The “Clean Vs. Dirty” Thing

One of Jeff Goldstein’s fine statements in Maybe I’ll be there to shake your hand (as discussed in the above post) is this one:

The Global Elites behind BlackRock, Vanguard, State Street, the WEF, the WHO, the UN, et al., have never liked that presumptuous, barely-credentialed nobodies, can get on planes and travel the globe, just as they do. They never accepted that the filthies can eat a fine rib eye, or drive a nice car, or own a comfortable home — and not have to rely on their largess, or answer to their diktats.

For those who missed the allusion to “filthies”, here’s its foundation:  another Jeff (Tucker) wrote a brilliant piece called Clean vs. Dirty: A Way to Understand Everything, and here’s its basic premise:

It is possible to understand nearly everything going on today – the Covid response, the political tribalism, the censorship, the failure of the major media to talk about anything that matters, the cultural and class divides, even migration trends – as a grand effort by those people who perceive themselves to be clean to stay away from people they regard as dirty.

They don’t want pet waste on their carpet, thus comparing ideas with which they disagree with a nasty pathogen. They are seeking to stay clean.
In this case and in every case, they are glad for the government to operate as the clean-up crew. It’s dirty ideas and people who hold them they oppose. They don’t want to have friends who articulate them or live in communities where such people live.

And the reason they don’t want to deal with people like Tucker Carlson, Ann Coulter, Elon Musk or, for that matter, any unwashed scum with uncomfortable ideas supported by incontrovertible evidence and/or historical precedent — the reason is that their own worldview is based upon theory and (they think) altruism.  The thing about both theory and altruism is that these are clean philosophies — their motives are pure, you see — and they hate to see those cherished ideals get messed upon when some Unwashed (like, for example, me) points out that their climate “science” is based upon shaky data and wishful thinking, while their predictive models are hopelessly in accurate and cannot form the basis of social or political policy.

The Cleanies likewise hate it when someone lowers income tax rates, because revenues will be “lost” — except, of course, that anyone with the slightest knowledge of history (never mind economics) can point out that when tax rates are cut, tax revenues increase, in some cases massively.

But those messy, messy realities sully the purity of their philosophy, so best to ignore — or better yet, suppress — those dirty realists.

Of course, the reality I’d like to impose on them is fairly simple:

…but no doubt, someone’s going to have a problem with this Occamic proposition.

It might, however, be the only solution — messy though it is.

New Africa, Same As Old Africa

Now it’s the Sudan which has exploded:

Fighting has erupted across Khartoum and at other sites in Sudan in a battle between two powerful rival military factions, engulfing the capital Khartoum in warfare for the first time and raising the risk of a nationwide civil conflict.  The fighting between forces loyal to two top generals has put the nation at risk of collapse and could have consequences far beyond its borders.  Both sides have tens of thousands of fighters, foreign backers, mineral riches and other resources that could insulate them from sanctions.  It’s a recipe for the kind of prolonged conflict that has devastated other countries in the Middle East and Africa, from Lebanon and Syria to Libya and Ethiopia. The fighting, which began as Sudan attempted to transition to democracy, already has killed hundreds of people and left millions trapped in urban areas, sheltering from gunfire, explosions and looters.  

Even better:

Sudan borders five additional countries: Libya, Chad, the Central African Republic, Eritrea and South Sudan, which seceded in 2011 and took 75% of Khartoum’s oil resources with it. Nearly all are mired in their own internal conflicts, with various rebel groups operating along the porous borders.

In other words, same ol’ Africa.  Here’s a map, for a little perspective:

Most notably, every single African country on this map can most charitably described as a “shithole”.

Anyway…

Forgive me if I don’t give a shit, about any of them.

We’re All Gonna Die (Again) Pt. 27

India’s latest contribution to the world (other than more Indians) is the Arcturus virus, which is ten times deadlier than Asian Killer Hornets and “ghost guns” combined.

Once again, we have the panic-inducing headlines from the usual suspects:

Arcturus has already killed 5 Brits: New super-infectious Covid strain now makes up one in 40 new cases amid fears it could trigger fresh wave

The variant, thought to be the most infectious yet, is causing carnage in India, with cases having exploded 90-fold since it first took off two months ago.

…which has the usual not-so hidden agenda:

Some of the worst-hit states have already brought back mandatory face masks to control its rapid spread.

This, from a country which allows the families of recently-deceased to deposit the corpses in the streets at night, to be picked up by local government workers as part of the morning’s trash collection.

Considering that the Indian population is now larger than China’s, in a country which doesn’t have anything like China’s industry to feed it, a cynic might suggest that Arcturus is, on balance, not that great a threat to India at all.

And even if the death rate in Britain explodes ninety-fold like India’s, that would raise the tally to… uh, carry the 3, to 450 — which in a British population of 67 million, is ummm far less than the number of elderly people killed in pedestrian accidents last year.  The first non-Indian fatality from this doubleplusungood NewWuFlu, by the way, was an elderly Brit living in Thailand, and in poor health.

In other words, this new bug (just like the WuFlu) is going to kill some old people with existing health issues — in further words, a nothingburger — unless we get the usual overreaction from government.

And I’m going to take a wild guess and say that if Big Brother and his Karens try to do all that WuFlu lockdown / social distancing / mask mandates / closing businesses stuff, people are going to tell government to get fucked.  Once bitten and all that.

One would hope so, anyway;  but if there’s one thing we do know, it’s that some people are quite comfortable with the government’s boot pressing down on their neck.

Ten Things That Make Me Proud To Be American

Inspired by the Brit list, here is mine.

In drawing up my list, I hearkened back to my travels outside the U.S., and asked myself:  what were the things I missed most whilst Over There, and what were the things I was glad to have or see when I returned?

My Top Ten (in order):

  1. the Second Amendment to the U.S. Constitution
  2. the First Amendment to the U.S. Constitution
  3. the notion that what isn’t expressly forbidden, is allowed
  4. checks and balances on government
  5. the freedom to succeed or to screw up (and then to try again)
  6. a jillion TV channels
  7. huge pickup trucks
  8. restaurant- and other choices
  9. rodeos
  10. interstate highways

The first five on the list are self-evident, especially as they are almost universally absent from foreign countries;  and I’ll talk about that in yet another post because it deserves a longer exposition.

The last five points are personal, but important.

Only when your TV is confined to a few (usually State-controlled) channels do you realize how nice it is to have a choice — even among dreck.

Large pickup trucks are lovely — they are powerful, not really necessary (unless you’re pulling a large trailer or farming) and one of the things that tourists comment on the most.  And the fact that pickup trucks are by far the most popular choice among ordinary Americans says it all.

Drive along a non-U.S. highway with a gnawing hunger and see how hard it is to find a restaurant of any description along the way.  Granted, our choices are often only from the Usual Suspects (the top 30 chains), but at least there’s a choice.  In Yurp, you often have to go into a town to buy food, which is okay if you’re a tourist, but it must suck if you’re a local.

Nothing says “America” like a damn rodeo:  tough people doing a dangerous thing for fun.

It’s only when you’re trying to get from point A to point B without having to go through C, D and E that you appreciate the freedom associated with our highways.  Now, as  rule I myself try to avoid the stupid things as much as possible;  but when you need one, it’s there for you to use.

Conspicuously absent from my list are things that are uniquely American, but that don’t touch me:  the Grand Canyon, the Empire State Building, Broadway shows, the Rocky Mountains, etc. etc.  Landscape features are just things — the Grand Canyon is a large hole in the ground, the Hoover Dam is a chuck of concrete, every country has a Broadway, the Alps are just as stunning as the Rockies, and so on.

But a busy shooting range and gun show (see point #1) are so much more American than anything one may find elsewhere, and ditto all the other related stuff in each point.

The Ultimate American Car

Over the years, I have got a ton of flak from my Readers about my love of European cars, and especially my preference for European cars over American ones (never mind the Japanese and others).

In the above post, I created my list of things that make me proud to be American — and yet, it does make me just a trifle ashamed that among those things, I only mentioned American-made trucks, and a generic admiration at that.

So I set about doing some research about American cars, but apart from a very few, I found little to enthuse about.  And to be frank, with the possible exception of the latest models of Corvettes, there are no American cars of recent vintage that get my juices running and my manly parts excited. Of course, that means I have to go back in time — like that should come as a surprise to anyone who has even a passing familiarity with my rants and fevered scribblings — and really, it’s only as far back as the 1950s where I start thinking of cars that are proudly and unmistakably American.

Sure, there’s the late 1950s-era Chev Bel-Air:

…whose shape is admittedly more American in spirit than at least five American presidents I could name;  but Chevy is a boring marque.  Underneath all that chrome and those fins is just… [snore]

There’s also the 1959 Cadillac Eldorado Biarritz:

Once again, it says (or rather, bellows) “American!!!” but really, despite the four tons of chrome and the space-program fins, it’s more of a land barge than a car.

Nah, we have to look further and delve deeper into that era.

Which brings me to my absolute favorite American car:  the 1957 Studebaker Golden Hawk.

Oh, please.  A snorting, powerful supercharged 4.7-liter V8 (okay, 289 cu.in.) which gave the light-bodied Hawk an 0-60mph acceleration time of 4.8 seconds and a top end of over 125mph, which blew the doors off its Dodge, Ford and Chevy competitors.

The Golden Hawk was probably the first true American muscle car, and if that doesn’t get my starter motor cranking, nothing will.  The GH also has matchless American looks — even though it was styled by Raymond Loewy, a Frenchman(!) — and in contrast to its European sporting counterparts, it’s a proper four-seater sports car and not the Euro-style “2+2” (meaning “fits two adults up front and two legless dwarves in the back”).

And it has a bench front seat so that you can cuddle up to your sweetheart at the drive-in movie (or anywhere else).  Let’s not forget the capacious trunk and even — gasp! — seatbelts.

“Oh noes, Kim,” I can hear the plaintive cries now, “don’t you know that Studebakers were notoriously unreliable with questionable build quality?”

Yeah… ask me again about my love of Austin Healey, Alfa Romeo, Maserati, MG and Fiat sports cars.  Unreliable?  Don’t make me laugh.

I would rather drive the Golden Hawk in the above picture than any American car, of any vintage or brand.

So if any car is going to be added to the list of things which make me proud to be American, this is the one.


By the way:  here is a lovely, affectionate history of Studebaker and its cars, done quite differently to the typical boring documentary.

Also:  I could be talked into this Golden [sic] Hawk, whose color isn’t quite as shouty as the red one:

…but “not shouty”?  Positively un-American, innit?

Tuckered Out

I see that the Dirty Digger has fired Tucker Carlson because reasons (you pick ’em;  they’re probably all correct).

Best comment so far:

No real reason to watch Fox News anymore, even though I only ever watched Tucker and Gutfeld — and Gutfeld’s not enough to hold me.

At the beginning, Roger Ailes was asked by Murdoch what he was going to bring to Fox News, to which Ailes is reputed to have answered, “Half the market” — and then he did just that.

Now, of course, it’s Fox’s turn to wave good-bye to that half of the market as Fox News turns into CNN Lite.

So long, Murdochspawn.