Kindred Spirit

I find myself curiously lethargic these days, when it comes to blogging.  Oh sure, the occasional action of some politician (e.g. Barr’s, yesterday) will pierce the blanket of lethargy and cause me to start looking around for the hammer and nails (okay, the AK-47 and a bandolier of cartridges), but mostly, I’m of the same mind as Taki’s Jim Goad, who took a week off from politics and feels all the better for it.

No matter what I write or how I vote, the debt is higher, there’s no wall, immigration is unchecked, Israel is still America’s master, I have no say in how the government spends even a dollar of the money it bleeds from me, nearly all journalists are dishonest, most people are deeply and incurably stupid, Republicans and Democrats are two arms on the same Frankenstein, the USA is culturally fractured beyond repair, the press still uses the euphemism “teens” for “black rioters,” women still make false rape claims while denying the very existence of false rape claims, white people are being systematically dehumanized by the same propagandists who scoff at the very notion that white people are being systematically dehumanized, trannies remain “the gender they were assigned at birth” no matter if they spend a million dollars to mutilate themselves, the “oppressed” would be just as rotten as the “oppressors” if only given the chance…etc. etc.

Read all of it to get the full flavor.

So for the next week or so, expect nothing more from this blog than gratuitous gun pics, studies of beautiful women, fine works of art and music, discussions of cars and… errrr wait a minute.

But like Joad, I’m taking a holiday from politics for as long as I can stand it.

Let’s just hope that the politicians don’t fuck it up, like they do so many things.

Go Back

From Liz Sheld at PJM:

Rep. Elijah Cummings (D-Md.), chairman of the House Oversight Committee said on a Sunday snuff show that Trump’s tweets telling The Squad to “go back to where they came from” reminded him of the time he was told to “go back from where he came from.” Cummings made his remarks to George Stephanopoulos, who also revealed that has been told to “go back to where he came from.”  This is a new epidemic, so many Democrats have been told to “go back,” why are we only hearing about it until now?

I have to say that nobody has ever told me  to go back to where I came from, but that may be because I’ve made every effort not  to change the United States nation as I see it, but to preserve  it — original intent of the Founders, traditional American values and traditions, strict Constitutional construction, reverence for the flag and all it stands for, unswerving loyalty to our Armed Forces, respect for law and order, paying taxes, serving on a jury, defending the United States against criticism when traveling overseas (okay, I’m not sure whether a drunken fistfight with a Scot constitutes actual defense, but hey)… and of course, I don’t think I have to prove my undying support for the Second Amendment (along with the nochschleppers  in the Bill of Rights).  Frankly, if someone were to tell me to go back, I’d have nowhere to go.  I’m here, and I’m staying — to the utter dismay, I hope, of liberal assholes and socialists everywhere.

As for these fucking Socialist Congressweasels (we all know who they are), the same cannot be said.

I’m not setting myself up as some paragon of civic virtue, here;  but at the same time, I would suggest that my version of civic virtue is more in line with mainstream America than theirs — and I suspect that there are far more like me than there are of them — even among “traditional” Democrat voters.

I guess we’ll just have to wait for the 2020 elections to see if what I say is true.

Old-Fashioned? Me?

I am often accused of being an old-fashioned man.  This, despite the fact that I’m using a keyboard to enter my thoughts into a digital medium via a thing called the Internet.  And hey, I prefer brass cartridges over muzzle-loading, so I’m not that  old-fashioned (unlike some of my Readers, who believe that this brass thing is just a passing fad).

If you want to know what gets me going, however, consider the following pics, and guess why I tend to prefer tradition over modernity.  We’ll open with the modern ones:

Interior design:

Cars:

Handguns:

Women:

Men’s appearance:

Foods:

And you all know about my preferences in architecture:

So yeah, I guess I am old-fashioned.  Feel free to envy me.

Out Of The Past 2

Barricades, Explained

November 26, 2008
5:04 AM CDT

In a long-ago discussion in Comments, I made the statement that if I had my preference, I’d like to die either asleep in my wife’s arms, or else on the barricades.

I think I’d better explain the latter, because someone may get the wrong impression, and I’d hate that to happen.

Although I’ve started to look like a Frenchman and am descended from the French, most Gallic qualities have long since been burned off by the passage of generations. Most especially, the need for le geste magnifique, mais inutile (the magificent, but futile, gesture) has long ago been purged from my psyche.

So don’t expect me to rush to the barricades when The Glorious Day comes, AK clutched in wrinkled grasp, with ringing exhortations coming from my lips.

I am uncomfortable in the role of “revolutionary leader”. I’m not a rabble rouser, or an agitator. I seek not to form an army, or an underground movement, or any kind of Maquis. I don’t care about glory, or notoriety, or any of that nonsense. I am, quite simply, a man who will go so far, and no further, and who will resist oppression without fanfare, without recognition, and without a qualm.

I am also not a terrorist, or “freedom fighter”, and I will never engage in any activities which are proactive against Our Enemy, The State.

may, however, choose to resist, in a manner of my own choosing, because I have various boundaries, personal boundaries, which may or may not be the same as those of others.

So my “barricade” would be a lot simpler, and a lot more personal.

It could be at my doorstep, when agents of the State come to confiscate my suddenly-illegal guns.

It could be in a court of law, when I am forced to choose between paying a fine for disobeying an unjust law, and going to prison. (It will, I promise you, be the latter.)

It could be when the State tries to confiscate or trespass on my property.

It could be when the State threatens my family.

It could be when the State tries to load me, or any other “undesirables”, into the cattle cars (real, or metaphysical).

It could be when an agent of the State demands “Papieren, bitte” and I show them my tattoo instead.

It could be when I am restricted in, or forbidden to exercise my freedom of speech, or any of the other freedoms enumerated in the Constitution and the Bill of Rights. I will decide what constitutes “reasonable” when it comes to restrictions thereon, and not some Congressman, lawyer, judge, policeman or government bureaucrat.

Just like Nock before me, I’m not intent on “setting an example”, or influencing others, or making a splash of any kind. Those who wish, may do what I do, or not. Those who wish to castigate me for my choices may do so, but it will have no effect. Those who wish to use me as an example do so without my consent or blessing, and those who expect me to “lead” them will be disappointed.

I am a quiet man, a reasonable man, but I am not nor will ever be a slave to the State. I left one country to escape that, and I will not live like that in my adopted one.

So if I die on the barricades, it may be known to others, or else just an unseen spark which flickers and dies in the darkness. Either way, I am indifferent. But it will be known to the agents of the State, I can promise you that. I will not go quietly into that dark night of oppression. It may well turn out to have been a futile gesture, but it will not be futile for me.

I may have lost most Gallic qualities, as I said earlier, but the one I have most definitely lost is the impulse to surrender.

And that’s all I’ll have to say on the topic. Ever.