Category Archives: Blogosphere

The Democrat Steno Pool

To paraphrase Kurt Schlichter: I commanded a cavalry platoon, so my default tactic is to attack. But in the current culture war by far the best offense is mockery.

Hence my choices of monikers for the lamestream media: the snooze media (since they’re all asleep from doing things the same way for so long), the lapdog media (self-explanatory, eh Barry?) and the Democrat media (given their political bias).

But I have to like Schlichter’s new one: The Democrat Steno Pool. Remember it as you watch them savage Cruz, Rubio, Walker and the other GOP candidates while saving their “objectivity” for Godzillary.

Via Instapundit.

Low Army morale is understandable

How could any army thrive in an increasingly anti-military culture such as ours? One that cares more for diversity and sexual-assault programs than winning wars.

The part that isn’t understandable is how the Army still sustains itself on volunteers. The volunteers, particularly in the combat arms of infantry, artillery and armor, must be seeking something other than martial respect. Could it be, in the abysmal Democrat economy, something as pathetic as the old “three hots and a cot?”

The American army hasn’t won a war of any significance since the Japanese surrendered in 1945. Not that it couldn’t. But the pols undercut it every time.

Jackie Robinson was a Republican

His politics was one of the baseball great’s facets that defies the canned deification process. And it got him fired as a newspaper columnist in 1960 for supporting Nixon against Kennedy.

“No one will ever convince me that the [New York] Post acted in an honest manner,” he was quoted in 1962. “I believe the simple truth is that they became somewhat alarmed when they realized that I really meant to write what I believed. There is a peculiar parallel between some of our great Northern ‘liberals’ and some of our outstanding Southern liberals. Some of the people in both classes share the deep-seated convictions that only their convictions can possibly be the right ones. They both inevitably say the same thing: ‘We know the Negro and what is best for him.'”

And 53 years later, not a damn thing has changed. Except the cosmetic. Saying Negro is now taboo.

The choke on the dashboard

Miriam does great reminiscences. She’s even written a book about them. But while most of her experiences were big-city urban (from which I was gratefully spared) get her on the subject of the unreliable American car of yesteryear and remember, just remember.

Cars (Japanese, Korean, German, even most American ones) are so reliable nowadays, they don’t put a choke on the dashboard anymore. Computers run the carburetor now. Most cars no longer have carburetors. We thought we had it good back then, choking the carb (before it was a diet reference) on a cold morning. But it really was pathetic!

Not to mention carrying cans of motor oil in the trunk for occasional roadside replacement. Miriam mentions them.

Via Miriam’s Ideas.

Social Justice Bullies

I was joking around with Mrs. Charm the other day about the self-righteous intolerance of so-called Social Justice Warriors when Mr. B. spoke up to say that the intolerant SJWs are well known to his high school freshmen class.

It’s never too early, apparently, to learn of the vile patriarchy (privileged white males like me and Mr. B.) vs the oppressed (all women and everyone else).

These proto-authoritarian leftist Democrats are misnamed, surely. Social Justice Bullies would be more appropriate. They will not debate or argue. Agree with them or be denounced a racist: “To disagree with the millennial social justice orthodoxy is to make a pariah of oneself willingly. Adherence to the narrative is the single litmus test for collegiate (and beyond) social acceptance these days.”

Collegiate and much earlier, it would seem, even unto the depths of high school.

Shucking the blog

Andy of MyOldRV, post-gate guarding in the shut-down Eagle Ford fracking field and wandering ever since has considered stopping blogging.

“I have heard from lots of y’all these last few weeks mostly inquiring if all was well. It is, make no mistake. It is VERY well!  I am just running way down below that invasive and offensive radar as I possibly can.  Sometimes, late in the still evening when Little Blue is shut down for the day and the Jim Beam is out on the counter and Tuco the Dog is laying at my feet,  I toy with the idea of shucking it all.  No blog,  no continuing sharing that began six years ago with that first blog entry.  I think about it ever more often but it is not time.”

Naw. Never would be too soon. Happy Trails!

General Lee surrendered today

One hundred fifty years ago. Thus this is the last major day of the Civil War Sesquicentennial. Which lefty TNR thinks should be celebrated every year from now on. Heretical though that is, I tend to agree. Make it a subtext of Martin Luther King Day.

Nevertheless, while I despised racial and ethnic segregation when I was a teenager in the 1950s and understood it, not conceptually as so many do now, but by seeing it in action every day, and while I have no love at all for the Confederacy or its elites like Lee and his slave-owning, aristo cronies (including some of my own ancestors), I share kinship and deep sympathy with the defeated Rebel junior officers and common soldiers.

So I quite like the sentiment of the following old song which some of them sang after the war, if I do not agree with all of the words. They would understand the over-weaning, over-regulating, over-taxing and endlessly incompetent and corrupt federal government—and predominantly Democrat news media of today. They saw it coming.

Oh, I’m a good old rebel,
Now, that’s just what I am,
And for this Yankee nation,
I do not give a damn.
I’m glad I fought agin ‘er,
I only wish we won.
I ain’t askin’ any pardon for anything I’ve done.
I hate the Yankee nation and everything they do.
I hate the Declaration of Independence, too.
I hate the glorious union, t’is drippin’ with our blood.
I hate the stri-ped banner, and fit it all I could
I rode with Robert E. Lee,
For three years, thereabout.
Got wounded in four places,
And I starved at Point Lookout.
I catched the rheumatism
Acampin’ in the snow.
But I killed a chance of Yankees
And I’d like to kill some more.
Three hundred thousand Yankees
Is stiff in southern dust.
We got three hundred thousand
Before they conquered us
They died of Southern Fever
And Southern steel and shot
I wish there were three million
Instead of what we got.
I can’t pick up my musket
And fight ’em down no more
But I ain’t agonna love ’em
Now that is certain sure
And I don’t want no pardon
For what I was and am
I won’t be reconstructed
And I do not give a damn
Oh, I’m a good old rebel,
Now, that’s just what I am,
And for this Yankee nation,
I do not give a damn.
I’m glad I fought agin ‘er,
I only wish we won.
I aint askin’ any pardon for anything I’ve done.
I aint askin’ any pardon for anything I’ve done.
*****************************************
I went to the 125th surrender commemoration at Appomattox back in 1990. It was stirring, except for the play-acting reenactors whose gotch-gutted bellies and faultlessly-tailored uniforms made it a sham.
I expect the news media will write about the anniversary today and, as they have ever since the first one in 1865, get most of the details wrong.

Via Mouth of the Brazos.