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How old am I? I can clearly remember a time when we were taught that all life was sacred, every person mattered and that the painful decisions of life and death were left to those afflicted, grieving families, their doctors and whatever faith leaders they sought comfort from. When did this all change? When did we become so calloused, so cold, so detached from the plight of others that we could allow a faceless state to be the ultimate arbiter of the time, location and manner of our passing? And how do they determine what dignity, our dignity, actually means at the time of our death?

Is there dignity in hope?

I have no idea what “mitochondrial DNA depletion syndrome” is. I really don’t much care to know. No one should be forced to know; least of all a ten-month old infant. But the UK government, in its infinite wisdom and compassion, has decided that the parents of little Charlie Gard have forty-eight hours to convince them that he is worth saving; that he has some chance, a realistic chance, or they, the benevolent state, will forcibly end his life. And don’t get confused over my wording here; they aren’t going to hold the little boy down and smother him. Although, it certainly appears as though they could if they wanted to, being all powerful and righteous and stuff like that. No, they’ll physically restrain his parents as the young boy is allowed to die; how? Slowly wither away? Will they flip some magical switch and instantly end all his pain and suffering, and that of his parents? Not at home, not in the arms of his mother or father? Let’s get some clarity here. Just how does the state intend to offer this child a death with “dignity?”

Let’s face it, we’ve come a long way as a civilization in the fifty years or so that I’ve cast my shadow on this planet. We’ve been treated to break-through after break though in medicine, although there are far too many scourges we’ve yet to conquer. And because of that reality, we’ve also grown intellectually; or so we think. No, we’ve had our brushes with eugenics along the way. Thought we’d put that ugly chapter to bed, didn’t we? But what is this if not a branch of that, the next logical extension of “for the good of all.” And don’t be confused here, for what else is the rationale behind denying a child and his parents an opportunity, a hope no matter how slim, to prolong the life of a child? What harm could there be in letting a grieving, desperate parent fly to some willing medical center that is offering a chance; without any expense to the citizenry or the state at all? What is at stake here? Simple; power. The power to decide which groups deserve to live, which don’t. A power thinly disguised by the state as compassion, acting in the best interest of the child as if the parents were flying him to some dark, remote location to perform untold medical experiments upon him. No, we can’t take that chance. Let’s kill him now.

Power. A power that the state has taken great pains to cultivate and one they would rather not give up. What group of unfortunates will be next? How about those with advanced cancer? Should the state decide at some point, sorry, your medical support is done? No chance for you, no matter how slim. We have determined that and we know what’s best for you. Alarmist? Hardly. What convincing argument does the state have to sentence this child to a certain death when there are others, doctors in other parts of the world possibly, who offer hope. Not a guarantee, but hope. And at no cost to them. Because at the end of it all, that’s all medicine can ever offer us is hope. No guarantees. Deciding to withhold services is one thing; forbidding someone from getting them elsewhere, even for a glimmer of that hope is nothing short of euthanasia. The “group” here is those determined by the state to be “hopeless;” hopeless, because the state is all about destroying the concept of hope. Hope leads to people taking back power from the state. And it won’t be long before other groups will be “hopeless” for some reason or another. Soon it will be age; or ability to produce for the state coffers.

So, as I watch the papers and read blogs and comments, I see a number of people expressing concern and dismay; let the child go somewhere, anywhere, while there is still hope. But I am troubled by the rather large numbers of those who are expressing disdain for the parents; they need to let go, they’re making the child suffer needlessly. I’ve even seen them called selfish for holding out hope where the commenter has determined there is none.  But only those who are truly hopeless themselves never see hope. And I doubt like hell that the parents want to see this child suffer. And of course, there are those who are begging the parents to let the poor child die with dignity, a phrase already used by the state. Odd juxtaposition; if the child wanted to mutilate themselves, we’d be cheering the parents for tolerance and understanding. And just twelve months ago, it would have been perfectly acceptable to tear this child limb from limb, without any concern for whether he felt pain, only to be sucked out of the womb by a tube so his parts could be sold to the highest bidder. What type of dignity is that? This is where we’ve traveled. To this point; where a parent, struggling to save the life of an infant is given forty-eight hours to prove beyond doubt that he can be saved, but waiting forty-eight hours before deciding to tear him from the womb is unacceptable.

No, this is all about the ultimate power of the state; and the right we have given them to determine for ourselves and for those we love, to dictate the reason, the manner and the time of our death; and the definition of our final dignity at the end of our lives.

 

 


Barbie’s dream house. Yup, it used to annoy my brothers and me that Barbie had the dream house while GI Joe had to make due with a flimsy little camouflage pup tent which was so short that his army-issued plastic black boots protruded from the tent opening. One would think that the defender of Ms. Barbie might have had somewhat better accommodations but hey, at least he had the jeep and that wicked awesome “Kung Fu Grip,” which would probably be a micro-aggression of “cultural appropriation” by today’s standards. But Barbie was a trailblazer, able to do or be anything she wanted; Joe on the other hand, was a primitive, a Neanderthal fueled by nothing more than the rape-filled fantasies of young boys who couldn’t focus in class and had to be drugged out of any semblance of “snips and snails, and puppy dog tails,” lest they show any impulse for behavior that wasn’t quite “Sugar and Spice.”

For Sale; hardly used. Owner can no longer drive. Ask for Ken.

Yes, but in today’s world, Barbie is super progressive; She’s even willing to show her culturally acceptable submissiveness by wearing her fashion-forward Hijab. Yay Barbie! She gets to celebrate her independence by donning the symbol of women who are oppressed the world over. Oh my, but how racist of me. After all, the creator of the “Barjab” just wants little girls to be more accepting of Muslims; getting them acclimated to the concept that they too can choose to be both chattel and a surgeon; talk about having it all. Just Like Barbie! But, let’s not tell these malleable young ladies that in many parts of the world, Barbie would have her ass stoned if she left the dream house without her “Barjab,” let alone venturing outside without the permission and escort of good ‘ole Ken. Never mind taking a spin in Barbie’s iconic pink corvette; Muslim Barbie can’t drive. Does the “Barjab” come with plastic stones in case Barbie should remove her progressive, culturally approved headwear outside the dream house? Maybe make it a little more realist and include removable female genitalia; let’s get these young girls ready for the type of culture they are being taught to emulate and support over the horrific culture of the west. After all, wouldn’t the “Barjab” clash with the Pink Pussy hat of feminism? One would think so. What would Ken think of such a culture? It’d be hard to tell. Quite possibly, he’s too busy trying to decide which bathroom in the dream house he identifies with. Careful Ken, in many places around the world, you’d get tossed off the top of the dream house for that.

The dichotomy is astounding; alarming really. Women running around the freest nations of the world wearing pink, knit pussy hats, decrying the fact that someone doesn’t wish to pay for their abortions. One would think, given the lectures of how all-powerful their vagina’s are, that owners of the super, all-powerful western vaginas would be somewhat sympathetic to women trapped in cultures where wearing the very dashing pink pussy hats of sisterdom would lead to disciplines and punishments not seen here. You know, those places where the very last complaint a woman has is that some mean, old white guy refuses to pay for her abortion. In any case, one would think that the magical vagina would be able to spring for it’s own maintenance. One would be wrong.

Interesting really, how liberalism is succeeding to destroy the very culture that allows it to flourish. And it’s not just here. It’s seen in the rape capitals of Europe where women are strongly encouraged to dress modestly so as not to offend the sensibilities of those they invited into their midst. And beyond modesty, they’re touting the wonderful Hijab as a way to thwart the evils of Islamophobia, that state that exists in one’s mind when examples of Muslim atrocities makes one question the outcomes of liberal orthodoxy. Of course, if they can’t convince you with wonderful images and videos or Barbie sized Hijabs, they’ll always fall back on the “racist-bigot” shout down they’re so fond of. Fond of because for some strange reason, people are willing to be submissive and even victimized, as long as you don’t call them names. Go figure.

Liberalism seeks to define every culture as unique and “just fine and dandy” in it’s own way. Except Western culture. Western culture on the other hand, has much to answer for. And, Liberalism seeks to destroy it and replace it with romantic visions of third world-ers, coming to the west to bring wonderful attributes, experiences and enlightenment. Never mind asking why these people would leave their utopias to come to the hated west in the first place; that question is in itself racist and could get you banned from twitter and Facebook. Heck, it may even be a hate crime in many countries (looking at you Canada…) Of course, once they get here, they enter illegally, demand we acculturate to them, burn our flags, ask for handouts and call us racist.

Are all cultures really equal? Are some superior, some inferior? Oh my, there goes my twitter account. No, they are not equal. And no matter what you call me, no matter how loudly you yell and scream in my face, retreat to your safe zone or threaten me with hate speech laws, the fact remains that they are not equal. Hence, the influx to the west. And is western culture perfect? Of course not. But here, you can put a baker out of business because he didn’t want to put two grooms on your friggin’ cake; can sue the school system because you felt like showering with the girls today or; kill someone, then go to prison and get three squares, cable and a sex change operation. Yup, we really suck. Yet, they’re still dying to get here. And we’re dying once they make it.

And it’s not the least bit disturbing to the left that the safety of the citizens of the west is in jeopardy; on the contrary, those crimes are mere inconveniences and to mention them or highlight them makes one suspect. How dare you victimize your aggressors? Often the stories will be downplayed or outright hidden if possible. I stumbled across the rape of a fourteen year-old in Maryland while perusing the London papers for crying out loud; it wasn’t until days later that it finally broke nationally. Well, you know, you have to break a few eggs… The shame here is that the eggs are usually defenseless citizens, standing in the crowd at a marathon, guarding the parliament building or walking the hallway of a high school in Maryland.

What can one expect from the left in this country anyway? They scream about rape culture, put on their pussy hats and disparage every man who crosses their path. But wait; the victim in Maryland may be no more believable than the stripper in the Duke Lacrosse case, according to the lawyer for the accused. No, this rape doesn’t quite work to their advantage. Of course, they’re now claiming it was consensual sex; a minor girl under the age of consent; with two boys; in the boys’ bathroom; and her screaming the whole time. I was quite sure that the ladies in the pink hats would have come out and said that it was rape pure and simple. I was mistaken; but you can understand my confusion. The left still supports a man who drugged a fourteen year-old girl so he could penetrate her anally. But that was okay, because that wasn’t rape-rape. Whatever transpired in that bathroom in a Maryland High School between two young men and a screaming fourteen year-old girl can’t be rape because it involved two people who occupy a cultural position more valuable to the left than “young western female.” They are of the vaunted “dreamer-undocumented-future-liberal-voting-demographic-victims of the west” culture. Of course, now that the story is out, the best weapon the left has is to threaten anyone who dares talk about the effect that this uncontrolled third world flood is having on the west. Maryland is still moving ahead with legislation to become a sanctuary state, while the superintendent of the high school where the rape occurred is calling anyone who may question the status of children in their schools “racist” and “xenophobic”; he is promising legal action. Someone will probably spend more time in jail for threatening to kick the asses of these two dreamers than the dreamers will spend for illegally crossing our borders and violently raping someone’s daughter against the sink in the bathroom stall of her own high school.

No country survives without its culture; no culture can survive without laws. When States and cities are willing to violate federal law, how can one expect individuals, especially from other countries and cultures, to obey them? Worse yet, when the left is willing to offer up the women and children of society at large to gain new voting blocks to support their failing ideology, the cultural collapse will come from within. The coming storm will be brutal and quite protracted. Not everyone is willing to be a stooge for the creeping Marxism the left is trying to impose; others on the left will come to realize that it’s hard to reconcile the concept of sanctuary cities and their own safety, especially given that some of their own leaders have exposed the “new normal” of the culturally diverse western city as terror enabled. Be prepared to die for your devotion to cultural diversity because those you are inviting in are certainly willing to kill for it; whether you’re wearing your “Barjab” or the super progressive pink pussy hat.

Boy, that Kung Fu grip is gonna come in handy….


I took a little breather from the Messy Desk over the past few months. Lots of changes in my life; new job(s), kids off to school, working on books three and four, trying to get my second through editing. Just a lot converging and frankly, I missed it quite a bit.

It's been fun.....

It’s been fun…..

I didn’t miss, however, the negativity that comes with putting yourself out there. Not everyone will share your opinion in the world and it takes skin much thicker than mine I guess. And frankly, I’m not into confrontation. So be it.

But the trend during this political season had me startled. And I’m going to take a serious pounding here and place the blame squarely on you of the liberal persuasion. Sorry, I know you get all pissy with the “broad brush” examples and all. And yes, there are fringe douche-nozzles on each side of the spectrum that make us all look bad. That kind of crap I expect. But I never, ever, expected the unbridled hate that was directed to me from people who I truly assumed were, and indeed, I called my friends. Some of you may recognize yourself here. I trust given your recent behaviors, quite a few of you will never admit to it. Again, so be it.

You can be one of those people who have thousands of followers on twitter; hundreds of friends on Facebook. I’m not quite sure how that works, not sure of the value other than that you have found some measure of validation, some way to massage a flagging ego. I look at friends differently. Emotionally. As a personal investment. If I call you my friend, you have had some measure of impact upon my life, brought some value to it in some way. I may not have impacted you one iota. That’s fine. But since I considered you my friend, you always had my respect, your opinion was valuable and sharing your experiences with me gave me a broader horizon than I would have ever been able to attain on my own.

In fairness, it really started well before this political season. Maybe it was just awareness on my part, an awakening perhaps. Or maybe, I was just finally getting fed up with your bullshit. I started to go over conversations we had had, over and over, trying to discover what inopportune thing I might have said, some thought poorly expressed that would cause you to go into personal-attack warrior mode. I never ascribed it to your political ideology. I always assumed some flaw on my part, even though I never attacked you the way you attacked me. And as always, I was the one who wanted to breach the impasse, allowing your insult to go by un-challenged, putting it off to a “bad day”, or maybe I caught you at the wrong time or some other rationale to cover for your boorish behavior. As a friend, you were more important to me than my ego. I must have said something that pissed you off. What was it?

Turns out, it wasn’t anything I said at all. It is, after all, my unwillingness to bow to your whims, to see it your way. If I wasn’t going to agree with you on every issue, you had absolutely no desire to have me as your friend. Sometimes I’m a little slow on the uptake. But thanks to your constant reminders and reinforcements of late, it has finally dawned on me that I’m not the kind of person you would ever wish to be associated with again. Clarity.

The first inkling was when Obama was running for the first time. I just couldn’t get you to understand that I didn’t think I was greedy for wanting the government to stop taking a larger and larger share of what I earned. Simple. I think I called it “government approved theft.” You on the other hand, felt that not only was I greedy, I hated people who were less fortunate than I was. First implication: I want to keep more of what I earn, ergo; I hate poor people. Yay for you, point scored.

It wasn’t long before I was discussing Obamacare, probably around the same time frame. I was warning about the dangers of a single-payer system, having friends and family who live under it in other parts of the world. No matter; again, I was informed that I hate poor people. I just can’t stand to see them get something I have. I was still trying to digest that statement when you told me what my real problem was; I just want to see Obama fail because it really drives me nuts to see a black man in the White House. You caught yourself when I sent daggers. Well, maybe not me specifically you relented, but a lot of people who think the way I do. Yeah, that really cleared it up for me. And you said it with no hesitation, no remorse and no apology.

And so on it went. When I would disagree over issues with friends who actually shared my values, we’d get heated and say something like, “man you just don’t get it! Somebody hit you with a stupid-stick?” Then we’d chuckle a little, agree to disagree, open a bottle of something cheap and talk about kids, our jobs or the Patriots. Not so with my friends on the opposite side of the political spectrum. With them, it was never about a common understanding, it was always about my penchant to hate, well, apparently everyone.

I had a chance to talk to another old liberal friend about abortion. It was just as disheartening. Coincidentally, I’m on the outs with my conservative readers over my stance on abortion. That’s okay, I’m not doing any better with those on the left. “Sorry,” I told my friend, “I just don’t see in the constitution where it says “A woman’s right to scrape her unborn child from her womb shall not be infringed.”” I believe its a states’ right, not a federal issue and at the end of the day, I have no desire to pay for a woman to do what I fundamentally believe is murdering her own child. Take me out of the equation, pay for your own abortions and you and I will be just fine.

Well, maybe not just fine. Her defense of her position had to do with how misogynistic my positon was, and something about how the need to control all women makes me feel superior while strong, independent women threaten my maleness. I think I drove her apoplectic when I told her that strong, independent women could find the money to kill their own children without involving me, thank you very much. I am heartless. I am dangerous to all women and all they have worked to achieve over the last thirty years. It’s men like me who want to push women back into the kitchens and then out into the back alleys. Really. That’s how she defended her position on abortion, how she was going to persuade me to see her view; by telling me how much I hate my wife, sisters, mother and daughters.

Fast forward. Having spent many years following the exploits of the Clintons, I wasn’t surprised by any of the email or Clinton foundation scandals. I wasn’t going to support her come hell or high-water anyway. And it made absolutely no difference who I would have named as my candidate, you had no desire to win me over; no, you were vested only in silencing me. Once you defined me as racist, bigoted, misogynist, a Nazi, homophobic, Islamophobic, transphobic, e-i-e-i-o, you never needed to defend your positon at all. And yet, I never even told you who I was supporting, only who I wasn’t.

Maybe I was going to vote for the republican candidate of color. Except, we know he’s really not a black man because, according to you and your party, color is subjective and one must subscribe to a certain orthodoxy to be legitimately considered black; you know, that specific set of beliefs that all black people must believe in. All blacks. Every. Single. One.

I may very well have been thinking about the republican Latino candidate. Maybe not authentic Latino enough for your taste? Too legal, too documented?

I really considered the female republican candidate. Of course, she’s not really female. I doubt she even has a vagina. She’s not down with the whole abortion thing so we know she’s not a real female. No, the left wouldn’t let her into the “strong, independent female club,” even if she stood in the middle of a ladies’ restroom at the local Target and said she identified as one. No; strong, independent women only come from the Liberal side of the aisle, where they complain about being given the same chance as the boys, but fall back to helpless damsels in distress to demand that the requirements be lowered for the sake of equality.

You based your hate filled diatribes only on the fact that I wasn’t going to support your candidate. No, not the old white male candidate your party offered up in its great diversity of choices; the old white female one. You know, the one who destroyed evidence that was under subpoena; who giggled about setting free the rapist of a 12-year old girl; who destroyed the lives and reputations of some strong, independent women, tramps and sluts one and all, who just happened to have been sexually assaulted by her husband; who worked with the DNC to make sure she would have no real challengers in her primary, selected not elected; and who lied to you, to your face, about every bit of it.

So here we are. The 45th president of this great experiment in self-governance is Mr. Trump. And you’ve made it abundantly clear that anyone who supported him, willingly or as the lessor of two evils, is racist, homophobic, Islamophobic, yaddi-yaddi-yadda. I went to bed early on election eve resigned to the fact that we would wake up with our first female president, a victory for vaginas everywhere. Apparently, Madonna didn’t have quite the appeal she imagined she had and lo and behold, I woke to the gnashing of teeth and claims of “whitelash.” And being the masochist I truly am, I fired up Facebook just to take a peek.

One acquaintance of mine posted that he was absolutely not going to continue a friendship with anyone who may have pulled the lever for the wishing troll. The responses he got were mixed; some were very supportive of his decision. Some were not. One individual, who apparently had been his friend for decades, was astounded that they would no longer be friends because he didn’t vote the way his tolerant friend had wished. He asked him, “are you seriously going to give up decade long friendships over this?” Sadly, the answer was yes. Well, a wishy-washy yes. It was okay if you didn’t pull the lever for the secretary of corruption, but if you voted for Donald Dump, well sorry; you’re not the kind of person with the kind of morals I can associate with. I stayed silent. You see, I’m fucking deplorable.

There are quite a few others posting similar things, people I know well and have for years; some I have known for shorter periods of time but are still people I find interesting. The common meme is if you voted for “him,” you’re a horrible person and they produce the same list of accusations defining just who you actually hate in case you may have forgotten.

So one would assume that I’m going to lose friends over this election. A shame really. In any event, I wish you and your loved ones a long, healthy, happy and prosperous life. I’ll miss what you brought to my life, the jokes, the difference of opinions and the other worldviews. But no, I won’t apologize; I won’t defend myself, for I have no reason to. And as you peel away the years of friendships and acquaintances you have gained over the years, you can settle back smugly into that safe little echo chamber where your definition of tolerance is everyone agreeing with you. Where you get to define freedom of speech as only speech you agree with, that doesn’t challenge you, force you to defend or rethink your positions. Where diversity means everyone is just like you and you get to dictate what it means to be black, female or moral. Where compromise means everyone gives into your beliefs and abandons their own.

One wonders; is discarding friends really that simple? Does it ever give you pause for introspection? After all, if you can disparage people without remorse, insult them that deeply and personally, what kind of friend have you really been to others? And when you’ve cleaned house, you do realize don’t you, that you’ll be left with people just like you; people who are willing to toss you from their lives if your opinion should deviate from theirs?

And so, I wish you the best. I’ll still be here, checking into Facebook every once in a while to see what your dog is doing, what flavor latte you had this morning, maybe chuckle at one of your jokes. I have no intention of un-friending anyone over this for two reasons; one, life is far too short and too random for me to assume I have all the answers. I rely on the viewpoints of my friends and acquaintances to help keep me grounded, educated and humble.

And secondly, I’m not quite sure how to un-friend anyone anyway and If I ask my daughter one more question about Facebook, she’ll un-friend me too.

 

 


So is the IPhone the cell phone of choice for terrorists? Could be. Is it also the phone of choice for those who want freedom and protection from an ever encroaching government? Yes, very likely. It’s also the phone of choice for kids who like to take their own images and splash them all over social media, the choice for those who don’t even remotely think about their privacy and the choice for many companies like mine who assign them to you without asking you your preference. Am I a Luddite because I only wanted a phone that was just a dammed phone? Jeez, I’m lucky if I can even see the numbers on the screen, let alone text or read exhilarating Facebook posts about someone’s totally unique and personally defining “dark chocolate melted truffle mocha espresso with chocolate sprinkles” from the Starbucks they just visited five minutes ago. Yay, look at me; I can spend four dollars and fifteen cents on a cup of coffee. I don’t want the government to find out though; just my followers on twitter.

Tool of a terrorist or found on a victim?

Tool of a terrorist or found on a victim?

I’m quite sure that Apple has done this before. And I’m quite sure that despite their marketing appeal they already have a way to crack Syed Farook’s phone. I trust Apple no farther than I trust this over reaching government. Sorry Tim ol’ boy, you ain’t my hero. Just keep pumping out these overpriced toys made with off shore slave labor so that the narcissistic selfie crowd can have a safe place to keep pictures of their Anthony Weiner.

It could very well end up that data in Farook’s phone is pointing to some greater threat, an armed cell operating somewhere near San Bernardino, or Washington, or heaven forbid, some Starbucks location loaded with, hey, multiple victims clutching their very own protected IPhone, using Apple-pay to purchase the very self-affirming Latte Macchiato that they need to show to the world. Isn’t that the definition of irony, or is it a poor marketing program? Hey, let’s make it easier for some of our customers to blow some of our other customers to pieces. I think they called that “planned obsolescence.” Maybe. One would assume that either of these two market segments would have a low repeat-purchase-likelihood.

Not quite the only ironies here. If you can’t wrap your head around that one, try these; the very same people who transmit their latest “duck-lipped” image or selfies of their oddly misshaped, silicon plumped naughty bits are screaming about privacy rights? Here’s a concept. Privacy starts with you keeping things private. Please. Those who wish for “big government” are pretty incensed that the Justice Department feels it can force a private company to produce a product or service against its wishes. How’s that? If you support the government deciding what light bulb I have to buy, what health care program I must sign up for, what abortion I need to fund or even stipulate that I have to have a friggin’ Al Gore low-flow crapper in the house, well you’re just being a little disingenuous. Or stupid, take your pick. This is the next logical extension of the power of the big brother utopia that you’ve been clamoring for. Shut up and give us your password.

Of course, it’s no different on the other side. You can’t say that you’re for a limited government, and then state that that “limited government” has the power to coerce a company to give away the privacy of its customers. Sorry, incongruous.

I’m pretty certain that Apple can open this phone if it hasn’t already figured out how. From this point on, it’s all marketing optics. I’m also pretty darn certain that the government already has transcripts of all the calls made with this device. Chances are, they obtained this data illegally anyway and are looking for some way to make said data acceptable in court via Apple. Can’t very well walk into court and say “hey, we were illegally wiretapping this phone, no warrant, no suspicions but thought we’d enter this into evidence anyway. Whaddya say judge?”

I fall squarely on the side of the American people here. The government can go take a flying leap. I’d like to toast every terrorist cell in the country, but I’m not willing to trade my rights, your rights or any one else’s rights to do so. And I’m no fan of Apple here; don’t let them fool you. It’s not like they are protecting anything but their bottom line. Pretty much as they should be. Tim Cook may think the high road is going to go a long way for goodwill here, but I think there’s a pretty good chance that they’re screwed either way. Some will see them as supporting radical terrorists; some will see them battling a tyrannical government.

And some like me, will look at both the government and Apple and realize that they are two sides of the same coin; if you think that neither one of them doesn’t have pictures of your baby mama’s pumpkin sized butt, you’re sadly mistaken.

Gotta hang up now; time to finish my pumpkin spiced latte. You can see it on Facebook.

 

Call ended…


The Iowa Caucus is in the can and the New Hampshire primary is looking us square in the eye; yay… I guess we didn’t get enough of the white stuff Friday to keep the locust swarms at bay. Hey Jeb! Just a note; sending me three copies of the same mailer each time only tends to piss off the mailman and me. Dumbazz. Cruz comes out on top in Iowa, Trumps comes in second, Carson get hosed, Rand quits…and somehow, Rubio gets all the momentum and notoriety coming into Nude Hamster. And the GOP claims there is no real “establishment.” Hey, new summer pool game; get a gang of eight kids, put them in a backyard pool. They close their eyes and yell Marco! When they open their eyes, every kid from the surrounding three towns is now in the pool yelling Rubio. None of them ever have to leave, but Marco promises that we’ll be enforcing tighter curfews in the future.

Feeling the Bern since 1848....

Feeling the Bern since 1848….

I’m not sure about you, but I want the phone number of the guy in Iowa who tossed the coin on the democrat side; the guy has gotta pick my lotto numbers. After a tie in at least six precincts, the coin seemed to drop on the right side for Mrs. Clinton each of the six times. Of course, not only was the vote too close, it may have been questionable to begin with; but such is the luck of the Clintons. Sorry Bernie fans, close but no cigar. It doesn’t really matter anyway, the night went to Marx and he wasn’t even on the ballot. (Well, he was in spirit.) Pretty much a regular socialist election after all. Deny it all you want, but the majority of the democrat party can’t define socialism and neither can Bernie’s die hard millennial troopers. Free stuff though; that they understand.

I blame my parents generation. And maybe even parents who are my age with voting age children. We’re the ones who have given these mindless young adults the idea that anything they want but don’t have will be given to them. That if anyone is more successful they are, then those people are evil and greedy and should be forced to give their “fair share.” I had a typical conversation with one of the Bernie clan; he reprimanded me by saying he’s supporting Bernie because he’s sick of people dying in the streets since they don’t have health care. And there you have it; emotional blocking, I hate people and want them to die in the streets, all because this ignoramus hasn’t done any research into “democratic socialism.” Google Venezuela please. Oh by the way; the fact that government health care is funding the deaths of hundreds of children everyday does not bother him the least. Not in the streets however; in the offices of the publicly funded private organization that progressives cling to at all costs. Bitter clingers.

Fair share; hmmm. Bernie uses that term quite a bit. All progressives do. Hillary did recently when she announced her “out Bernie-Bernie” maneuver, offering to raise taxes on those earning over five million dollars. Their fair share. Of course, it’s not a tax; it’s a surcharge. Yay! Fairness. And she’s not going to raise taxes to do it.

For those wandering around with your “feel the Bern” t-shirt on, take a second and think about the free stuff you’re expecting. Free health care means that eventually, someone has to give up something for you to have it for free. Yes, I know that’s a hard concept for some, especially the same generation who will eventually have to pay back everything that’s “free.” But that’s socialism, Bernsters; the collective gets to decide the value of your labor. The most basic human right of all, the right to the fruits of your own labor, belongs to everyone but the individual. Maybe it’s the nurse who works sixteen-hour shifts. She should work for free. Free college tuition? Hey great. No one needs to get paid to teach. Two things; first, if everyone gets a degree, they essentially become meaningless. Everyone has a belly button. Same thing here; not unique and you get one just for going through the process. I realize that this argument probably doesn’t have any impact on the “participation-trophy” generation, but it won’t be “fair” that some will pass and get a degree while some won’t; socialism demands equal outcomes. Everyone’s going to get a degree; and probably a belly button just in case, since they’re free.

Secondly, Bernie appeals to this generation because he’s as pure as the driven snow in Siberia; he can’t be bought by PACs and special interest groups. Washington is too cozy with big money, votes being cast in favor of firms and industries willing to fund the activities of both parties. Bernie could never be bought like this. His supporters however, are more than willing to trade their votes for this or that free program, essentially acting the part of the whore they see in everyone else. Sadly, these useful idiots can’t or won’t admit that they’ll eventually have to pay for it anyway. Ah, but it feels so good to vote for someone like Bernie; he won’t take money from a super PAC for his vote.

For your vote however, he’s wiling to give you things that don’t belong to him. Democratic socialism rocks, dude…..

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