piker' Yoo and so on.

But Pale Guy's intent and capabilities (the real weapons, acquired by Yon Lord Of Incest; and real travel, initiated by the guy who most Tennesseans think is probably a little too liberal for their tastes; as opposed to, oh, I don't know, say, FBI-created fake cellphone bombs and all the Little Debbies they could eat while talking about how many palaces and wives they get if the three of them overthrow the Great Satan) are unclear. Sounds familiarrrrrr - WAIT! GODDAMMIT! The dude who killed 9 people for the stated purpose of starting a race war who's intentions, according to Fox News, are unaccountably muddy! 

Eerie....
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News Item The Beta, from WaPoop

Rand Paul Blows Dog Whistle So Hard His Hair Ran And Hid. Let's be intellectually honest. Even Rand Paul, fake libertwatian, is not so stupid (close, maybe) as to meet alone with Cliven Bundy for 45 minutes. Cliven Bundy, known coward, traitor, and thief, may well have a touch of the untruth about him as well. 

This does not change the fact that the Nevada event did take place, with Lil'Clivey in attendance. 

This does not change the fact that Paul called for the return of federal land to the states, who, I can say with reasonable certainty, will sell that shit off by noon to cover the gaping budget holes in state's budgets that have existed since Ronald Reagan, now being the recipient of watersports games in hell with Hitler and Falwell, inspired young republicans everywhere to shut up and blow, with requisite happy ending, the nearest rich guy. Also, can you say 'no competitive bidding'?

This does not change his tweet

equating being a rich fucking republican with an iconic, 732 term congressman father, with any sort of persecution.

This does not change the fact that this needle-dicked stumphumper, with his degree from Joe's Gyro Creations And Opthamology and certification by the Paul Institute for Eye-Doctorining, has the seeds to entitle his damn self 'Dr. Rand Paul' on Twerker.
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News Item The Last

NASCAR, to change your audience, you will have to lose 75% of your entire current audience, and then find people who can watch 4 hours of turning. Gooden sie das luck. Again, from Raw Story
On the eve of a big holiday race weekend in Daytona Beach, David Childress was among those who ignored the call and packed a t-shirt festooned with the Civil War-era flag for his trip to the world-famous Florida racetrack. 
“I don’t think you’re supposed to cherish it, but don’t forget it,” said Childress, 61, from Mississippi, who said he owns six Confederate flags.
You're cherishing it, O' Copenhagen Cowboy. Seriously. I'm an American. You know, the guys who whipped your useless racist asses, oh, about 150 years ago this year. I own one American flag, for particular occasions (say, tomorrow), and I'm an America fanboi. ('Specially the part where a bunch of traitorous inbreds got their still beating hearts handed to them, about a sesquicentennial ago or so?) If you own Six Flags Over No Fucking Country that represent a losing, bigot, treasonous cause, you're cherishing it. Gimme your address, I'll send you a box of KY.
“You ain’t going to tell them boys they’re not going to fly their flags ‘cause they’re Alabama rednecks,” said Childress’ friend Debbie Dionne, 57, a cook from Pascagoula, Mississippi.
 Ma'am, you're so-o-o-o-o close. Let's try this:
"Because they are Alabama rednecks, they fly their decorative toilet paper (because, you know, it doesn't represent any actual sovereign entity but does symbolize shit.)," said paleo, internet polemicist and short order cook mumble years ago.
General Sherman, why did you go about your job so halfheartedly?
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HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY! 

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

These Are Considered Two Of The Serious Candidates...

...for the Republican nomination.

From Right Wing Watch:
Ben Carson, retired neurosurgeon, political rookie (and Jesus H Pollyanna Christ wearing a sundress, does it show), and human cup of Sleepy-Time tea, suggested Congress get 'creative' in ending the scourge of ickily fabulous gay weddings, and then said

Carson added that if he were to become president, he “would certainly get involved” in undoing the marriage decision because although he wants to “respect everybody and let everybody do what they want to do,” if “everybody gets the right to change things for their group” that will lead to “chaos.”
Ummm.
Benny, that's called democracy. The marketplace of ideas, ideally leading to common solutions that the populace as a whole can accept. The principles being:
  • "Hey, as long as I don't poop on your porch, mind your own damn business."  
  • "Hey, we both need roads and firefighters, and neither of us can afford to provide civil structures alone. So let's work together for the common good."
These principles are not opposed. 

Live your life, enjoy your life, and don't muck about in anyone else's living and enjoying. However, civilisation is impossible without a commons, things that cannot be done by the individual. Roads, defense, schools, courts. No one person builds a hospital, or becomes a neurosurgeon without receiving a lot of help along the way. And no one gets anywhere without the aforementioned marketplace of ideas. Civilisation is impossible if you have masses of unthinking automatons. You end up with cultural inbreeding, no ideas, no progress. Stagnation.


Your intent, your chaos-free society, is North Korea with a population of 300 million. Congratulations - you just peeled open the curtain hiding the fact that the Republican "'Merkin ideal of the rugged individualist" is bollocks. (Ignoring the fact that John Wayne was an actor, Cliven Bundy is a racist, and the Marlboro Man died of body cancer.) You guys don't want cowboys, you want serfs and a ruling class.
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Now, Lindsey Graham.

As called out by the Bob and Chez Show, and sourced for this post by Tiger Beat On The Potomac (read Charlie Pierce, please), Mr. Graham, in the insufferable political tradition known as the autobiohagiography, explains his unmarried status, saying that the right time and the right women did not ever coincide, ignoring the fact that Henry Kissinger ever/still gets laid.

The ex-girlfriend's quote I expect to see in tomorrow's TBOTP?
"He was really into pegging. I didn't understand, but the lisp was so sexy."
Mr. Graham, any senator can get bonked hourly if they so choose. Power is not an aphrodisiac, but power is one driving motive. You are not a raging hetero, you're simply not. Quite seriously, if you were to come out as asexual or gay, I'd give you a modicum of respect for living your life honestly. Still wouldn't vote for you because you're a goddamn lunatic, but I'd shake your hand. 
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Eh. My two cents on two peckernecks.

Friday, June 26, 2015

In Which paleo Finds The Muse Of Poetry

I saw my psychic this morning. I was hoping to find my Grannie Erma's famed cache of filberts, as I'm a bit peckish. (Not especially in a mood to drive to Wisconsin, but then, my decision making goes to hell when I need to suck down some nuts.)

Lo and begoddamhold, I inhabited the thrice virginal Brisket (h/t Tengrain's never-out-of-the-shrinkwrap menagerie of loonies) Palin

She was reflective, diarizing, having Tripp help her with her multiplication tables. But she then, mindlessly doodling, wrote this:

The Northern Lights shine
Above my ankles, glowing
Fuck, is he done yet?

Wow. I... Beautiful.

And then I bought some Combos.

Bloggie Business

Firstest of all. Read this. Listen to your damn body. Treat it right, unlike, say, me.

Firster of all, Imma hoping to be posting more for a while. Finally. I know. Probably some blogroll changes as some people have dropped of the map. Which brings us to

Firsterest of all, please welcome friend of paleo Teh Burgemeester to the wide world of porn errr, Internet Newsletters. He's a good shit, smarter than I am (bastard), and his first post is far better researched than most of my polemics about Bigfoot, Lindsey Graham, and Bigfoot/Lindsey Graham slashfic.

You're welcome for the last image I put in your head. Send complaints to 1060 West Addison Street, Chicago, IL 60613.


Thursday, June 25, 2015

I Think Scott Walker Is Making Certain Moves, Politically...

So That He May Better Run For The Presidency

Scott Walker, Goggle-Eyed Humonculus Currently Running The Koch Brother's Subsidiary Formerly Know As The State Of Wisconsin (h/t the brilliant Mr. Charles Pierce), has just overturned the already sort of completely toothless Wisconsin law mandating a 48 hour waiting period to possess a handgun after inquiry into a purchase.

Almost certainly one of the priorities he spoke about in his gubernatorial run in 2014.

However, I do have a bit of a confuzzling over his likely governing philosophy. Lemme see if I got this straight.

A woman has a pregnancy that has issues - either the embryo/fetus is of questionable viability, or she feels she cannot provide a secure environment for the eventual child, or she just does not want to have a baby.

She has made this decision. Her decision. No one, no matter their opinion on the pro-choice/forced birth spectrum, makes this decision lightly, no one has a girlfriend's afternoon with Panera's/manicure/abortion.

Walker would now have her wait 72 hours, 72 hours of small-governmentally-enforced lobbying by her ob/gyn, or goddamn lunicidal xtians, 
about the goings-on in her genitalia, or 72 hours to drive four hours home and then 4 hours back, before she can have an abortion.

Gotcha, boss. But, ummm...

Then, point the second.

I have a neighbor, who has moles. His moles go into my finely manicured lawn and create unsightly proof that there are moles in my lawn. This communist bastard neighbor refuses to deal with his moles. My finely manicured lawn, which I prize above all other things, is endangered by lumbricus-istic rodents. My lawn, just to be clear. I love my lawn. I've made love to my lawn. Shut up.

So my neighbor must die, repeatedly if necessary.

I can now go to Bob's Compensation Shop. "Bob's - Where We Don't Know Or Care About Our Inventory, Screw The Blackamoor In The House For Real Americans! Our Deals And Our Customers Are Crazy!!!"

I ask Bob, the proprietor, actually Bob The Third, as palindromes are extremely easy to remember the spelling of - it's a heritage thing. I says to Bob, Bob, I says, "I would like a Grock .814cal Varmint Molester Model 1776, 8 clips, and 4 boxes of fully metal jacketed rounds. I has a varmint problem, Bob, and I intend to fix it."

Bob says, "Certainly stranger, who I don't even rea-a-a-al-l-y have to check ID on, I'll just take this form that you can put anything on, like your name *snerk*, say, Bob Bobson, and send it off to the unreliable and slow federal website which I may have forgotten to sort of sign up for because in Wisconsin firearms dealer's licenses might actually be easier to get than the gun. Now, because yer very pale,

*Episode of eyeball Tourette's, in some areas it might be considered a couple of winks. Or epilepsy. Stroke, maybe. Freshly defibrillated? I recognize the gesture from my mirror this morning, and so I am comforted.*

do you need help carrying it out to your truck right at this moment because it's your right in Wisconsin to buy a gun without a waiting period, you're a lovely shade of white so I expect that the background check will be as pure as the driven snow?"

Twenty minutes later, my neighbor has been permanently corrected of the errors of his ways. Unfortunately, I forgot to stop at Home Depot for grub killer and an Earthway's manual spreader. Dammit! Fuck my life!

Ermmm...

Scott Walker feels MY pain. I need him for president now!

Monday, June 22, 2015

Either I Need More Drugs, Or - Eh, What's It Matter, This Is Messed Up

Okay.

Forget the false bands. I have a reason to go on.


UPDATED FOR EDITORIAL COMMENT:

The drummer elf kicks some ass.

That is all.

Paleo Productions Presents: Pale People Privilege

Dear Burger King,


You took some tough press for that. Really tough.

And, I mean, rightfully so, the decision makers at your corporate levels make me nostalgic for the good old days of tumbrels and gigantic cheese slicers.
*whisperwhisper*
My sweetie informs me that it's a French word, geeoteen. I ain'tn't so good with French, although I can generally find the wine. Oh, that's right, you now have people who speak French working for you! Huzzah! Well, enough pleasantries. Hang on to your pantaloons:

I haz your new ad campaign!!

Please to be paying muchness for it, I'm thinking mid-six figures?

Love, 

paleo

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Now, to be serious:

ARE YOU SODDING SERIOUS?

Parkour-boy, in McKinney, TX, attempts to throttle an unarmed, bikini-clad teen-ager, and you know he'd have shot her friends if the other cops hadn't talked him down. AND THEY. DID. NOTHING. WRONG.

Now you've got Lew Rockwell Jr., killing 9 damn people, and you not only handle the little sonuvabitch with the softest of kid gloves, he's peckish, so you buy him fast food?

And the conservatives actually want to know why us loony libs think the American Justice system is terminal?