Sunday, November 20, 2016

Cheetoh Hitler Abandons Wife And Some Spawn

Couple of stories I must address, because although I am a somewhat vicious polemicist, I kinda value accuracy and fairness. Linking on a phone is difficult, but you've seen the stories about Hairpiece McSyphilis not knowing that he had to staff the White House, and that Methylsulfate was staying in New York with the youngest orange child?
Goddammit, don't make me approach defending this bewigged asshole AT ALL, but I have to say a couple things... Don't worry, there is an attack at the end, 'cuz me.
Teh Orange STD, for worse (and, unfortunately for us, better - he got elected sort of), refused to hire any of the sorts of professional political people who know about things like staffing the White House. President Obama probably did not know that either, but he had actual knowledgeable people around him who did, ie. not anyone named Omarosa.
Malaria demonstrated that she is well out of her depth - even Laura Bush, a largely apolitical woman (no, not entirely, I know), was a much more effective campaign representative for Pres. DryDrunk McOedipalComplex than Melanoma was for her husband. She, deservedly so, got blasted repeatedly. Maybe she has just recognized her limitations. Maybe she just wants to hide. Not really an option for FLOTUS, but perhaps. I don't have a great deal of sympathy, but teh human brain etc. etc.
BUT: huge anger about the child staying in NYC. Most pols put their kids in Sidwells because it is already set up and equipped for a presidential level security detail, and it is a normal situation for all the kids there. Now, we, the taxpayers, have to lash out that fantastic amount of money to do it for some private school in NYC, disrupting the hell out of everything and everybody, for a likely 5 mo. period? Fuck that. 

Friday, October 14, 2016

The Cheerleading Post

We are very close to being terminally screwed.

Yes, paleo is squeaking about the 2016 election cycle.

Briefly, let’s review. I was on Team Sanders. (Yes, you may kill me for using that phraseological construction. Please wait until I vote.) I had no particular issue with Sec’y Clinton, other than she has always seemed to be somewhat to the right of me. I didn’t expect Sen. Sanders to win, he is not nearly the politician she is (to get elected, being a competent politician is helpful, and I will not use the word ‘politician’ as a pejorative – Keith Ellison is a polished politician, as is Russ Feingold, as is President Obama. Being a bad person does not comment upon your political skills; it just says you’re a douchebag, or a ‘Ryan’), and he got stomped (yes, stomped – by 3 million primary votes, and by being nearly shut out in states that had primaries, as opposed to caucuses). However, I believed he would be invaluable in pulling the Democratic Party back to the left. In general, save the gun thing, I preferred his politics.

Sec’y Clinton won the nom, and I’m fine with that. DO NOT GET OVERCONFIDENT, but I expect her to win. I’m fine with that. Actually, learning more about her during this run (there is a Frontline biography on her, part of a special on both candidates' biographies) that shows her to be quite a remarkable person. And hearing her on the stump, and watching her on the debates, I’m content.

Trump was, remains, and will continue to be a human shitnado, assault/pedophilia/creepitude allegations or not, he’s a monster. Everyone knew this even before the recent revelations, including Malaria, but don’t cry for her, she’s getting her silver. He could be a saint around women, but every other aspect of his life STILL shows him to be a jackal. This ‘alpha-male’ shit is the fucking awful capstone, but he was never human in the first place.

Gary Johnson may be the single least informed, deliberately least curious public figure of today. Dumb as a brick. And fucking evil. Jill Stein has a coterie of assistants with metering equipment to make sure there are no aerosolized vaccines in her air supply. Evan McMullin? No. Srsly. Who in hell is Evan McMullin?

"Bloody hell, paleo, you seem almost vaguely upbeat! Why, then, would consider us to be near existential fuckitude?"

Glad you asked.

There is the obvious. The worthless hillbillies who would throw themselves in front of a train for Trump, if only so SmallHands could grab their daughters’ genitalia, ain’tn’t going gently into that good night. These people are freaks, violent, and frequently armed. They will not accept a Trump loss (“oh oh oh it was fixed by n****r Jewish sp**s who want to teach f****t evolathiesm to our white children”), they will respond in the only way they know – lashing out and trying to kill anything that scares them. With education, there is hope for their grandchildren, but a 60 year-old skinhead-in-all-but-name cannot be reasoned with.

What must be added, and is in fact the more important issue, is on the meta-level. With Sec’y Clinton having a respectable lead and a likely win by the scientific poll aggregators, I have been hearing the folks in my camp say things to the effect of ‘Okay, soon it will finally be over’.

No, it won’t soon be over.

Democracy does not end at the voting booth. And we all have to hold everyone's feet to the fire. Always. Building a civil society is a crappile of work. We must all stay involved, constantly, starting right at the local level.

Let your school board know that religion and education don't mix. Let your city council know about that needed stoplight and upgraded sewer system. Let your state rep know that MN needs statewide broadband and public transportation. Let your federal reps know that everyone on Wall Street is scum and needs to go to jail until they can be swept up and put in a dustbin. Were Sen. Sanders to have become the President, I'd be screaming at him daily about guns.

Keep pushing every day.

When you vote, go home, and say, ‘okay, done my duty’, you fail democracy. If everyone votes, goes home, and says, okay, done my duty’, democracy fails.

There are a helluva lot more people on Team Terminally Screwed (again, words do not lend themselves to goddammit Twilight-fan memes. Kill me on November 9).

Vote, you bastards. (Vote Democratic at all levels should be understood, but nevertheless, vote.) And then start calling and writing. We have emails – no more stamps, folks. Phone plans with unlimited minutes. Supporters of Sen. Sanders – he made an amazing showing. If you want the D’s to move left, take that energy and get involved. Stay involved. Run for dog-catcher, then city council, then mayor, then Congress, and keep going so I can crabass at you electronically in 10 years. I’m old and tired, and can only give some campaign money and write this nonsense to my audience of 3.1415927 individual readers, so work hard for Uncle paleo in his dotage. Please.

First, though, start with voting.

Thursday, September 22, 2016

Politics Is The Art Of Turning Lunacy Into Policy

Seeing a lot of Democratic Party cannibalism these days. What the hell I don't even...

So, I supported Sanders through most of the primary, he in fact won the MN primary. I did this knowing that he was not and never would really be a member of the Democratic Party (Sec'y Clinton has done the rubber chicken circuit for Dems for years) and knowing he was a gunhumper (Sec'y Clinton is very much not). I preferred the rest of his platform to hers, knowing that it was mostly aspirational, and would at least pull the Party back from the center, which, given the Overton window, is pretty horrible. No we were never getting free college and single-payer after one election. Never. Nope. It will take several cycles and some damn actual Democrats in Congress. Politics simply doesn't work that way, and frankly representative democracy has worked pretty damn well over time, all things considered.

The other option? The REVOLUTION? Bullshit.

You know what happens in a revolution? A shitpile of people get hurt badly, and they are, French Revolution notwithstanding, usually the powerless. Would I like to see a guillotine permanently installed on Wall Street? Hells yeah. But that will happen when I grow a tail.

I didn't turn on Senator Sanders until the end of primary bullshit, when, after he'd won the platform battle, he still pouted. And a significant number, maybe 15-20%, of his supporters (Jill 'Science is just an illuuuusion.' Stein

and Gary Johnson? Have you actually read his CV and the Libertoonian Party Platform?) are still pouting. Politics is WORK, y'all. Dreaming is good, but without translating dreams into a metric fuckton of ridiculously hard work over a pretty fair period of time, it remains dreams. The rewards go to those who show up.

The monsters on the right wing? Both the Deplorables and the Executives? They've been showing up without fail for 45 years. And anyone who guarantees Senator Sanders would be ahead at this point is delusional. It would be close, he might have even been slightly ahead for some time because Trump is a sociopath, just really that bad, Stop-And-Frisk you racist motherfucker? You know, where we are right now. But we'd hear commercial after commercial of SSOOOOSHULISSTTICISM (as opposed to commercial after commercial of SHE HAS PARKINSONAIDSEBOLAHYSTERICALPREGNANCY) and Americans are easily led and lied to. I don't know how Sec'y Clinton would perform as President; I like the party platform, I don't listen to the right wing smear machine (dumbass bastards have brought up Vince Foster again??!), certainly she wouldn't be as conciliatory as President Obama, and about damn time someone takes a stick to the Republican curs, but she (or a President Sanders) would still have to work with a Republican House (Senate seems to be a near-tossup, dammit Nate Silver) and politics as a nasty game where no-one gets their wishlist. 


President Trump with a Republican House and Senate, at which point Ryan and McTurtle will cream in their jeans, possibly together, big ol' goddamn 'IT"S PAYDAY!!!' circle-jerk, and throw every right wing fascist fantasy up knowing that Trump will sign anything for them. That's why most modern establishment Pubs haven't actually come out against Trump, they may not like him but he'll do no actual work as President except sign anything put in front of him.

My two cents, meh.

Sunday, September 18, 2016

Open Packer Thread On A Phone? This May Suck But It's Stuff


Game starts at 7:30, Packers-Queens. So, predictions. 

In the new goddamn Sand-Crawler Stadium, which is why this game will be closer than is necessarily comfortable, teh Home Opener©®™ of the new money pit. Packers 23 - MN 20. 

Sam Bradford has a strong accurate arm, brains of tapioca, and a receiving corps that could be shut down by a Div. II high school. Should be weird. 

Sweetie will waggle her fingers at Rodgers as if he will notice through the TV, leave the field, drive the 3 miles to my house and take her away from a life of endless paleononsense. Protip: he won't. Second protip: no, he's not cute either.  

Imma be back on here at about 7. Probably have to do this as a comment thing. TTFN!

Monday, August 15, 2016

And The Goddammit Beat Goes On.

Our house is a one-man crime wave. Oh, and fuck metaphors.

We had a break-in a week ago. Late Sunday night. We were out like the proverbial LED fixture, maybe 1:30am. Jaxson started barking. This is not unusual, he’d been squabbling with the cats earlier, but he’d gone upstairs, Sweetie and I were vaguely conscious now, so she went up to let him out or yell at the cats or let the cats out and yell at him or it was 1:30am, who the hell knows.

Sweetie got to the top of the steps and noticed the door from the house to the garage was open. Her first concern was the cats getting out so she checked the main garage door, it was closed, phew, she could get some treats to get the cats back in.

Then she noticed one cat was still in the kitchen and the passage door from the garage was propped open with a gallon jug of distilled water. Very uncatlike behavior. Her brain was defuzzing now, and she checked the other house doors, a light was on in the living room but the door was closed – the back door of the house, out to the yard, was wide open, yard lights were on. She came down and got me, said “I think someone’s been in the house”, suddenly now I’m quite wide awake, I grabbed a bat*, we went upstairs, Jaxson staying with us, house is devoid of bastard, into the living room, both laptops were gone, she’s already calling the cops. I, in retrospect stupidly, alone, went out to check the vehicles. Both were fine but my truck was unlocked, I suck at life, by the way, fuck me, the garage door opener was gone, along with an old iPhone I was using basically as an iPod. My wallet had been gone through but only about $15 in cash taken, the wallet was left with all cards and ID, another $20 taken off the counter. Jaxson is a goddamn hero. He has been treated and treat-ed really damn well for a week. It was pretty clear Jaxson had chased he/she/them off and they just grabbed the most obvious shit. Why didn’t Jaxson react immediately? He/she/they did have a couple minutes, to open a second door, turn on some lights. Our guess is that because we have a rather jangled family lifestyle, someone coming in at 1:30am is not always particularly unusual, at least, it used to be not particularly unusual, and he wouldn’t go nuts immediately, but he undoubtedly dragged hisself up and went upstairs expecting skritches and found it was not someone we knew. Jaxson is a goddamn hero, is what I’m saying. He was up there with Sweetie while I was still trying to figure out what socks are. Goddammit.

So the police came, I used my phone to change every password for every site I used for my laptop, I didn’t do any business on it thank FSM because I don’t trust electronic business practices, and hers was password protected, so I’m not extraordinarily worried, just ordinarily worried, about ID theft. So very angry at myself.

Many steps are being taken, we are getting a monitored system and I’ve done some security upgrades and doing more, but mostly we have to use caution. How do we do that without feeling like prisoners within our own homes? Don’t know. I have had a week of poor sleep, paranoia, savage revenge and booby-trap fantasies in my brain, and I don’t like it, really don’t like brain right now. It could have been infinitely worse, I’m under no illusions, there is some #privilege speaking, I know, we have good lives. By the way, you can’t buy razor wire commercially. Life continues, we’re relaxing some. Watched a movie called ‘Ogre’, so our sense of humor is returning. She’s been through this before, many years ago, I have not, she’s hardly overjoyed but I’m taking it worse and angrier, she’s just pushing the solutions. I married well out of my league.


*I work with any number of gun-nuts, and haven’t told them about this, because I don’t want the conversation with them that I had with a friend who CC’s, but he’s not a sociopath. I don’t have a handgun. Still ain’t gonna get a handgun. Hate the filthy things, don’t want them in the house. The furthest I’ve even thought in that direction is getting a beanbag barrel for the shotgun, still not entirely out of the question, but she really doesn’t like the thought. A big part of the reason I don’t want a goddamn gun in the house is exactly the situation we had that night. Sleep-fuzz plus confusion plus sudden adrenaline burst plus artificial penis equals fucking disaster. And suppose the other party had a gun as well? With them wide awake, alert, and having the, to use a stupid term, ‘drop’ on me? To my friend, I started to say “When you have a gun, you have to be prepared to-“ and my friend finished “-use it.” “No”, I said, “to kill.” I’m not prepared to kill over a couple old computers, and if he/she/they had hurt my wife or pets, I don’t care what they are armed with, with my last breath I would have shown them their own throat. This criminal was just looking to grab and go, it seems there is a (professional?) ring of these bitches hitting the TCs right now, people in the house, people not in the house, always looking to go in through the garage, and there are detectives working on it, we’ve found out, so they’re taking it quite seriously, our stuff is long gone but everyone is safe. A gun would only have escalated the situation to very conceivably deadly proportions. Fuck that and fuck gun-nuts and fuck guns.

Friday, July 29, 2016

Seventy-Five Thousand Hits! And Some Actual Stuff...

Several dozen of which are not from pornbots! Yay ME!

Okay, so I'm a happy democrat. I believe we are better than the cons, and I want us to be better. I was a Senator Sanders supporter, we lost the primary, but won the platform. So I'm With Her. I reject the social view of the cons, that people are evil and require a Bearded Sky-Daddy or a three-year-under-the-car-seat Cheetoh to keep us, well, a certain some of us, in line, and believe that working together, truly together, we can be better still. (Naive, huh. YMMV, I sleep well, fuck you.) I believe in redemption, not in the religious sense (while my own beliefs are plentiful, if perhaps a tetch out of the mainstream, I do not believe in Religion™), but in the sense that you can rejoin the Human Race.

Why the prelude? I have a couple notes on redemption.

Yesterday I listened to an interview yesterday with a gentleman named Michael Brodkorb, who used to be a highly mucked mucky-muck in the Minnesota Republican structure.  He was a bad man. No worse than most Republicans, so verrrrry bad. The MN Pub Party at the time of his deputy chairmanship was responsible for a lot of evil. Then he was brought down brutally. (The above link addresses the general outline). Hey, won't lie, I was happy. Ecstatic, even. Then he nearly waxed hisself in a car accident. Hey, I won't lie, I'M NOT A REPUBLICAN. I DO NOT CELEBRATE DEATH. Well, he started, while stating that he remained a Republican, and not really apologizing for his past as an arsonist, a bit of a public, penance?, um, re-branding perhaps? (to be cynical, which I'm trying to stop doing), less obviously partisan, more analytical of communications strategies. And he found a case, a case of parental interference with custody, which was no more and no less than kidnapping and giving children to slavers, the Sandra Grazzini-Rucki case. His work (best source is Missing In Minnesota, his blog aggregating his reporting on this case) helped blow it open, and she was just convicted.

He hasn't spoken of his political affiliation recently that I could find, and if he remains Republican, I am certainly more likely to disagree with him than agree, but he seems to have achieved some legitimate level of purpose, seems to be sane, and to be clear, is 11,468% on the good side here.

This is a path to real redemption.


There have been a couple stories in the last couple of DNC convention days about national Republicans at least applauding, never agreeing with but being satisfied with, the Democratic National Convention. Other stories this morning have cons slapping down the Coultergeist for her tweet about the family of Capt. Humayan Khan, a soldier who saved his unit at the cost of his life, speaking at the DNC. She sweetly pointed out that OH MY GOD AN ACCENT.

Erick SonofErick'sonsonrick, author if the philosophical treatise 'David Souter is a goat-fucking child molester' was outraged, OUTRAGED, by teh Human Chew Toy insulting Muslims. Amanda Carpenter, accused by Donald Trump of boinking overripe canteloupe Ayatollah Cruz, says 'gee, the DNC has found religion'.


ALL THESE PEOPLE LOVE EVERYTHING TRUMP SAYS. They wish they had the balls or vag to say it out loud theyselves (well, I guess Erickson usually does, but eyewash). You too, Zombie-Eyed Granny Starver Paul Ryan. Carpenter worked for Sen. James Inhofe, climate change denier extraordinaire. John Podhoretz, (son of Norman Podhoretz, an early neo-con who never met a Palestinian genocide that he disliked or an african-american he liked), an EARLY SCOTT WALKER fan who also called Marco Useless Rubio "Perhaps the best extemporaneous political speaker of our time", thereby showing off his political instanks.

At best, these filthy monsters have a basic, gutter understanding of the political winds and want to preserve their 'reputations'. On the continuum, several of those quoted had other horses in the race than Trump and are hoping for their instanks to be hailed as the best extemporaneous political instanks of our time. At the other end of the spectrum, at the worst, they are trying to drive wedges into the Democratic support, "Oh, look, Killary is a Republican, all you filthy hippies are having your rights tarnished, Bernie could have beat Trump with ??? and progress". Ratfucking 101. (And it will work on Susan Sarandon.)

This is NOT redemption, or suddenly being fair, or being tempered with age. I'd never expect them to go full liberal, but one can become sane. These people do not disagree ONE WORD with the Flatulent Baboon, or Coultergeist.

They may understand optics well enough to realize his convention was a shitstorm of extraordinary magnitude, but they don't disagree with a Single. Fucking. Word.

Thursday, July 28, 2016

News Thingies

Dateline: Philadelphia
July 26, 2016

Melania Trump To Speak Later This Week: "I Have Some New Thoughts"

Dateline: Moscow
July 27, 2016

Putin In Hospital With Orange Hand: Says Spox, "He Had It Stuck In Something"

Dateline: Indianapolis
July 27, 2016

Pence: "My God, My God, Why Hast Thou Forsaken ME"

Dateline: Pensacola, FL
July 28, 2016

Stolichnaya Truck Stolen

Tragic Baboon Deaths At Pensacola Zoo: Keeper "I've Never Seen This Sort Of Savagery", "Didn't Know You Could Do That With A Salad Tongs"

Fmr Gov Jeb Bush In Hospital, "Exhaustion": Says Dr. Rudolph Hilter, Family Physician

Sunday, July 17, 2016



The new Ghostbusters is out. For months, many so-called 'men' have been complaining about wrecked childhoods because cooterdust. Or whatever. Most of these so-called men lack personal experience with, ummm, well, really, women in general, much less mouth-to-ladybits communication. Also these so-called men are dipshits who should be encouraged to explore the effects of diesel tailpipes upon scuba mouthpieces. The original was quite funny, I had the T-shirt myself. But, it was not Young Frankenstein. Quit witcher dog-whistles, we know what you are saying, own it you punkass bitches.

While I was not enthused by the first trailer, the pieces that have leaked out have been better. I had been likely to see it. I don't know the actresses save Melissa McCarthy, and I'm not particularly a fan, she's ok, wevs. I enjoy light science fiction/comedy in general, including one of my all-time favorite films:

  • I. Loved. The Last Starfighter. I will go full DeathBlossom on anyone who disagrees, because they are failed at evolution. Always trust Centauri. 

Meteorologically speaking, Twister sucks on ice, but I'll watch it anytime I see it's on. Hell, I even rather enjoyed Evolution; bugger off.

Reviews so far have been basically, "If you're not expecting Citizen Kane, or even Candy Cane's First Lesbian Macramé Adventure, you'll have some fun. Don't overthink it, just enjoy it." So fine.

"But paleo, after saying it looks okay, you are saying that you had been likely to see it. Now you're not. Typical libtard cuck commie islamist elitist zionist fascist, uhhh, beta, respective vaginas, hah gotcha, Trump!" Well, oh Dweller In The Basement, the movie still looks fine. It's going to make the Netflix list, but:

Whilst waiting for Sweetie to get ready to go to the Co-op, I am watching The Mummy (w/ Brendan Frasier - again, as long as ya don't think too hard, enjoyable as all get out), and commercial breakage comes up. Oh, my, errr, it's ahhh, Ghostbusters tie-in, pizza, ohfuckfuckFUCK Papa John's, with the goddamn criminal filth Schnatter dressed in teh Beige Coveralls.

I realize, I do, that all marketing departments are useless gits, and given the job of promoting Citizen Kane, or Candy Cane Visits A KY Factory With Six Portable Generators And A Funk Band, would put out a line of action figures. And I'd buy the full Candy Cane Collection. The marketing team doesn't care about the movie, especially arthouse films like the Candy Cane series. The production team does not get too involved on the marketing end, other than direct promotion of the movie. Production holds no part in what I am about to say.

I cannot reward, in any way, any product, that would in any form, allow itself, either directly or indirectly, to be associated with a bloodthirsty monster like John Schnatter. If there is such a thing as universal justice, he would be in the first group up in the dock for crimes against humanity and the American worker. Fuck him, fuck his corporate board, fuck Peyton Manning. He needs to be in Supermax until he can be swept up and put in a dustbin.

And anyone who can stand his quasi-pizza needs a tastebud transplant. Jes' sayin'.

Monday, June 13, 2016

Posted With Several Damn Comments

I'm sick of it. So genuinely sick of it.

Innocents dead. Wasted. Perforated. Just out to have a good time, and because OMGWTFBBQBUTTSEX they had to die. People with families. Friends. Pets. Employers. Clubs. Dead. I have no connection except for being human, but I'm not sure I like that label too much anymore. Because humans suck. We suck. Virus with shoes indeed.

Churches celebrated yesterday. The death of gays, an awful lot of them Latino, at the hands of a brown guy, who could not be directly tied to Pat Robertson. They hallalujahed until they were hoarse.
The gun manufacturers ramped up the AR-15 lines again, they're going to sell a metric balls-ton of them in the next few days.
The republican candidate for president took credit for predicting this, then accused President Obama of, of course, another 'false-flag jihad taquito birthghazi.'

I wonder sometimes how these subhuman bastards sleep at night, and realize, with pain in my brain, that they sleep pretty well. There is death, beautiful, beautiful death, of people who ain't them. They sleep great. They have well oiled penis replacements tucked under their pillows or inside their shorts, and they sleep like babies.

(Disclaimer: Image is not mine, and I can't make out the artist. If anyone knows Imma happy to give him full credit, 7000pt. font and the contents of my wallet, 'cuz they's a whole buncha damn prophets. I apologize in advance about the contents of my wallet, mostly receipts, a few cigar wrappers, and a credit card of dubious provenance and dubiouser value.)

Sunday, May 8, 2016

In Which paleo Messes With Evil

Combination squirrel feeder/dog entertainment system.


Are We Pathetic Or Do We Just Need A Juicebox And A Nap

Fuck us. Genuinely.

Every country in the world, save us, should get together right now.

Have a nice spare rib dinner, with sauerkraut, sauteed cauliflower colliettes, and fresh salad, kale, radishes, scallions, and a basil-infused olive oil with strawberry-apple cider vinegar. Finish with a nice snifter of Amrut.

And then turn the surface of the United States to glass.

What may provoke paleo to continental annihilation this time?

  • Could it be Small Hands*? 
  • Berniebaggers? 
  • Sarah Palin swearin' on her lief that she will defeet Paul Ryan you betcha**?
  • Yet another revelation that Joe Paterno knowingly enabled Jerry Sandusky to rape an unknown number of prepubescent boys at Penn State, but now taking the timeline back to 1976?!?!
No. Actually, this morning's desire is due to television.

Newton Minow was early in describing TV as a vast wasteland - were he alive today, he'd be really, really, spectacularly old. Oh, and speechless. Because really, really, holy fucking old. TV in the United States may not take the actual prize, but we do suck. Nineteen Fondlings and Counting***. Jimmy Fallon. Seven different cake shows - 216 wedding shows - coming soon: The Divorce Show with Kim Davis. The entire TruTV network. We're no shrinking violets when it comes to digital quaalude.

But Imma thunkin' this is a new level.

After seeing the commercial, oh yes I did have to look up this broadcast venereal disease.
In “Arranged,” three couples from different cultural backgrounds have one thing in common – the belief in arranged marriages. From a young Romani gypsy couple in New York City, to a southern couple from the Bible belt, to a couple raised by traditional Eastern Indian parents living in Los Angeles – these brides and grooms don’t just marry each other, their unions include their entire family. Viewers will see each couple’s relationship from the lead-up to their weddings, to the several months after the reality of married life sinks in. 
Even though the marriages stemmed from the heart of their culture, the marital stakes are heightened as the couples do not have the level of intimacy common in most modern marriages. For some, it will be tough to give up their independence and their new roles as husband and wife prove to be more than they bargained for. Pregnancy scares, money concerns and over-protective parents will add even more stress to an already overwhelming situation. Viewers will learn compelling relationship advice as they watch these unique journeys and find out if these couples hold the key to a long-lasting marriage by being arranged.
Their description.


to the several months after the reality of married life sinks in? 

the marital stakes are heightened as the couples do not have the level of intimacy common in most modern marriages?

Viewers will learn compelling relationship advice as they watch these unique journeys and find out if these couples hold the key to a long-lasting marriage by being arranged.?

In a number of my kultursturm posts, I'd now pivot, I'd say let's ignore the unbelievable underlying fundamentalist religion crap, the control issues, the wild goddam misogyny, and attack a a prime mover if one seemed detectable. Nope.

The fundamentalist religion crap, the control issues, and the wild goddamn misogyny ARE THE PRIME MOVERS. Jesus H Christ playing piano at the Bunny Ranch, this is GENUINELY SICK.

The couples pushed together, undoubtedly at the behest of religious leaders, by cultish parents, do not have the level of intimacy as a couple who went out, willingly, to White Fucking Castle, and Jellystone park, and then figured out they own bad selves how to proceed. I know, what a stupid fucking notion. Couples holding the key to a long-lasting yada yada in an event they had no play in?

Children, and particularly in our society, young women, are not a commodity, to be traded or used as bargaining chips for family mergers. These young people will, must, have to, at some point, unless the new married couple is locked in Daddy-In-Law's basement, grow up, and they are soon going to, have to, must, do some self-evaluation.

And guess what. There's a serious chance they are going to be distinctly pissed off.
There is an equal chance they are going to be seriously broken.
There is a better than equal chance they are going to be both.
If the marriage survives, and I actually kind of hope it does, I'm a romantic, I believe in love, my wife walks on the ground I worship, it will be by dint of massive amounts of work, or unfathomable delusion.

So, yeah, the makers of this show? Find a nice, quiet, island. Google maps, your friend. Pack up, move there. Take up cannibalism.

 Again, we've been here. Nineteen Assaults and Counting. The show, in and of itself, is NOT the reason the United States needs to be leveled and the earth salted.

The commercial was for ARRANGED: S2.

*also Clapton's worst album, it sounded as if he difficulty with the solos
** I mean, go for it, you meth-addled plastic-surgery-addicted sociopath with a bright future of decaying in a rocking chair while Gargle argues with you and needs to keep plunging the blood in the shower
***so, that was on for what, 3 years, times average 22? episodes, times 39.42 people in the house, ummm, carry the pi, HOLY GODDAMNIT THAT SHOW WAS ON FOR 24,007 HOURS. GAHHH.

It's Alive! IT'S ALIVE!

Okey Dokey.


As pointed out by OBS in the previous comments (and now verified by me), Toyotas are apparently beasts - the truck moved 4 feet before anything useful was bent. It ended up being solely body work. And the car owner's insurance was current, so other than inconvenience and a near aneurysm, it's all good.

For me.

Now, I've received the police report. As of a few days ago (when the report was received), the other screwball has not been found. As far as the young lady, no, Imma not out her. But, the facts of the case:

  • 20 years old
  • 15 year old sister in the car
  • suspended license
  • hit and run/leaving the scene of the accident
  • underage drinking
  • DWI, with the sister in the car
Lady, I'm sorry that the dude beat you, I'm angry AS HELL you drove through yards in residential neighborhoods, pretty damn unhappy you hit my truck. Shocking, I expect. But shit, you've torched yourself, and you're still so damn young.

Please take the opportunity to realize that, hey, this is fucky, gotta fix it.

Wednesday, April 20, 2016

Ban the Pontiac Grand Am

So, this happened.

Monday, after work, I went out into my driveway to work on my boat, taking off the winter tarp and putting on the summer cover, getting the batteries in. As I worked outside, Jaxson, the 82# dogfood recycling machine, sunbathed on the driveway. I found that one of my batteries had spring a leak, and so halted work at that point, a smidge pissed, but wevs, I'll get another battery. C'mon, Jax, inside.
I left the main front door open, Sweetie would be home soon and Jax likes to look out the storm door.

About a half an hour later, as I am mixing the dogfood into the incredibly arcane mixture that Sweetie has decreed her boy get, Jax started raising a ruckus, but not like 'Mom's home!!1!eleventyone!' I looked out front.

There was a young(-ish? not sure) man out in my driveway. As I went to the door, I heard an engine rev, and the guy took off between my truck and my boat. 

A red car slammed, seriously, slammed, into my truck. Maybe 30 miles an hour and judging by the engine rev, accelerating.


The car backed off, tore ass out of my driveway, across a curb, a street, another curb, a lawn. I was grabbing my phone and memorizing the plates as the car disappeared. At this point, I was confuzzled and pissed. Called 911, reported as I went outside. Most of my immediate neighbors were on the way to my driveway. At least one other was on his phone, presumably 911-ing.

All the following photos are by Sweetie - I'll explain later in the post, but at this point I was a goddamn puddle, literally.

The approach:

Looking at these photos, regrettably, she did not get a good photo of the front of the truck, I'll update when I get home, but here's a close-up - the black bar is the frame.

I'm not a mechanic by any stretch, but I see I'm not hemorraghing fluids, so I suspect the truck will start and run. However, and this is why I should get a better picture of the truck, the tires are seriously askew, and while I'm not entirely sure, the whole front end looks, umm, offsies. I have internal concerns about the future of the vehicle, but it still needs to be appraised. (That story will be here shortly...)

The dude is the sweater is my neighbor, pointing at where my truck had been at the start.

Third party information, from other neighbors:
There seems to be some backstory. The neighbor above, with his wife, and others, had seen the occupants of the car, two women and a man, stop on our block, apparently arguing, and one woman and the man got out and were fistfighting on another neighbor's lawn. He was already on 911 for that. The fight seems to have ended, and only the woman returned to the car and she started driving off, he started walking off. She said something to him, and he opened her car door and started beating on her, then started running. She followed. Onto my lawn and etc. etc.etc.

While the cops were at my place a woman from a block down came to tell the cops that someone was chasing a man across lawns on her street and the man had stolen someone's bicycle and this is a kid intensive area and oh, it seems you already know about it. 

After my initial anger I'd said "and my dog was right there 30 minutes ago and" paleo was done. I went into quasi-freakout - my dog is my kid, you know, and I am famously bleeding heart commie-lib-stanian but if you hurt kids or animals your ticket should be punched, and if you hurt my dog/kid I'll do the punching. So other than telling the cop what I saw, Sweetie had come home, and she handled things. 

Aside: Not 10 minutes before this I'd asked Sweetie to pick me up a six pack, I'd worked hard on the boat, and she later said, "I thought you really needed that beer now, and maybe a bottle of Xanax, but if I gave you that beer at that point the cop would have been thoroughly convinced he'd gone to WhitetrashWood". My dog had been right there. I'd been on the boat. Fucking christ.

So, by 8pm, everything, including most of paleo, had calmed down. Dinner plans had changed from Southwestern style omelets to ham sandwiches. About 9, the neighbor stopped by, my phone was off, the police had called, they'd put an all-MN BOLO on the car, and picked her up (hammered) in Circle Pines, about 30 minutes away. The cop who handled my case went to pick her up and interviewed her, and of course she denied everything. He said we have three eyewitnesses who can identify you, I don't know who, no one Sweetie talked to said they'd had a good look, I didn't, the car windows were very tinted. But, in the lawn, he'd picked up a few plastic bitties, turned out to be press-on fingernails. He told her to hold out her hands and lo!, three missing pink press-on fingernails and she confessed.

As the man was initially running, he'd dropped something. His wallet. The neighbor above gave it to the cops and according to the lead cop his driver's license had him wearing the exact same hoodie we'd all described.

The driver was apparently unlicensed, the car was not hers. Unsure of the insurance situation. And we'd just changed insurance a couple weeks ago, but the State farm underwriters are apparently behind, so while we have insurance and have been assured we're covered, even if the deductible comes out of our pocket (again, unsure of the insurance situation of the car) (which will thoroughly infuriate me but infuriation is in my comfort zone), but they are scrambling with ours to get the 't's dotted so we can get the truck looked at, we're doing some scrambling but stuff happens. Arggh.

SO. Casualties. Again, I don't know, nor do I need to know, the backstory, but apparently she was seriously bruised. Whether from the beating or hitting a fucking pickup with a Grand Am I neither know nor care. She is facing DWI/Hit and Run and may face stronger charges based on trying to kill a guy. I don't know that he's been arrested yet, I'm certain as soon as he found out he'd lost his license he went underground. My truck? Uhhhh. Still need to have it looked at because of the underwriting stuff not being through yet, but I have, I believe legitimate, fears (IANAM) that it's gonna be a thing, and replacement value on a 5yr, 80k mile truck does not get me a new truck. My piece of mind? at the moment still queasy, this is a very diverse, friendly, family neighborhood, lot of kids, and this is certainly extraordinary, and Jax will not be on the driveway until paleo mellows the fuck out.

Anyhow, stuff.

Thursday, April 7, 2016

Who Is Qualified To Be President?

Okay, Imma blaming this one squarely on the goddamn Bernie Bros.

Senator Sanders claimed that Sec'y Clinton called him 'unqualified' in response to a Washington Post headline. One of his subcultures, who would be, in other election cycles, Naderites, or 'Dr. Jill Stein Or Bust', explodes with Clinton hatred.

But, Baby Jesus Christ at the Shrine Of The Six Foot Water Pipe, she never said that! 

The interviewer, Morning Intern-Killer, was fishing for her to say something like that and she didn't. So, now, is the Washington Post completely untrustworthy until it is? I have trouble keeping up with the daily party line.

She asked how he was going to shut down the banks, and while I completely agree with that goal and volunteer manacles and tumbrils, my plan involves violence, and tears, and lots of Vaseline. Also electric blenders. And other electric blenders for the tequila, as you really don't want to cross-contaminate a good margarita. What is Sen. Sanders' plan? 

I want free college tuition for the younger folks. My plan involves kangaroo courts, a sudden decrease in the population of Waltons, and a visible effect on the world's recycled copper market, so it is probably untenable. But what is Sen. Sanders' plan? 

I. Want. Single. Payer. Now. My plan involves a front-end loader, a JATO rocket, fourteen Hap-Kido masters, and a competency hearing before the World Court. They guard those JATO's like a son of a bitch. I, ummm, think. 

Please, Sen. Sanders, tell us the pissengutter plan. Tell us what you need us to do. And the next goddamn time I hear/read "Well, REVOLUTION!", I will fucking puke up my appendix.

I may be a savage old bastard socialist, but in my (near-)maturity, I don't have the time or extra energy for street theatre. I want to hear a fucking plan.

The Underpants Gnome theory (h/t Bob and Chez - Bubble Genius) doesn't work in the real world. The POTUS is not a dictator. I fucking love Sen. Sanders, (although I will be just fine with Sec'y Clinton) but c'mon, tell us what he intends to do because he ain't going to do it without us, and he is going to need one metric fuckton of work from us. He needs Democrats elected downballot, he'll need 70 Dem senators to get anything done (60 to beat the filibuster, but count on there being up to 10 or so worthless Blue Dogs), and he needs to flip 40-some seats in an unbelievably gerrymandered House and in the face of Republican Election fraud.

Sec'y Clinton, nothing in the previous paragraph does not apply to you. Give us a damn plan.

If we gotta be a goddam circular firing squad, could we at least point our vote-rifles outward?!?!

Tuesday, March 8, 2016

A 2016 Election Plea

Every comment section I look at nowadays is full of Democratic Party intramural squabbling. So. If I may:

Jesus Insane Amphibious Christ wearing a teddy, fucking fuck, we are so good at snatching defeat from the jaws of victory. Typical D circular firing squad. No wonder I hate people!

First of all, if you like Sen. Sanders, vote Sen. Sanders. If you like Sec'y Clinton, vote Sec'y Clinton. And then vote for whoever wins the primary. 

Driftglass' Law - Imma vote for Sanders in the primary, then for whoever he tells me to in the general. 
paleo's Addendum: I suspect it's not going to be Donald J Fucking Trump, accidental pregnancy as a result of anal sex Ted Cruz, or Marky Mark, the World's Oldest Justin Bieber Cosplayer.

Calling Sen. Sanders a starry-eyed unicorn fucker and hypocrite, on guns, whatever, ignores that fact that Senate proposals are very craftily made to screw all of us, and any Senator interested in the people needs to be nuanced, and make some lousy votes because the perfect is the enemy of the good. 

Hating Sec'y Clinton means you're responding to 25 years of smears by right-wing filth. She's a politician, not Vlad the Impaler.

Expecting either of them to work miracles ignores the fact that the President is not a dictator, and he/she will not have free rein. See: 
Motherfucking gerrymandering.

Second, either of them is more likely to respond to our applied pressure than any filthy RWNJ, who will not give a molecular shit.

We have to vote locally, and for legislatures and governorships, and then we have to keep fighting. 
Every. Single. Goddamn. Day. 

Every day, think of a good way to take a ten ton press (with votes) to the shit-filled melons of the Filth Party. 
Every day, think of a good way to keep the pressure on the people we elect to work our issues. If they know they won't get any pushback, anyone of them, they do dumbass things.

And THINK. Use your damn heads.

Saturday, March 5, 2016

Sportsperson Opens Yap. Stupid Ensues

Mike Ditka, former NFL coach and current sportsball analyst, went on a radio show and used vocal chords.

Let's roll the 1's and 0's.
Ditka went on WABC’s The Bernie & Sid Show on Thursday and told the hosts that “Obama’s the worst president we’ve ever had.” 
“Barack Obama’s a fine man,” Ditka said of the former Illinois State Senator. “I mean, he’s pleasant. He would be great to play golf with. He’s not a leader. This country needs leadership. It needs direction. It needs somebody that steps up front. We need somebody like Ronald Reagan. Every once in a while you’re gonna get punched in the chops but you keep going forward. That’s all there is to it.”
Let's ignore the 'play golf with' TeaBagger dogwhistle and go to
Every once in a while you’re gonna get punched in the chops but you keep going forward.
Ermmm. Geopolitical crises are getting 'punched in the chops.' Well over four thousand American military personnel dead, thousands more in some state of disability, and an unknown, unknowable number of dead civilians is getting 'punched in the chops'. Way to minimize real-world life-and-death, suffering, poverty, you serious, as in setting-the-new-standards-for-excremescence-achievement serious, piece of waste.

No one is able to achieve the level of Bear hatred as I can. This time, this is not the case. Ditka won a single Super Ball Bowl with a once-in-a-millenium defense. One. Eins. And was a simple salary suck every other place he was involved.

In that Super Ball Bowl he refused to give Walter Payton, the only Bear I could ever tolerate (but still not like), who had played brilliantly for years on teams that could not have beaten a Tebow-led Lions team, a guaranteed rushing TD, instead giving it to William 'the Refrigerator' Perry, to thumb his nose at everyone who called it a ridiculous draft pick*.

When it comes to rationality and judgement, yeahhhh, I think Imma go with President Obama.

Oh, yeah, and Lil' Mikey is a Trumpenfuhrer supporter. I'm shocked. Probably met at the same spray tan booth distributor.

Oh, yeah, and he wanted to be a senator in 2004, says he'd have beaten then-state-legislator Barack Obama. Probably would have, too, but it's Illinois. With two recent governors having spent time in (admittedly white-collar, and screw the 'Murkin justice system) Club Feds, a damn lot of Illinoyances earn the FIB** nickname honestly, and I also refudiate their rationality and judgement. (except for (DUCKWORTH SENATE 2016!!)

An Open Letter
Dear Mike Ditka (and, for that matter, Curt Schilling), 
There are reasons you are not well-known destinations for those who seek universal truthisms, why you have not been invested in the CERN project, why there are not schools of economics or political theories named after you. 
You were athletes, uneducated, largely incapable of functioning outside of the rarefied world of the American Entertainment Sphere. You have been blessed far more than you deserve because you had some sportsball talent. Take it for what it is and enjoy it, but leave the rest of us to solve the actual issues.  
And with any luck, we'll get to the Sportsball Industrial Complex soon enough. For example, there is a stadium going up in Minneapolis that some legislators need to go to jail for, and a worthless Sopranos cosplayer needs to be back-charged for. 
I wish nothing but misery and tragedy for you, and if your kids spit on you for being despicable human beings, Imma count one in the win column. 
Love, paleo

*To be fair, Perry eventually did become a passable defensive lineman. A better lineman than Tebow was a quarterback, a better professional football player than the Lions are a professional football team. Not squattle to do with Ditka.

**Thought I could make one single goddamn amphibian molesting post without cussing, didja? Fucking Illinois Bastards.

Sunday, February 28, 2016

The World's Dirtiest Word


I'll give my usual disclosure: Whatever you believe, great. If it helps you sleep better, if it makes you a better person, great.

That's faith.

Mine? Given the ridiculous stuff I believe on a daily basis, I can hardly call myself an atheist. I'm not certain what eschatology I fall into. One thing I'm positive of, I don't believe there's an old man with a book or iPad waiting for me to either:
a.) be good and so get to go listen to cherubim holler Ave Maria until I put a celestial nuclear weapon in my mouth, or;
b.) be sent to a pitchfork wielding Pan expy who has all the good musicians and a long pork barbeque.
I try to be a decent human to be a decent human.

Now. I am on the mailing list of the Minnesota Family Council. Most well known for being pro-bullyingespecially if gay kids die, it is a hard-right-wing political action committee. I stay on the mailing list because these people are dangerous as hell and it's a smart thing to keep an eye on the bastards. The CEO, John Helmberger, sends out pleas for money, prayers, action, and money. He asks for donations as well.

So, his latest 'testimonial', encouraging caucus participation, needs to be explored a bit. To begin, though, let's face it, this 'event' never happened. Lying for Jeebus.*

A Defining Moment at a Precinct Caucus

Only behave as citizens worthy of the gospel of Christ Philippians 1:27
The Red Words? Nope. Paul. Color me surprised, most evangelicals have never read the gospels. They like Paul and the Old Testament, books and letters what give them an excuse to kill. The Rabbi Yeshua ben-Yusef, if he existed, seems to have been pretty chill. Feed the poor, heal the sick, whomp the ever-loving hell out of bankers. Paul's a complete bastard.
As a university graduate student, I arrived late at the precinct caucus for my new neighborhood. The room was full, with standing room only, and I could barely find a place to squeeze in near the entrance. As it turned out, that was a good thing.
Okay, basically true. Political engagement is a great thing. Although I have major issues with the caucus process, preferring the primary system, good on you. Good on everyone who goes.
Having grown up in a politically active family, it was only natural, now that I was out on my own, that I also would participate in the grassroots process of debating and voting on issue resolutions, hearing from candidates, and choosing delegates to represent my neighbors and me at upcoming conventions where candidates would be endorsed.
 Again, engagement. How can I have a problem with this cat?
But something had changed. Or rather, someone had changed.
I had been conditioned from my childhood to identify with a party that increasingly valued personal autonomy above any faith or moral code, looked to government as protector and provider, and oftentimes viewed faith in God with open hostility.
And, we're off. Meine dog's ears are bleeding. Who's faith? I know all'y'all don't believe in Papism or Smithism, but even more than that, the pre-millenial dispensationalists think the post-millenial dispensationalists think the Prosperity Gospel crowd think the UCC bleeding hearts are all wrong and going to hell. And everyone hates the Jews (h/t Tom Lehrer).

"Above moral code"? Moral code, is, ummm, laws. And you're damn right I want government protection, from bankers and 'patriots' and Lost Cause types and godbotherers who feel the need to dictate faith and moral codes.
Of course, I had never thought about it in those terms. In fact, I never thought about my party affiliation at all. I just followed the path I’d grown up in without questioning it.
So, it took you until graduate school to think?
But now, in that crowded caucus, I couldn’t do that anymore. Some years earlier I had become a Christian. It took a while to get serious about studying God’s word, but as I did, it started changing me. It changed my values and priorities. It gave me a new lens through which to view everything, including politics. I found myself evaluating policy on everything—from abortion to taxes and spending—in light of Scripture.
Abortion? Not a word. (Although the Old Testament was awfully approving of killing kids. Dash the children against stones, anyone?). Taxes? Render to Caesar what is Caesar's. Spending? Before Pauly stuck his misogynistic beak and lust for authoritarian power into things, the early Christians were egalitarian socialists, share what you have, Mary Magdelene one of Christ's beloved.
Which religion will save the world, Johnny? Seems Lil' Teddy Knickers; Stabby McNeurosurgeon; Florida's Parched Theocrat; Cousin Itt cosplayer, college president, and one-man Ukrainian model immigration agency Don 'Don' Trump; and the rest (Mary Ann, Ginger, Kasich) have vowed to set much of the world on actual fucking fire
I now knew I had a calling to engage in the process as “salt and light” for the sake of the gospel of Christ, the only power that can truly transform hearts and minds and cultures.
Back up, dear. I don't believe any of your nonsense. I have my own nonsense and have yet to stab or set fire to anybody.
As I stood in that caucus meeting listening to demands for one policy after another that conflicted with what I saw as God’s pattern for a truly just and moral society, it hit me. “I don’t have anything in common with these people,” I thought. “I don’t belong here.” Thankful that I was near the door, I slipped out as quickly as I could, making a clean break from the inherited politics of my youth.
You were not the only thankful one, John-John. These people were exploring solutions to problems. Together. Not looking for the simplicity of listening to 200 preachers arguing about when Jeebus comes back but agreeing that the gays must be killed.
Since that defining moment, I’ve caucused with another party whose platform—and usually candidates—more closely align with biblical principles (though not perfectly—that never happens in our fallen world). I’ve become more actively engaged than I ever had been before, spurred by our calling to “behave as citizens worthy of the gospel of Christ” (Philippians 1:27, ESV literal rendering of Greek).
Ok, bucko. Let's take the revisionist history - The republican party invited you yahoos into the party in a quest for political power. Votes. As late as Barry Goldwater, you were kept at arm's length. Abortion was chosen as the visible politically acceptable way to organize for misogyny, segregation, and an alphabet soup of phobias. Reagan then brought you guys in. The republican establishment has used you for 36 years for votes. They, prior to the rise of the Teabaggers, would never have outlawed abortion. Too politically useful. And the road went both ways. A couple of notable items were added to your laundry list. The rights of rich people (yeah, the irony is like rain on a wedding day). The end of the Public Commons.
If you haven’t participated in a precinct caucus, I encourage you to give it a try on March 1. Find your precinct caucus location and learn more about Minnesota’s precinct caucuses. There’s more at stake than ever before, including the freedom to engage openly in our culture as a Christian. Come shine your light—it’s needed!
John Helmberger
CEO of Minnesota Family Council
Yeah, I'm going to participate in my caucuses. Sorry, JJ.

'freedom to engage openly in our culture as a Christian'?!? We're riddled with you rodent molesters. Fuck yourself. 


Wednesday, February 17, 2016

Another Supreme Court Theory, Somewhat More On The Less Conspiratorial Side

So, of course, Fat Tony is tits up. I do feel bad for his family, death sucks on ice. I feel bad for Justice Ginsberg, who considered him a close personal friend, as, surprisingly, did Justice Kagan, who made more than some efforts to befriend him. Sympathy, to all of them, and I am being quite serious.


Given the makeup of the Senate, confirmation of anyone who is not David Barton will be difficult. We may well looking at an extended 4 (left/center left - Notorious RBG, Justice Kagan, Justice Sotomayor, Justice Breyer) to 4 (monsters - The Silent Man, Chief Justice Roberts, Justice Alito, and... oh, wait...)

The makeup of the Court has been long referred to as 4 to 4 with a Kennedy swing vote, I'm not pulling this out of any available orifice.

Four left/center left and three serious brownshirts. And Anthony Kennedy.

Anthony Kennedy. Confirmed during a presidential election year, by the way, so Ted Cruz, lil' Marco Rubio, et alia can choke on this convenient box of hammers.

(Surprisingly, not near the top of google images, apparently there is some tweeny looking film called Bag of Hammers.)

His personal politics have to be at least mainstream rightie, likely an economic hard-rightie, but he doesn't rule by his political beliefs. Instead of political beliefs, he makes his rulings based on the political environment, and relishes the role of swing vote, as the bargained chip, as an elder windsock.

I submit that in order for him to maintain that role, he may go with the left side of the court surprisingly often, in an attempt to be An Hero, in an attempt to burnish his legacy as the Decider. We may see a lot of 5 to 3 rulings, and if President Obama can push though another center left appointee (I have no hope that he will nominate a true liberal, we're likely to end up with a Wall Street hack like Lynch or Srinivasan, who, while they at least may be reasonable on cultural issues, will happily continue the cudgelling of the working class), I would not be horribly shacked to see frequent 6 to 3 rulings.

I don't know, just a thought.

Sunday, February 14, 2016

I Can Haz Shortwave Radio Nao?

Mr. Grain posed a puzzler.

Per Alex Jones, President Blackenstein had a Judge offed. TenGrain is holding a small collective creational Kaffeklatch to figure out how. This aggression cannot stand.

Thus, I posit this.

President Obama put his PLAN into place shortly before New Years with a diversion in Oregon. Special Raptorforce Agent Ritzheimer, J., put the ouija-board pieces in place, then, informing his pawns that there had been a contrail sighting at the Jade Helm Camp Alphabits and his presence was required, he headed for Texas.

Wearing his issued Hyperthelegic Duck-aticion Inviso-foot Caster, he snuck 4 cases of Megovaltine into the Palatial Patriotic Palace and Pyoluretic Podiatrics Practice in Paris, Texas, where the Council on Fraternal Relations was having its annual epistemic closure.

On Friday night, the ELF receiver implanted in Deep Stage Agent Ritzenwollenstein (his actual name, and a lot of good men died horribly of Samoan Cunnilingusboarding to get that information) gave the go signal, three short brrrrrts and a beep. He turned on his negroidizer to blend in with the staff, and upon Shadow Chief Justice Scalia’s page requesting a warm milk and two small pre-punctured children, entered the moratorium, where Scalia had already spread plastic, making the agent’s job even just that much more pleasant.

Pulling his gauss gun, he quickly injected electromorphins in the judge’s chest region. Placing the gun in the hand of one of the, by now, rather sloppy children, knowing that in doing this, the mainstream of the party would blame Scalia’s passing on age and the continuing presence of America’s Funniest Home Videos on many Fox affiliates, the Agent tapped the transmitter stitched to his prostate, announcing the deed had been done, and bit down on his thermite molar.

Wednesday, February 3, 2016

Lil' Frankie Graham Watches Us From Olympus, Longing For His Own Lightning Bolts

So, Wee Frannie Knickers went to CNN and scolded us, verbing things about secularism, theocracy, and gay marriage. Ignoring the fact that he ignores all facts, he said in regards to weddings presumably followed by extremely festively lubed buttsex:

“I think we need a nationwide referendum on this and let’s see what the people say,” he concluded.

No. Just no.

We are not a democracy. We are a democratic republic. Important distinction time.

We are not a democracy, because individual people are stupid and should probably be maimed. We are a democratic republic under the theory that individual people elect representatives of the people as a whole, so that the representative is removed from Steve's individual feelings of ickiness and tinglies in his special spot when he thinks about gay sex, and instead works for all the people. Protecting the minority from the majority of individually stupid people who should be maimed. Festively, if you like, I'm not in a party mood at the moment but perhaps could be persuaded.

The fact that we fail miserably at the whole Republic thingy, and have more frequently than not failed miserably at the whole Republic thingy, does not change the fact that it could work, and certainly works better than a country with 300 million individual governments, with 300 million individual agendas and prejudices. And no paved roads. And Wonder Bread being declared 'organic'. And Star Wars prequels, Bud Light winning the Great American Beer Fest, FloridaGeorgia Line being considered music...

OOOOH. MUSIC. I was just keyed into this, but I want to hug these people!

Monday, January 25, 2016

Open Letter To A Future Benny Hind Voter

Dear HyperChristian Dispensationalist Whack-A-Mole Game,

I was very appreciative of your bumper sticker declaring that "In Case Of Rapture, This Car Will Be Unoccupied". Very retro, sir, I had not seen that adhesive manifesto in quite some time.

In case of your rapture, I'm taking your stuff. I might get a buck two-fifty for the plastic-wrapped paisley couch. You might still have iron cook pans, which I'm rather fond of. The lime-green refrigerator, with the freezer inside the door? Keg holder.

Your Michael W. Smith CDs and Kirk Cameron Blue-ray Edition DVD collection? Sun-catchers and squirrel torturers.

Thanks in advance!

Love, paleo

Creflo Dollar/Benny Hind 2016! Feel The Nuts!

Sunday, January 24, 2016

I Am Ewmer J. Twump, Miwwionaire. I Own A Mansion And A Yacht

And a permanent subscription, the Gold Premium Rutabaga level, to Ukrainian Models Seeking Green Cards Monthly. This only because as badly as he wants to bang his own daughter, she's getting a little long in the tooth for him.

So. Lil' Donny picked up an endorsement:

He was thrilled:

The crowd? Rapt adoration:

Now, to be clear, Sarah Wrinkled and Dumb was not making an 'endorsement'. Nor was she covering up for her kid; let's go with the assumption that this freakout was an effect of PTSD, in which case she once again demonstrates that she sees them as props, as tools, in her grift, to where she took an event, Track's going full Shining, and instead of, you know, helping her kid, she uses him in a wildly stupid stump speech. She was acting the debutante at her own little cornfed cotillion . She waited until one member of the clown car seemed to be on track and proceeded to try to hobo her way onto the train, trying to be relevant again.To an extent, it worked - eg., I'm writing this.

There are some who claim the Republican establishment is afraid of the electoral repercussions of candidate Trump, that he will have, for lack of a better term, anti-coattails. People will vote against their local Republican candidate because Trump leads the ticket. Clearly Trump doesn't believe that; he was so pleased to have Meth Jem and the Hallucinations come out for him that he made it an event and was there his own self.

I actually agree with the Badly Wigged One.

To start with, let's be real - Americans suck at voting. America sucks at voter education. While certainly both parties jockey for advantage and have neither interest nor need for fairness, the US Media and the post-Citizens United SuperPacs operate completely without regulation, allowing the creation of a, dare I say it, Trump-Palin ticket. I think I just died a little inside, incidentally, or at least vomited.

Continuing, the only real mainstream Republican resistance to Trumpy might be the evangelical power brokers, who are certainly aware that he does not share a thing in common with them; but enough promises to the lead JesusBeaters will quell that resistance, as Frankie Graham, Jerry Falwell Jr., Ralphie Reed et alia genuinely don't give a damn about anything the supposed Rabbi Yeshua ben-Yusef may have said. Add in that evangelical voters are among the absolute dumbest American voters, and will fall in line for anyone claiming either a bible or a collection of Hitler speeches by his bedside.

Also, none of the Serious Candidates in the Republican clown car were ever going to pull independents or any share of the minority vote. I've said it before, and don't mind saying again, that although Lindsey Graham is a goddamn lunatic in regards to foreign policy, and so completely unacceptable, in my mind, as president, his domestic policies were far less dreadful than any of the others in the Dolt Decathlon. And so, although he would put up some troubling numbers in the general election, he was NEVER EVER EVER going to win a single primary. And none of the remaining gang of dipshits, barring another Democratic Party circular firing squad (think 2004, and ending up with John Kerry, who, for all his positives, made a poor candidate especially in the transition to the modern media age), has enough white Metamucil addicts to threaten much in the general. But they are not bothered so much by that: they have ALL the white Metamucil addicts. Little voter suppression here and there and the damn Republicans get to 2020, and another redistricting year, and another gerrymander.

So, paleo, what's going to happen?

Shit, I don't know, it's still a week before the Iowa caucus, and the Iowa caucus is no longer, in fact, really never was, the bellwether it claims to be. The World's Largest Ted Nugent Groupie? The Frothy Mixture? Wevs. A lot can happen between now and November.

How about, "paleo, what are you confident about?"

  • I feel safe saying that the oxygen-tank-and-racism contingent will turn out, maybe slowly but in number, for the Republican candidate, whosoever they may be. Unless it's noted Egyptologist and street knife fighter (thanks MPS!) Bennie 'Slice' Carson, they like him, but there's something, ummm, off about him, not sure what. 
  • I worry that the largely Millenials base supporting Sen. Sanders will not vote if Secretary Clinton is the nominee. Circular firing squad, goddammit - I love Senator Sanders, and support him in the primary, but if Sec'y Clinton takes the nom, this is realpolitik, and this election is pretty damned important. Mrs. Clinton is superior to anyone the Republican monsters put up.
  • I disagree that 'Trump cannot be bought off'; of course he can, and the longer he holds out, the higher the price he fetches from those who want Rubio. It's a question of how long he wants to play the con, or if he fools himself into thinking he can be president. Not in terms of getting elected, mind you, anything can happen right now; but in terms of 'Do I really want to be president? It's a lot of work, and an awful lot of visibility to get away with incest even if I lock up 19 votes and counting in Arkansas, and those poor future former Mrs. Trumpanovas without a wig to keep warm..." 
  • And, will the Republican mainstream attempt to broker their own convention to prevent Trumpy from taking the nomination? It would be suicidal for 2016, but it's quite possible that their political calculus makes it smart for 2018 and 2020, not trying to run with that goddamn lunatic leading the party or even the nation.
I guess, then, pop some popcorn. Or, dunno, get activated. Get energized. Vote. Fucking participate. The Constitution is strong and will survive. The Earth is strong and will definitely survive.

We, living right now, may not. Certainly not in our current paradigm.

I like food. I like bourbon. I love my dog. Fish fear me. I'm very fond of seeing my wife naked. 

I choose survival, thanks.


Mr. The Bald Bastard pointed out some inelegant phraseologism in here.

Nor was she covering up for her kid; let's go with the assumption that this freakout was an effect of PTSD, in which case she once again demonstrates that she sees them as props, as tools, in her grift, to where she took an event, Track's going full Shining, and instead of, you know, helping her kid, she uses him in a wildly stupid stump speech.

To be clear, I do no not think she was anywhere close to any vector that may have come in proximity to the hypotenuse of a point.

It is common knowledge that Mr. Palin was, due to a rapidly evolving juvenile record, given the choice of jail or the military. Given that at the time his mother was growing in prominence in Alaskan electoral politics, while this sort of judgement is admittedly unusual in modern times, I suspect the judge decided to play CYA.

It is less well-known that Track Palin was apparently put in a quasi-champagne-unit in the Iraqi Green Zone, as a chauffeur. It is bandied about that while he was not discharged with cause, no one minded seeing his ass flying west.

I don't believe for a minute this is PTSD, I was positing that playing this scenario at Sarah's declared face value makes her look even worse than she does typically. She also seems to miss that Mr. Palin went to a war started by President Cokie McFootiePajamas aka Drooly McGinPants while the moron was still in office.

And stuff.