Monday, July 30, 2018
We don't pretend to have great theological expertise, but Maxine Waters' recent declaration that she's on a "mission from God" seems to put her squarely in the same category of previous divine tools as plagues of locusts, frogs, flies, lice, and eruptions of large, painful boils which would even make Dr. Pimple Popper lose her lunch.
If we take Maxine at her word about God's purpose for her, it suggests that her entire life until now has been utterly pointless, an idea with which we can't really take issue. Seriously, what has this bitter woman actually accomplished over her long, angry life other than giving blobfish a reason to feel slightly better about their looks?
Considering the latest GDP numbers, it certainly doesn't look like God is out to get Trump. And even if He were, we don't think His known propensity for using "mysterious ways" would explain the overstuffed clown car of goofballs who have been trying (and failing) to drive the President from office.
Perhaps Maxine needs to look a bit deeper into her own soul when it comes to getting guidance from God. Because on the seventh day, even He knew when it was time to give it a rest.
BONUS: IF AT FIRST YOU DON'T SUCK...
We couldn't resist using Maxine's smug mug to address another nail-biting national crisis...
Posted by Stilton Jarlsberg at 12:01 AM 29 comments:
Friday, July 20, 2018
The Democrats are growing in confidence (okay, technically it's arrogance) regarding November's mid-term elections, and it's not surprising. According to allegedly unbiased news outlets, the United States has fallen under Russian control, Trump is stuffing weeping immigrant children into concentration camps, rising employment numbers are a "trick" that voters shouldn't be fooled by, and Western Civilization itself is on the verge of collapse because the President asked NATO members to start actually paying their dues.
Adding to the Democrats' cockiness about a "Blue Wave" coming to the polls is the knowledge that their party has a deep bench of exciting politicians who youthful, energetic voters naturally gravitate to. This would include swinging hipsters with fresh ideas like Nancy Pelosi, Chuck Schumer, Maxine Waters, Joe Biden and more!
So really, the only missing piece of the puzzle heading into the mid-terms was for the Democrats to come up with a really great slogan which would not only encapsulate their broad vision for America's future, but also represent a strong call to action for an energized electorate.
And that slogan is...is..."For the People."
Not only is it more than a little vague, it's more than a little familiar. In fact, the phrase has been stolen outright from a famous quote by a Republican. Specifically Abraham Lincoln who, in his Gettysburg Address, referred to an ideal government "of the people, by the people, and for the people."
That's a damn good phrase as it stands, so why would the Democrats cut anything out of it? And the answer is they have to because they only believe in one third (or less) of what Honest Abe was espousing.
"Of the people" refers to legislators who are ordinary citizens from many walks of life. People bringing their different experiences together to form a miniaturized representation of the country as a whole. People who intend to return to "real life" after political service, rather than choosing to become a permanent part of a ruling class entirely divided from the peons. "Of the people" was never intended to mean lawyers, millionaires, and sleazy power brokers of the kind that populate the Democratic halls of power. So that part of Lincoln's wisdom had to go.
"By the people" refers to the fact that for a representational government to work, those sent to Washington should be chosen by their fellow citizens in honest elections. But "honest elections" are hardly what the Democrats are looking for. Between Hillary buying the DNC in order to sabotage Bernie Sanders, rampant voter fraud, an ideologically corrupt press, and billion-dollar ad campaigns spreading wild and pernicious lies, it becomes clear that the DNC can't trust a government selected "by the people" to be what they want. So another part of Abe's idiom got the axe.
Which leaves only "For the people" - the vaguest part of the triumvirate as it is entirely subjective, and doesn't so much mean that those in Washington are serving the electorate, but rather ruling them for their own benighted good.
Put it all together, and you have a party whose politicians are not representative of the American body as a whole, and who are put into office through questionable methods that try to sidestep the annoying meddling of actual American voters. And all so that those Democrats who do become fixtures in the halls of profit and power can do whatever they believe is best "for" the common people whether it helps those people or not.
So we think the Dems have rather missed the mark with this not-so-catchy "new" slogan, and think that truth in advertising demands they instead use the alternative mentioned by Schumer in today's cartoon: same slogan, different f-word.
NOTE: STILTON'S STAYCATION
|Peace, quiet, and sweet cooling mud|
Assuming that there are no larger-than-usual "end of the world" events next week, we'll be taking time off from Stilton's Place for a little staycation until Monday, July 30.
There's no particular rhyme or reason behind the timing, other than we've got an overabundance of backed up chores to attend to. And what better time to tackle indoor work than late July in Texas, when the grass is smoldering and vultures are actually bursting into flames mid-air? Doing anything in air conditioning is looking pretty sweet right now.
So we'll see you a week from Monday if not before. And as always, we'll be popping into the comments section regularly!
Posted by Stilton Jarlsberg at 12:01 AM 63 comments:
Wednesday, July 18, 2018
Much Ado About Trump Thing
|Sadly, Trump also didn't instigate a nuclear war.|
When alleged journalists lose their minds about Donald Trump and start screaming and foaming at the mouth, STFUman would suddenly appear with his trusty whiffle bat and thonk, thonk, thonk the hysterical newsperson on the noggin until either sanity or blissful unconsciousness was reached.
He would then dart away in a flash, remove his mask, cover his spandex uniform with street clothes, and slip the whiffle bat into his pant leg to make his escape unnoticed. Except for a really lopsided walk.
If he were available, STFUman would have had his hands full over the last couple of days as everyone on the Left and many on the Right lost their ever-loving minds over President Trump's press conference remarks following his one-on-one meeting with Vladimir Putin.
In a nutshell, and we've never used that phrase more appropriately, Donald Trump didn't turn to Putin during the press conference and call him a dirty, lying bastard who overthrew the 2016 Presidential election. Rather, Trump said that our intelligence services (which have been demonstrably dripping with anti-Trump corruption) have claimed there was Russian meddling, while Putin told him behind closed doors that there wasn't Russian meddling.
Trump then had the apparently treasonous gall to suggest that we try to solve this impasse by looking at actual physical evidence, like the allegedly-hacked DNC computer server which neither the FBI nor any other law enforcement agency has ever even looked at.
This entirely reasonable suggestion basically opened the gates of fake news hell. Subsequent stories declared Trump to be a traitor and tool of Putin, and his press conference appearance was likened to Kristallnacht, the Cuban Missile Crisis, 9/11, and the attack on Pearl Harbor. One congressman even tweeted that it was time for the US military to step up to the plate, presumably to stage a coups d'etat to preserve democracy. Because nothing says "freedom" to Leftists quite like martial law and government at gunpoint.
Lost in all of this cacophony is any discussion of what Trump might have actually said to Putin behind closed doors before presenting a pleasant face for the press. For all we know, Trump told Putin that he'd rip the weasel-faced dictator's leg off and beat him senseless with it if there was even suspicion of Russian meddling in the future.
Trump has since offered a predictably confusing "clarification" of his press conference remarks, which strikes us as unnecessary considering that few outlets were reporting on what he actually said versus what they feverishly fantasized.
Frankly, we think this whole media uproar is another exercise in willful lunacy which is far more damaging to our nation than anything Russia could possibly do. We'd say even more, but we've got a lot of sit-ups to do if we're going to fit into that spandex uniform.
Posted by Stilton Jarlsberg at 12:01 AM 37 comments:
Monday, July 16, 2018
|"We won't Barry you."|
The stated fear of those on the Left is that Trump won't have the strength to stand up against Putin, whom they believe to be some sort of mighty warrior commanding the superior economic, technological, and military resources which have made modern day Russia into the White Wakanda. Which ironically has a small element of truth, in that Wakanda is pure fiction, too (but please don't tell this to Progressives - it would break their hearts).
The irony here is that those on the Left seemingly had no problem with Saint Soetoro, just prior to his reelection, whispering (so as not to tip off those pesky American voters) that he would be offering Putin much more "flexibility" (about freaking missile deployment, no less) after the election.
That's the kind of flexibility which is most closely associated with the generous use of KY Jelly, and which was emblematic of Barry's method of "assuming the position" for every "tough guy" state in the world, be it Russia, Iran, North Korea, or a jihadi califate. Not for nothing was his leadership strategy accurately described as "bleeding from behind."
We're also a bit confused by the Left's insistence that Trump can be easily shoved around. Aren't they the ones who've been calling him Hitler since the day he took office?! Say what you will about old Adolf, but he didn't exactly have a reputation for being a pushover in his dealings with Russia or anyone else. But then, those on the Left aren't exactly exalted for their knowledge of history.
Here at Stilton's Place, we're certainly not expecting much positive to come out of the meeting between Trump and Putin, but we're also not expecting to lose anything at all. And after 8 years of Obama, that's still a glorious feeling.
Posted by Stilton Jarlsberg at 12:01 AM 26 comments:
Friday, July 13, 2018
Things got very contentious yesterday as highly-ranked rogue FBI agent (and wife-cheating sexual hound dog) Peter Strzok was questioned by the House Judiciary Committee about the screamingly obvious political bias he brought to two huge investigations.
In Hillary Clinton's email case, he declared her innocent long before completing the investigation or even interviewing her. In the Trump/Russia case, he decided that Trump was guilty and should be impeached before interviewing a single witness.
Put simply, this one high-powered official basically raped the American electoral system and the integrity of the FBI and is now desperately trying to cover his keister.
Not that he didn't have plenty of help during his questioning. No member of the GOP could get out more than a syllable of questioning before some Democrat nitwit would scream "point of order!" or "objection!" or "Whoohee! The jute mill is exploded!" just to stall the proceedings and keep Strzok from admitting his perfidy.
Sadly, there was no divine intervention of the sort shown in today's cartoon, which rather surprises us. After all, even though lightning is an unwieldy instrument of vengeance, we can't imagine that any collateral damage in Strzok's immediate surroundings would have been much of a loss.
Posted by Stilton Jarlsberg at 12:01 AM 39 comments:
Wednesday, July 11, 2018
Seals of Approval
Per the cartoon above, we do expect Brett Kavanaugh to be dragged through Hell and high water before his eventual confirmation as a Supreme Court Justice.
But our real purpose in combining these two stories is to celebrate these two very different but deeply inspiring occurrences. The amazing rescue of a boys soccer team from a nightmarish, water-filled cave renews our hope for mankind in general. Support came from around the world to save these young lives, and the courage and sacrifice of those involved is humbling and awe-inspiring.
We want to make special mention of Sgt. Major Saman Gunan, a 38-year-old retired Thai Navy Seal, who volunteered for the mission and gave his life to save others. He undertook a risk that few others would and, through his efforts, helped enable a miracle.
On a very different note, we found ourselves moved by (a very Presidential) Donald Trump's announcement of Brett Kavanaugh as his nominee for the Supreme Court, and a rundown of this jurist's incredible and accomplished life of service to others.
As far as we can tell, he's an exceptionally good choice for the nation's highest court...and one impossible for the Left and the media to legitimately tar and feather...although those slime-oozing anti-Americans will try their wretched best.
As a case (pun intended) in point, despite Kavanaugh teaching at Harvard (a position for which he was hired by liberal Supreme Court Justice Elena Kagan), despite his volunteering for work in inner city schools, despite his championing of women in the workplace, despite his coaching of his daughters' basketball teams, and despite his regularly serving meals in soup kitchens, Democrat sleaze-weasel Terry McAuliffe has tweeted that "the nomination of Judge Brett Kavanaugh will threaten the lives of millions of Americans." Apparently because somehow in that busy schedule, Kavanaugh still finds time to commit recreational genocide.
In truth (a word which causes Progressives to writhe and smoke like vampires caught in sunlight) Kavanaugh has an exceptionally distinguished record of strict adherence to the Constitution, with his legal opinions completely unsullied by his personal political beliefs.
According to our nation's founders, that's how the Supreme Court is supposed to work, and we look forward to Judge Kavanaugh's service for a long, long time.
Posted by Stilton Jarlsberg at 12:01 AM 31 comments:
Monday, July 9, 2018
Nom Nom Nom
|Plus, he doesn't even speak English.|
Apparently Trump's pick will be rabidly opposed to civil rights, human rights, women's rights, LGBT rights, women's sacred right to puree the unborn, and the right of every human being on Earth to claim asylum and hefty financial support for simply existing in the United States.
In fact, the nominee will - according to all reports - be against civilization and decency in general, and enable Trump to turn the entire planet into a living Hell in which women are enslaved and degraded, and men are forced - under pain of death - to wear ludicrous comb-overs.
Oh sure, there's a small body of thought that Mr. Trump may instead just choose a splendid legal mind who is well-versed in Constitutional law and our nation's founding principles (as he did with his previous pick) but this optimistic view isn't getting a lot of play in the media.
Frankly, we expect to be delighted with Trump's choice no matter who he or she turns out to be. Because after enduring decades of pointless, lying political slogans which had no meaning whatsoever, we now believe that we've got a President whose sole purpose really is to "make America great again.
And we're betting his Supreme Court nominee will prove it.
Then again, he can be unpredictable...
|In fairness, besides being Miss Congeniality she's also Miss Constitutionality!|
Posted by Stilton Jarlsberg at 12:01 AM 29 comments:
Friday, July 6, 2018
I Get No Kick from Sham Pain
|Shaken, not cured.|
|Flailing, flailing, over the bounding main!|
"You're having seizures, but the EEG didn't show anything so it's not epilepsy. Goodbye!"
"Wait, wait! How can that be?"
"Well, you don't have a brain tumor and you don't show unusual EEG activity, so you're just having seizures. Pseudo-seizures, actually. Goodbye!!"
Pseudo-seizures, we've since learned, is an archaic and (theoretically) disused diagnostic term owing to the fact that A) it's inaccurate (it suggests the seizures aren't real - but they are), and B) that it's insulting to the patient...essentially blaming them for having a condition which neurologists don't understand and, therefore, can't make any money out of trying to cure.
The more proper term for what we've got is PNES (which would be a lot funnier if it were pronounced "penis" and we could declare ourself to be the 2018 PNES poster boy). Boringly, it actually stands for Psychogenic Nonepileptic Seizures.
And "Psychogenic" gives you a big hint about how medical science views this unusual and violent phenomenon and its close (albeit still hypothetical) relationship to having an overabundance of night-flying leather-winged mammals in your belfry.
"You might get relief by seeking extensive psychotherapy," the neurologist hinted while hiding all the sharp objects in the exam room.
"Try relaxing more," she said while backing towards the door. "Listen to music. Learn to paint. Take up gardening!"
You know, pretty much the same advice they gave Lou Gehrig before things went south on him.
Before we could ask another question, our neurologist had fled the room with enough speed you'd think we'd actually flashed our PNES at her.
Fortunately, the intensity of our nightly seizure activity tends to run in cycles, and we're currently enjoying a nice run of some pretty calm nights (anything less than 10 seizures is considered a wobbly walk in the park). Our days are somewhat less calm, because that's when we discover atrocities like the $8,500 bill for questionable services leading to a non-diagnosis.
Theoretically, Medicare will rip that money from the hands of my fellow taxpayers (thanks, guys and gals!) but it's another example of how getting the government involved causes prices to skyrocket WAY beyond what market forces would have charged for all this. Seriously, we could BUY the damn miniature EEG machine and wear it 24/7 for the rest of our life for less than what they're charging for a 2-day rental!
And don't tell us that we wouldn't be able to read the results. Ha! Following our brain scan when all this started, we couldn't get a straight answer out of anybody about what the results showed, so we went to Fiverr.com and hired a radiologist in Chile to review our scans (actual price, $35 including a $10 "rush fee.") He assured us that we had no brain tumors, lesions, or aneurysms, and just a little bit of brain atrophy "which is about normal for someone of your age." Especially if they lived through 8 freaking years of Obama.
Anyway, the good news is that this may all just go away on its own (there's genuinely no need for anyone to worry) and it's unlikely to do any damage other than disrupting some sleep. To that end, we just placed an Amazon order for a 25-pound weighted blanket which is said to not only help keep people calm, but also helps keep arms and legs from escaping their confines at night, sneaking out the window, and joining violent street gangs.
Additionally, we will be redoubling our stress-fighting activities, increasing both our daily meditation sessions ("Think of a calm and relaxing place. A long and sandy beach. You hear only the rush of waves, the cry of a seagull, and the occasional "melp! melp!" from the progressives buried several feet under the warm, nurturing sands..."). We'll also be doubling our intake of Clan MacGregor scotch, which could easily cost us an additional $7.50 a week.
Unhappily, the doctor's order to reduce stress also means that we must sadly withdraw our name from further review for President Trump's Supreme Court nomination. But it was an honor and delusion just to be considered.
It's time for PNES sufferers to come out of the closets!
BONUS: SUPPORT THE CAUSE & OFFEND EVERYONE!
Because we're certifiably not right in the head, we just made this handsome t-shirt available on our Amazon store. Sure to fill your days with exciting and passionately confused comments from complete strangers!
Posted by Stilton Jarlsberg at 12:01 AM 59 comments:
Wednesday, July 4, 2018
Oh Say, Can You See? / 4th of July
Posted by Stilton Jarlsberg at 12:01 AM 28 comments:
Monday, July 2, 2018
Strident progressive morons (but we repeat ourselves) took to the streets yet again this weekend to demand the abolishment of ICE. Not the kind that tinkles merrily in our glass of scotch when reflecting on current events, but rather the entire US Immigration & Customs Enforcement agency.
The protesters (and their noisy numbers include innumerable celebrities and alleged journalists) have declared that ICE is alternately the Gestapo, a terrorist organization, or the most heinous kidnappers since Bruno Hauptmann snatched the Lindbergh baby.
Technically, none of those things is really part of ICE's charter. So just what is it that these vicious rat bastards actually do?
They direct investigations for the Department of Homeland Security, which seems like a pretty good thing. They help protect national security, which we're in favor of, and they fight transnational gangs - which should please everyone except MS-13 lovers like Nancy Pelosi.
ICE agents are on the often dangerous front lines of fighting the drug trafficking that is ravaging our nation, as well as fighting arms trafficking - which you'd think would have the anti-gun Left doing backflips of gratitude.
Part of ICE's job in the 21st century is addressing cyber crimes, which would seem to benefit every selfie-snapping protester who owns a smartphone. And also on ICE's busy schedule is the war on a much older affront to civilization: child exploitation and human trafficking.
We have to admit that all of those things sound so critically important that we'd hate to see them all be thrown away for nothing. So just what is the tremendous benefit the Left thinks we'd gain by getting rid of ICE?
No more immigration enforcement! Open borders! An unending flood of people wanting benefits which will help force our nation into socialism! Yippee!
In other words, the chanting nimrods in the streets want us to stop fighting terror, allow a free flow of drugs and weapons into the country, and allow women and children to be used as sex slaves, in return for which our nation's borders will essentially cease to exist. And they want this for one very simple reason: they're idiots.
Oh, we suppose "hating Trump" could be considered reason number two, but since the policies the protesters are freaking out about were also those of Saint Obama, we're just going to stick with the "idiots" explanation. It's a fine example of Occam's razor (and as the old saying goes, "Occam if they can't take a joke.")
Frankly, we hope all the ICE protesters exhausted themselves marching and shouting over the weekend. That way, when they're back in their parents' basements nursing their emotional wounds for a few days, the streets will be clear for actual Americans to enjoy their 4th of July parades.
Posted by Stilton Jarlsberg at 12:01 AM 30 comments:
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