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Thread: The Week That Perished

  1. #211
    https://www.takimag.com/article/the-...-perished-193/

    The Week’s Roomiest, Zoomiest, and June Gloomiest Headlines
    THE LONG CON
    Not since the wife in Gone Girl has someone made such vindictive use of their death.
    Jimbo Jackson was the principal of Fort Braden K–8 school in Tallahassee, and during the pandemic he became Florida’s public face (and bald head) of school closures, going toe-to-toe with Governor DeSantis over whether to allow kids to learn in person, or keep them in closets encased in plastic safety bags.
    When Jackson contracted Covid in July 2020, he greatly disappointed himself by recovering, as his death would’ve been the ultimate “screw you Ron” moment. Even as the pandemic receded, Jackson still lobbied tirelessly to keep kids out of school.
    Well, last week Jackson finally croaked (in comedy this is called “commitment to a bit”). With his last breath he proclaimed that it was “long Covid” that dun him in, and he implored his followers to use his passing to force school closures.

    Expect a lot of this from now on. Anyone who ever had Covid, whenever they die—ten, twenty, thirty years from now—they’ll be counted as a Covid mortality. In that way, the pandemic will never outlive its usefulness.
    Headline from the year 2056: “Tom Hanks died today at age 99. Another senseless Covid casualty. Thanks, DEATH-SANTIS.”
    Back in January, JAMA Internal Medicine published a study indicating that “long Covid” is purely psychosomatic: “Physical symptoms persisting 10-to-12 months after the COVID-19 pandemic first wave may be associated more with the belief in having experienced COVID-19 infection than with actually being infected with the SARS-CoV-2 virus.”
    So get ready: Just as leftists demand that any man who claims to be a woman must be considered a woman medically and scientifically, they’ll soon demand that anyone who claims to have “long Covid” must be considered infected, even if they’re not.
    Covid as a social construct.
    A BRIDGE TOO FARNOUSH
    Forget about busboys. Last week, Brooklyn Jews got some busoys, which they (of course) blamed on busgoys.

    An anonymous anti-Semite spray-painted swastikas over a Jewish organization’s bus-stop PSA that read “We’re just 75 years since the gas chambers. So no, a billboard calling out Jew hate isn’t an overreaction. #EndJewHate.”


    75 years? It feel like 75 minutes the way you keep reminding us.
    The swastika-spraying launched the Pursuit of the Graffiti Spee, as the ADL ordered the NYPD to spare no expense in hunting down the perpetrator.
    And then the Dachau dauber, the Banksy of Buchenwald, was caught.
    And (huge surprise) it was a Jew.

    Farnoush Hakakian is a 45-year-old Iranian Jew. Her surname dates back to the time in ancient Persia when Xerxes thought his cat was speaking to him.
    Xerxes: It’s saying hakakianhakakian…what does it mean?
    Mardonius: My king, I think it’s throwing up.
    Xerxes: No! It’s a message just for me!
    Mardonius: Pretty sure it’s a hairball, my lord.
    Far-out Farnoush explained via Facebook that she defaced the billboard because she’s tired of Jews and their crap:
    I am Jewish. This is my art, this is how I express myself. I don’t agree with Judaism and how the Jewish people are. Instead of condemning the anti-semites, did it ever occur to you maybe we are doing many wrong things and we need to change????? Did it ever occur to you maybe the anti-semites have a point? A good one?
    She must be a barrel of laughs at Seder.
    Meanwhile, Hakakian was issued an open invitation to become Rashida Tlaib’s new press secretary.
    PROTESTS AND DUMBIN’STRATIONS
    Last week proved that when it comes to soul-stirring political protests that shake the very foundation of heaven itself, the left’s still got it. If by “it” one means “looking like morons.”
    First, to the Louvre, where a 36-year-old self-proclaimed “environmental artist” dressed up as an old lady in a wheelchair to throw cake at the Mona Lisa and then force-feed it to her in an effort to save the planet from global warming.
    Yes, everything about that last sentence is insane. Yet, compared with other things environmentalists do—trying to power large cities with windmills that freeze in the cold, blowing up oil pipelines because they might leak—the artistic assault and cake-battery wasn’t so bad. Fortunately, the Louvre has da Vinci’s masterpiece encased in bulletproof glass; this was necessitated following an unfortunate incident in 1994 when two black tourists from Chicago got into a heated dispute over whether the painting’s background represents the Valdarno valley or Montefeltro. Ten patrons died that day.
    The chocolate-chucking Marie Antoinette cake-giver was swiftly arrested. President Macron denounced the protest, stating that if you’re going to feed a famous painting, do Dogs Playing Poker, because when’s the last time those good boys had a biscuit?
    Meanwhile, as the French were dealing with cross-dressers having pie fights with inanimate objects, in New York a bunch of white leftists held a protest to prove that white leftists are the most useless things on earth. Several dozen bored Saratoga Springs whiteys held a “die-in,” lying down in the middle of a busy street to advocate the teaching of CRT in schools. The protest was led by local BLM founder Chandler Hickenbottom, who you might remember as the effete comic foil in every British farce ever.
    According to Saratoga’s Daily Gazette, onlookers yelled at the supine simps to “get back to work” and “get a life.”
    If only life imitated Road Runner cartoons, one good steamroller could’ve transformed that protest into a piece of art worthy of the Louvre.
    ELMER FADD
    Speaking of cartoons, just as Elmer Fudd was ceaselessly humiliated in his pursuit of wascally wabbits, so too have a bunch of morons recently been thwarted in their pursuit of the latest million-dollar fad.
    Not everyone’s bright enough to get in on the ground floor of the latest Pet Rock…and fewer still are wise enough to get out before the bottom drops. Last week MSN profiled several asinine-steins who lost their shirts investing in NFTs.
    Nate Hart likes cats. In that way, he’s unremarkable. However, he likes cats so much that last year he paid $600,000 for an NFT of a cat. Now, that makes him remarkable…remarkably stupid. He admitted to MSN that today his cat NFT isn’t worth enough to feed a real-life kitty one day’s worth of kibble.
    MSN also profiled Frank Chaparro, who spent $20,000 on an NFT of “an image of cats in bowls” that at present isn’t worth the cost of either one real cat or one real bowl. “Does it hurt? Of course,” Chaparro conceded. “But think about all the things you enjoy having that really don’t have value but they say something about yourself.”
    Yeah, like “I’m the reason silica packets have ‘do not eat’ printed on them.”
    Meanwhile, Reuters profiled Lloyd Armbrust of Pflugerville, Tex., who sunk his life savings into Covid mask manufacturing in 2020, and now he can’t figure out why the orders have slowed. Yes, he’s genuinely confused about it. In fact, he’s still trying to unravel the puzzle of why his daddy’s Bicentennial banner business went belly-up on Jan. 1, 1977.
    “Armbrust did up to a half-million dollars in mask sales a day,” Reuters reported. “Now, Armbrust laments, ‘we’re like 5% of that.’”
    And he has no idea why, making him an excellent candidate for a job as a WaPo market analyst.
    That some people lose their fortunes isn’t a mystery. The only mystery is, how the hell did they ever get fortunes in the first place?
    PORN WITH A SILVER SPOON
    Continuing with the theme of “things you shouldn’t be surprised at” (“my $600,000 cat drawing decreased in value!” “My Covid masks aren’t selling like in 2020!” “My Mona Lisa desecration didn’t save the earth!”) comes this beauty: a degenerate drug-addicted deviant sex-fiend con artist is also into hardcore porn.
    Holy cow, nobody saw that coming!
    A Daily Mail search of Hunter Biden’s infamous laptop reveals Biden Jr.’s “obsession with porn and penchant for filming himself having sex with prostitutes.”
    “Of the 281 websites found in his search history over six days, 98 were pornographic.” Biden also “had a paid Pornhub Premium account,” where he “uploaded his own amateur videos but was careful not to show his face. Text messages show Hunter apparently sent a link to a Pornhub page to a phone number he had saved in his contacts book as ‘Dad.’”
    Is that a surprise either? A guy who loves sniffing little girls and talking about children rubbing his leg hairs in a swimming pool might be into some freaky stuff in his off-hours?

    Biden Jr., who often filmed himself masturbating while watching porn then filmed himself masturbating while watching himself masturbate while watching porn, repeating the process until successfully re-creating the Hasslein theory of time travel from Escape From the Planet of the Apes, frequented sites like “Teenfidelity” and searched for films featuring “MILFs doing crack.”

    No word on why the president hasn’t appointed his son to lead the National Endowment for the Arts. After all, how many of us have looked at Mount Rushmore and said, “But what it really needs is a huge phallus protruding from Teddy Roosevelt”?
    It’s easy to feel sorry for poor Hunter. A child of wealth and privilege with no smarts or ambition, a literal human wind instrument, expelling air into a crack pipe on one end while a mouth blows the other. Yet surely Hunter’s greatest life tragedy is that, as an amateur porn maker, he’ll never outdo the grand achievement of his father, who managed to screw an entire nation of 300,000,000 people all at once.
    Top that, Ron Jeremy.
    Never attempt to teach a pig to sing; it wastes your time and annoys the pig.

    Robert Heinlein

    Give a man an inch and right away he thinks he's a ruler

    Groucho Marx

    I love mankind…it’s people I can’t stand.

    Linus, from the Peanuts comic

    You cannot have liberty without morality and morality without faith

    Alexis de Torqueville

    Those who fail to learn from the past are condemned to repeat it.
    Those who learn from the past are condemned to watch everybody else repeat it

    A Zero Hedge comment



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  3. #212
    https://www.takimag.com/article/the-...-perished-194/

    The Week’s Most Flaying, Fraying, and Flag-Daying Headlines
    WET BACK TO WHERE YOU ONCE BELONGED
    It’s back! The parade no one wants. No floats, just flotsam. The marching band is marching bandidos. No drill squad, but a mile of clowns. Yes, it’s another “migrant caravan,” shambling from the dung pits of Central America heading toward what most Americans call a border but Democrats call a finish line.
    And while the grand marshal of the parade, a senile old man in Washington, D.C., wanders a rose garden arguing with a bird (“Listen, fat, I want my Froot Loops. Don’t make me kill you like I did that rabbit who took my Trix”), the parade’s cheerleaders are lining the border to greet the new arrivals with gifts of green cards, welfare checks, and leaf blowers (because Barbra Streisand’s driveway ain’t gonna clear itself).
    Caravan organizers told Agencia EFE that among the 5,000 marchers are “93 pregnant women”…though isn’t it “transphobic” to assume the gender of pregnant people? And speaking of “phobias,” organizers told the AP that many of the paraders are “fleeing homophobia”:
    María Gómez, 24, and Roselys Gutierrez, 25, a couple from Venezuela, said they left Colombia after experiencing homophobia there and suffering physical attacks.

    When Gómez and Gutierrez were asked what they were doing in Colombia and why, if it was so homophobic, didn’t they just return to Venezuela, the lesbians held up their hands like Señor Wences and said, “You very nice man. Would you like a keess? I geev you a keess.”
    Also along for the march is Eymar Benavides, who told the AP, “Venezuela works, it’s a paradise, we didn’t want to leave our country.” When asked, “Well, then, why’d you leave?” Benavides held up his hand like Señor Wences and said, “S’alright? S’alright.”
    Onlookers can catch the parade this weekend at the U.S./Mexican border, or any time afterward in the parking lot of your local Home Depot.
    GUNGA’S DIN
    In the opening credits of the classic 1970s sitcom The Mary Tyler Moore Show, the protagonist blithely cavorts around Minneapolis, and in the final frame she joyously tosses her hat in the air.
    If the show ever gets a reboot, that ending shot would have to be amended: As Mary tosses the hat, she’s tackled by a dozen Muslim men who beat her unconscious for uncovering her head in public.
    Minneapolis is home to the majority of Minnesota’s 140,000 Muslims, about 80,000 of whom are Somalis. Presidents from Clinton through Biden have gotten a great laugh by trucking these sub-Saharans from their desert wasteland (where it’s 104 in the shade) to Minnesota’s frozen landscape, thus screwing up the lives of newcomers and hosts alike (in welcoming a group of Somali “refugees” in 1998, President Clinton is rumored to have said, “I hear some of you Somali chicks screw your brothers…that’s hot”).


    Since Muslims have a peculiar habit of flaunting their dominance over conquered people, last week Minneapolis’ Muhammadans “convinced” city leaders to allow mosques to blare the adhan (the Islamic call to prayer) from loudspeakers throughout the day and evening. Upon signing the bill authorizing the constant blaring of the Muslim blather, Minneapolis mayor Jacob Frey expressed gratitude to Muslim leaders for releasing his wife unharmed.
    The hours of the adhan broadcasts are limited by city noise ordinances, meaning no early-morning or late-night ali-ali-oxen-frees. But several Muslim immigrants told the AP that they hope to have the hours extended from the crack of dawn to midnight, and the decibel levels increased so that infidels can’t escape the noise.
    “Hopefully, city leaders will acquiesce to our peaceful demands,” local imam Ali Shiedy told the AP. “We know Mayor Frey will do the right thing for the city, and for his daughter, who’s severed finger serves as proof of our seriousness.”
    The lyrics to the Mary Tyler Moore Show theme included the line, “You can have the town, why don’t you take it?”
    To which Minneapolis Muslims responded, “Don’t mind if we do.”

    SOROS GETS A SORE ASS
    The best part of every James Bond film is when the supervillain meets his fate. Goldfinger sucked out a plane window, Drax blasted into outer space, Zorin dropped from the Golden Gate Bridge.
    Hey, did somebody mention San Francisco? Last week the people of that notoriously leftist city found their nads and extracted a little James Bond justice on resident bad guy, District Attorney Chesa Boudin. Boudin was booted in a recall that wasn’t even close: 60 percent of Friscans voted to banish the soft-on-crime DA whose love of murderers (after all, his mommy was one) and hatred of innocent citizens led to an explosion of crime in Fog City.
    Also, under Boudin’s reign sidewalk pooping by the homeless rose to such levels, the tech industry’s H-1B visa scabs thought they were still in Gujarat.
    It turns out that even liberals have limits when it comes to seeing their loved ones murdered by felons and their sneakers stained with bum-poo.
    Hardest-hit by Boudin’s loss is billionaire cacodemon George Soros, whose money put Boudin in office in the first place. Soros, who’s installed over a dozen criminal-friendly DAs in cities across the nation, is facing a popular revolt, and in the bluest of areas. Along with San Fran, L.A. is preparing to recall its Soros DA George Gascon. If Gascon falls as well, it’ll be Soros’ worst disappointment since World War II’s cessation forced him to stop collaborating with Nazis.
    Speaking from his lair inside a hollowed-out volcano, Soros told the press that San Francisco’s insolence will be punished, as a warning to other cities. As he lowered a bound-and-gagged Boudin into a pond full of piranha (“I do not tolerate failure. You were my friend, but now you’re just my…chum”), Soros mused about how best to punish the Bay Area.
    Earthquake? Tsunami? Too quick and painless.
    Turning to his hunchback dwarf henchman (Jerry Nadler), Soros gave the order:
    “Release the monkeypox,” he declared, adding menacingly, “and tell them all: My name is lesion.”
    NANCY SPEW AND THE HARDLY BOYS
    Dr. Sheree Bekker is an assistant professor of sports injuries at the University of Bath, and it’s tempting to believe that she came to the field by way of experience, having taken a few too many blows to the noggin. But it’s also important to note that she grew up in Botswana, so her formative years were spent studying broom duppies and baby-rape AIDS cures.
    Last week Dr. Bekker favored the world with a scientific discovery of monumental proportions. In a lengthy thread on the RealScientists Twitter page, Bekker (trans)mansplained her groundbreaking find: The notion that there are any physical differences between men and women is a hoax created by Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig to help them win ballgames, because women could’ve beaten them handily if allowed to compete.
    Yes, Lou Gehrig had a disease all right…misogyny.
    According to Botswana Bekker, women are in no way “physically smaller” than men. The only reason “women’s sports” were created was to stop women from dominating men in baseball and football.
    Yes, football. She claims that women would easily beat men if allowed in the NFL. Therefore, letting trannies compete in women’s sports actually puts the trannies at the disadvantage!
    Upon reading her Twitter thread, Odingo M’dongo, Botswana’s Deputy Minister for Looking Quizzically at Logs, stated, “Even by our standards that’s some nutty-ass bullcrap.”
    Bekker’s next quest is to demand the immediate release of all men incarcerated for physically overpowering women, because, as her discovery proves, such a thing is impossible.
    Science marches on! In Sheree Bekker’s case, right off a cliff.
    WAVY GRAVY
    There’s an old Polish joke that goes something like this: A two-seater Cessna crashed into a cemetery in Warsaw. Search-and-rescue teams have recovered 300 bodies so far and expect that number to climb.
    Get it? The Poles are so dumb, they don’t understand that the bodies in the graveyard were already there.
    Ha ha ha! Stupid Polacks!
    Except, of course, no Pole would actually be that idiotic. On the other hand, many Canadians would.
    In 2021, Canada’s “indigenous” activists, together with the nation’s most brain-dead academics and Trudeau’s SaskatcheStasi shock-troops, claimed to have “discovered,” using “ground-penetrating radar,” dozens of “mass graves” of Indian children from the nation’s oddball “residential school” period in the late 1800s (when Native kids were sent to Christian boarding schools to be weaned from their tribal ways because all those damned rain dances were killing the crops).
    The Canadian press presented the “mass graves” as a war crime, and, as a result of the anti-Christian demonization, last year dozens of churches were set afire across the country and dozens more were vandalized and desecrated.
    Last week the National Post ran a series of in-depth investigations about the “mass graves.” Turns out they were just…graves. Marked, sanctified cemeteries. While the “residential schools” scheme was not the smartest idea the U.S.’s frigid unremarkable neighbor ever came up with, the “mass graves” were nothing more than normal places of eternal rest. Although the revelations about the true nature of the cemeteries didn’t come soon enough to save all those burned churches, at least grave-mania was curtailed before Gordon Lightfoot could write a song about it. Now, that would’ve been a war crime.

    Canadians literally acted out that Polish joke: They couldn’t tell the difference between properly buried corpses and the remnants of a mass-casualty event.
    Poles have gotten a bad rap; Canuck jokes should be the new standard. Like that Justin Trudeau knee-slapper from 2010 when he told Canadians, “I’m never going to take your guns.”
    Trudeau’s a terrible leader, but his stand-up is A-list.
    Never attempt to teach a pig to sing; it wastes your time and annoys the pig.

    Robert Heinlein

    Give a man an inch and right away he thinks he's a ruler

    Groucho Marx

    I love mankind…it’s people I can’t stand.

    Linus, from the Peanuts comic

    You cannot have liberty without morality and morality without faith

    Alexis de Torqueville

    Those who fail to learn from the past are condemned to repeat it.
    Those who learn from the past are condemned to watch everybody else repeat it

    A Zero Hedge comment

  4. #213
    The Week That Perished

    https://www.takimag.com/article/the-...-perished-195/

    Takimag

    June 19, 2022

    The Week’s Most Eeny, Meeny, and Juneteeny Headlines

    31 FLAVORS A SLAVE

    Juneteenth, a Texas-originated celebration marking the end of slavery, had traditionally been a regional, minor jubilee. But in June 2020 craven government officials needed figurative pork rinds to toss the ravenous BLM rioters laying waste to American cities, so it was decided to elevate Juneteenth to a federal holiday in George Floyd’s honor (“National Fentanyl Day” having already been claimed by Prince).

    This year Juneteenth falls on Father’s Day, so every black child will have at least something to celebrate.

    Unfortunately, darkness has descended upon the black festivities. Commercialism has reared its ugly head: Walmart had planned to market Juneteenth ice cream to commemorate the holiday. Thankfully, black activists and social media users bullied the mega-chain into pulling and destroying the product.

    When Walmart execs couldn’t figure out how to quickly dispose of millions of gallons of ice cream, Stacey Abrams bravely stepped in to finally make herself useful.

    To be fair to the lactose-intolerant activists, some of the Juneteenth flavors Walmart was planning to sell might’ve come off as a little crass. They included Emancipralines, Underground Rockyroad, Rum Raisin in the Sun, Mangonumission, Diaspumoni, Coffle Cognac, Maple Passage, Macamaroon, Tutti Strange Frutti, Flantation, Cotton Pickin’ Candy, and Uncle Tom’s Carob.

    All available with whipped cream, of course.

    Walmart apologized for the poor judgment, although CEO Doug McMillon told MSNBC that the company will continue to sell its Holocaust Remembrance Day dessert line, which includes Sobiberry Pie, Auschwitz-Bearclawnau, Einsatzgrapefruitten, Arbeit Macht Friand, Waffle SS, Krema Brûlée, Brownshirt Betty, and Orange Julius Streicher.

    “The ADL never complains,” McMillon said, “as long as they get a cut.”

    PRIDE OF THE STANKEES

    If the problem with Juneteenth is commercialization, the problem with Pride Month is competition. Like Christmas neighbors trying to outdo each other with garish decorations, for Pride Month, corporations are trying to one-up each other with gross-outs.

    But how do you up the “ewwww” factor to celebrate something that’s nothing but “ewwww”? You already have Pride parades where dudes in S&M bondage outfits wave their penises at children, and “drag queen storytime” at public libraries in which grotesque abominations from a John Waters wet dream read about vaginas to petrified tykes who’ll forever associate books with fat freaks in wigs who smell of burned cheese and lubricant.

    How do you top that? You make millions of Americans associate dinner with poop.

    Meal delivery service Postmates is marking Pride Month by offering a series of “bottom-friendly” advertisements aimed at providing the best food options for “mess-free” anal sex.

    The ads list foods that can “cause a traffic jam in the digestive system, which can make a mess of your evening.” To put it in family-friendly terms, these are foods to avoid so that when you’re in bed with Jed Clampett and he goes shootin’ in your hole, he doesn’t unleash a bubblin’ crude.

    Feeling hungry yet?

    Remember the good old days when rule No. 1 of food advertising was “Don’t associate the product with turds”? It’s the only reason Tootsie Roll has stayed in business so long.

    Last week The Hill ran a lengthy piece about the increase in “anti-gay hate” this Pride Month. Left unexplored was how much of that “hate” is just people who were about to eat a nutty fudge bar, and then they saw a Postmates ad.

    There’s a fine line between being “homophobic” and merely nauseous.

    ACHIEVING ACHIEVER ACHIEVES ACHIEVEMENT

    Cancer’s good as cured, and Mars good as conquered. The press was abuzz last week with news that 17-year-old Floridian Ashley Adirika, a child of Nigerian immigrants, was accepted for admission by all eight Ivy League universities.

    Anyone perusing the many glowing profiles of Ms. Adirika looking for information about GPAs, SATs, or ACTs would’ve been sorely disappointed, because Ashley was chosen not for her grades but for her many accomplishments, which include being a student of color, being born a person of color and then becoming a student, possessing color while being a student, and being physically present in a learning institution for students as a student while encased in skin of color.

    In high school, Adirika founded a group called Our Story Our Worth (“a community organization that empowers young female students of color”). She also served on her school’s debate team and as student body president. Other accomplishments include being a student, and being of color.

    And the debate team. There was that, too.

    Adirika has chosen Harvard as her destination. Regarding her major, she told CNN that her ultimate goal is “to fix issues in communities with the knowledge of government systems and policies” via “explorations in policy and social policy and things of that nature,” adding, “I am really passionate about policy and using policy to empower communities. I want to use that as a platform to do work in policy.”

    “When Walmart execs couldn’t figure out how to quickly dispose of millions of gallons of ice cream, Stacey Abrams bravely stepped in to finally make herself useful.”
    Meanwhile, across town, an Asian-American teen with a 4.0 GPA, perfect SAT scores, and an internship at a nuclear power plant where he single-handedly innovated a new reactor design was handed his rejection slip from every U.S. college:

    “Dear Quan, your application essay didn’t use the word ‘policy’ nearly enough. In the future, please keep your goals vague, and try to say ‘policy’ multiple times per sentence. Also, be more of color, but not your color; the other, better color. Best of luck to you in your uncle’s restaurant; with the dumplings, go easy on the vinegar.”

    “YOU DEMONS GET OFF MY LAWN!”

    When you think of the societal damage wrought by Covid, what comes to mind? Economic disaster? A ravaged job market? Elderly people left to die alone?

    Children deprived of education and formative-years socialization skills? The health effects of 24/7 masking?

    Or maybe you think of the suicide and opioid overdose rates.

    Well, then, you’re a damn fool. Because Covid’s worst legacy is demons.

    Yes, demons. Last week the Catholic Church opened its first-ever center to combat Covid-related demon possession. The St. Michael Centre for Spiritual Liberation and Exorcism, located in Manila, is equipped to zap the demons out of ten normal-size adults per day (or twelve dwarfs). The local archdiocese told the Daily Mail that the “mental, emotional, spiritual, and physical stress caused by the pandemic made for a perfect storm for possessions and demonic intervention.”

    Thanks to Covid, demons are not only possessing people, but annoying them as well:

    Chief exorcist Father Jose Syquia says “full possession” only accounts for 20 per cent of all exorcisms, with the majority being performed on people who are being “harassed physically” by the evil spirits.

    Such “physical harassment” includes demons giving out wedgies, wet willies, and the “you got a spot on your shirt” nose-flicking thing.

    Father Syquia also told the Mail, “The devil has power over anything electrical. If I give a talk and use a certain gadget, the devil would easily shut it down because he’s an expert in anything electrical.”

    Thankfully, in a heartwarming display of interfaith unity, St. Michael’s has partnered with a Hindu call center in Bangalore to offer Windows security assistance for demon-possessed gadgets. Just give the Indians your password, social security number, and banking info, and those demons will be cast right out.

    As for exorcising the malware that’ll be left behind, the Church can’t help with that. But you might find a few enterprising Asian kids who didn’t say “policy” enough to get into college who’ll do a secular exorcism of your hard drive for a nominal fee.

    IF ANDREW CUOMO WERE AN ELEPHANT…

    Speaking of Indians…

    They say you should never meet your heroes.

    Or your gods.

    To Hindus, the elephant is a sacred being, the living incarnation of Ganesha, the god of wisdom, success, luck, and postmortem elder abuse.

    Last week, 70-year-old Maya Murmu was collecting water outside her village of Raipal, Eastern India, when she came across an elephant wandering through the forest.

    A sign of good fortune, surely, to have a random encounter with such a holy being. What wisdom would this magical beast convey to a humble, aged water-gatherer?

    Absolutely none. The elephant trampled Murmu like a kiddush cup at a Jewish wedding.

    The next evening, Murmu’s loved ones prepared a pyre to send Maflatma Murmu to the hereafter in the proper Hindu tradition. Murmu’s body, decked out in ceremonial dress and draped in flowers, was lovingly placed upon the woodpile, as mourners solemnly recited ritualistic prayers, in a scene of serenity and dignity.

    And then the elephant came back and kicked the livin’ crap out of the corpse. According to the Daily Mail, the exact same elephant crashed the funeral, “took Murmu’s body down (from the pyre), trampled her again, threw her around and went off into the night.”

    “I know he’s supposed to be a god and everything,” Murmu’s daughter told the Mail, “but man, that elephant’s a dick.”

    Indian authorities revealed that the elephant had traveled 200km from the Dalma Wildlife Sanctuary in Jharkhand just to kill Murmu and beat the snot out of her body at the funeral, which led one wildlife official to remark, “That elephant must’ve really hated that old bat.”

    They say elephants never forget, and apparently they also hold irrational grudges. The presence of animals that’ll murder your loved ones and come back to bust up the funeral like Don Ciccio in Godfather II sheds a little more light on why Indians are so desperate to immigrate to America.

    When you’ve dealt with elephants that travel 200km just to kill your grandma and abuse her corpse for the sadistic fun of it, subway muggers don’t seem so bad in comparison.
    Last edited by Anti Federalist; 06-19-2022 at 07:13 AM.
    "Truly, whoever can make you believe absurdities can make you commit atrocities." - Voltaire

  5. #214
    https://www.takimag.com/article/the-...-perished-196/

    The Week’s Most Mummering, Bummering, and Summering Headlines
    JUNETEENTH PICNIC: FREE KNUCKLE SAMMICHES!
    In the U.K., the day after Christmas is Boxing Day. In the U.S., the day after Juneteenth is Bagging Day, in which the gunfire casualties from the previous day’s celebrations are body-bagged.
    Juneteenth 2022 saw a relatively low mortality rate (double digits, a regular 1914 Christmas Truce level of peacefulness when grading on a black curve). There’s no immediate explanation for why there were fewer shootings this year, but one guess is that with Juneteenth falling on Father’s Day, many black men avoided the festivities, for fear of running into support-seeking baby mamas.
    That said, it wouldn’t be Juneteenth without at least one headline-worthy act of gratuitous violence.
    Louisville mayor Greg Fischer is a straight-down-the-line leftist white Democrat. He supports BLM, considers racism a “public health crisis,” and endlessly apologizes for his city’s past and present “oppression” of blacks.

    If he thinks that buys him “white guy cred,” he’s quite mistaken. Last weekend, while mingling with Juneteenth celebrants at the city’s Fourth Street Live shopping complex, Fischer was sucker punched by a black dude who decked the mayor to the ground and then calmly walked away, as if in America a black man can punch an elected official and leave the scene.
    NARRATOR: In America a black man can punch an elected official and leave the scene. Nobody, not even the mayor’s security detail, pursued the attacker.
    A Louisville slugger turned the mayor into Kentucky Fried Fischer. Happy Juneteenth, Charlie Brown!
    No word on whether Fischer will resign, because obviously he must’ve racismed that poor black guy to provoke such righteous fury.
    As for Fischer’s do-nothing security staff, they already have multiple job offers from Uvalde (that joke is in observance of TooSoonteenth).
    GIVING UP THE GHOST FOR LENTIL
    The thing about alcoholics dying of liver disease is, at least they enjoyed getting there. It was a fun ride to organ failure.

    Dying of liver disease due to lentils is another story entirely. Lentils are to vegans what Blade Runner is to movie buffs: Nobody actually likes it, but they have to pretend to in order to look cool to their friends.
    Daily Harvest is a vegan meal-delivery service backed by Gwyneth Paltrow and Serena Williams, two of the greatest medical minds in nutritional health, a regular Bimbocrates and Albert Schwartzer. Yet even with these two ricket scientists at the helm, last week Daily Harvest went Dust Bowel when its “French Lentil + Leek Crumbles” sent customers to the ER. Turns out the lentils were raw and disease-ridden, resulting in dozens of customers suffering permanent liver damage.
    Of course, there’s no way to tell if a vegan is terminally ill. They all have “resting death face.”
    The bad news for Daily Harvest is that when your customer base is millennial vegans, many of them are likely to be “influencers.” So the company is facing a barrage of negative publicity as TikTok and Instagram stars rant about their nonstop vomiting and diarrhea, which admittedly is more entertaining than the content they normally post.
    Trying to make the best of a bad situation, Daily Harvest has rebranded the lentil dish using a photo of Serena Williams and the caption “Like an overhead smash to your gut, it’ll be sudden death when you have a stroke and drop a deuce after we serve our no-fault lentils. Thanks for supporting our racket!”

    NIGHTHAWKS, BY EDWARD HOPHEAD

    And now, on to the one group more annoying than vegans…
    Imagine a late-night diner somewhere in California. The clientele comprises young morons who can’t stop expressing surprise that they’re smoking pot in public:
    Pothead: “Whoa, dude, can I do this?”
    Counterman: “Yes, for the tenth time, you can. This is a cannabis café.”
    Second Pothead: “Dude, check this out! I’m totally lighting up in public. Just let ’em try and stop me!”
    Counterman: “They’re not going to try and stop you; it’s a legal pot café.”

    Third Pothead: “Duuuuude, like, if they knew we were doing this we’d be so busted!”
    Counterman: “They do know, and you’re not busted.”
    The big thing in California right now is “weed cafés,” where, thanks to the state’s 2016 referendum legalizing pot, stoners can toke openly. You might wonder why stoners are flocking to these places like they’re a novelty. Medicinal pot (i.e., pot for anyone with insomnia or anxiety, meaning everyone) was legalized in California almost thirty years ago, so the notion of open smoking shouldn’t be so exciting. But pot users are like vegans, except with damage to the brain instead of the liver. Everything’s a novelty when you can’t remember last week.
    So, like idiots, the state’s Cheech and Bongs are frequenting these cafés just to giggle like retards, “I’m blazin’ in public and the Man can’t stop me!”
    Plus, like vegans, stoners love evangelizing about the supposed benefits of their fetish. “The Mayans used hemp to build the pyramids, and, like, the Native Americans smoked pot every day and that’s why they’re so healthy.”
    California lawmakers are trying to reconcile the explosion of pot cafés with the state’s ban on indoor smoking, but considering that many cities in the state don’t prosecute murder or assault, no one’s really sweating the enforcement issue.
    Plus, at least California politicians can say, “Thank God we’re not Oregon.”
    Speaking of which…
    PACIFIC NORTHMESSED
    Welcome to the Oregon LSD Trail…and it’s a trail of corpses. A rugged land of rain forests and Rain Men: politicians who defund the police and then marvel at the concomitant rise in crime as though such a thing was unexpected, and voters who approve a ballot measure decriminalizing hard drugs—including heroin, methamphetamine, LSD, and oxycodone—and then stand aghast when their streets become littered with dead junkies.
    2020’s Ballot Measure 110, a.k.a. “The Useless Eaters Elimination Act,” has led to a 41 percent rise in overdose deaths in the state, with more than 1,069 in 2021 and 2022 on track to break that record. Cities like Portland have become open-air markets for homeless druggies, living monuments to Oregon’s favorite son, River Phoenix, a shooting (up) star who burned his crack pipe at both ends.
    But one brave suburban Portland mayoral candidate has a plan to warehouse the problem: Leslie Wright, a black gentleman and former Marine, wants to put the homeless addicts in tiny pods like them Japanese hotels:
    Have you ever seen the Japanese people, how they live? They live in these small, compact areas. We’re gonna take each one of those [homeless] people and give them their own little area and give them an address.
    A perfect plan! No flaw at all. Except for the fact that the Japanese don’t fill their capsule hotel pods with feces and meth. Other than that, Wright’s plan should work like a charm. Surely being housed in a coffin won’t trigger psychotic episodes in drug-addled schizos.
    When Wright’s plan was criticized, not for its impracticality but for its “racism” at invoking WWII Japanese internment (remember, it’s Oregon, where stupid things can only be criticized for stupid reasons), a chastened Wright told the local press, “I was disappointed and dismayed about my reference to the Japanese people.”
    He’s told himself that if he doesn’t start speaking smarter, he’ll lose his vote.
    Just what the city needs: a mayor who sounds like he’s on drugs himself.
    THE ELEPHANT TRANSMAN
    Remember the days when tabloids ran features about the worst plastic surgeries in Hollywood? Cruel, mocking stories (always featuring Bruce Jenner) about bad nose jobs and grotesque face-lifts and chin implants.
    What ignorant times! Back then, human deformity was seen as something to avoid, rather than encourage. How much more enlightened we are now. In this progressive age, we understand that the very best thing you can do for a teenager, especially a teenage white girl, is encourage them to get Elephant Manned by some psychotic butcher who gets Obamacare subsidies to disfigure children.
    “I am not an animal! I am stunning and brave!”
    Fast-tracking teen girls into the tranny mutilation machine has reached assembly-line efficiency, with thousands of quacks bypassing parental consent in order to turn scores of “shes” into “its.”
    As doctors compete to see how many severed breasts they can accumulate per month, Mengele looks up from hell saying, “Damn, talk about being born before your time.”
    Unfortunately, a growing group of ingrates—girls who are oddly bitter that charlatans maimed them for life—are speaking publicly about how they wish doctors hadn’t been so quick to carve them up. A New York Post piece last week detailed the stories of several teen girls who’d been coerced into transforming into medical monstrosities by social media pressure, peer bias against “cis white girls,” and doctors who give out tranny-pills like an octogenarian tossing breadcrumbs to ducks. The girls, who had their breasts lopped off and their features wrecked by injections, have a host of malformations, from Robert Z’Dar jawlines to Zach Galifianakis-level unwanted hair.
    And on Twitter last week, a thread went viral in which a boy-to-girl “transitioner” graphically explained what “she” became after surgery:
    No one told me that the base area of your penis is left, it can’t be removed—meaning you’re left with a literal stump inside that twitches. You wake up with morning wood, without the tree. I have random pockets of sensation that only seem to pick up pain, rather than pleasure.
    How did a profession that used to quiver at the thought of malpractice suits become a league of reckless mutilators?
    We used to despise ambulance-chasing lawyers. But boy, are they missed today!
    Never attempt to teach a pig to sing; it wastes your time and annoys the pig.

    Robert Heinlein

    Give a man an inch and right away he thinks he's a ruler

    Groucho Marx

    I love mankind…it’s people I can’t stand.

    Linus, from the Peanuts comic

    You cannot have liberty without morality and morality without faith

    Alexis de Torqueville

    Those who fail to learn from the past are condemned to repeat it.
    Those who learn from the past are condemned to watch everybody else repeat it

    A Zero Hedge comment

  6. #215
    https://www.takimag.com/article/the-...-perished-197/

    The Week’s Most Sniping, Griping, and Stars-and-Striping Headlines
    MORE THAN A WOMB ’UN
    The womb is back, and wetter than ever. After years of stern lectures from leftists about how “woman” is a social construct and biological “parts” are irrelevant to gender, the end of Roe has made “parts” the comeback story of the year.
    Last week, Cher (who, due to decades of plastic surgery, is no longer technically male or female but a synthetic compound of rubber, metal, polyethylene, silicone, and ShamWows) tweeted (all words capitalized, like a reverse e.e. cummings):
    If Every time Men Had Sex, They Risked Death, Physical Disability, A Life Altering Interruption In Their Education, Or Career, & The Sudden Life Long Responsibility For Another Human Being, I Think They’d Expect A Choice In The Matter
    So even e.e. dumbings admits that what makes a woman a woman is the ability to conceive (or at least ownership of the necessary parts).

    Needless to say, Cher was attacked by gypsies, trans, and thieves, but she remained unbowed: Parts make the woman.
    “Boobs…I got you, boobs.”

    Of course, Cher could afford to have a spine of iron, considering that she literally has a spine made of iron. But some of her younger “feminist” allies folded pretty quick. Like Gina Darling, the Vietnamese-American internet irritant whose résumé is all scare quotes (“gamer,” “influencer,” “talented,” “deserving” of “fame”). Darling, the kind of VC who makes William Calley want to suit up again, tweeted “If men were able to get pregnant, this would’ve never been up for discussion $#@! this backward ass $#@!.” However, after being schooled in how men totally can get pregnant, the Chi Minh ho apologized: “Oh wait. Pardon my wording, not sure what the proper wording is for this but I guess…people born with male reproductive organs? If that’s not correct, pls educate me. Sorry if that came off as transphobic.”
    Yes, parts are back. But there’s still some confusion as to where they fit.
    NIGERIANS RAZE THE ROOF
    A young African sits in his living room, contemplating life.
    Mboku: “Nigeria may not be paradise, but at least I have a roof over my head.”

    [Massive cracking sound from above]
    Mboku: “Oh, crap.”
    As Americans worry about the bottom falling out of the housing market, Nigerians worry about falling tops. Forget the housing bubble; we’re talkin’ housing rubble. Africa’s most populous nation (216 million people. To put that figure in perspective, that’s almost half the number of genders claimed by Ezra Miller) has a building problem. In that, its architects can’t build.

    Structures in Nigeria keep falling down. One hundred and sixty-seven, according to records kept by a U.N. researcher unironically named Habeeb. All over the country, buildings are going down faster than Kamala Harris when she meets a man who can help her career. Hundreds have been killed and more than 6,000 households displaced (residential structures account for 78 percent of the collapses), to the tune of $3.2 trillion in losses.
    Now do you see why those Nigerian princes need your help?

    Human error in construction is the most common reason for the collapses; turns out, compasses, levels, and T-squares are more helpful to architects than the blessing of a broom-god coated with goat dung. As Nigeria’s population skyrockets, the nation’s landlords have a bad habit of adding floors to buildings without permits, safety inspections, or brick, mortar, and steel.
    Habeeb concludes that Nigeria’s housing BOOM can only be fixed by overcoming the endemic corruption and incompetence that led to it.
    In other words, it can’t be fixed.
    Mboku: “Oh well, at least as I live on my debris heap, I know things can’t get worse.”
    (Daily Beast headline: “Monkeypox epicenter in Nigeria likely a lot worse than we think”)
    Mboku: “Oh, crap!”
    NEED A LYFT? CALL HINDUBER!
    Maybe what Nigeria needs is Mexicans. After all, even Mexicans can hammer nails (“Even Mexicans can do it” is the universal standard for pointing out incompetence). Sure, Nigeria is far from Juarez, but now that Biden’s thrown open the border, Mexicans are learning that proximity ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.


    Last week, authorities in San Antonio came across an abandoned tractor-trailer containing the corpses of 46 Mexican migrants. The frijoles refritos had been left in 103-degree temperatures by smugglers; police claimed the bodies were “hot to the touch” when found.
    Maybe a nice boat ride to Lagos ain’t such a bad idea in comparison.
    Biden refused to take responsibility for “the Mexican food truck that overcooked some tacos.” When his advisers corrected him that it was actually a Mexican dude truck that overcooked some Pacos, Biden waved them off, as he had an important meeting with dissident anti-Putin military officials (it was actually just Hunter’s Russian whores, but nobody had the heart to tell him).
    While Mexicans are baking like tortillas as they try to enter the U.S. illegally, up north, Indians are demonstrating how to gate-crash in style.
    A 48-year-old Punjabi named Pal Singh was arrested by the feds for running a human-smuggling scam involving a network of Ubers. Pal Punjoey would have one of his drivers pick up an illegal in Canada (the preferred landing point for Indians, who are drawn to Justin Trudeau’s “retarded monkey” Hindu dancing) and chauffeur him across the border, where he’d be transferred to another Uber, then another, so that by the time the invader reached his target city (sometimes California, sometimes the Midwest), there’d be no traceable line from the border to the destination. The Ubers were connected by a network of burner phones.
    Convoluted? Sure. But these are people who worship twenty-armed elephant-lobsters with fifty ears and snakes for legs. They’re used to convoluted.
    Singh charged $11,500 per trip, and worst of all, he’d give you a one-star passenger rating if you didn’t tip.
    Still, none of his illegals were roasted to death in 103-degree temps. $11,500 is a lot of money, but it beats becoming human tandoori.
    HER MUDDER’S A MUDDER
    Speaking of convoluted Indians…Pal Singh’s circuitous journeys at least had a destination. But for our half-Indian veep, the circuitous journey is the destination. Arguably, no one on the political scene has a greater ability to speak in circles than Kamala Harris.
    Take last week, when VP McCackles was asked by CNN for her opinion on the death of Roe v. Wade.
    Her reply:
    You know, I’ve thought about it as, you know, a parent, and as an aunt of preschool children. As a woman myself. And a daughter of a woman. And a granddaughter of a woman. Everybody has something at risk on this. First of all, if you are the parent of sons. Do think about what this means for the life of your son.
    Well, who can argue with that? Harris’ mother was a woman. And her grandmother was a woman.
    It’s still a more soundly reasoned argument than the one Blackmun used for Roe itself.
    The odd thing is, Harris had no reason to be vague about abortion. It wasn’t like she was asked about inflation or the border or any of the things about which Democrats can only stammer. The Dem party line on abortion is carved in stone; all she had to do was recite it.
    For her, speaking without speaking isn’t about evasion. It’s all she’s capable of.
    It’s tempting to wonder how a Kamala Gettysburg Address would’ve gone.

    Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers, and I have a father, right? And his father’s the grandfather of me, brought forth on this continent, because that’s where we are, right? [Cackles] A continent, but also a new nation on that continent, right? You know what I mean? [Cackles louder] For us the living, and I’m living, and you’re living, so think about living, and our sons are living, right? And we don’t wanna perish, right? [Cackles hysterically]
    Kamala Harris: the greatest American orator since Webster (not Daniel, but Emmanuel Lewis).
    LITTLE GIRL (BLACK AND) BLUE
    It’s a common sight gag in American comedies: An adult beats up kids and feels proud. Kramer and the karate class, Adam Sandler creaming kids in dodgeball in Billy Madison, Will Ferrell beating up child bullies in Step Brothers, Will Ferrell punching a baby in The Campaign (Ferrell recycling a gag? No!), Melissa McCarthy beating up Girl Scouts in The Boss, and the Always Sunny in Philadelphia gang plagiarizing the bit from Step Brothers.

    It’s only funny ’cause it’s fiction. In real life, an adult taking pleasure in decimating a child isn’t funny…it’s psychotic.
    So meet a psycho: Richard Batres is a Guatemalan tranny, father of three, and former U.S. Navy petty officer (after deciding to become a woman, Batres earned the new rank of rear admiral lower-half).
    Now known as “Ricci Tres,” Batres spends his time destroying the hopes and dreams of little girls by beating them in female skateboarding competitions.
    Last week, the 29-year-old Batres, who refuses to “transition” hormonally because he claims morphing into a woman is about “decisions and feelings,” not physicality, demolished 13-year-old Shiloh Catori in the girls’ division of the Boardr skateboard championship in NYC. Afterward, he did a victory lap in the press, bragging about how he swiped a trophy and prize money from a child.
    “Petty” officer? That’s an understatement.
    In defeat, young Shiloh praised Batres’ “courage” (because it takes a great deal of bravery for a grown man to physically dominate a kid). Batres’ Guatemalan father, however, reacted to his son’s campaign of child cruelty by angrily telling him in Spanish, “I need you to go $#@! yourself.”
    And with that, on this Fourth of July, a Guatemalan speaks for all Americans.
    Never attempt to teach a pig to sing; it wastes your time and annoys the pig.

    Robert Heinlein

    Give a man an inch and right away he thinks he's a ruler

    Groucho Marx

    I love mankind…it’s people I can’t stand.

    Linus, from the Peanuts comic

    You cannot have liberty without morality and morality without faith

    Alexis de Torqueville

    Those who fail to learn from the past are condemned to repeat it.
    Those who learn from the past are condemned to watch everybody else repeat it

    A Zero Hedge comment

  7. #216
    The Week That Perished

    https://www.takimag.com/article/the-...-perished-198/

    Takimag

    July 09, 2022

    The Week’s Most Decaying, Soothsaying, and Dog-Daying Headlines

    BLACK IS FLAMMABLE

    “Burn baby burn” is all fun and games until someone makes it literal.

    The African People’s Socialist Party is a black separatist hate group dedicated to killing whitey and establishing a black ethnostate at the local Popeyes. The org has its “headquarters” (a.k.a. Jamaal’s mom’s crib) in St. Petersburg, Fla. Nicknamed “Uhuru House” (Jamaal’s mom: “Don’t you be paintin’ no Star Trek foolishness on my garage”), the HQ features a massive “pan-African flag” flying proudly on a pole outside, as a beacon to blacks far and wide.

    Historical note: No good has ever come from setting off a beacon to blacks far and wide.

    Last weekend, Uhuru House got a visitor, a stranger who parked by the flagpole.

    Uhuru leader Omali Yeshitela, whose brain is best described by the four letters in the middle of his surname, saw the newcomer and exclaimed, “Welcome to the revolution!”

    And the stranger pulled out a flamethrower, aimed it at the pole, and turned the flag from pan-African to pan-fried.

    Then he drove away. A man of few words burned the flag of a few turds.

    The story went national. The AP, describing the hate group’s goal as “uniting African people as one for liberation, social justice, self-reliance and economic development,” likened the flag flambé to a white-supremacist mass shooting.

    The local CBS affiliate spent thirty minutes on the incident (CBS apparently stands for “Covering Bull$#@! Stories”).

    Only the Miami Herald had the journalism chops to point out that the flag-flaming “terrorist” was black.

    Yes, a black man burned the coloreds’ colors. Forget the revolution; dude brought the immolation.

    This fiery godfather was no Uhuru, but a hero.

    WASHINGTON CHAINSAW MASSACRE: LEATHERBALLS

    Pride Month may be over, but not before leaving us with one final vomit-inducing tale.

    In The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Leatherface lived in a rural slaughterhouse where he removed people’s faces and wore them as his own, decorating his home with discarded body parts.

    That’s a horror film.

    In Washington State, two trannies ran a rural slaughterhouse where they lopped off breasts, scooped out balls, and snipped penises with instruments bought off eBay.

    That’s a feel-good Pride Month story.

    These days, Texas Chainsaw could be repackaged as an award-winning film about a brave transman who felt uncomfortable in his own skin so he transitioned to other skins while avoiding the fascist police in Greg Abbott’s Texas.

    The Washington State maim-saw massacre was perpetrated by tranny software developer Eilís Ní Fhlannagáin and mad-scientist sidekick “Willow,” who began their underground butchery after Fhlannagáin persuaded Willow to castrate him at home in his recliner. Fhlannagáin nearly bled to death, but that didn’t stop the two cutups from offering their services to others.

    Using a tractor barn, the two “doctors” relieved mentally disturbed individuals of whatever body parts they sought to lose. Only one rule: Take your balls with you when you go. Because leaving your testicles behind after having them gouged out in a barn is so gauche.

    According to Fhlannagáin, the Washington Board of Health knew of and approved the “clinic,” though the first inspection was almost ruined when the examiners nearly encountered some stray balls lying on the floor (hence the “come with your nads, leave with your nads” policy). Willow pocketed the cojones just in time!

    As reported last week in The Independent, during the pandemic, the two transmen-geles went their separate ways.

    But they’ll always have the memories.

    And that spare set of balls.

    THE BIG CRAPPLE

    During his tumultuous tenure as mayor of New York, as Ed Koch guided the city from the filth and crime-ridden 1970s into the filth and crime-ridden 1980s (same as the ’70s except with Sonic Youth and coke), he’d ride the subways cheerfully voicing his catchphrase, “How’m I doin’?”

    NYC’s current mayor Eric Adams has his own similar catchphrase: “Why you booin’?”

    Poor Adams, elected to curb crime, has been kicked to the curb by criminals, who can’t stop shooting everything in sight.

    Their catchphrase? “Pow-pow-pow I’m doin’.”

    July 4 saw 31 people shot in 24 separate incidents, including a man in Central Park shot in the neck, another shot in the chest, another in the torso, yet another in the hip, two men shot in the head, and two men and a woman shot in the arms and legs while their friend was shot in the shoulder.

    Welcome to New York body-parts bullet bingo!

    Worst of all for Mayor “Up I’m screwin’,” his own aide was mugged while scouting locations for a speech (“Hmm…the intersection of Tawana Brawley Ave. and Colin Ferguson Road…perfect!”). Democrat white-boy Christopher Baugh was confronted by two black males who demanded his wallet and phone. According to the New York Post, Baugh responded, “You don’t want to do this; I work for the mayor.”

    That did not deter the thieves.

    He then demanded to see their manager.

    That, too, failed to dissuade the thugs.

    Finally, he asked for their Twitter handles so he could get them banned. At that point, the muggers pulled a gun and beat the poor bastard to the ground, taking his possessions as he relieved himself in fear (“Yow, I’m pooin’”).

    Later that day, Mayor Adams gave a speech about how no law-abiding citizen in NYC needs a gun for self-protection, as Baugh and all the other victims of violent crime listened disapprovingly, seething in silent disagreement.

    “Now I’m stewin.’”

    WALLACE AND SCROMIT

    It seemed like an impossible task: “How can we make stoners even more annoying?”

    You might as well ask, “How can we make Siberia colder?” or “How can we make Michael Moore fatter?”

    Stoners are already lazy, shiftless, self-righteous, unreliable dunderheads who won’t stop pestering the rest of us about the “wonders” of their miracle weed, as they define their entire existence by their relationship with the organic version of paint-huffing.

    Surely, such good-for-nothing irritants can’t get more annoying.

    Wrong, narc!

    Behold “scromiting.”

    Thanks to marijuana legalization in states like California (where the outsider at any given party is the person not blazing), plus the increased potency of today’s strains of MJ, “cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome” has reached epidemic levels among chronic potheads. “CHS” causes liver failure, severe dehydration, and rapid weight loss. But worst of all it causes “scromiting,” a portmanteau of “screaming” and “vomiting.”

    “Alcoholics have their barflies, but potheads have their barf-lies.”
    So now tokers are wandering the streets of L.A. projectile vomiting while shrieking like banshees.

    Success! Stoners have become more annoying.

    On the upside, tourists walking through Beverly Hills get to see unique, star-studded extravaganzas of sight, sound, and stench:

    “Oh look, honey, there’s Seth Rogen puking on Woody Harrelson!”

    And in New York, now that Pete Davidson is supplementing his everyday vibe (summarized as “terminal AIDS patient meets Bergen-Belsen corpse meets Mike Tyson’s rejected tats”) with nonstop retching and eardrum-splitting screams, it’s guaranteed he’ll attract even more famous women as paramours.

    Of course, stoners are so committed to their bit, even as they’re puking their guts out, they’ll still insist pot cures nausea.

    Alcoholics have their barflies, but potheads have their barf-lies.

    WHERE THE ELITE MEET TO EAT, BLEAT, AND SHOOT PAUPERS LIKE SKEET

    You can bet there’s plenty of scromiting going on at Sun Valley right now, as the world’s business elites gather for their annual “summer camp for billionaires.” As Elon Musk lights up in his private jet, trying to remember that thing he was so excited about buying two months ago (“Dammit…it had something to do with free speech. What was it?”), as George Soros arrives in a Gulfstream fueled entirely by the oily subcutaneous fat of people murdered by decarcerated felons, and as Jeff Bezos arrives four days late covered in boot footprints, with a broken arm, clothes that don’t fit, and one shoe missing (he flew Prime), the participants look forward to a week of fun and games, even under the pall cast by the fact that their regular entertainment director, Ghislaine Maxwell, is otherwise occupied being fitted for a noose by a man who’s definitely not Mossad and a woman whose name definitely doesn’t rhyme with Fillary Glinton.

    One billionaire who’s finding it difficult to enjoy himself even with all the sex slave girls in leather dog collars tethered to giant platters of caviar and blow is Warner Bros. CEO David Zaslav.

    Poor Zaslav. The last time a CEO had this many fires to extinguish, the chief of PG&E was filling out bankruptcy papers. No sooner had Zaslav told reporters at the summit that he planned to transform CNN from an “advocacy network” into an unbiased purveyor of hard news, his star business reporter and illiterate mouthbreather Nicole Goodkind penned a piece claiming that recession forecasts can’t be trusted because the economists are white.

    Who cares if you can’t afford food or gas, Goodkind lectured. There’s no recession unless it’s declared by an illegal immigrant tranny Peruvian Asháninka Indian with Down syndrome.

    Yet as bad as the CNN problem is, it pales in comparison to Zaslav’s Marvel movie issues. He’s got a rebellion on his hands regarding Aquaman 2, with millions of fans demanding the redaction of spousal abuser Amber Heard (who always sets her Sleep Number Adjustable Bed to “number two”).

    And Zaslav also has to contend with Ezra Miller, his “nonbinary” Flash star whose one-transman crime wave against women, children, and beasts makes the Night Stalker look like a kindly uncle.

    Still, Zaslav isn’t letting his problems get him down. Later that night, there he was, dancing up a storm at the summit’s opening-night sacrifice to Moloch.
    Last edited by Anti Federalist; 07-11-2022 at 04:24 AM.
    "Truly, whoever can make you believe absurdities can make you commit atrocities." - Voltaire



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  9. #217
    The Week That Perished

    https://www.takimag.com/article/the-...-perished-199/

    Takimag

    July 16, 2022

    The Week’s Most Newtonian, Draconian, and Babylonian Headlines

    YOU WIN SOME, YOU NEWSOM

    California’s name is attached to many things. The California roll, the California Zephyr, the California king mattress (big enough to accommodate twenty illegal aliens), the California grizzly (once numerous, now extinct, like the California GOP), and California hopscotch (walking down a city sidewalk avoiding human feces).

    And now, here are a few others:

    “California liability.” Last week, smiling Stalinist Gavin Newsom signed a bill making gun dealers and makers responsible for any and all actions taken by gun buyers post-purchase. Gun dealers and manufacturers now have a lifetime responsibility for what people who pass background checks do with their guns.

    In response, Clarence Thomas grinned and said, “Thanks for the next test case that’ll allow us to expand the 2nd even more, dumbasses.”

    Ironically, in many California cities, gun crimes aren’t prosecuted. Hence the uniqueness of California liability: Only the makers of guns are responsible, not the criminals who misuse them.

    And then there’s the “California boycott.”

    California law forbids state-funded travel to Montana, because Montana doesn’t allow pedo trannies in girls’ locker rooms. So California declared, “You shall have none of our business. Good day, sir. I mean zir. Or is it xzem?”

    Problem is, guess where Newsom just took his family on summer vacation…Montana!

    After being caught red(state)-handed, Newsom explained that it’s okay because he’s paying for the trip with his money, not state money.

    So much for the point of a boycott being to deprive something of money. Behold the California boycott, where spending your own money is fine; you just prevent others from spending theirs.

    Makes as much sense as anything in that state.

    DORA THE EX-SCHNORRER

    Q’orianka Kilcher is a person and not a variety of tropical peat moss. The German-born 32-year-old actress is the offspring of a Swiss-German mother and a bare-assed bone-through-the-nose Quechua-Huachipaeri indigenous Peruvian. How a bare-assed Peruvian native ever made it to Baden-Württemberg is anyone’s guess, but the most likely explanation is that he fell into a crate of mangoes scheduled for export and ended up scaring the livin’ hell out of the poor kraut who opened the container (“Ach! Wildermann nicht mango!”).

    Q’orianka was raised in Hawaii, where, even though she was not of the native ethnicity, she was accepted by the locals thanks to the unspoken “band of the bare-assed,” a pantsless bond thicker than DNA. As an actress, parlaying her ethnicity to portray Pocahontas, Princess Ka’iulani, and Te Ata Fisher, Q’orianka became a major player in the brown people grievance movement, launching her own org to fight racism, corporate greed, and public decency codes that mandate trousers.

    It was while playing Incan Princess Kawillaka in the Dora the Explorer sequel Dora Flees Ohio for an Abortion that Q’orianka had a Q’oopsie, injuring her shoulder under the weight of her giant chip. She pocketed $96,838 in workers’ comp, claiming that the injury prevented her from performing on set.

    Last week, authorities in L.A. Q’arrested Q’orianka for workers’ comp fraud. Turns out, at the exact same time she was collecting benefits because her injuries “prevented her from acting,” she was shooting episodes of the Paramount series Yellowstone, where she portrayed a squaw named “Sacagawelfare.” Apparently, it never crossed Q’orianka’s mind that her TV appearances would be seen by the people she lied to.

    There’s that Quechua-Huachipaeri genius!

    Note to future Hollywood insurance fraudsters: If you want to grab some work while claiming to be incapacitated, at least choose a show nobody watches.

    Like anything with Amy Schumer. Guaranteed, your secret will be safe.

    IN THE SHADOW OF KILL-A-MAN-JARO

    While L.A.’s finest put Q’orianka Kilcher behind bars, over in Africa, Zambia’s finest were hot on the trail of another most-wanted entertainment industry miscreant.

    Sadly, “Zambia’s finest” is a 4,000-pound hippo named “Fatto Fbunta,” and he moves really slow (Fatto once attended a criminology class at Scotland Yard, but he was expelled for pooing, like, everywhere).

    Zambian authorities are seeking the arrest of American best-selling author Delia Owens, whose megahit Where the Crawdads Sing topped the New York Times best-seller list for a whopping 32 weeks in 2019 (performing better than its sequel, Where the Black Eyed Peas Sing, which failed to sell a single copy as nobody wanted to know the answer). Owens and her ex-husband, who spent several decades in Africa as conservationists protecting the wildlife from Africans who think giraffes are demons and Chinese who hunt cheetahs for their testicles, are accused of killing an African poacher in 1996.

    Why’d it take so long for Zambian authorities to finally move on the crime?

    Well, to begin with, “one African shot dead” registers pretty low on the list of priorities in sub-Saharan nations. First you have to clear the board of millions of Africans dead from genocide, famine, drought, war, Ebola, monkeypox, malaria, cholera, AIDS, and gorillas driven to homicide by nonstop Youssou N’Dour radio rotation, before attention can be given to that one lone African poacher shot in 1996.

    Plus, every time the Zambian government was about to put the finishing touches on an arrest warrant, a bloody coup set the entire process back to square one.

    As reported last week in The Atlantic, Zambian authorities appear ready to finally pursue Ms. Owens (who currently resides in Idaho). Zambian Parliament members Elvis Chishala Nkandu and Twaambo Elvis Mutinta were put in charge of drafting the extradition request, but they killed each other in a dispute over blue suede izimbadadas.

    Doesn’t matter anyway, as the U.S. has no extradition treaty with Zambia.

    Welcome to Zambia CSI (Chewa-Speaking Imbeciles).

    CAN NIP CANUCK?

    Remember the classic Kurosawa film Seven-Gendered Samurai? Toshiro Mifune played a nonbinary ronin who’d wander from village to village getting misgendered by warlords, at which point he’d demand to speak to the village’s manager and get the warlords banned from social activities.

    Nobody wants to see the Japanese go woke. Last week, a new law took effect in which Japs who post “online insults” will get up to a year in jail (five years for white incels who confuse anime fandom with having an actual personality).

    The law was spurred by the case of Hana Kimura, a 22-year-old pro wrestler and reality TV star who committed suicide in 2020 because of “cyberbullying.” For some reason this sent shock waves through Japanese society…odd when you consider that this is a nation where suicide is seen as the appropriate response to pretty much everything.

    Japanese free-speech activists are wary of the new law, with Tokyo attorney Seiho Cho telling CNN, “At the moment, even if someone calls the leader of Japan an idiot, then maybe under the revised law that could be classed as an insult.”

    One would think that right now, of all times, Japanese politicians would be happy if the only thing disgruntled constituents fired off were insults.

    If the Japanese want to see the inevitable result of speech regulations, nippon this: In Montreal last week, the trial of a man who posted online pro-Nazi “satire” became Cirque du So-Lame when the judge refused to accept as historical fact that Nazi ideology led to anti-Jewish measures in the Third Reich, while the accused’s defense team argued that Jews were only killed in Nazi Germany to “save money.” The judge ordered the trial to reconvene when prosecutors could prove that Nazi ideology was anti-Jewish, while defense lawyers promised to show that the Nazis saved a bunch of money on their car insurance by switching to Goyco.

    The entire clown show only occurred because Canada insists on prosecuting “bad” speech.

    Dear Japan: The reason the world respects you is because you’re not Canada.

    Please, don’t be Canada.

    BRILLIANT ACADEMIC IN ENCHILADA TROUBLE

    Dr. Jill Biden is the smartest and most respected Dr. in the entire world. As her husband, Joe, will tell you (when he’s not preoccupied with finding the toucan that can lead him to Froot Loops), Dr. Jill ain’t no simple Jack (and Hunter ain’t no simple crack).

    So it was hugely surprising last week to hear Dr. Jill, a woman whose university dissertation contains so many misspellings it was initially thought to be written in Sanskrit, make a public gaffe.

    Not Dr. Jill!

    While addressing a progressive “Latinx” org last week, Dr. Bidenx (in prepared remarks, not off-the-cuff) uttered lines that would be thought over-the-top in a sitcom about a condescending elitist white woman pretending to know Hispanic culture. First, she congratulated the Latinxes on their “bodegas,” which she mispronounced as “bo-diggas” (remember Bo Digga? Great blues guitarist). Then she complimented the Latinx community for being “as unique as the breakfast tacos here in San Antonio.”

    For some reason, Hispanics around the nation objected to being compared to food. All except for the Frito Bandito, who shot his guns in the air and exclaimed, “¡Ay yi yi Señora Biden es muy Mexicano!”

    A spokeswomanx for Dr. Jill apologized for the taco talk, digging the hole deeper by adding, “If cheesed-off Mexicans have any beef with the comments, we encourage them to soften their hard shell. This might sound corny, but we’ve all bean there, so lettuce be mild not spicy and live and let olive, you rap-scallions.”

    Being a dedicated husband, Joe Biden took the heat off his wife by making an even more idiotic blunder a day later, launching his Israel trip by telling a crowd of nonplussed nebbishes that he planned to “keep alive the honor of the Holocaust” during his visit to the “hollowed ground” of “Yad Shavem” (which is apparently a barbershop).

    Dr. Jill and Dr. Demento…traveling the world insulting races and ethnicities like Cartman Sandiego.
    Last edited by Anti Federalist; 07-19-2022 at 03:27 PM.
    "Truly, whoever can make you believe absurdities can make you commit atrocities." - Voltaire

  10. #218
    The Week That Perished

    https://www.takimag.com/article/the-...-perished-200/

    Takimag

    July 24, 2022

    The Week That Perished

    The Week’s Most Craving, Slaving, and Heat-Waving Headlines

    GIVING BLACKS THE BIG BIRD

    Over the years, Sesame Street has pandered to the “diversity and inclusion” crowd with numerous episodes aimed at black kids. Same message, again and again: Your color makes you special.

    Last year the show even introduced the new characters Kermit Till and his friend Tusky-G the rapping syphilitic elephant.

    But now all that good work’s been flushed down the toilet thanks to Sesame Street’s open-borders policy. “Rosita” is the show’s first bilingual Muppet. Hailing from Mexico, the character gives children valuable lessons in cultural tolerance and drywall installation.

    Sesame Place is a Bucks County, Penn., Sesame Street-themed amusement park owned by Sea World and licensed by the government-funded PBS show. Last week, at the park’s daily Reaming of the Taxpayers Parade, two little black girls were watching the beloved characters march by when along came Rosita, waving at onlookers and high-fiving a bunch of white kids and parents.

    The two black girls reached out to hug Rosita, but she shook her head “no” and waved them off, coldly marching away as the crestfallen children tearfully came to terms with how insignificant they are to this Mexican immigrant Muppet.

    And with that, Sesame Street provided its first useful lesson in fifty years.

    Yes, black Americans, the Rositas marching through our open borders don’t like you, don’t want to deal with you, and in the end will render you irrelevant.

    These days, that’s a way more important lesson than counting to five cookies.

    The park, of course, apologized. But one suspects that the bitterness and resentment felt by the two girls will one day be visited upon workers at a McDonald’s who are late with an order of fries.

    Sesame Park’s motto is “Go Before They Grow.”

    A wise warning to anyone in the presence of angry black children.

    THE GROIN MILE

    I must admit I didn’t think much of Demi first time I laid eyes on him. Looked like a stiff breeze could blow him over. Also, looked like in a breeze he could blow someone stiff. That was my first impression of the man. That tall drink of water with the silver spoon up his ass…well, hopefully it’s just a spoon.

    —The Shawshank Redemption (Stephen King’s 2022 woke update)

    You’ve heard of Demi Moore; now meet Demi Lots Moore. “Female” convicted murderer Demetrius “Demi” Minor is more than a woman, in a major way. “She” has a penis, testicles, and everything else dudes have.

    Because Demi Minor’s a dude. But don’t tell that to New Jersey correctional officials, because they think Minor’s a woman. After all, he told them so. And why would a dude serving a thirty-year manslaughter stint lie about that?

    Oh, right; so he could be housed among women. Which he was. And he wouldn’t stop knocking ’em up. After multiple pregnancies resulted from his time at the Edna Mahan Correctional Facility for Women, last week the 27-year-old Minor was transferred to the all-male Garden State Youth Correctional Facility.

    And now poor Demi worries that he’ll be the victim of sexually predatory men (while he was born with a penis, he was not born with an appreciation of irony).

    Minor’s story was told in a teary NBC News profile last week authored by ace scribe Tat Bellamy-Walker, whose Twitter bio lists his occupation as “Desk Assistant for diversity verticals.”

    So if you need new multicolored blinds for your windows, you know who to contact.

    In his article, Tat Pullcord-Shutterman links to Minor’s website, which explains that he’s only in prison because he “mistakenly” killed his stepfather over “misplaced hostility.”

    Oopsie!

    The website features multiple photos of Minor, who makes Biden administration monstrosity “Rachel” Levine look doable. It’s impossible to view Minor’s photos without thinking of the moment Schwarzenegger saw the Predator’s face.

    Minor has vowed to fight for the right to return to female lockup, and the accompanying right to force himself on female inmates.

    And with the ACLU’s help, perhaps soon the Bird Transman of Alcatraz can return to Ménage-à-Trois-shank.

    ESTHER, QUEEN OF THE BLACK ISRAELITES

    It’s nice to see something good finally happen to a Jewish-American princess. Marta Kauffman has always had to struggle. Growing up in an upscale 92 percent white Pennsylvania suburb, Kauffman was forced to attend school with Christians, an experience that she’d later tell the Jewish Journal scarred her for life.

    Leaving behind the horrors of pricey suburbia, Kauffman attended a small community college called Brandeis, paying her way by working double shifts at the local shrieking yenta factory.

    Following college, Kauffman hitchhiked to L.A. on a private jet, where she began a career in Hollywood, a town not known for employing Jews. In 1994 fortune finally smiled on Kauffman when she co-created a sitcom called Friends, which became a massive hit due to a 1990s explosion in Down syndrome TV ownership.

    Yet even that endeavor brought no happiness. According to the Journal, “When the show went off the air, Kauffman found that although she’d created a Hollywood legacy, she needed to reinvent herself to stay current.”

    That was 2004. And in the spirit of “look, do you want it done fast or done well?” last week Kauffman finally announced that reinvention: She’s decided to become Queen of the Blacks. Admitting her “guilt” (which she blames on “society”) for having had no black characters on Friends, Kauffman has personally pledged $4 million to Brandeis to hire a black professor who’ll head a department that bears her name: The Marta Kauffman Chair in Shrill Kvetching.

    And with that, Kauffman waited for every black in America to arrive at her Hollywood mansion and carry her on their shoulders like the royalty she is.

    Instead, all she got was a black panhandler outside Bristol Farms who drunkenly shouted, “Da f*ck was Friends?”

    Poor Marta Kauffman…a queen without a maaaaaan.

    GAYS LOOK AHEAD

    Correction: That title should read, GAYS: “LOOK, A HEAD!” As in, “Hey, a public restroom; let’s have sex!”

    Big cities in the U.S. are having a dick(ens) of a time stopping the rapid spread of monkeypox among gay men, who are refusing to curb their random hookups and weekend-long orgies just because a deadly disease is circulating among them. And all the CDC can muster is to instruct gays to wrap their runny infected areas with gauze before a liaison.

    In epidemiological terminology, this is known as the “mummy method” of disease prevention.

    Thanks to the CDC, West Hollywood, Castro, Fire Island, and Greenwich can now guiltlessly host orgiastic pyramids in which pharaoh fagalas Ram-ses each other in the Tutankhanus while exclaiming Imhotepdatass as they pylon the Sphinxter, secure that nobody is spreading monkeypox because of course gauze is a foolproof shield against infection (just like cloth masks and plastic partitions).

    Monkeypox is an African-born disease, so the spread among gay Americans is yet another example of cultural appropriation. Not to worry, though—last week saw a new outbreak of Marburg, a highly infectious zoonotic hemorrhagic viral disease, in Ghana. Marburg has a 90 percent fatality rate, literally liquefying its victims like a Nazi looking into the Ark.

    That said, watching someone die of Marburg is still not as disturbing as watching a Sam Brinton dog video.

    According to Western public health officials (and the man-sized anthropomorphic mud-caked bundle of twigs and dung that serves as Ghana’s minister of health), it’s unlikely that the Marburg outbreak will spread beyond Africa, as the disease can only be contracted via close contact with bodily fluids.

    Upon hearing that, every gay man in America exclaimed, “Sounds like a dare!”

    AOC OMG WTF?

    It was the worst week ever for unwise Latina Googly Gomez (better known as Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez). First, AOC was brutally assaulted on the Capitol steps. Then she was rendered penniless by racist sexist congressional pay rules. And finally she was hauled off in handcuffs by brutish cops.

    In AOC’s mind, all of that happened.

    In reality, not so much.

    First, “Eyeballs O’Shaughnessy” was heckled outside the Capitol by an internet troll who complimented her “booty.” And although AOC laughed it off (the heckling, not her booty) at the time, she later decided she’d been literally murdered by the rude constituent’s comments.

    But as she started to plan her funeral (recyclable fair-trade coffin, designer dress made of aborted fetal tissue, and Alicia Keys on a solar-powered organ playing “Candle in the Wind”), she realized she was unable to afford such a lavish affair on a congresswoman’s salary (plus, the rights to “Candle in the Wind” are owned by the cowfart lobby, and they wouldn’t allow her the use). Brownie Bulger immediately took to Instagram to complain that she’s unable to live on a mere $174,000 a year, receiving many sympathetic replies from her mindless minimum-wage fantards.

    And as if all that wasn’t enough, AOC and her fearleading “squad” decided to provoke arrest by blocking the entrance to the Supreme Court. But when the cops hauled off the hindering harpies, AOC, a practiced expert in the art of agitproptosis, pretended to be handcuffed, only briefly dropping the charade to wave at onlookers in a tribute to Uruguayan magician Daniel K.

    Once at the bottom of the steps, AOC then pretended to get beaten Rodney King-style (and to be fair, she was more convincing than the guy who played Carlo in The Godfather).

    A taxing week for a taxing Democrat. To soothe AOC’s imaginary wounds, Nancy Pelosi sent a car to scoop her up and bring her over for a girls’ night of ice cream and wine.

    That’s the good news.

    The bad news: The driver was Pelosi’s husband.
    "Truly, whoever can make you believe absurdities can make you commit atrocities." - Voltaire

  11. #219
    Watched the AOC Theater Live. a couple 1776 RM Streamers were there.

    Interesting differences in arrests between that show,,and arresting the Leadership of the Movement.
    Liberty is lost through complacency and a subservient mindset. When we accept or even welcome automobile checkpoints, random searches, mandatory identification cards, and paramilitary police in our streets, we have lost a vital part of our American heritage. America was born of protest, revolution, and mistrust of government. Subservient societies neither maintain nor deserve freedom for long.
    Ron Paul 2004

    Registered Ron Paul supporter # 2202
    It's all about Freedom

  12. #220
    The Week That Perished

    https://www.takimag.com/article/the-...-perished-201/

    Takimag

    July 31, 2022

    The Week’s Most Spanking, Banking, and Pranking Headlines

    CHINAMAN WOKS THE PRANK

    Me Chinese,
    Me make joke,
    Me make fools of African folk.


    As China ruthlessly colonizes Africa, usurping and exploiting the Dark Continent’s resources for the benefit of the yellow nation, Chinese pranksters are doing their part. After all, what’s colonization without humiliation?

    Of course, in sub-Saharan Africa, putting pee-pee in somebody’s Coke would actually be a step up from their usual drinking fare (“Welcome to Mbongo’s Café. May I start you off with a glass of raw sewage?”). So ching-chong chucklemen are having to think outside the takeout box to put one over on the locals. Lu Ke is a Chinese citizen living in Malawi. And he’s become China’s favorite online jokester, a regular Deng Xiaozing, by making videos of African children humiliating themselves by speaking phonetic Chinese. Wildly popular on Chinese social media, Ke’s content consists of African kids unknowingly saying things like “I’m a black monster” and “My IQ is low.”

    Lu Ke uploads under an assumed name (sadly, not Sky Walker), in order to avoid repercussions from Malawian officials. But last week the BBC concluded a lengthy in-depth investigation into the identity of the Phantom Yuenace, and Ke’s name was revealed (it’s nice to know that even though the BBC refuses to investigate Asian rape gangs in London, they’ll spare no expense going after Asian cutups in Africa).

    Ke fled Malawi ahead of an arrest warrant, but he was caught in Zambia, where officials reported that he was absolutely delicious with a side of sweet-and-sour rice.

    Let this be a lesson to other Guangdong gagsters: Stick to prank calling your local bar.

    “Mao’s Tavern.”

    “Yeah, hi. I’m looking for Hu Flung Pu.”

    “Hold on.” [Calls out to bar] “Hu Flung Pu? I’m trying to find Hu Flung Pu. C’mon, somebody’s gotta know Hu Flung Pu?”

    BUBOES BY ANY OTHER NAME

    Ashwin Vasan is New York City’s Health Commissioner. The Indian-American physician is also a professor at Columbia’s Mailman School of Public Health, where his lectures consist of, “Today we’re going to examine whether you should eat the mail. No, you should not. Even if you’re very, very hungry. Eating paper is not good for you. Class dismissed.”

    This light workload allows Vasan to concentrate on his city’s gravest health concerns.

    Like monkeypox.

    Well, not monkeypox per se. More like the racism caused by the name monkeypox.

    JaMarcus: “Man, I think I gots monkeypox.”

    Ashwin: “Please, don’t call it that! That word is racist!”

    JaMarcus: “What? How?”

    Ashwin: “Because blacks are often thought of as monkeys. Apes. Dirty, filthy, banana-eating apes. Poo-flinging stinking violent stupid…”

    JaMarcus: “Actually, you’re the only one I’ve ever heard makin’ that…”

    Ashwin: “…subhuman animalistic bestial monstrous feral brutish…”

    JaMarcus: “Look, will you just help me with my…”

    Ashwin: “…depraved repulsive grotesque barbarous vile swinish fetid…”

    JaMarcus: “Dude, you ain’t right in the head.”

    In response to racism that exists only in his twisted Punjabi mind, Ashwin is lobbying the WHO to change the name of monkeypox because of the “painful and racist history within which terminology like monkeypox is rooted for communities of color. Continuing to use the term monkeypox may reignite these traumatic feelings of racism and stigma for Black people.”

    A great epidemiological strategy: fight an epidemic by telling blacks that the word “monkey” refers to them.

    Regarding Vasan’s suggestion for a replacement term, “Carbuncle Tom” actually seems kinda worse.

    OXY CANADA

    It’s easy to laugh at Canada, a nation with boundless resources but zero international import and influence and even less respect. A nation ruled by a semi-retarded child with a Moe haircut. A nation whose greatest folk singer had to make his bones singing about an American shipwreck, because Canada can’t even produce decent disasters.

    The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down,
    Of the roller coaster in West Edmonton Mall.
    Mechanic Gordy McHugh, failed to tighten a screw,
    And a bunch of the riders did fall.


    “Dammit, that don’t work. Back to the bottle.”

    But in fact, if only the United States had taken Canada more seriously, many innocent Americans would still be alive today. To little fanfare, Canada has been experimenting with a program to solve the opioid epidemic by giving addicts free opioids.

    Sure, sounds horrific. Another calamitous Canadian idea, like seal hunts and censorship laws and Neil Young. But think of it this way: Is the world better off because George Floyd had to write a bad check to afford his fentanyl? A simple bus ticket to Vancouver would’ve made Floyd and everyone victimized by BLM’s 2020 summer of terror a whole lot happier.

    As reported last week in The New York Times, fentanyl dispensaries are the new big thing in British Columbia. Addicts need only walk in, and they can walk out with all the fentanyl they want, no cost (plus, a free Nanaimo bar every tenth visit).

    Dr. Christy Sutherland, the can-do Canuck who oversees the program, told the Times that “the goal is to help bring stability to their lives so that they may think about what they might want to change.”

    Hey, it’s how Coruscant dealt with death sticks.

    The fact that China owns over one-third of Vancouver real estate and is looking to buy up the rest has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that the city is killing off locals with free fentanyl.

    Woe, Canada.

    BLACK WRECKSELLENCE

    In American fiction, every small town has one troublesome resident. Mayberry has Otis the drunk, Hill Valley has Biff, Cabot Cove has a murderer a week, and Smallville has Bryan Singer hanging around asking teen boys if they’d like to “screen test” for Superman.

    Kenly, North Carolina—population 2,385 and windowsills wide enough to accommodate cooling blueberry pies—has its local ne’er-do-well: Ass-Grabbin’ Andre. Michael Andre Douglas enjoys walking into the homes of female residents and grabbing their privates.

    For years he got away with it because he was Kenly’s town manager. Unfortunately for Garrison Feel-’er, one local lady finally had enough and went to the cops after Douglas entered her home, squeezed her breast in front of her sister, and asked, “Why won’t your sister let me hit it?”

    Douglas was charged with sexual battery, and Kenly needed to find a new town manager.

    Kenly is 36 percent black (hence the high theft rate of cooling blueberry pies). Michael Andre Douglas is also black. The town council decided that, having fired a black town manager, they’d need to hire another one to avoid accusations of racism.

    So they hired a woman who’s made an entire career of accusing people of racism.

    Sometimes a town is “one stoplight” because nobody’s smart enough to build a second one.

    Justine Jones from Virginia is a certified “National Urban Fellow,” a credential that screams “hire me because I’m black cuz I got nothin’ else” (at least with a National Keith Urban Fellow you get cocaine). She’s worked for various towns all over the South, and she’s sued ’em all for racial and gender discrimination.

    So of course Kenly hired her. And within a month, every single cop and clerk quit over the “toxic and hostile work environment” she’d created. And now the council is afraid to fire her, because, well, you guessed it.

    Yahoo News “race and justice” reporter Marquise Francis claimed last week that racist Kenly rejected Jones because she’s black. When asked why, if that’s the case, the town tolerated Ass-Grabbin’ Andre for so long, Marquise didn’t reply, as he was running off with a blueberry pie.

    GUILE E. COYOTE

    Fifty-three Mexican migrants died last month in a horrific scene of carnage, perishing in stifling, unbearable heat—temperatures better suited to hell than earth—the life slowly sapped from them as they expired amid a sea of dehydrated, desiccated corpses, the stench of urine, strong though it was, overtaken by the mephitis of noxious gases seeping unchecked from the bodies of the screeching, incoherent doomed.

    No, these migrants weren’t in Lake Havasu. They expired in an abandoned tractor-trailer, left by human smugglers to die under the merciless San Antonio sun.

    Though the story made headlines worldwide, an investigative piece in last week’s New York Times uncovered a curious detail about the victims: Several of them had paid the coyotes $10,000 for the trip. And while paying that much money for a journey that ends with being baked alive in a feces-filled trailer still beats flying Delta, many Americans were puzzled by the fact that these impoverished migrants not only had $10,000 to spare, but that they couldn’t think of a better way to spend it.

    Just go to Houston. Any number of local crackheads will marry you for half that amount.

    “I now pronounce you Santiago and LaQueenzetta Hernandez. You may kiss the stankwhore.”

    Green card stapled!

    Turns out the mind of Mike Lindell isn’t the only place where Trump is still president. Coyotes have been hesitant to tell the impoverished flotsam of Latin America that Biden’s made it possible to waltz across the border for free. Fees for smuggling increased to such an extent during the Trump years, when ICE was actually allowed to do its job (imaginary whips and all), the coyotes didn’t want the gravy train to end. So smugglers are acting like your office’s IT guy and pretending the task’s a lot harder than it is.

    Gullible migrants are selling family property and taking out massive loans (from the smugglers!) to pay for the trip.

    When thanks to Biden, all they really need is a good pair of shoes.

    Not sending their best, indeed.
    "Truly, whoever can make you believe absurdities can make you commit atrocities." - Voltaire

  13. #221
    The Week That Perished

    https://www.takimag.com/article/the-...-perished-202/

    Takimag

    August 06, 2022

    The Week’s Most Blighted, Delighted, and United Headlines

    “NOW I AM BECOME METH”

    It’s easy to laugh at vapid Hollywood celebrities. Sometimes we laugh so hard we forget the many amazing scientific advancements gifted to the world by Tinseltown’s finest.

    John Landis proved that when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object, the former prevails as long as the latter is a has-been actor carrying two Vietnamese kids. By opening a Beverly Hills bathroom stall, George Michael solved the riddle of Blowdinger’s Cat. And science now knows that two vehicles traveling toward each other at the same velocity will never pass as long as one of the drivers is Matthew Broderick.

    We can now add to that esteemed list of Weinstein’s Einsteins the name Terrence Howard.

    Howard is best known for roles in films like Crash, Mr. Holland’s Opus, and Red Tails (he has a “pretentious and overrated” clause in his contract), as well as Big Momma’s House and Glitter (the clause also says “crappy”). A convicted spousal abuser and admitted hardcore druggie, Howard most recently starred on the TV show Empire alongside Jussie Smollett.

    And when Smollett invented weatherproof invisible MAGAs, Howard, who claims to hold a PhD in chemical engineering from South Carolina State (even though he never attended the school, which offers no such degree) and who runs a website dedicated to proving 1×1=2, had to step up his game.

    Last week Howard gave a lecture in Uganda at the invitation of the nation’s Minister of Agriculture (a corn husk with googly eyes). Addressing a crowd of Ebola-scarred witch doctors, Howard declared that he’d “identified the grand unified field equation, and put it into geometry” in order to “develop a new hydrogen technology” to “defend the sovereignty of Uganda” because “one times one equals two.”

    He was immediately made Uganda’s Minister of Self-Esteem.

    “Look, there aren’t a lot of people in the world who make us feel smart by comparison,” a Ugandan observer remarked. “Now that we’ve found one, no way we’re letting him go.”

    POO-NITED NATIONS

    The United Nations can do things only one way: wrong. The worst human rights offenders are put in charge of the human rights council. Nations where women can’t leave home without an escort lead “gender equality” commissions.

    Following complaints of child rape networks in Cambodia, Mozambique, Bosnia, Benin, Congo, Cambodia, Haiti, and Côte d’Ivoire, U.N. peacekeepers promised to identify the culprits.

    They did; it was them.

    And now, U.N. leaders have revealed themselves as fecal fetishists.

    Yes, the U.N. is obsessed with your poop.

    Catarina de Albuquerque sounds like a New Mexico drag queen. But in fact she’s the U.N.’s “sanitation czarina.” And last week she penned an op-ed for the L.A. Times in which she castigated Americans for not allowing the homeless to defecate wherever they please.

    According to Scatarina, “penalties for public urination and defecation” are “Jim Crow” for the homeless. Public pooing is the civil rights movement of the age, except this time Rosa Parks doesn’t sit; she squats.

    Excrete-ary General Albuquerque states that without being able to dump on sidewalks, “the homeless are blocked from full participation in public life” (to be fair, the Declaration of Independence did originally read “life, liberty, and the pursuit of crappiness”).

    Penalties for public pooing “promote marginalization”; Albuquerque claims that the U.S. should be more like Mumbai regarding public defecation.

    She’s obviously never seen San Francisco.

    If American cities don’t start easing up on street-soilers, Albuquerque warns, the U.N. might have to take action: Garrisons of fece-keepers are lining up to deploy for World War Number 2.

    U.N.WELCOME GUESTS

    If the U.N. seems preoccupied with the bathroom habits of Americans, it’s likely because fighting for the right of America’s Emmett Kellys to emit smellies is an easy task compared with the battles the U.N. is facing in less civilized environs.

    Fifteen people, including three U.N. workers, were murdered last week in eastern Congo after what the AP described as a “social media-fueled protest” over U.N. tweets (the U.N. was warned not to post that “Virgin Bantu vs. Chad Babinga” meme). The day after the multiple-fatality protest, a new protest was launched to protest the deaths from the previous one.

    During this protest, a gang of trigger-happy Tekes fired their rifles in the air to frighten U.N. workers holed up in their HQ. The bullets brought down a power line, setting four of the Yosemite Savages on fire.

    The bad news? They burned to death. The good news? A four-way tie in the annual Congolese Richard Pryor impression contest.

    Also last week, in Mali, where 275 U.N. peacekeepers have been slaughtered by warlords, government officials expelled the entire U.N. mission over “tendentious and unacceptable” Twitter posts.

    “I warned them,” Mali prime minister Iseeya Boubi told the AP, “one more Roll Safe meme and they’re outta here.”

    A day later, U.N. Secretary-General Antonio Guterres chaired a conference aimed at reducing the world’s nuclear stockpiles.

    As the meeting convened, Guterres told the attendees, “Please tell me no one here has any problem with our tweets.”

    To which the Peruvian delegate replied, “For Christ’s sake, you’re still posting the Jackie Chan WTF meme? I mean, it’s so played.”

    “Anyone else?” asked Guterres.

    Every delegate raised their hand.

    “Maybe we oughta switch to Instagram,” Guterres thought to himself as he sank back in his seat.

    GETTING SOME FRESH AIR (STRIKE)

    When there’s a target on your head, it’s best to be unpredictable. Yasser Arafat, for example, never slept in the same bed twice. He said it was to throw off assassins, but those who washed his sheets claimed it was for a more embarrassing reason (let’s just say the dude could “Amber Heard” a bed like a sonofabitch).

    Last week, U.S. forces assassinated al-Qaeda leader Al-Zawahiri. President Biden had actually put the hit on Al Zweibel for writing the 1994 Rob Reiner flop North, but Ron Klain realized it would be better PR for the administration to kill Al-Zawahiri instead.

    With the U.S. out of Afghanistan, how do you locate a cagey kafir in a nation of 40 million Muslims? A real Nidal in a haj-stack situation.

    Except Al-Zawahiri had a fatal flaw, an Achilles hilāl.

    He loved balconies.

    No joke; according to Politico, “The terrorist leader’s habit of standing on his balcony allowed the U.S. to observe him and confirm his identity.”

    Every morning, like clockwork, Al-Zawahiri would emerge from his bedroom onto his balcony and take in the sights and sounds of another fine day in Kabul, the sun rising over the majestic mountains as the local gentry sodomize their beasts of burden before morning tea.

    “I love the smell of neigh-pum in the morning,” Al-Zawahri would remark to his significant other (a goat named Habibi).

    Last week, however, Al-Zawahiri had a balcony experience so violent even James Earl Ray would’ve gone “damn.” As he stepped outside for some fresh air, two drone-fired Hellfire missiles made his fatwa go splatwa.

    Ramadan? More like kablamadan.

    Following the operation, the White House tried to do a victory lap. Unfortunately, President Biden, battling his tenth relapse of Covid and goofy on boosters, had come to believe he’d taken out Al Zamora, the popular tejano musician.

    “We can’t let word of this get out,” he told his aides. “I’m losing Hispanic support as it is.”

    FAPPUCCINO (WITH CREAM)

    Oh, that Soros! The Hungarian billionaire and James Bond villain is so dedicated to his vision of genocide-by-criminal that he’s lost sight of the true victims of his crime-spree-by-proxy.

    No, not murder, mugging, or rape victims. Not the kids shot by unprosecuted gangbangers or the merchants beaten by decarcerated thieves.

    The real victims of Soros’ “progressive prosecution” are coffee-loving gays.

    Last week the megalomaniacal Magyar penned an op-ed in The Wall Street Journal in which he defiantly declared that even after several recent setbacks (the successful recall of San Francisco’s Chesa Boudin and the upcoming recall of L.A.’s George Gascon), nothing would stop his crusade to install bought-and-paid-for soft-on-crime district attorneys in every city in America.

    Nothing? Not even the agonized cries of a city of sissies deprived of their beefcake baristas?

    The same day Soros’ op-ed appeared in the WSJ, over in West Hollywood, the city’s legendary “Big Gay Starbucks” closed for good, driven out of business by robberies, vandalism, and in-store disruptions by the homeless and mentally ill.

    In other words, driven out of business by the Soros crime wave.

    The Los Angeles Blade, L.A.’s gay newspaper of record (“All the nudes that fists imprint”), ran an emotional farewell to the BGS, reporter Paulo Murillo reminiscing wistfully of how he would “gawk at the men passing by in spandex short shorts and spaghetti tank tops on their way to the gym” as he sipped his latte. “It was a place for cruising before hookup apps like SCRUFF and Grindr. Guys would do their seductive dances while nursing a cup of joe. Then one guy would get up and the other guy would follow him to the restroom by the pool area of the Ramada Inn a few doors down.”

    Look what Soros has taken from you.

    ABC News interviewed a forlorn former customer who suggested a way the store could’ve remained open while keeping employees safe from crime: “During the pandemic, they had service through the door—you just come and pick your stuff up, so they could’ve easily done that. I don’t see why they needed to shut it down.”

    “Through the door”? In other words, turn the coffee shop into a glory hole.

    Isn’t that the gay solution to everything?
    "Truly, whoever can make you believe absurdities can make you commit atrocities." - Voltaire

  14. #222
    https://www.takimag.com/article/the-...-perished-203/

    The Week’s Most Guessing, Confessing, and Stop-the-Pressing Headlines
    THE CHUNG POISONER’S HANDBOOK
    Say Yu, say me
    Say it for always
    That bitch poisoned my tea!

    Tiger mom, meet lye-ger wife. She’s a whiz with caustic chemicals in the kitchen, but she doesn’t use ’em for cleaning.
    Poor Dr. Jack Chen. The Irvine, Calif., radiologist had not been feeling well for several weeks. Nausea, stomach cramps, esophageal swelling, loss of appetite. And it didn’t help that he was spending thousands of dollars on plumbers because his urine was burning through the toilet bowls.
    He also had a strong chemical taste in his mouth that always seemed to show up right after he drank something at home. Hot tea, iced tea, milk, lemonade—didn’t matter what he made, he’d feel ill after every sip.

    A friend suggested he watch The Sixth Sense, to which Chen replied, “Oh c’mon, that’s the stupidest idea I’ve ever…” and then about halfway through the film he was like, “Ohhhhhh, now I get it!”
    Chen set up a nanny-cam in his kitchen and caught his wife, a dermatologist named Yue Yu, yellow-handed: She’d been putting Drano in his drinks.
    As if the poor bastard didn’t have enough problems, when Chen tried to report the crime, it took a few minutes for the cops to get it straight.
    Detective: “Okay, you say someone poisoned you. Who did it?”
    Chen: “Hu didn’t do it. Yu did it.”
    Detective: “That ain’t true, buster. I don’t even know you.”

    Chen: “Then why claim Yu didn’t do it?”
    Detective: “Because I’ve never seen you before!”
    Chen: “If you knew Yu, you’d know Yu did it.”
    Detective: “I do know me. And it wasn’t me.”
    Chen: “I know it wasn’t Mi. Mi’s in Beijing. It was Yu.”

    Detective: “I’m gonna run yer ass in, buddy!”
    Yue Yu was booked on one count of attempted murder and another of practicing plumbing without a license. And Dr. Chen was booked for one week at The Improv.
    HOLOCAUSTUME
    It’s a world of laughter, a world of tears. It’s a world of hope, and a world of fears.
    Actually, just fears. Costumed theme-park characters find themselves at the center of America’s racial dreckoning, after two videos went viral of racist galoots in fluffy suits ignoring magical black girls. First there was the Great Muppet Massacre, when Sesame Street became Oppressame Street for a little black girl who didn’t get a hug by a passing kkkostumed character.
    And now, a Rhodesian rodent has enforced his own policy of “separate but squeakqual” at a Philadelphia Chuck E. Cheese, as a performer in a mouse costume passed up the chance to hug a bouncing young Brie-onna Taylor, much to the chagrin of her family, who regretted not visiting Chuck E. Government Cheese instead, where the food is free, the arcade games always pay out, and the children are entertained by characters in costumes of Randy, Marlon, and Tito Jackson (inside the costumes are the actual Randy, Marlon, and Tito Jackson).
    With this ebony-excluding plague, this Mascot of the Red Death, felling black children by the score (if by “score” one means rarely), one enterprising lawyer has launched a class-action suit against America’s theme parks and low-rent bargain-basement “you havin’ your birthday here and if you don’t like it you’ll get the strap” pizza parlors. Attorney Malcolm Ruff, sadly not a dog in a human costume because that would’ve been funny, is gathering blacks across America whose children have been jilted by minimum-wage earners in foul-smelling outfits. Although he’s yet to bark his demands at the theme parks, one suspects those demands will have something to do with mandating what was captured on video last week, when Woody from Toy Story damn near stopped an entire Disney parade after another character failed to notice a black girl.
    Expect costumed characters at future Disney parades to have “equity chaperones” who guide them toward black children.
    “Hiya, kids! I’m Goofy! And this is my bestest, bestest buddy Myron Lipschitz of Lipschitz, Cohen, Schmuelstein, and Levinovitch. He’s the wackiest character of all; he serves injunctions!”
    Kids: “Boo, he looks like Jafar!”
    Myron: “I’ll sue you for that!”
    CEO STRUGGLES IN QUICKSANDINISTA
    MAGA alert! The FTC has heavily fined ($211,000!) a self-described “gun-totin’ free-patriot” apparel company for falsely passing off MAGA-wear as “made in America” when in fact the garments came from abroad.


    Last week, Sean Whalen, CEO of Utah-based Lions Not Sheep—seller of fine pro-Trump and anti-Biden tees, caps, and sweats—took to his company’s website to dispel the FTC’s “misinformation.”
    Get ready for some truth!
    Whalen began the video by explaining that the FTC lied about the “made in USA” shirts coming from China. No, he says, they actually came from Nicaragua, a different Marxist dictatorship, this one in America’s backyard, where it’s flooded the U.S. with over 111,000 illegal aliens—many of them hardcore criminals and narco-gangsters—in 2022 alone. The Marxist dictatorship whose presidente for life fought a literal proxy war with the U.S. in the 1980s.
    Take that, FTC! It was Nicaragua, not China!
    The first rule of surviving in quicksand is to stop struggling. Whalen is apparently unfamiliar with this rule, because he added that his company operated in full compliance with “made in America” regulations under the Trump administration, but in August 2021 the FTC, under Biden, changed the rules, making it harder for foreign goods to be falsely passed off as American.
    Dude, seriously, stop struggling! “Trump made it easier to pass off foreign goods from Marxist foes as American-made, until Biden tightened the rules” is not a good look for a company that sells “Trump: America First” and “$#@! Joe Biden” shirts.
    Lions Not Sheep provides customers with a free copy of the U.S. Constitution with every order. Whalen should reread the Fifth Amendment.
    The Founders knew that sometimes it’s best to keep your mouth shut.
    EDWARD R. DUH-ROW
    One reason to not import goods from tin-pot Third World hellholes is that they’re often of inferior quality.
    What goes for garments goes for journalists.
    Pocharapon Neammanee is not a sedentary bottom-dwelling marine anthozoan with stinging tentacles. It’s a guy. Well, it’s a reporter, sort of. He’s the “journalist” who was assigned to the Lions Not Sheep story by Insider. The “scare quotes” come from the fact that this college student is social media and communications intern at New Jersey Progressive Democrats (he’s also an apparently undocumented “dreamer”).

    Just the guy to do a fair report on a MAGA org!
    Frankly, if Sean Whalen had just pointed this out instead of digging a hole to Nicaragua, he’d have emerged far less scathed.
    To say that Pokémon Anemone is a biased reporter sells the man short; he’s also illiterate. He doesn’t capitalize proper names (well, he capitalizes Biden but refuses to do so with Trump), he can’t differentiate “was” from “were,” and on his keyboard the period is another comma. He wrote that the FTC fined Lions Not Sheep $20,000 (it was $200,000), and he described the company’s shirts as saying “Go Brandon” and “#FBJ” (“$#@! Billy Joel”? Isn’t that a little harsh?).
    Last week NPR ran a piece lamenting how GOPs (including party A-listers like Ron DeSantis) are refusing to speak to the “mainstream” press or allow reporters from nonconservative organs into their events.
    Soaked in faux sincerity, NPR reporter Danielle Kurtzleben (“Kurtzleben” is German for “Madison Cawthorn’s political career”) wonders why, oh why, so many Republicans won’t talk to the “progressive” press.

    Hmm…maybe it has something to do with the fact that a major news organization like Insider would assign a progressive collegiate Democrat party operative who can’t write English to cover a story about the FTC vs. Trumpworld.
    Nah, that couldn’t be it. It’s probably just part of the right’s war on democracy!
    YOUR PANCAKES HAVE DOOMED US ALL
    So, what’cha have for breakfast this morning?
    Scrambled eggs, you say? Mmm-mmm, who doesn’t like scrambled eggs? Did you enjoy ’em? You did? Wonderful. Very good.
    Because your eggs just murdered the world.
    Nice going, jerkwad.
    According to a Swedish study published in Environmental Science & Technology, the earth’s rainwater is now permanently undrinkable—everywhere, even Antarctica—because of PFAS (per- and polyfluoroalkyl substances), which are used to create nonstick cookware. Because you bastards want your stupid eggs and pancakes to glide smoothly off your stupid skillets, PFAS residue has risen up and saturated the clouds and now water from above is more toxic than water from a Tijuana tap.
    Worse still, the study describes PFAS as a “forever chemical,” meaning that once it’s in the environment, it never leaves.
    All because you spoiled, selfish monsters don’t want to lick your breakfast off a solar-heated stone.
    Oddly, though, if you read the Swedish study all the way to the end, you find that far from being “forever,” “PFAS levels in people have actually dropped quite significantly in the last 20 years” and “ambient levels (in the environment) have been the same for the past 20 years.”
    What gives?
    Well, as the study’s corresponding author Ian Cousins admits, “What’s changed is the guidelines.” PFAS isn’t more prevalent; governments have simply decreed it more dangerous.
    But why now? The EPA recently changed its PFAS guidelines significantly “after discovering that the chemicals may affect the immune response in children to vaccines.”
    So when kids become ill or die after being pumped full of Covid vaxxes and boosters, it ain’t the vaxxes and boosters. It’s your damn greasy-ass hash browns, which all of a sudden kill kids who’ve totally coincidentally just been super-vaxxed.

    Science starches on.
    Never attempt to teach a pig to sing; it wastes your time and annoys the pig.

    Robert Heinlein

    Give a man an inch and right away he thinks he's a ruler

    Groucho Marx

    I love mankind…it’s people I can’t stand.

    Linus, from the Peanuts comic

    You cannot have liberty without morality and morality without faith

    Alexis de Torqueville

    Those who fail to learn from the past are condemned to repeat it.
    Those who learn from the past are condemned to watch everybody else repeat it

    A Zero Hedge comment

  15. #223
    @Swordsmyth

    As if the poor bastard didn’t have enough problems, when Chen tried to report the crime, it took a few minutes for the cops to get it straight.

    Detective: “Okay, you say someone poisoned you. Who did it?”
    Chen: “Hu didn’t do it. Yu did it.”
    Detective: “That ain’t true, buster. I don’t even know you.”

    Chen: “Then why claim Yu didn’t do it?”
    Detective: “Because I’ve never seen you before!”
    Chen: “If you knew Yu, you’d know Yu did it.”
    Detective: “I do know me. And it wasn’t me.”
    Chen: “I know it wasn’t Mi. Mi’s in Beijing. It was Yu.”

    Detective: “I’m gonna run yer ass in, buddy!”


    For you youngsters, once again, who have no farkin clue of what this is all about...

    "Truly, whoever can make you believe absurdities can make you commit atrocities." - Voltaire

  16. #224
    "Pity we didn't nominate Rand Paul--a man who actually has the Alpha Cojones to put his life on the line, but unfortunately lacks the bad taste necessary to brag about them."-- acptulsa



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  18. #225
    https://www.takimag.com/article/the-...-perished-204/

    The Week’s Most Slicken, Wiccan, and Drought-Stricken Headlines
    SALMAN FILLET
    Ayatollah Khomeini wore many turbans. Brutal dictator and architect of Iran’s Islamic revolution, merciless hard-line religious cleric, and six-time Southwestern Asia chili cook-off farting champion. But arguably his most memorable role was book critic. As founder and president of the Umrah Book Club, Khomeini loved nothing more than reviewing the world’s finest literature.
    When he enjoyed a book, like Diary of Anne Frank (he loved the happy ending), he’d award it two severed thumbs up. But when he hated a book, he’d put a death warrant—a fatwa—on the author’s head. Prominent literary recipients of fatwas include Waldo for being so maddeningly elusive, and Mumbai-born Salman Rushdie for disrespecting Islam in a book so dense and incomprehensible it proved the “reverse infinite monkeys theorem” (“one pretentious Cambridge-educated Kashmiri striking keys on a typewriter will eventually produce the work of a million monkeys”).
    Khomeini slapped Salman with the fatwa back in February 1989, just four months before fate delivered some tit-for-tatwa and knocked Khomeini flatwa with a heart attack that made his arteries go splatwa. Since then, carrying out the death warrant has proved a bridge too Farsi for a generation of Iranians who’ve realized that Twitter has rendered murder irrelevant; if you want to destroy an author, just label them transphobic.
    But in a testament to the power of U.S. open borders to give the children of immigrants a chance to excel beyond their ancestors, last week Hadi Matar, 24-year-old son of Lebanese huddled-massers, did what no foreign Muslim had been able to do: He stabbed the hell out of Salman Rushdie as the author was giving a talk in Chautauqua (ironically, the talk was titled “Never Let Your Guard Down”).

    Handmi Mascimitar slashed the author a dozen times before being restrained by other attendees. Thankfully, Rushdie survived. Not thankfully, trannies across the nation realized that to stay competitive they now have to step up their anti-free-speech game.
    At a press conference following the Rushdie assault, transgender spiritual leader Ayatollah Shemaili (he/shiite) placed a fatwa on the head of J.K. Rowling, before berating a misgendering reporter, “It’s Ima’am! Call me Ima’am!”
    OUT OF THEIR COTTON-PICKIN’ MINDS
    Laurel Elementary School in West Hollywood was tanking. Although the city is 78 percent non-Hispanic white, Laurel’s student body was 51 percent Hispanic. Meaning that the school had the lowest test scores in the district but the best-trimmed lawns and hedges.
    Still…those test scores, way below the state average (which is rock-bottom as it is) in math and reading. Sure, the admins at Laurel could’ve done the unthinkable and taught the Hispanic kids English, but that would’ve been racist. So instead, the Laurel brain(less) trust blamed the school’s 29 percent non-Hispanic whites; their “racism” was driving down the scores.
    It was decided that the only way for scores to improve would be if the white students were made to suffer like black slaves. Officials planted cotton in the school’s garden and forced the white kids to pick it.
    If you prayed for that last sentence to be a joke, your prayers have gone unanswered. And while the “cotton lesson” was no gag, there is an ironic punchline: One of the school’s few black students is now claiming she got PTSD from watching the white kids pick cotton. The girl’s mom, Rashunda Pitts (the daughter’s name was not released, but one hopes it’s LaBreatar), is suing the school for emotionally wrecking her child.

    Pitts is suing for $10 million and a lifetime guarantee that McDonald’s never gives her them cold fries.
    The cotton-picking exercise meant to racially sensitize whites instead has the school facing a potentially bankrupting lawsuit from a black.
    No good deed goes unpunished. Sometimes that goes for retarded deeds, too.
    Over the summer, the school district liquidated Laurel Elementary. It reopened this month as a specialty school for “cinematic arts.” Classes now include “Boy Actors for Stage and Screen” taught by Bryan Singer.
    Now there’s something that West Hollywood residents can cotton to.

    LITTLE PEOPLE, BIG NUISANCE
    A football icon pushed around by a midget.
    A midget!
    And not just any football icon, but a Texan.
    What is the world coming to?
    Last week, Dallas Cowboys owner Jerry Jones was reminiscing about his team’s scouting director Larry Lacewell when he jokingly referred to his late friend by the “m-word.”
    At least that’s how the media reported it, leaving puzzled readers to speculate about the word in question.
    Moldavian? Marsupial? Marcel Marceau?
    No…midget.


    National advocacy group Little People of America (a.k.a. NAACPeeWee, or ADLevator Shoes) issued a stern rebuke: “Any use of this disparaging slur along with suggestions or insinuations that our stature exists for amusement is deplorable and inexcusable.”
    LPA was founded in 1957 by midget actor Billy Barty, who made millions by literally using his stature for amusement. In fact, LPA was initially known as Midgets of America (no joke). If “midget” really is the equivalent of the N-word, that’s like the NAACP originally being called “National Association of Niggas.”
    Ironically, Midgets of America became LPA because the group’s dwarf majority didn’t like the midget minority getting all the glory. Fun fact: the word “midget” was popularized by P.T. Barnum to separate “attractive and proportioned” little people from big-headed stubby-legged freaks. Midgets could work the center ring, while dwarfs were relegated to the sideshows. So “midget” used to be the elite term, until those bitter envious misshapen dwarfs demanded “equity.”
    Dwarfs were engaging in a “woke war” sixty years ago! That would be a fascinating fact if anyone gave a crap about dwarfs.
    The “dwarf/midget” history is retold in this 2005 exchange between Seinfeld actor Danny Woodburn (Kramer’s dwarf buddy) and legendarily woke film critic Roger Ebert. Be prepared to laugh and cringe at how many times both men say “******” in trying to prove how enlightened they are.
    Last week Jerry Jones apologized to LPA president Mark Povinelli. Sadly, when Mr. Povinelli arrived at training camp to accept the apology, he wandered onto the field as kicker Lirim Hajrullahu was taking practice.
    The good news is, he cleared the posts, easy. The bad news? He’s yet to land.
    THE GRANDSON GRIMM
    American colleges and universities are often dismissed by conservatives as useless degree factories indoctrinating young people with pointless knowledge that won’t help them in the real world.
    Well, a recent Justice Department press release paints a different picture. Indeed, it demonstrates that even a lowly community college can equip a young person with exactly the skills they need to prosper financially.
    In 2011, 22-year-old Douglas Senerth of Windsor, Conn., took a class at Manchester Community College called “Memoir and Monologue.” The class aimed to teach young people how to incorporate “effective storytelling” into “personal monologues” so they can use “imagination and individual and collective myths” to become “authors of their future.”
    In other words, learn storytelling to better your life.
    Which Senerth did, graduating with full “personal storyteller” honors in 2013 (he was even featured on the “Manchester success stories” website).
    Using his newly learned skills, Senerth proceeded to bilk $690,000 from his grandparents by telling them wild lies about his life. The tall tales ranged from needing money to go to an Ivy League school (which he never planned to do), to needing even more money to launch a business venture with his professor (who didn’t exist).
    For almost a decade, Senerth squeezed gammy and gampa with new monologues every time he needed cash. His scam came to a halt when he spun a tale about needing $30,000 to travel to a nation called Wakanda where super-genius Africans reinvent physics.
    Even his gullible grans couldn’t buy that one.
    Senerth faced twenty years in the joint, but U.S. District Judge Robert Chatigny, an Obama appointee who once tried to free a serial child rapist-murderer because “sexual sadism” is a “mitigating disability,” gave him eighteen months. With time served, he’ll be out by Thanksgiving.
    Fortunately, Senerth won’t be another unemployed ex-con; he already has a job waiting for him as Biden’s next press secretary.
    INFIDELFLUENCERS
    Remember the good old days when social media “challenges” involved buckets of ice water? Today, TikTokers have upped the ante with the “blackout challenge” (self-inflicted oxygen deprivation), the “skull-breaker challenge” (give your friend a concussion), and the “Benadryl challenge” (“overdose for likes and shares!”).

    TikTok kills brain cells in America’s young people like a veritable Chinese “neuron bomb.”
    And the newest TikTok fad puts the others to shame: Get ready for the “get raped by savages challenge”!
    When Arabela Arpi, a 21-year-old Duke University travel blog “influencer,” read a 2021 survey in which 80 percent of Pakistanis said women aren’t safe in their country, she took it as a dare. She decided to visit the most crime-ridden, Muslim militant parts of Pakistan to see if she gets raped.
    Arpi journeyed to Pakistan’s lawless Dera Ghazi Khan (which translates to “The Rape-Me State”) to prove that a nubile young woman can visit rural Pakistan without being sexually assaulted by Islamic thugs.

    And of course she was immediately sexually assaulted by Islamic thugs.
    You can’t spell Arabela Arpi without Arab rape (yes, Pakis aren’t Arabs, but it’s still a good joke).
    Ironically, her gang-rapists recorded the assault and uploaded it to their influencer channel on QuranicTok.
    VICE called the gang rape “audacious,” a term usually reserved for more weighty matters like Netflix stand-up comedy specials. VICE complained that the rape “disrupted a narrative created by Western influencers.”
    Yes, that’s the worst thing it did. It “disrupted a narrative.”
    Looks like the people at VICE have been doing the blackout challenge a little too much.
    Never attempt to teach a pig to sing; it wastes your time and annoys the pig.

    Robert Heinlein

    Give a man an inch and right away he thinks he's a ruler

    Groucho Marx

    I love mankind…it’s people I can’t stand.

    Linus, from the Peanuts comic

    You cannot have liberty without morality and morality without faith

    Alexis de Torqueville

    Those who fail to learn from the past are condemned to repeat it.
    Those who learn from the past are condemned to watch everybody else repeat it

    A Zero Hedge comment

  19. #226
    The Week That Perished

    https://www.takimag.com/article/the-...-perished-205/

    August 28, 2022


    The Week That Perished

    The Week’s Most Nixing, Transfixing, and Netflixing Headlines


    THE CASE OF THE NAPPY NAPKIN NAPPING

    For black women in Houston who need help with unmanageable hair, Erin Mims is the go-to girl for the ghet-to gal. As owner of Alluring Locz Kingdom & Fades And Meaux Barber Studio (motto: “Our name so long you think it wearin’ a weave”), Mims is there for all your nappiest needs.

    But last week, the woman who gives fades to blacks nearly saw her life fade to black thanks to a fiendish would-be assassin with a rather unique weapon: a poisoned napkin.

    Forget the Bulgarian umbrella and Putin’s radioactive tea; behold Houston’s lethal linen!

    It was Mims’ birthday, and she and her husband were out on the town. As they returned to their car, Mims noticed a napkin scrunched into the passenger door handle. Using her Spike Lee Press-On Nails, Mims removed the towelette without touching it to her skin. But then she touched the handle…and whatever poison was on the napkin had transferred there, from which it entered Mims’ system via immediate osmosis through her fingers, causing complete organ failure, or so it felt.

    As Mims explained in a Facebook video, “I thought I’ze gon’ be dead, dawg.”

    Thankfully, the poison didn’t affect her facility with language.

    Mims’ husband drove her to the ER, where (according to her) doctors initially said she was fatally ill but then she was fine. Mims also claims the doctors told her the poison might’ve been part of a “kidnapping” attempt.

    That was just mean.

    It’s easy to (snot)rag on Mims’ story, like the Daily Mail experts who questioned whether any known poison could be soaked into a napkin, transferred onto a handle, transferred onto a finger, and absorbed into the body causing immediate near-death. But as Mims is black it’s against federal law to doubt her tale of hankie-panky.

    So yes, a napkin almost assassinated her, like JFK riding through Doily Plaza. This was Mims’ servietnam; she’s lucky she came home alive.

    Fortunately, the story has a happy ending; Netflix has optioned Mims’ ordeal for a feature film: Malcolm Kleenex.

    IT’S A BIRD! IT’S A PLANE! IT’S…A MILDLY CONCERNED BYSTANDER

    Washington, D.C., September 1939

    Henry Morgenthau: “Mr. President, that madman Hitler must be stopped at once!”

    FDR: “Worry not. I’ve dispatched Wonder Woman to Germany to pay a personal visit to that mustachioed madman, if you get my drift.”

    Two days later.

    FDR: “Welcome back, Wonder Woman. Did you deal with our little German ‘problem’?”

    Wonder Woman: “The real problem, Mr. President, is that the Danzig Corridor was and is German. It owes its cultural development exclusively to the German people. Also, your Cabinet is crawling with Jews.”

    Apparently, Wonder Woman was a fangirl at Hitler speeches. At least that’s the impression given by a series of recently leaked photos created for the 2020 flop Wonder Woman 1984. The pics depict Wonder Woman attending a Hitler speech and assisting prisoners being liberated from Auschwitz.

    So basically, Wonder Woman came face-to-face with Hitler and did nothing. And she waited until the war was over to “help” concentration-camp inmates.

    Women really are fickle.

    The photos never made it to the final cut, but the fact they were created in the first place means that either Jews are losing their grip on Hollywood, or interbreeding is making them way less intelligent.

    Evidence of the former can be found in another recent controversy. After black/Italian actor Giancarlo Esposito revealed that he might play Magneto in an upcoming X-Men reboot, “black Twitter” cheered the notion of a black gentile portraying a character whose Holocaust survivor backstory is integral to the role. When several Jews objected to the casting, they were pummeled by black “experts” who claimed that plenty of blacks died in the Holocaust.

    After all, if every black person is a magical genius, why not a Holocaust survivor as well?

    Truth is, at one point the Nazis did try to imprison a group of blacks in Auschwitz. But when they marched under the “Arbeit Macht Frei” sign, the blacks thought it was a fast-food menu, and when their “freis” didn’t arrive in a timely manner, they shot each other before the Nazis could register them in the camp.

    This, too, will soon be a Netflix movie: Triumph of the Will Smith.

    NEW YORK TAKES THE DUTCH CURE

    Next year will mark the 400th anniversary of Dutch trading colony “New Netherland” being granted provincial status. Several years later, the Dutch would purchase Manhattan from the Indians, who accepted as payment a handful of trinkets because after hearing the Dutch speak they thought they were dealing with a species of monkey (“Een boom haak in beek hoop ik”…that’s a real Dutch sentence).

    Whatever the Dutch paid, they got gypped. Once known as the “capitol of the world,” NYC is now the crapitol of the world. Violent crime’s gotten so bad, thugs have moved beyond throwing innocent bystanders onto subway tracks.

    They’re now throwing subway tracks onto innocent bystanders.

    Last week Intazar Dar, who’s either a 64-year-old Brooklyn man or an extraterrestrial here to conquer us for our resources, was taking the Q train from Lower Manhattan when a shirtless wild-eyed street brutha leaped from the platform onto the tracks, tore out a large piece of bedrock, leaped back onto the platform, and bashed Zardoz Drak in the head with it.

    You know the old saying: “If the mountain won’t come to Brohammad, then Brohammad must go to the mountain.”

    Zontar was taken to Maimonides Medical Center (which is in the process of dropping the “onides” from its name to better reflect the city’s new official pastime) with head trauma. Although his wounds are survivable, he told a local reporter that all plans for Earth colonization are off.

    “You humans are irredeemable; you’re either savages or enablers of savages. No resources are worth this.”

    He then radioed his mothership in his alien tongue: “Abandon the invasion! Gleep gloot moop beep!”

    Four hundred years, and Manhattan comes full-circle back to the Dutch.

    KEEPING HELL HOT FOR TEACHER

    Avast, ye teachers! Right-wing Neanderthals are trying to censor learning materials! Emergency, emergency! Attend the battle of Bonners Ferry, Idaho, where ignorant Christians are trying to get sexually explicit books removed from the children’s section of the local library.

    Sure, Bonners Ferry is a town of just 2,500 people. But there’s no fight as important as the fight against the ideologically driven censorship of learning materials.

    The Bonners Ferry controversy made national news last week, with NBC News running a 2,000-word piece championing the heroic librarian who’s standing up to the rednecks who don’t want books detailing gay sex and gender-*****ness in the kiddy section. Librarian Kimber Glidden boldly told NBC that keeping kids from seeing oral sex manuals would be a violation of her sacred oath.

    “I’d rather be someone accused of having naughty books than be in violation of the Constitution.”

    Can’t you just hear the patriotic music?

    Except…over in Salt Lake City, also last week, a fourth-grade teacher at William Penn Elementary uploaded a video in which she bragged about removing all classroom materials that feature white people. “There’s, like, no white kids represented in the materials I have,” she boasted. “Not a single white face there.” In the video she goes into great detail about how she bans classroom materials that feature whites.

    An Idaho town of 2,500 where some parents are trying to limit the access of minors to sexually explicit materials?

    Stop censorship! Protect the Constitution!

    A Utah metropolitan area of 1.2 million where a teacher is removing all classroom materials featuring whites?

    Censorship is good! Ban whiteness!

    Argument #12,000,000 for homeschooling.

    HUFFERS ARE BUFFERS

    Of course, just as teachers should be a little more discerning when they declare a war on censorship, certain rightists should be a bit more discerning when they scream “ANTIFA RIOT!”

    Berkeley’s People’s Park was founded in 1969 by student radicals who envisioned the park as a haven for community togetherness. And like everything hippies ever did, it quickly turned to crap. By the 1990s the park had become a foreboding den of homeless schizos, paint huffers, and assorted feces-caked flotsam.

    At the same time, UC Berkeley, always in need of more student housing for the next generation of Soros paralegals, diversity managers, and social workers who recommend mastectomies for toddlers, had long eyed the park as a potential site for new off-campus dorms.

    After many false starts, last month the university finally moved to bulldoze the park and begin construction of a massive 16-story housing complex. But the tweakers and huffers, bolstered by locals who prefer to have Berkeley’s slimiest corralled in one area, surrounded the park and chased off the construction crews.

    Andy Ngo covered the event as if it were an apocalyptic riot. But in fact, when faced with an army of grotesqueries who smell like poop, the university usurpers gave up with no struggle.

    Was this really a bad thing? Last week, white people were banned from entering a five-story, 30-room UC Berkeley off-campus housing complex. And conservatives are upset that Berkeley’s not able to build more apartheid structures?

    That plot of land is way better off as a zoo for human animals who seek only to kill their own brains with drugs, as opposed to a housing facility for zealots who seek to kill your kids with progressive prosecution and tranny surgery.

    In fact, a few days ago, a tranny tried to set up a tent in People’s Park.

    The huffers set fire to it.
    Last edited by Anti Federalist; 08-29-2022 at 06:24 AM.
    "Truly, whoever can make you believe absurdities can make you commit atrocities." - Voltaire

  20. #227
    The Week That Perished
    Takimag

    September 04, 2022


    The Week’s Most Staid, Unmade, and Labor Day’d Headlines

    ECCE HOMA
    You let one black cannibal killer go free, and folks never let you live it down.

    In 2021, Oklahoma governor Kevin Stitt commuted the sentence of cannibal-murderer Lawrence Anderson (a.k.a. Panhandibal Lecter), who repaid the favor by killing and eating a whole bunch of folks. Thanks to Lawrence’s all-you-can-eat Golden OK Corral, Stitt was pummeled during this year’s Republican primary for turning the Grand Old Party into the Grand Old Donner Party.

    Trying to shed his soft-on-cannibals image, Stitt’s pledged to fry one death row inmate per month. He was going to call it his “cook of the month club,” until aides reminded him that Oklahoma uses lethal injection, not the electric chair.

    Needless to say, leftists are incensed that murderers will be sent to a place from which even George Soros can’t free them. Andrea Miller of the Oklahoma Innocence Project told Yahoo News that murderers are merely children who made an oopsie: “We in this country talk so much about trying to protect children while they’re children, but we’re more than willing to throw them away on the back end when they make a mistake.”

    Miller might not be the dumbest human alive (not while Joy Reid draws breath), but she’s close. “Trying to protect children while they’re children.” Yes, because children are only children while they’re children.

    As for those “mistakes,” among the condemned are Scott Eizember, who murdered an elderly couple so he could use their house to spy on his girlfriend across the street (d’oh!); John Hanson, who carjacked a 77-year-old woman, murdered her, then murdered a witness (whoopsie-doodles!); and Benjamin Cole, who killed a baby because its crying interrupted his videogame (uh-oh spaghetti-o!).

    Such wacky “mistakes.”

    The first execution occurred last week: James Coddington, sentenced to death for killing an elderly man who wouldn’t loan him $50. As Coddington lay on the gurney, the priest asked if he had any last requests.

    “Yeah, can you spot me a fifty?” he replied.

    A good laugh was had by all. Then a pained gasp was had by one.

    PICKING THE FRUITS OF KNOWLEDGE
    In 2003, Vanity Fair was forced to apologize after in-house humorist “Dame Edna” (a relic of the days when grotesque drag queens worked the comedy circuit rather than the White House) wrote a “joking but kinda not” piece satirizing the lack of renowned Spanish-language authors:

    Forget Spanish. There’s nothing in that language worth reading except Don Quixote, and a quick listen to the CD of ‘Man of La Mancha’ will take care of that.

    Turns out the lack of classical español authors (and the total absence of them among Spanish-speakers of the Americas) is a sore spot for the Hispanic-American intelligentsia.

    And yes, there is a Hispanic-American intelligentsia. Thinkers, philosophers…gardeners who consider the lilies before pruning them.

    “Juan, you’ve tangled that garden hose again!”

    “Sorry, señor. I kink therefore I am.”

    This summer, when the California Department of Public Health declared a “Covid booster emergency” among Latinos (the least-boosted demo in the state), the question became, “Who can we invoke to motivate the willful wetbacks? With blacks, we’d use MLK or Obama. Who can we use to get the beans boosted?”

    Wrestlers, of course! The CDPH launched a billboard campaign in Mexican neighborhoods featuring images of beloved luchadore El Santo, the iconic wrestler whose Mexico City funeral in 1984 was attended by more than 10,000 people and who, over the course of his career, defeated Aztec mummies, Guanajuato mummies, unaffiliated mummies (dude hated mummies), vampiros, brujas, and even Hitler. The billboards featured a cartoon of El Santo with “booster” written across his chest battling a monster with “Covid” written across his chest (Ben Garrison did the text).

    “Some colleges have realized that it’s actually cheaper to set up a hotline for students to call when they don’t see bias. Those phones never ring.”
    Cue every conservative: “Hmmph, typical leftist condescension, treating nonwhites like children who function at a coloring-book level.”

    Except it totally worked. Last week the CDPH revealed that thanks to the campaign, Latino booster rates are now even with all other CA demographic groups.

    Some historians claim Cervantes was Jewish. While there’s no definitive way to prove it, today’s Hispanics serve as convincing anecdotal evidence that he probably was.

    ST. FRANCIS OF AH, SÍ, SÍ
    Speaking of Hispanics…

    A Mexican walks into a tavern in Laredo. As he orders a bottle of tequila, a female barfly of questionable virtue slinks next to him. Eyeing him up, she’s startled by his sizable “endowment.”

    “Hey there, amigo,” she remarks, “is that a churro in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

    “It’s an iguana,” the Mexican replies. “And if I were you, señorita, I’d keep my distance; he has not eaten today.”

    When Jose Manuel Perez tells women he has a Gila monster in his pants, he’s not being euphemistic. When he offers to show a lady his trouser snake, he ain’t joking. The crafty Mexico/America cross-border smuggler is a coyote coyote, in the literal sense. Last week Perez pleaded guilty to smuggling more than 1,700 wild animals into the U.S. over the course of six years. When he was busted in February, he had over sixty reptiles in his pants, including lizards, snakes, turtles, and baby crocodiles.

    The feds claim that “DACA Doolittle’s” exploits netted him over $739,000, a decent sum but perhaps not a big enough payday for most men to risk having snapping turtles and baby crocs next to their dingle.

    Cross-border animal smuggling is driven primarily by young Americans looking to spend big on exotic “status” pets. So the next time you come across a white hipster who brings his emotional support gecko into a coffee shop, you have yet another reason to hate him.

    Another market for Perez’s wares consists of Chinese immigrants who think that consuming exotic animals gives them magical powers (and it does; mainly, the power to kill millions of people worldwide).

    Perez is facing twenty years in prison, which is the good news. The bad news? QAnon true believers finally got convincing proof that there really are “lizard people” walking among us…unfortunately, rather than international bankers or monarchs, it’s just some beaner with skinks up his ass.

    BIAS REMORSE
    Colleges and universities are installing 24-hour “bias hotlines” that students can use to report instances of racism, genderism, cultural appropriation, microaggressions, macroaggressions, and macaroniaggressions (the angry chucking of pasta).

    Unsurprisingly, schools are finding it difficult to staff the phone banks, because operators spend all their time calling the hotline themselves to report the bias of callers calling the hotline to report bias.

    Caller: “I’m calling to report bias.”

    Operator: “Why aren’t you calling me ma’am?”

    Caller: “I can’t see you!”

    Operator: “Can’t, or won’t?”

    Caller: “Don’t de-centerize me!”

    Operator: “Don’t otherize me!”

    Some colleges have realized that it’s actually cheaper to set up a hotline for students to call when they don’t see bias. Those phones never ring.

    Plus, it’s getting harder to tell aggressor from victim in the dynamic world of bias incidents. Last week in Plano, Tex., a group of Indian women screamed bias when another woman told them to go back to India. When the Punjabis described the aggressive woman as white, she accused them of bias for not acknowledging that she’s Mexican.

    Mexicans against Indians? Like the song says, “You say tamale, I say Tamili.”

    And in Union City, Calif., Indian man Singh Tejinder was charged with a bias crime for calling Indian man Krishnan Jayaraman a “dirty Hindu.”

    Indian vs. Indian? More turban violence from people who should be bud-bud-buddies.

    Welcome to America; not so much a nation as the 24-hour bias hotline of the world.

    WE HOLD THESE TRUANTS TO BE SELF-EVIDENT…
    In theory, Covid-related school closures were just business as usual in Washington, D.C. The district’s public schools, nearly 70 percent black, boast the worst truancy rates in the entire U.S.

    According to the DCPS (and this was pre-Covid), “One in four kids in DC are chronically absent from school—which means missing 10 percent or more of the school year. At some DCPS high schools, three out of four students are chronically absent.”

    One wonders what those kids are doing with their days while not in school. In a city that’s only 4 percent Asian, are there enough old Chinawomen to punch?

    It’s against this backdrop of rampant nonattendance that D.C.’s dog of a mayor, Muriel Bowser, has decided to exclude non-vaxxed students from in-person on-campus learning.

    That’ll show ’em! Bowser literally thinks that threatening D.C. students with being officially barred from school is an effective strategy. The city would’ve been in better hands with Bowser from Sha Na Na. Hell, the city would be in better hands with an actual canine. Even a mediocre poodle has better sense than this halfwit.

    Fortunately, help is on the way from our nation’s libertarians! Reason magazine has been campaigning to get D.C. to overturn the unvaxxed ban. Reason’s Rand-y dandies have led a crusade to get the district’s kids back in class, pointing out that the majority of unvaxxed DCPS students are black, so the vax mandate translates to racist exclusion!

    And it worked. Last week, in response to Reason’s lobbying, D.C.’s Deputy Mayor for Education Paul Kihn announced that the mandate has been postponed until 2023; for now, all students, vaxxed or not, must return to class.

    And every black student in D.C. has Reason to thank for the cancellation of their permanent vacation.

    Reason staffers have been advised to stay off the streets, avoid the Metro, and generally leave town or barricade themselves in their basement. As these libertarians will soon find out, the NAP ain’t no match for the nappy.
    "Truly, whoever can make you believe absurdities can make you commit atrocities." - Voltaire

  21. #228
    https://www.takimag.com/article/the-...-perished-206/

    Quote Originally Posted by Anti Federalist View Post
    The Week That Perished
    Takimag

    September 04, 2022


    The Week’s Most Staid, Unmade, and Labor Day’d Headlines

    ECCE HOMA
    You let one black cannibal killer go free, and folks never let you live it down.

    In 2021, Oklahoma governor Kevin Stitt commuted the sentence of cannibal-murderer Lawrence Anderson (a.k.a. Panhandibal Lecter), who repaid the favor by killing and eating a whole bunch of folks. Thanks to Lawrence’s all-you-can-eat Golden OK Corral, Stitt was pummeled during this year’s Republican primary for turning the Grand Old Party into the Grand Old Donner Party.

    Trying to shed his soft-on-cannibals image, Stitt’s pledged to fry one death row inmate per month. He was going to call it his “cook of the month club,” until aides reminded him that Oklahoma uses lethal injection, not the electric chair.

    Needless to say, leftists are incensed that murderers will be sent to a place from which even George Soros can’t free them. Andrea Miller of the Oklahoma Innocence Project told Yahoo News that murderers are merely children who made an oopsie: “We in this country talk so much about trying to protect children while they’re children, but we’re more than willing to throw them away on the back end when they make a mistake.”

    Miller might not be the dumbest human alive (not while Joy Reid draws breath), but she’s close. “Trying to protect children while they’re children.” Yes, because children are only children while they’re children.

    As for those “mistakes,” among the condemned are Scott Eizember, who murdered an elderly couple so he could use their house to spy on his girlfriend across the street (d’oh!); John Hanson, who carjacked a 77-year-old woman, murdered her, then murdered a witness (whoopsie-doodles!); and Benjamin Cole, who killed a baby because its crying interrupted his videogame (uh-oh spaghetti-o!).

    Such wacky “mistakes.”

    The first execution occurred last week: James Coddington, sentenced to death for killing an elderly man who wouldn’t loan him $50. As Coddington lay on the gurney, the priest asked if he had any last requests.

    “Yeah, can you spot me a fifty?” he replied.

    A good laugh was had by all. Then a pained gasp was had by one.

    PICKING THE FRUITS OF KNOWLEDGE
    In 2003, Vanity Fair was forced to apologize after in-house humorist “Dame Edna” (a relic of the days when grotesque drag queens worked the comedy circuit rather than the White House) wrote a “joking but kinda not” piece satirizing the lack of renowned Spanish-language authors:

    Forget Spanish. There’s nothing in that language worth reading except Don Quixote, and a quick listen to the CD of ‘Man of La Mancha’ will take care of that.

    Turns out the lack of classical español authors (and the total absence of them among Spanish-speakers of the Americas) is a sore spot for the Hispanic-American intelligentsia.

    And yes, there is a Hispanic-American intelligentsia. Thinkers, philosophers…gardeners who consider the lilies before pruning them.

    “Juan, you’ve tangled that garden hose again!”

    “Sorry, señor. I kink therefore I am.”

    This summer, when the California Department of Public Health declared a “Covid booster emergency” among Latinos (the least-boosted demo in the state), the question became, “Who can we invoke to motivate the willful wetbacks? With blacks, we’d use MLK or Obama. Who can we use to get the beans boosted?”

    Wrestlers, of course! The CDPH launched a billboard campaign in Mexican neighborhoods featuring images of beloved luchadore El Santo, the iconic wrestler whose Mexico City funeral in 1984 was attended by more than 10,000 people and who, over the course of his career, defeated Aztec mummies, Guanajuato mummies, unaffiliated mummies (dude hated mummies), vampiros, brujas, and even Hitler. The billboards featured a cartoon of El Santo with “booster” written across his chest battling a monster with “Covid” written across his chest (Ben Garrison did the text).

    “Some colleges have realized that it’s actually cheaper to set up a hotline for students to call when they don’t see bias. Those phones never ring.”
    Cue every conservative: “Hmmph, typical leftist condescension, treating nonwhites like children who function at a coloring-book level.”

    Except it totally worked. Last week the CDPH revealed that thanks to the campaign, Latino booster rates are now even with all other CA demographic groups.

    Some historians claim Cervantes was Jewish. While there’s no definitive way to prove it, today’s Hispanics serve as convincing anecdotal evidence that he probably was.

    ST. FRANCIS OF AH, SÍ, SÍ
    Speaking of Hispanics…

    A Mexican walks into a tavern in Laredo. As he orders a bottle of tequila, a female barfly of questionable virtue slinks next to him. Eyeing him up, she’s startled by his sizable “endowment.”

    “Hey there, amigo,” she remarks, “is that a churro in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

    “It’s an iguana,” the Mexican replies. “And if I were you, señorita, I’d keep my distance; he has not eaten today.”

    When Jose Manuel Perez tells women he has a Gila monster in his pants, he’s not being euphemistic. When he offers to show a lady his trouser snake, he ain’t joking. The crafty Mexico/America cross-border smuggler is a coyote coyote, in the literal sense. Last week Perez pleaded guilty to smuggling more than 1,700 wild animals into the U.S. over the course of six years. When he was busted in February, he had over sixty reptiles in his pants, including lizards, snakes, turtles, and baby crocodiles.

    The feds claim that “DACA Doolittle’s” exploits netted him over $739,000, a decent sum but perhaps not a big enough payday for most men to risk having snapping turtles and baby crocs next to their dingle.

    Cross-border animal smuggling is driven primarily by young Americans looking to spend big on exotic “status” pets. So the next time you come across a white hipster who brings his emotional support gecko into a coffee shop, you have yet another reason to hate him.

    Another market for Perez’s wares consists of Chinese immigrants who think that consuming exotic animals gives them magical powers (and it does; mainly, the power to kill millions of people worldwide).

    Perez is facing twenty years in prison, which is the good news. The bad news? QAnon true believers finally got convincing proof that there really are “lizard people” walking among us…unfortunately, rather than international bankers or monarchs, it’s just some beaner with skinks up his ass.

    BIAS REMORSE
    Colleges and universities are installing 24-hour “bias hotlines” that students can use to report instances of racism, genderism, cultural appropriation, microaggressions, macroaggressions, and macaroniaggressions (the angry chucking of pasta).

    Unsurprisingly, schools are finding it difficult to staff the phone banks, because operators spend all their time calling the hotline themselves to report the bias of callers calling the hotline to report bias.

    Caller: “I’m calling to report bias.”

    Operator: “Why aren’t you calling me ma’am?”

    Caller: “I can’t see you!”

    Operator: “Can’t, or won’t?”

    Caller: “Don’t de-centerize me!”

    Operator: “Don’t otherize me!”

    Some colleges have realized that it’s actually cheaper to set up a hotline for students to call when they don’t see bias. Those phones never ring.

    Plus, it’s getting harder to tell aggressor from victim in the dynamic world of bias incidents. Last week in Plano, Tex., a group of Indian women screamed bias when another woman told them to go back to India. When the Punjabis described the aggressive woman as white, she accused them of bias for not acknowledging that she’s Mexican.

    Mexicans against Indians? Like the song says, “You say tamale, I say Tamili.”

    And in Union City, Calif., Indian man Singh Tejinder was charged with a bias crime for calling Indian man Krishnan Jayaraman a “dirty Hindu.”

    Indian vs. Indian? More turban violence from people who should be bud-bud-buddies.

    Welcome to America; not so much a nation as the 24-hour bias hotline of the world.

    WE HOLD THESE TRUANTS TO BE SELF-EVIDENT…
    In theory, Covid-related school closures were just business as usual in Washington, D.C. The district’s public schools, nearly 70 percent black, boast the worst truancy rates in the entire U.S.

    According to the DCPS (and this was pre-Covid), “One in four kids in DC are chronically absent from school—which means missing 10 percent or more of the school year. At some DCPS high schools, three out of four students are chronically absent.”

    One wonders what those kids are doing with their days while not in school. In a city that’s only 4 percent Asian, are there enough old Chinawomen to punch?

    It’s against this backdrop of rampant nonattendance that D.C.’s dog of a mayor, Muriel Bowser, has decided to exclude non-vaxxed students from in-person on-campus learning.

    That’ll show ’em! Bowser literally thinks that threatening D.C. students with being officially barred from school is an effective strategy. The city would’ve been in better hands with Bowser from Sha Na Na. Hell, the city would be in better hands with an actual canine. Even a mediocre poodle has better sense than this halfwit.

    Fortunately, help is on the way from our nation’s libertarians! Reason magazine has been campaigning to get D.C. to overturn the unvaxxed ban. Reason’s Rand-y dandies have led a crusade to get the district’s kids back in class, pointing out that the majority of unvaxxed DCPS students are black, so the vax mandate translates to racist exclusion!

    And it worked. Last week, in response to Reason’s lobbying, D.C.’s Deputy Mayor for Education Paul Kihn announced that the mandate has been postponed until 2023; for now, all students, vaxxed or not, must return to class.

    And every black student in D.C. has Reason to thank for the cancellation of their permanent vacation.

    Reason staffers have been advised to stay off the streets, avoid the Metro, and generally leave town or barricade themselves in their basement. As these libertarians will soon find out, the NAP ain’t no match for the nappy.
    Never attempt to teach a pig to sing; it wastes your time and annoys the pig.

    Robert Heinlein

    Give a man an inch and right away he thinks he's a ruler

    Groucho Marx

    I love mankind…it’s people I can’t stand.

    Linus, from the Peanuts comic

    You cannot have liberty without morality and morality without faith

    Alexis de Torqueville

    Those who fail to learn from the past are condemned to repeat it.
    Those who learn from the past are condemned to watch everybody else repeat it

    A Zero Hedge comment

  22. #229
    The Week That Perished

    https://www.takimag.com/article/the-...-perished-207/

    The Week’s Most Crooning, Spooning, and Harvest Mooning Headlines

    QUEEN BEE (GONE)

    R.I.P. Queen Elizabeth, who passed away at age 96 after ramming her car into a house at full speed while high on cocaine and fentanyl.

    CORRECTION: That was Anne Heche. We apologize for the error.

    The Queen passed away peacefully, her morbid disappointment of a son by her side, a tragic reminder that England will now be overseen by a monarch who once wished he was a tampon. That’s not a joke. Netflix’s The Crown left it out of the series because the writers didn’t think millennials would believe it. Literally, the writers of The Crown feared that the generation that thinks a man in a dress is a biological woman wouldn’t buy that Prince Charles wanted to be a tampon.

    The Queen who tried to set Third World ingrates free only to see one marry her grandson leaves behind a long legacy of dignified service. And speaking of Third Worlders, Queen Elizabeth had the misfortune of passing away in the era of black Twitter, so of course every person of color felt the need to weigh in on why old white lady bad!

    The prize for top hip-hop grave-dancing must surely go to “Dr.” Uju Anya of Carnegie Mellon University (where she holds the Mugabe Chair in Cannibal Studies and Septum Nosebones). Within seconds of the Queen’s death, Professor Bongo tweeted “I heard the chief monarch of a thieving raping genocidal empire is finally dying. May her pain be excruciating. May she die in agony.”

    Fancy talk from someone who stole her name from an old-time Irish curse (“Ooh, Jew on ya,” which basically means “May you be cheated out of your money”).

    Turns out Uju Anya has her own history of racism. In 2020 the Nigerian-born pseudoacademic referred to American blacks as “akata,” a derogatory term meaning “wild animals,” used by Africans against their American kin. A petition to have the prof sanctioned by Carnegie Mellon, which stalled when first created, zipped back to life with hundreds of new signatures, fueled by outrage over Anya’s hateful tweet.

    Elizabeth’s parting shot from beyond the grave?

    You go, Queen.

    PUNCHIN’ JEWDIES

    Williamsburg? More like Williamsburgen-Belsen. The Brooklyn neighborhood has become a hotbed of anti-Jewish violence, and sadly the local Orthodox Jews have found that their magical eruv wires, while offering ample protection against Sabbath sinning, fail to block fists.

    Last week, three Orthodox were attacked by an assailant who sprayed them with a fire extinguisher.

    Okay, whoever’s been giving Smokey Bear copies of Protocols of Zion, stop it now.

    Also last week, in an incident that went viral, an irate bicyclist slugged an Orthodox Jew for stealing his brother’s parking space. Worse still, the brother’s car was forced into an UNRWA-administered refugee camp.

    Hopefully one day the car can reclaim the spot, based on the Right of Right-turn.

    Conservative actor and cranial wind-tunnel Matthew Marsden, whose 2019 “American soldier battles skinheads to save Jews” action film I Am That Man was so bad Ben Shapiro didn’t even try to shake it down for a cut, took to Twitter to declare that the parking fracas “is just one disturbing result of not teaching history properly.

    Yes, with more Holocaust education, New Yorkers would never get upset over parking.

    Here’s proof:

    Irate Brooklynite with zero Holocaust knowledge confronts Jew who stole a parking space:

    “Ya fuggin’ kike…you want a bar mitzvah? I’ll give you a SCAR mitzvah. You’ll challah in pain from my bagel and SOCKS. I’ll kick your assover for Passover.”

    Terrible puns. Completely subpar.

    Now let’s see that same situation after the irate Brooklynite has taken a ten-week Holocaust education course:

    “Ya fuggin’ kike…time for FISTallnacht. You’ll be black-and-blueden Juden. Action Reinhard? I’ll put you in TRACTION, SPINE-hard. I’m Josef MANGELE; welcome to POWschwitz.”

    Way better puns. And educational.

    Forget cops; all NYC needs is Holocaust ed. Finally, something George Soros and conservatives can agree on.

    CONDUMBED TO REPEAT

    Remember Barney Frank? He was that lovable Semite sodomite congressman from Beantown with the Elmer Fudd voice whose passions included rending the chains of inequality and the anuses of houseboys (“Be vewy vewy qwuiet…I’m hunting wectums”).

    Fwank helped usher in the Great Recession, thanks to his policy of moving nonwhite families into houses they couldn’t afford, all in the name of “equity.”

    In 2010, after the economy had been destroyed like so many rent-boy sphincters, Frank, who by then was giving speeches wearing skintight shirts that displayed his prominent boobs and nipples, conceded (without admitting fault), “It was a great mistake to push lower-income people into housing they couldn’t afford and couldn’t really handle once they had it.”

    Well, you know the old saying: Those who forget titstory are condemned to re-teat it. Bank of America announced last week that it’s offering a special deal to low-income blacks and Hispanics: Move into any house you want, zero down payment, zero closing-cost mortgage, zero mortgage insurance, zero minimum credit score.

    Your skin color will be your bond, say bankers who’d never give money to a black guy on the street but who’ll give an entire house to a black guy on trust alone.

    Amazingly, nobody seems to think this’ll go south, even though it did before. Fred Berry ain’t the only rerun in the ghetto.

    As for Barney Frank, he couldn’t be reached for comment, as he’s bedridden with his fifth case of monkeypox.

    “Wascally wash! I should’ve worn a wubber.”

    MECCA MOUSE CLUB

    Hooray for Halallywood! According to an article in last week’s Wall Street Journal, stodgy hot Medina is goin’ funky cold, as Saudi Arabia’s royal family is investing $1 trillion “to turn Saudi Arabia into a mass-market tourist destination,” a “desert Disneyland” complete with “resorts and eco-lodges.”

    Of course, the question arises, how exactly does a nation that criminalizes bikinis, alcohol, and sexuality compete for tourist bucks? This is a country where their version of Burning Man is the mass immolation of homosexuals. But never underestimate the ingenuity of people who can turn bedsheets into formal wear. The Saudis have several tricks up their sleeve for convincing travelers to spend their vacation in a place where stealing a hotel towel leads to court-ordered dismemberment.

    Although Saudi Arabia relaxed its Jew-ban several years ago, most Jews never got the memo, something that Saudi tourism minister Ali Makbeel hopes to exploit. “Sure, our 110-degree beaches are stifling when you have to wear heavy garments, but isn’t it worth it to not have to hear Jews bitching about the weather? I mean, you could go to Miami, where you can drink and dance. But around every corner is some old Yid going, ‘Oy, the humidity! It’s like a sauna.’ We can offer you a resort experience free of that!”

    Also, as it’s become practically impossible to hold any major county or state fair in the U.S. without roving gangs of thugs shooting the place up, Saudi officials are quick to boast of their inflexible law-and-order policies. “No Soros here,” Saudi justice minister Qurz T. Ali told the WSJ. “You Americans apologize for lynching; we use it as the minimum sentence for shoplifting.”

    As the Saudi king told the WSJ, “Perhaps our greatest appeal for Americans is the opportunity to visit the place of conception of something that changed the world.”

    When reminded that Mecca, the birthplace of Islam, is off-limits to non-Muslims, the king replied, “No, I’m not talking about Islam. I’m talking about 9/11. Come see where it all started!”

    SHEEEEIT HOME ALABAMA

    Have you seen the Gadsden Flag? Not the Revolutionary War one. The other one; the official flag of Gadsden, Ala. That flag depicts a beaten and bruised snake begging a black man, “Okay, tread on me, just don’t kill my wife and kids.”

    Gadsden is a very black city; almost 40 percent. Gadsden so black, its main crop is menthols. Gadsden so black, its highways get adopted by Angelina Jolie. Gadsden so black, its city seal is Seal.

    Gadsden’s also one of the most impoverished cities in Alabama.

    Gadsden so poor, you have a 1-in-14 chance of being robbed.

    Okay, that’s not much of a joke. But it’s true. Gadsden, which hovers between the third and sixth most dangerous city in the state depending on the year, boasts a crime rate 229 percent above the national average and a violent crime rate 188 percent higher.

    But fear not! Authorities in Gadsden are cracking down on crime. Which doesn’t mean arresting the thieves, rapists, and murderers. That would spark local unrest. No, Gadsden officials are targeting pregnant white women! Last week it was reported that a 23-year-old white girl named Ashley Banks Morris was arrested in Gadsden for pot possession. And when she told police she’s pregnant, cops refused to release her unless she went to a residential treatment facility where her fetus could be protected from drugs. But the local halfway house claimed she wasn’t a serious enough addict, so they wouldn’t take her.

    As a result, Morris was kept in a cell with no bed, forced to sleep on a cold hard floor for three months before a judge finally released her.

    That’ll teach that chick to endanger her fetus! Which, it turns out, was seriously endangered by the conditions of her three-month jail stay. Forget the Iron Bowl; Gadsden has the Irony Bowl.

    Meanwhile, during the time Morris was behind bars, a dozen people were murdered in the city. None of the suspects in those killings, however, proved as easy to apprehend as the pregnant white woman.

    The official state fruit of Alabama is the blackberry.

    The official city fruit of Gadsden is low-hanging.
    "Truly, whoever can make you believe absurdities can make you commit atrocities." - Voltaire

  23. #230
    The Week That Perished

    https://www.takimag.com/article/the-...-perished-208/

    Takimag

    September 18, 2022

    The Week’s Most Rancorous, Cankerous, and Cantankerous Headlines

    THE EMPEROR JONESTOWN

    If Corn Pop was a bad dude, wait till you meet Soda Pop.

    Get ready for carbonated bruthas.

    Black social media “influencer” Rashad Jamal considers himself “god,” and like all affirmative-action titles, it’s an unearned appellation. Jamal runs the University of Cosmic Intelligence, an online cult that preaches black superiority. And as online cults go, it’s no University of Phoenix. Jamal teaches that blacks are “carbonated beings,” a condition he ascribes to holiness but which is more likely the result of too many bean pies.

    Jamal’s cult has its own scriptures, complete with inspiring tales of signs and wonders, including the miracle of the shake machine (“And LaQueesha did seek a McFlurry, yet the machine was dry. Lo, she said unto it, ‘May no one ever drink from you again.’ And the shake machine did wither and die…because LaQueesha chucked it to the floor in righteous fury. And the cashiers were astonished”), and the parting of the ankle-deep sea (“And DeJaunte did stand before the stream of water, which could not be crossed by those for whom swimming is detestable. Yet in faith did he lift his blunt and stretch his hand across the stream, and behold dry ground appeared before him. For it was not a stream after all, but runoff from lawn sprinklers. And the sprinklers did cease, and DeJaunte was pleased”).

    However, like every black nightclub, hip-hop festival, and backyard BBQ, Jamal’s cult has been shuttered due to murders. One of his followers, Damien Washam, was arrested for slicing his mother in half with a sword (Washam? More like Slasham). Two other followers, Krystal Pinkins and Yasmine Hider, were arrested for the ambush murder of a Good Samaritan.

    And last week Jamal himself was charged with three counts of child molestation.

    Where’s Heaven’s Gate-style castration when you really need it?

    Merrick Garland has yet to weigh in on the murderous black-supremacist cult, as he’s too busy pursuing white parents who tell their children there are two genders.

    EMMY TILL

    Of course, the very notion of a “black cult” is redundant, as the entire community already functions as one.

    The Emmy comedy writing category has traditionally provided much-needed levity to distract audiences from the soul-killing realization that they’re watching the Emmys. From Tim Conway messing with Harvey Korman after Korman’s win, to Conway and Korman messing with Chevy Chase, to Milton Berle roasting the SCTV writers (and getting zinged back, to his surprise), to Conan O’Brien crashing Stephen Colbert’s win, it’s the one moment in an otherwise predictably dreadful three hours when viewers might briefly enjoy themselves.

    Fortunately, black people are here to stop that foolishness. Now that black women have been decreed sacred, there’ll be no tomfoolery when one of them wins an award.

    During last week’s Emmy’s, someone named Quinta Brunson (if you don’t know who she is, you’re in violation of federal law) was up for best comedy writing. A sentient blob of pizza dough named Jimmy Kimmel thought it would be funny to pretend to be passed out on stage as the nominees were read. When the winner turned out to be Brunson (because otherwise BLM would’ve burned down the auditorium), Kimmel committed to the bit and remained motionless behind her.

    So now he’s being “dragged” by “black Twitter” for his “white privilege” and “racism” in “robbing a black woman of her moment.”

    Not since Papa John said the N-word has pizza dough inspired such hatred from blacks.

    Kimmel, a remarkably untalented lump who became a high earner doing sexist comedy and wearing blackface before converting to wokeism, tried to explain that by playing dead, he was merely giving viewers what they hope for whenever they see him.

    Kimmel’s contrition didn’t dissuade the Magical Black Girl lynch mob from calling for his head for sullying Quantas Bunion’s moment with his “joke.”

    Because there’s nothing funny about a black woman winning an award. Just like there’s nothing funny about the shows they write.

    ARCHAEOLOGICAL BONERS

    Did you hear about the Polish vampire? He put solar panels on his coffin. Went to a carnival and got lost in the hall of mirrors. Bought his wife a cross-your-heart bra. Wouldn’t go to Africa because he heard they bless the rain.

    Polish archaeologists have uncovered the grave of an “actual” vampire. Granted, these are the same guys who once claimed to have unearthed the corpse of a werewolf, but it was just Robin Williams. However, what they found this time is the body of a 17th-century woman with a protruding tooth who’d been buried with a sickle pinning her down at the neck so she’d be decapitated should she arise (this was also how Polish doctors avoided malpractice suits when they mistakenly declared someone dead).

    Needless to say, leftists caterwauled about how the corpse proves Western “misogyny”; just because a woman was “unique,” she was declared a monster.

    But hold on; those talking points are transphobic! You can’t assume the vampire’s sex by its bones.

    According to “Scientific American” (which earns those scare quotes daily), “dimorphism” is a myth invented by 18th-century Westerners (“dimorphism,” which refers to visually verifiable physical differences between males and females, is present in all primates except gibbons and Korean boy bands).

    Before the late 18th century, Western science recognized only one sex—the male—and considered the female body an inferior version of it. The shift historians call the “two-sex model” served mainly to reinforce gender and racial divisions by tying social status to the body.

    Yes, before the late 18th century, Westerners believed that all humans were male; “women” were simply wimpier men who for some reason had no penis and produced babies. These evil Westerners invented the idea of “woman” because of racism something something something.

    So obviously, 17th-century Poles couldn’t possibly be misogynists if they didn’t recognize women.

    Also obviously, there’s no vampire of fact or fiction as malevolent and destructive as the cancerous frauds at “Scientific American,” and there’s no better use for a sickle than to pin down the corpses of these creatures when they die, just to be on the safe side.

    DEEP FRIED AND BATTERIED

    Something delicious is cooking in China. Something fried. Is it rice? Pork? Fish?

    Nope, just thousands of tiny inscrutable Chins cooking to death in their electric cars.

    This year, Chinese conglomerate BYD announced that it had overtaken Tesla as the world’s No. 1 producer of electric vehicles. BYD EVs are sporty and economical, and the windshield wiper fluid is the tears of Uyghur children forced to watch the execution of their parents.

    There’s only one problem with BYD’s electric vehicles: They keep charbroiling Chinks. Seven EVs a day catch fire in China, 680 in the first quarter of 2022 alone. Although the Chinese are hardly interested in environmental activism (a 2018 visit to Beijing from Greta Thunberg merely confused Chinese leaders, who’d never encountered a child outside a sweatshop), they do love domination. So in their drive to top the market in cheap EVs, they’ve ignored minor points like drivers being steer-fried behind the wheel.

    The epidemic of EV fires has been particularly hard on Chinese firemen. Not only are EV fires notoriously difficult to extinguish, but after dousing a chargrilled Chinaman, an hour later you want another one (that joke earns a Greta Thunberg “How dare you”).

    Here’s Joe Biden’s dream of universal EVs, playing out as a nightmare overseas. Mind you, in the U.S. it could be argued that the mass immolation of EV drivers might not be such a bad thing.

    The Chinese EV Holocaust (visit a BYD Shoah room today!) has prompted Toyota, which in 2019 embarked on a joint venture with BYD to produce hybrids, to reduce its long-term EV manufacturing goals.

    Toyota’s position is that one Hiroshima per century is enough.

    When informed of Toyota’s decision to scale back EVs because people were being cooked alive, Greta Thunberg angrily declared, “How medium-rare you.”

    MARVEL’S EXTENDED JEWNIVERSE

    Speaking of the Shoah…in the 1990s Marvel had a supervillain named Holocaust who appeared in X-Men comics. He was a difficult villain to fight because if you questioned him, you’d go to prison in Europe.

    Holocaust appeared in more than 100 Marvel story lines, although some claim that figure’s greatly exaggerated.

    Holocaust wasn’t the only Jewish Marvel character over the years; there was also Magneto’s wife, Nagneto, a screeching yenta whose superpower was the ability to cause stress-induced heart attacks from her nonstop bitching.

    Last week, Marvel announced that it’s bringing to the screen its most iconic Jewish superhero: Sabra. First seen in a 1981 issue of The Incredible Hulk, Sabra is an Israeli policewoman who has the ability to fire porcupine-like needles from her wrists, which makes her only slightly more abrasive than the average Israeli.

    In Sabra’s debut appearance, Hulk brought peace to the Middle East by mindlessly smashing everything in a fit of blind anger while yelling in incomprehensible broken English.

    If that’s what it takes to finally bring peace to that region, forget foreign aid; just send Tel Aviv our supply of black McDonald’s patrons.

    Marvel will be featuring Sabra in the next Captain America film, prompting Israeli activists to worry that the zealously Zionist character will be softened by wokeness, and prompting Arab activists to worry that she won’t.

    Most likely, considering Marvel’s recent track record, Sabra will be reinvented as a disabled Eritrean bi-curious transfemme androgyne genderfuid two-spirit abortionist.

    Meanwhile, Sabra’s Arab adversaries will be portrayed as noble fighters for freedom, because Marvel would never mess with Muslims, who possess a real-life superpower: the ability to turn cartoonists into headless corpses.
    "Truly, whoever can make you believe absurdities can make you commit atrocities." - Voltaire

  24. #231
    The Week That Perished

    https://www.takimag.com/article/the-...-perished-209/

    Takimag

    September 25, 2022

    The Week’s Most Griefing, Debriefing, and Autumn-Leafing Headlines

    PRINCESS OF WHALES

    Nobody’s saying Rolling Stone film critic Katie Rife is fat, but her dress size is IMAX. Nobody’s saying she’s heavy, but any theater she enters becomes an underground cinema. Nobody’s saying she’s massive, but when she walks through Hollywood the guys at Griffith Observatory yell, “Down in front!”

    In fact, the only person making a big deal out of Katie Rife’s weight is Katie Rife. While all of Hollywood is cooing over Darren Aronofsky’s critical hit The Whale and the career resurgence it’s given to inoffensive Canuck Brendan Fraser, Rife simply cannot go along with the crowd (though to be fair, she’s a one-person crowd).

    The Whale is the tale of a morbidly obese man (played by Fraser in a fat suit) coming to terms with his mortality. But to Rife, the film gives fat people an “ugly image” (no, that’s actually the work of pork rinds and Pepsi).

    Rife found the movie “triggering,” claiming it “reinforces the notion that fat people have brought their suffering upon themselves through lack of coping skills. I’m really feeling like $#@! after that viewing experience,” she tweeted. “There’s a scene where the main character drops a key and can’t pick it up, and PEOPLE WERE LAUGHING” (Rife’s anger is understandable; the film stole her bit).

    Regarding the refusal of Fraser’s character to seek medical attention, Rife angrily pointed out “the very obvious reason why a 650lb person would avoid doctors: IT’S CALLED MEDICAL FATPHOBIA YOU ABSOLUTE PRICKS.”

    Indeed, a competent doctor would simply tell a 650lb guy to “identify as skinny.”

    Katie Rife: a big woman with big ideas. A critic leaving a deep, indelible imprint on the world of film, as she’s done to so many couches.

    BROWNIE V. BOARD OF EDUCATION

    Speaking of obesity…

    Junk food is now trans. If a doughnut covered in gummi bears identifies as a vegetable, it’s a vegetable.

    This is the inevitable next step in a world where a man can think himself into being a woman and every black person’s a genius by virtue of skin color.

    Black genius “Dr.” Kera Nyemb-Diop runs a website dedicated to spreading the message that (and this is a direct quote) “The only foods that are bad for you are foods that contain allergens, poisons, and contaminants, or foods that are spoiled or otherwise inedible. Eat without guilt regardless of what society says.” Last week, the L.A. Unified School District’s “equity and diversity” Instagram posted one of Nimrod-Dip’s videos in which she declares that a plate of chocolate doughnuts with sprinkles is just as nutritious as a plate of vegetables.

    According to Numbnuts-Derp, anyone who claims that one food is healthier than another is a literal racist, a food fascist, a Joseph Gobbles, a Lavrentiy Strawberia, a Pol Potluck. Indeed, Michelle Obama is the worst Nazi ever for her campaign to remove “unhealthy” foods from school lunches.

    Typical transfatphobe.

    LAUSD removed the video and refused to answer questions regarding why it was posted in the first place. Maybe because the story, like strawberry swirl ice cream, has a twist: Turns out Nyuck-Nyuck-Dope is a paid employee of Mondolez, which manufactures…candy and snacks (including Cadbury, Toblerone, Sour Patch Kids, Chips Ahoy, and Oreos).

    Yes, the second-largest school district in the U.S. allowed a paid corporate propagandist for a snack company to tell students that candy is as good for them as any other food. In theory, that should be a big story. The reason it isn’t is the same reason LAUSD posted the video: Black geniuses can’t be wrong.

    That’s some meshugga-coated nutty fudge.

    TURNING HE-ITES INTO SHIITES

    Just as corporations are learning how to leverage black immunity from criticism to achieve undreamed-of victories (like getting a school district to declare junk food nutritious), foreign despots are exploiting the West’s tranny worship to improve their image abroad.

    For example, did you know that Iran is the tranniest place on earth? A leading location for sex-change operations? It might seem counterintuitive that Iran, with its draconian measures that keep women covered head-to-toe and segregated as second-class citizens, would become a “medical tourism” hot spot for men who are dunya with their dhikr, for Imans who want to become Imams, for dudes who want their salaami replaced with a kamal toe, but it’s true.

    According to the American Iranian Council, “Being transgender is not considered a violation of Iranian theocratic principles. Sex-reassignment surgery is not only legal in Iran, but Tehran is considered to be an international hub for obtaining it. The procedure’s been allowed since Ayatollah Khomeini learned of the hardships of a transwoman and issued a religious decree to legalize it in the mid-1980s.”

    Actually, sounds like ol’ Khomeini got “trapped” by a shemale and in his morning-after regret decided to rationalize the whole thing as “halal.”

    The Council further explains that because Farsi already uses gender-neutral pronouns, “transgender and other non-binary individuals in Iran experience a unique form of verbal inclusivity.”

    And yet, as the mullahs champion trans-friendliness, women are being beaten to death for not wearing hijabs. Protests erupted throughout the country last week after a 22-year-old woman was murdered by Iran’s “morality police” for having an uncovered head.

    If there’s confusion about the mullahs’ policies regarding trannies vs. their policies regarding women, there shouldn’t be. Iran’s clerics correctly understand trannyism as just another cudgel against women, another way to demean, humiliate, and erase them. It’s actually 100 percent appropriate that Iran would be pro-tranny.

    Also, in a nation where male-on-male sex is punishable by death, allowing men to legally classify as women is a neat little workaround for getting some zoro up the astrian.

    ATTENTION DEFICIT SPENDING

    In Live and Let Die, Caribbean dictator Dr. Kananga—an Idi Amin/Papa Doc Duvalier amalgam—hatches a plan to bring down the U.S.: give out free heroin nationwide, and once the entire country is hooked, foreign enemies can march in unopposed.

    The only hitch in Kananga’s plan is that it’s predicated on the notion that the only thing preventing every American from doing heroin is price.

    “I hope I get that raise; I’ve really wanted to get into heroin.”

    “I just won the lottery! Heroin, here I come!”

    Still, Kananga was on the right track, he just had the wrong drug. There’s currently a national shortage of Adderall, and the nation’s falling apart over it. Turns out Kananga shouldn’t have bothered with free heroin; he should’ve started a tinpot med school churning out doctors who prescribe cradle-to-grave psychotropics.

    In a piece about how the Adderall shortage is affecting everyday Americans, Bloomberg interviewed a Chicago car salesman who can’t remember his inventory without Adderall, and a Michigan high school special ed teacher who, lacking Adderall, “spaced out” while trying to calm a student distraught over suicide (it could be argued that a teacher who needs medication to take student suicide seriously might not be cut out for the job).

    And Bloomberg only scratched the tragic surface of cases of spaced-out, absent-minded, Adderall-deprived Americans. In Chicago, young blacks now have to bring itemized lists on their shoplifting sprees or they forget what to steal.

    In NYC, black men have become so dazed, they’re pushing old Asian ladies onto subway tracks after the trains have left.

    In L.A., an Adderall-deprived Mexican stabbed a pile of leaves and blew a rival gang member, and in San Francisco, a homeless guy became so disoriented he used a toilet.

    Even doctors are not immune to Adderall withdrawal brain-fog. At Boston Children’s Hospital, a disoriented pediatrician mistakenly let a 13-year-old girl keep her breasts.

    Is the Adderall shortage an accident? Or Biden’s master plan for the midterms: scramble the brains of Americans to the point where he appears competent by comparison.

    ANCHOR BABY, YOU’RE AN ENRICHED MAN

    In the past month alone, American’s have been enriched good and hard by illegals.

    Alabama: Illegal Mexican José Paulino Pascual-Reyes carved up his girlfriend for carnitas and held her 12-year-old daughter as a sex slave.

    North Carolina: Two illegal Mexicans, Alder Alfonso Marin-Sotelo and Arturo Marin-Sotelo, murdered a sheriff’s deputy.

    California: Venezuelan illegal Jose Rafael Solano-Landaeta decapitated his ex-girlfriend with a sword.

    New Hampshire: Honduran illegal Jose Miguel Ramirez-Vasquez stabbed a young dancer to death.

    So much enrichment! And by our new class of hyphenated elites (“I say, are you attending the Pascual-Reyes cotillion? Oh, you simply must go. I hear their quesadillas will have three cheeses”).

    Over in McCulloch County, Tex., local officials have decided that the violent crimes of brown illegals pale in seriousness compared with an 80-year-old white man saying “wetback.” Immigration judge Edgar Allen Amos faces an ethics probe because last week, in a private conversation, he claimed that the affluent illegals he’s been seeing in court, sporting designer clothes and using the latest high-tech gear, are “not your regular wetbacks.”

    So for not calling illegals wetbacks, he now faces removal from the bench and, according to the Daily Beast, a review of “every ruling he’s made in Texas courts,” which could result in all of his deportation orders being reversed.

    And while Edgar Allen shall nevermore preside over wetbacks (regular or extra-soggy), over in Bexar County, Sheriff Javier Salazar, a Democrat, has vowed to bring to justice the Florida officials who robbed his state of illegals by sending them to Martha’s Vineyard.

    Salazar’s back may not be wet, but there’s water aplenty on his brain.

    All of this transpired as the Census Bureau announced that Hispanics are now the largest plurality in Texas, for the first time since Mexico owned the place.

    Wet back in the saddle again.
    "Truly, whoever can make you believe absurdities can make you commit atrocities." - Voltaire

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