Dept. Of Righteous Shootings

The story: some Scumbag threatens Our Hero with a gun, then threatens Our Hero’s family — whereupon Our Hero pulls his gun and ends Scumbag’s criminal career for good with the assistance of some hot lead. Details here.

And of course, because this happened in Texas there will be no charges filed (the report says it’s “unclear”, but what’s crystal clear is that if the prosecutor does file charges, he’ll be tossed out of office, if not worse).

Livin’ The Dream

So this guy inherited a bank, had no interest in running it, and sold it for three quarters of a billion dollars. Then he set out to do what any super-wealthy Formula 1 enthusiast would do: he built his own racetrack in his backyard where he can race his $5-million collection of sports cars whenever he feels like it.

And just to add to y’all’s jealousy, the 52-year old guy’s racing companion is his 23-year-old girlfriend, the wonderfully-named Clemence Lepeyre:

I know: he’s ugly, she’s young and gorgeous; he has lots of money, she has… well, you know.

Sounds like everyone’s happy except the Usual Suspects (in this case, the envious socialists because he dares to be rich and enjoys spending his money, and the envious harpies who whine about the couple’s age difference, like he’s going to settle for some old frump about his own age lol).

To all us guys, though, this man is a god. (What else would you do with $726 million and no charitable instincts?) All he needs to make this thing perfect is an air-conditioned 500-yard indoor range somewhere. (By the way, I love the track layout: it has something for everyone and every kind of sports car.)

As I’ve often said before: money doesn’t buy you happiness, but it sure as hell buys you a better class of unhappiness. Now all I need is to buy that winning PowerBall ticket so I can test that hypothesis for myself…

Remembrance Day

In Flanders fields the poppies grow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
John McCrae, “In Flanders Field”

…and to update the sentiment:

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
— Robert Laurence Binyon,  from “For The Fallen”

It’s Not Charity

…or perhaps it is, in its finest form. Read this personal account about dealing with the Houston floods:

The response of Texans, and Americans from all across the country, to the catastrophic Houston flooding proves the power and resilience of the human spirit. The magnitude of the logistics, the care, and yes, the love, is beyond extraordinary. I know. I have seen it.
Dozens of organizations virtually built a small city almost overnight in a space the size of 10-12 football fields. Evacuees from the floodwaters in Southeast Texas came in by the hundreds, then by the thousands. Hundreds of volunteers rushed in from nearly every state.
The Red Cross set up 5,000 cots and provided people who had lost almost everything with blankets, toiletries, showers, laundry service, child care, relocation and job counseling, and many other services. Salvation Army volunteers fed everyone, including volunteers, three meals a day. Volunteers from churches brought in water, juice, snacks, clothing, pillows, and other essentials. Children were provided school clothes, toys, books, puppet shows, and supervised play areas. Chaplains were giving out Bibles and providing spiritual comfort.
A small hospital was put together, including units for triage, primary and acute care, and stocked with all necessary medical equipment and supplies. Scores of doctors, nurses, and other medical staff worked shifts lasting anywhere from eight to eighteen hours. Medical services included mental health counseling, social work, and transport to other medical centers for dialysis and other critical needs.
Walmart established a fully stocked pharmacy for critical prescription needs like insulin and heart medication. HEB set up a store providing food, clothing, and other personal items at no charge. Evacuees were given free transportation to the Dallas Zoo, Six Flags Over Texas, outdoor movies, museums, and other cultural attractions. I even saw a small boy getting a haircut in a makeshift barber shop.
Texas National and State Guard, local police, firefighters, and EMT personnel, and other first responders, were there to provide security and safety, while checking evacuees in and out of the building. Janitorial staff worked around the clock to keep the shelter clean and free of trash. Emergency management volunteers performed countless duties to ensure that the flood victims had whatever they needed. FEMA was there for logistical, equipment, and financial support. The VA was on hand to serve the needs of veterans. The administrative record-keeping needed to keep track of victims, volunteers, services, and supplies was immense.

And then there was this:

Funny: I didn’t see anyone there from Black Lives Matter, the Congressional Black Caucus, the Democratic Party, Hollywood libs, or any other social justice warriors out there helping the thousands of black families who had lost everything in the flood.  No one but us heartless Christians, conservatives, and other deplorables.

Because actions speak louder than words, and all the above organizations do is spout empty words and cheap sentiment. We The People know what has to be done when catastrophe comes calling, and we get down and do it. They The Assholes couldn’t be bothered.

So if you now feel like punching a liberal in the face (not a very charitable act, I’ll concede), then go right ahead. I’ll hold your coat.

Should Have Been An A

From the Chateau comes this priceless ambition from a future leader:

(I know the thing is probably fake, but leave me with the illusion, willya?)

Had this young man (? if it was a girl, I’m gonna explode) been several years older, I would have pegged him as a Junior Reader. After all, I believe I once posted this little thought:

I think I’m going to get a few “Pinochet Was Correct” T-shirts printed. Hey, if the Left can do it with that murdering Commie bastard Che Guevara…

Bloody Immigrants

They come to your country, build successful multi-million-dollar companies while still in high school*… as I remarked to Mr. Free Market, he’ll probably end up marrying into the Royal Family.

Most teenagers of his age spend their school lunch breaks playing football or chatting to girls.
But Akshay Ruparelia used every spare moment to sell houses.The young entrepreneur – nicknamed Alan Sugar by his friends – set up an online estate agency while still at sixth form.
The teenager started his business after persuading family members to lend him £7,000 and already employs 12 people.
And his clever business model has been such a hit that his company doorsteps.co.uk has been valued at £12 million in just over a year.
Now aged 19, Akshay has had to put plans of studying economics and management at Oxford University on hold because the firm he set up at school is expanding so rapidly.

I’m curious as to why he’d bother with university at all, seeing as he seems to be doing quite well without the academic drag of “theory” (as opposed to actual, you know, stuff that works in the real world).

Good for him.


*For my Murkin Readers: “sixth form” is the equivalent to an extra year of high school — thirteenth grade, as it were — as a preparatory step towards university. It is one of my deepest regrets that I didn’t stay on for the Sixth myself; my life would have been considerably different had I done so.