Seen at Kenny’s:
Would be a lot more fun to watch if they did that shit in Austin, TX during the month of July. You could make a fortune renting out deck chairs.
Just sayin’.
Tag: Stupid people
Papieren, Bitte
…or however they say it in French. This story made me howl with laughter, although I still think the paras should just have turned their little Fairburn-Sykes stickers on the bureaucrats.
If they’re still allowed to carry them, that is.
I see that the above is actually a replica, the FOX Fairbairn-Sykes FX-5934. I love Fox knives, already have their 685 bush knife, and now I want this one really badly.
If anybody else is interested (and who wouldn’t be?) it’s apparently on sale here (as above) and here (in “tactical” black).
“Come See The Violence
…inherent in the system!” is Eric Idle’s iconic wail in the Monty Python And The Holy Grail movie, when King Arthur finally loses his patience and pushes the mouthy peasant to the ground. Funny as hell.
And then we have this:
Enoch Burke has been at the centre of a trans right row in Ireland for over two years now – but he’s not the only member of his family facing endless legal woes.
In May 2022, the former history teacher told the headteacher at his school in County Westmeath that his Evangelical Christian beliefs meant he ‘opposed transgenderism’ and later criticised his boss’ ‘demand’ to use the child’s new name in front of staff and students.
It sparked a chain of events that has led to him being jailed for repeatedly showing up at Wilson’s Hospital School in County Westmeath after being sacked, and entering the staff room saying he was there to do his job.
Enoch has spent over 300 days in Mountjoy Prison in Dublin and has no prospect of release because he refuses to comply with a court order to stay away from the school premises. Earlier this year, he refused a High Court offer to spend Easter out of prison and accused the judge of colluding with the school.
Earlier this week, Enoch’s sister Ammi lost an unlawful dismissal appeal at the Court of Appeal and was criticised for her ‘utterly appalling and egregious’ behaviour during proceedings.
In May this year, Ms Burke was also found guilty of obstructing a garda during a ‘commotion’ on 7th March last year at the Four Courts.
During the incident, her father ‘flung’ a female garda to the ground behaving ‘like a red rag to a bull’ after his wife was escorted out of court.
Mind you, it should be said that the entire family in question seems to be a bunch of raving nutcases (although this is not too uncommon in Ireland), but note how the whole thing has snowballed into some serious shit, all from something completely innocuous: because a man refused to use someone’s “proper” name.
That’s almost as bad as calling an anarcho-syndicalist a “bloody peasant”.
Modus Operandi, or S.O.P.
From Steve Kruiser:
Attorney General Merrick Garland spent some time Capitol Hill on Tuesday, sparring with Republicans who, once again, were expressing their extreme displeasure with the way he does business but not really doing anything about it.
Yeah well, “expressing extreme displeasure but not really doing anything about it” are the actual lyrics from the Battle Hymn Of The Republic[an Party].
Put another way: the Democrat Socialists are driving the country towards the precipice, while the Republicans are timidly asking them to please apply the brakes now and again, but not too hard.
Useless bunch of eunuchs.
S.O.P. — Standard Operating Procedure. Or Stupid Old Party. Take your pick.
The Usual Whine, No Cheese
Oh, the trials and tribulations (not to mention lamentations) of living in a peaceful village in Britishland.
You see, out in the country there’s this pretty little place which all the local inhabitants dislike because it’s owned by a parvenu couple, the Horners; to be specific, multimillionaire Red Bull Racing boss Christian and his equally-wealthy wife Geri (a.k.a. Ginger Spice of 1990s pop sensation Spice Girls).
This would be bad enough, but the Horners do not appear to Know Their Place, and have a desire to build a swimming pool on their property — said property consists of more than a few acres of land, by the way, and includes a stable for their half-dozen horses. (Okay, it’s a second pool, but apparently the existing indoor one is unsatisfactory because it’s too small and too far from the house. Whatever.)
Here are some of the comments from the Local Yokels:
“Now we’re going to have to put up with months and months of noisy building work, then years of having to listen to the Horners and their friends partying day and night round the pool in the back garden.”
You have to wonder why it would take “months and months” just to install a swimming pool, but that’s probably a feature of the famed British work ethic and/or efficiency, not to mention the need for repeated (and endless) sign-offs from the village nabobs which slow the whole process to a crawl anyway. Hardly the fault of the Horners, though.
“A second swimming pool? It’s downright greedy, isn’t it? They surely can’t need two swimming pools. Most people would settle for one, if they could.”
Yes of course we have a right to tell other people how to spend their money and what they should and shouldn’t own. The Horners also own four cars in a two-driver household; I’m surprised nobody’s moaned about that, yet.
“The church is only a few metres from their house and if a pool party is in full swing on a Sunday, how are we going to hear the service? I guess from now on, the vicar’s going to have to project his voice a few decibels louder.”
…for those dozen or so people who actually attend Sunday services. And by the way, that’s a stinking lie. The church is nearly a quarter of a mile from the house, as Horner pointed out in his permit application.
“I’ve heard this ruddy pool comes with a heat pump too, so that’s going to make a hell of racket.”
Maybe Victorian-era heat pumps were noisy, but modern ones are silent, as I noted when I was staying on Mr. Free Market’s country estate with its enormous, and heated pool. And given the renowned British climate, it makes perfect sense to heat the pool water so that they can actually swim in the thing for more than two non-consecutive weeks of the year.
“They haven’t really integrated themselves in the village. We barely see them and when we do, they are very aloof in their manner. I’ve no time for either of them.”
Perhaps their non-involvement in village affairs is because the locals are a bunch of insular wealth-envious assholes, or maybe it’s because Mr. Horner is busy running a successful Formula 1 racing team for eleven months of the year while Mrs. Horner is performing all over the world with her band.
I mean, my dear! These money-grubbing chavs are just Not Our Kind. Far better to live in genteel poverty, of course.
I know that in the past I’ve often ranted about rich assholes fucking up a neighborhood just because they think they can. And if the Horners were wanting to demolish their exquisite old country house to erect some Modernist concrete cube, I’d be on the side of the village idiots.
But a swimming pool?
“This is a beautiful village, loved for its peace and serenity. This swimming pool development goes against those values. I’m very disappointed and I urge the Horners to reconsider their plans.”
And I urge the Horners to tell these petty little people to go and fuck themselves.
Avoiding That Inconvenient History Stuff
The Catholic sent me this example of people with a chronic case of cranial-rectal insertion:
The heroics of HMS Black Joke, a Royal Navy clipper that waged a fearless five-year war to put an end to the slave trade, are worthy of a Hollywood action movie.
She was once a slave ship herself, sailing under the Brazilian flag and known as the Henriqueta. But when the British captured her in 1827, this brave little vessel was transformed into the scourge of mercenary slavers who traded in human beings.
Her crew took unimaginable risks to hunt down Spanish and Portuguese ships and free the men, women and children crammed below decks in conditions of horrific misery.
Read the whole thing, and then its dolorous conclusion.
I would suggest a public whipping for the entire group of decision-makers, just to give them a taste of what HMS Black Joke saved so many people from.
That, or just a simple hanging for the lot of them.
But no doubt that would make me a violent racist hater, or something.
