Tag: Regrettable Acts

Nazzo Fast, Guido (Part 3)

Foreign Affairs, Military, Trumpism

The problem with Sen. Rand Paul (R-Ky) is that he’s a firm believer in this Constitution Nostra.  In a way, he’s like the Constitution Goblin that sits on our shoulder whispering, “Show me where in the Constitution it says you can do that”.

As he does now.

Sen. Rand Paul (R-KY) claimed President Donald Trump’s military strikes against suspected drug boats were not legal.

Host Kristen Welker said, “President Trump has authorized military strikes against suspected drug boats in the Caribbean, as you know, so far more than 20 people, senator, have been killed in six different strikes. Do you believe that these strikes against these suspected drug boats are legal?”

Paul said, “No, they go against all of our tradition. When you kill someone if you’re not in war, and not in a declared war you really need to know someone’s name, at least. You have to accuse them of something and you have to present evidence. All of these people have been blown up without us knowing their name and without evidence of a crime. For decades and if not centuries when you stop people at sea in international waters or in your own waters you announce that you’re going to board the ship and you’re looking for contraband, smuggling or drugs. This happens every day off of Miami, but we know from Coast Guard statistics that about 25% of the time the Coast Guard boards a ship there are no drugs. So if our policy now is to blow up every ship we suspect or accuse of drug running, that would be a bizarre world in which 25% of the people might be innocent.”

And I agree with him.

In the first place, these are not Venezuelan Navy ships that our boys are sending off to that Big Drydock In The Sky;  they’re privately-owned.  And yes, they may have been sponsored by that godless Commie VenPres Maduro, but we don’t really know that, do we?

Me, I’d rather have the Navy board a ship when intercepted, and if they find evidence of drugs — like, sacks of cocaine powder in the hold — they should thank the ship’s crew politely, get off the ship… and then blow it the shit out of the water.

I don’t agree with this part of ol’ Rand’s little diatribe, though:

“The other thing about these speed boats is they’re 2,000 miles away from us. If they have drugs they’re probably peddling drugs to one of the islands of Trinidad or Tobago off Venezuela.”

Don’t care where the destination of the drugs may be:  la coca  is illegal in pretty much every country on earth — oh, and by the way, just because the drugs may be headed for Trinidad or Tobago, that doesn’t mean that those islands are their final destination:  they might just be a stop over, en route to the U.S. (and probably are, being just part of the distribution network).

I also suspect that the “25%” of the time statistic is because the drug runners see the USN or USCG ships coming, and dump the contraband overboard — which is fine because whatever, the drugs aren’t going to reach their destination.

I know why The Donald is doing this:  it’s to create a negative incentive for drug smuggling, a way to persuade these assholes to find another way to earn a living.  It might work;  but it’s not legal.

And we’re not (yet) at war with Venezuela, last time I looked, and given the craven nature of Congress as it stands right now, I doubt very much whether they’d give the go-ahead to nuke Caracas, tempting though that prospect might be.

It’s a tough problem, but I’m not sure that bombing ships out in the middle of the ocean is the correct one.  Rand Paul doesn’t;  and I think in this case, he has the right of it.

I am prepared to hear opinions to the contrary, of course.

No Such Thing, Blondie

Government Thugs, Rights

Nobody but nobody can step on their own dick quicker than a Republican.  In this particular instance, metaphorically speaking, it was Attorney-General Pam Bondi who came out with this bullshit:

Speaking with the Trump administration Deputy Chief of Staff for Policy and Homeland Security Advisor Stephen Miller’s wife, Katie Miller, yesterday, Attorney General Pam Bondi decried “hate speech” and vowed to “target anyone with hate speech.”

“There’s free speech and then there’s hate speech,” Bondi explained.

To quote the memorable line from the late Robert Redford’s movie The Sting:  “Try not to live up to all my expectations of you.”

One more time, with feeling:  There’s no such thing as “hate speech” — from a legal perspective.

In other words, I may say that Rep. Ilhan Omar (Communist-MN) is a foul pustule who should be whipped in the public square once per week — which I admit frankly is hateful speech, because I loathe the African-born bitch with a passion.  But if some federal badgeholder tries to arrest me for saying that, there will be gunfire.  Because what I said about the dreadful Omar is my opinion, and therefore protected by the First Amendment.

Now, if I say, “I’m going to murder that bitch Omar with my home-made bazooka next Tuesday” — yeah, that’s a threat and you’re not only welcome to come after me, you have to do so.

But “hate speech”?  Fuck that for a bowl of cherries.

Bloody hell, it just goes to show that no matter which party’s wearing the high-heeled jackboots, the outcome is always the same:  our rights get trampled.

Update:  I see that AG Blondie has been trying to “clarify” her statement.  Not buying it.  Fuck off, Pam.  Go after the real criminals — and if you don’t know who they are after all this time, GTFO and let someone better to come in and do your job.

From Comfortable Heritage To Modern Banal

Corporate Wokism, Marketing / Advertising

We’ve all seen how modernist logo design has turned the proud familiar into simplistic trash:

…and of the recent Cracker Barrel rebrand we will not speak, as they’ve been forced into a U-turn.

Now if one thinks of modernistic Philistines and Wokery Gone Mad in the civic sense, it’s hard to imagine a better example than that “blueberry in a bowl of tomato soup”, Austin TX.  Who have “progressed” from a traditional city seal to… well, a 1970s-era representation of a homeless person’s tent shelter:

Bloody hell.  It’s an encapsulation of everything that’s wrong with the Left:  ahistorical, simplistic and ugly.

Silliness

Anti-Gun Nannies, Psychos

Here’s one that made me send an extra couple mags’ worth of ammo downrange yesterday:

President Trump has again threatened to take away Rosie O’Donnell’s citizenship, as she has moved to Ireland and is in the process of obtaining Irish citizenship to become a dual citizen.

“As previously mentioned, we are giving serious thought to taking away Rosie O’Donnell’s Citizenship. She is not a Great American and is, in my opinion, incapable of being so!” Trump posted.

And to think I once ridiculed Jimmeh Carter for getting involved in such minutiae as deciding White House parking privileges…

Dear POTUS:  why the fuck are you bothering with this kind of silliness?  Has the DOGE finished its job?  Have you done with Putin?  Are you going to make the Brits pay dearly for their anti-free speech activities?  Have you even started to address the dire state of the national debt, not to mention next year’s budget?  [200 more Presidential / CEO-type high-level issues deleted, for reasons of space]

Stop pissing around with the small stuff, and get serious about the important stuff.

And speaking of stupid shit… this one’s for AG Pam Blondie.

One of the several things that upsets me about the MAGA-Trump Administration is how they can forget that sometimes governmental action not only doesn’t work, but has been proven not to work in the past.  Take this next bit of foolishness, for example:

The Department of Justice is actively exploring a ban on gun possession for transgender individuals in the wake of a mass shooting at a Catholic school by a transgender gunman, Breitbart News reported, citing “multiple sources familiar with the matter.”

The Office of Legal Council has reportedly organized multiple meetings to explore the possibility of denying transgender people access to firearms on grounds of mental illness.

Sigh.

Just a little reminder:  gun bans don’t fucking work.  (If they did, there would be zero gun-related deaths and crimes in Britishland, to take but one example.)  Not only do they not work, but the cost of policing such bans is astronomical.

And just who, pray tell, is going to be the arbiter of “mental illness”?  You? A panel of “experts”?  The local school’s PTA?

Stop wasting your time with “multiple meetings” (because they too don’t work, and waste time withal).

Here’s something that has a far higher chance of success:

Order that all public schools maintain an armed and trained security force on the premises.

What we know for a fact is that even the psychos shy away from playing their little reindeer games when there’s a good chance they’ll be shot dead right before they take aim at someone, or right after they’ve fired their first shot / stabbed their first victim.  (Feel free to check the stats on this:  it will be a far better use of time than these multiple meetings, for starters.)

And to force the gun-fearing wussy school administrators (e.g. in California, New York and Illinois) to comply, make all federal funding dependent on the installation thereof.  (I mean, the Education Department exists for just such a reason, as opposed to promoting the ghastly LGBTOSTFU agenda in said schools with taxpayer money.)

But no, by all means go with what doesn’t work.  If nothing else, it will prove that government, whether conservative, MAGA or Screaming Commies, doesn’t have a fucking clue.

Not that we ever needed such proof.

Pedro

Travels

Back in 2004, one of our training trips took us to Chile.  We’d just come back from two weeks in Germany/Austria, and only a few days later saw us in the skies again, this time towards South America.  None of us had ever been there before, so we looked forward to the chance keenly.

Santiago was nice, but the job kept us very busy, and I was only able to spend one day downtown with the kids, but whatever — we loved it and all said they’d be happy to return someday.

Then we added on a few days in Viña Del Mar, just over the river from Valparaiso, and that place we really loved.

Climate-wise, we were just heading into winter — May in the southern hemisphere — but that meant only light coats and sweaters, so we set about exploring Viña on foot.

What a lovely place.

One of the things we noticed about Viña was the plethora of stray dogs.  Coming from the Land Of The Free (and most recently from Yurp) where all dogs are on leashes or indoors, this was a strange sight.  There were scores, maybe even hundreds of dogs wandering about in the streets, some in groups/packs, others on their own.  None of them gave any sign of being dangerous, so we just did what everyone else in Viña did, and ignored them.

On our third day there, however, one dog attached himself to us.  He was a tan puppy of (duh) indiscriminate ancestry, and he trotted along with our little group, stopping when we stopped to window-shop or take pictures, then resuming the trip when we started walking again.

He was as cute as hell, and the kids named him Pedro.  They would have petted him, except that Dad threatened them with death if they did so, because I sure as hell was not going to deal with the inevitable flea infestation that ensued.

After while, he would dart ahead of us towards the next street corner.  The first time caused us a little panic because we thought he would run out into the street and get run over by a car, but Pedro was streetwise:  he’d stop and sit at the edge of the sidewalk, glancing back over his shoulder, waiting for us to catch up.  Then he’d walk across the street with us, his street smarts obviously telling him that he’d be safe with us.

Anyway, we got to the street that ran along the beach, and eventually we came upon a fishing pier that stuck out into the bay.  Halfway along the pier was a hamburger stand and a long queue of people waiting to get served.  (I know, Third World street food is muy peligroso, but the number of people reassured us.)  So we got our burgers, and good grief they were among the best burgers we’d ever eaten, anywhere in the world (not to mention costing us only about 75c each).  It was also the first time I’d encountered fresh avocado used as a spread on a hamburger bun… delicious.

So of course I had to get a burger for Pedro.  What astonished all of us was that he didn’t snatch the food away, but took it gently from my hand and then lay under our table to eat it.  He didn’t gulp it all down either, but ate it like a human:  tearing off mouthfuls one at a time, eating slowly — much slower than my ravenous kids, come to think of it — and when I tossed him a few of the thick, wonderful fries, he ate them in similar fashion.

Anyway, we made our way back to the hotel, but Pedro got a shock because when he tried to follow us in the entrance, the doorman shooed him away, gently but firmly.

I will never forget the look of disappointment and sorrow on Pedro’s face.

He wasn’t waiting for us outside when we went out the next day, and as we walked around, we all kept looking for him, but he’d vanished;  and every one of us was devastated.

The day after that we got in the car and drove up the coast.  I’m pretty sure that had Pedro showed up and asked, we would have welcomed him, fleas and all, into the car for the trip.

We never saw him again.