We're frankly enjoying the agonized screams of outrage from the Left over President Trump's pardoning of former sheriff Joe Arpaio for committing blatant, willful acts of law enforcement. The rabid media coverage of this non-event is both terrifying and ludicrous - in other words, entirely predictable.
The Washington Post's piece is headlined "What Authoritarianism Experts Think (of Trump's Pardon)," making us wonder who the hell "authoritarianism experts" even are, and what kind of reportage starts with seeking them out for opinions.
Or consider Slate.com's article "Trump's Pardon of Joe Arpaio Is an Impeachable Offense," which relies rather heavily on the hope that readers will only look at the headline, and not the actual story which rapidly falls apart.
It hilariously starts with this absolutely meaningless generalization: "Donald Trump has done many things that, once fully investigated, may prove to be impeachable offenses. We don't yet know all the facts, so final judgment on most of Trump's actions will have to wait." Wow, we wish we had $10 for every vagary and weasel-word in that statement!
They then dive into the meat of the article: a law professor's theory that the pardon could be an impeachable offense (not "is" as the headline declared), adding that even the law professor "admits that this is a novel theory and, with respect, it simply won't fly." Well that's an interesting nugget to bury in the fine print.
Current estimates are that 11 trillion gallons of rain will fall on Texas because of hurricane Harvey. As nightmarish as this is (and please keep the victims in your thoughts), it's still less than the amount of BS our country is inundated with on a daily basis.
UPDATE: REMODEL PRISONER
|"You may notice a slight odor from the paint for awhile."
Our contractor also informed us, with great solemnity, that our home is afflicted - perhaps terminally - with three distinctly different textures on the walls. We apparently have "crow's feet" (a trashy 70's look), "trowel wipes" (which means it looks like diarrhea-afflicted trolls smeared their butts on the wall), and a tiny, blessed bit of "orange peel" (which we're assured is "fashion, not fad!") to redeem us with any blind visitors who use braille to judge our walls and overall worth as human beings. Fortunately, it's not too late to turn all of the textures into "orange peel" by forcefully throwing money at our walls and ceilings. Wow - dodged a bullet on that one!
Mind you, the work on the house has only just begun. One of the next steps will be laying wood-look porcelain tiles pretty much everywhere. So far, this has involved moving all of the furniture from half of the house into the other half of the house, making individual rooms look like we're barricading the windows and doors with our belongings to keep zombies out. In the newly-cleared areas, expensive miracle plastic is being bonded to our concrete foundation to control a longstanding moisture incursion problem we've had because our house was mistakenly built over an ancient Indian sweat lodge.
So today (Monday) the tiles start going down on top of that plastic, but - surprise! - there's a little wrinkle there, too. In order to create the natural look of wood, there is considerable variation between the tiles. Most are fine, but in every box of 20 tiles, there are 3 or 4 repeating patterns which need to be pulled out before they are permanently glued where our non-blind guests can see them. And guess whose job it is to stand in a hot Texas garage, tear open the filthy boxes, and sort all 2000 or so tiles one by one before the tile guys need them?
The offending tiles, by the way, have become quite recognizable as they come out of the box. One is basically half-black ("The Barack"), one has a disturbing pattern of concentric whirls ("The Twilight Zone"), and another is The One With Two Highly Noticeable Black Dots Which Will Drive Us Crazy When We Spot Them All Over The Floor ("The OCD").
|Even looking at this picture, we're getting the willies
|Penny, The Heartbroken Dog Who Lost Everything (soon to be a very sad children's book)