The pink police state. How the country becomes more authoritarian and rule-bound at the same time some personal behaviors become more “allowed.”
Another scientific study that proves what’s blatantly obvious to dog people: dogs get jealous. (HRH Princess Ava Prettypaws has spent her whole life trying to insert herself between me and any other critter I ever pay attention to.)
Aw, do poo widdle senator. Him suffering so much him dust had to plagiarize. Him dust couldn’t help him widdle self. Yeah. I’m sure “mistakes were made,” too, and he never intended to “give the appearance of wrongdoing.”
You may have heard that Maryland-based Beretta, which had planned to expand into Tennessee, decided instead to move all its manufacturing there after Maryland passed bad gun laws. Better than that, even. In looking for a new location, Beretta explicitly rejected West Virginia because of Joe Manchin.
Apparently neither the Fourth nor the Second Amendment apply when it’s for your own good. (H/T PB from comments.)
The real problem, of course, would be solved by getting rid of government schools and all their rigid one-size-fits-allism. Still, this short video is an interesting analysis of what’s being done to boys. And to society’s future. (H/T MJR)
Related to the story Gunny alerted us to the other day, the intended target in that Texas case has been ordered to recant her statements to the press. As a condition of parole. Can you spell “First amendment abuse”?
What if female bodies in classical paintings were photoshopped as they are in modern ads? Ugh! (Amusing, but still ugh. Also: naked lady alert. But it’s okay because it’s Art.)
So you think nobody’s manipulating the metals markets? Here’s a known case where Barclays (remember them from the Libor manipulation scandal?) deliberately screwed with the gold market to cheat one of their own customers out of $3.9 million. Braaaazen.
Oh, so that’s what that new “trigger warning” BS is all about. Been hearing that phrase and wondered if it was some new antigunnery. Nope. Just more politically correct, infantilizing silliness from the crowd who believes their widdle feewings should never be hurt. No doubt, though, that anything more dangerous than a plastic spork will “trigger” some poor soul’s hysteria.
What Americans are really afraid of. Hint: It’s not terrorism. Anybody else notice that four of the top five and five of the top eight basically amount to the same thing? Or are at least as closely related as the Dionne Quints?
Aw, da poo widdle coppie. Him aw hurt because him being shunned after him was a bad coppie and … somebody decided to howl loud, long, and amazingly effectively for justice.
Apple, too. I suspect this question goes deep, deep down a rabbit hole: Why would any tech company help cover up police thuggery? (Via Wendy — authentic Canadian intellectual. :-) )
Woman’s cancer apparently cured by one mega-strong dose of engineered measles virus.
In many places this would not be news. In darkest blue, gun-loathing New Jersey, it’s a bigger miracle than seeing Jesus’ face in a tortilla. (H/T jw)
I think some school officials are going to be in trouble over this Sure hope so. (PT, who sent this, said she was reminded of Tonio Carolina from Hardyville. Yeah, me, too!)
Bet you didn’t know that Jim Bovard did stand-up comedy. But he pretty much did that at the New Hampshire Liberty Forum. Little rough in the first few minutes. Gets better as it goes.
Despite being a government school initiative that PBS praises, restorative justice is a good idea. (Never mind that us anarcho-types have been promoting justice-through-arbitration over arbitrary punishment forever and being called right-wing nuts for it.)
This is so short and so delightful I’m reprinting it in full. If you wrote this and object to my reprint, please let me know. It’s been getting around a lot.
—–
Empathy Test
By George R. Shirer
The assessor is attractive in a button-down kind of way. Blonde hair, pink jumpsuit, digital makeup set to minimal. Her face is a sculpt, something from one of the mid-level catalogues. Attractive, but not too attractive. The same face you see on a thousand other people. Only her eyes, brown and liquid, are original.
“You failed your empathy test, Mr. Clawford.”
Her tone is carefully modulated. No condemnation there, none at all. Just carefully presented curiosity.
“I know.”
“You haven’t been taking your dose.”
It isn’t a question. I shrug.
“No.”
“Why?”
The assessor leans forward. Her pink uni-suit tightens slightly, emphasizing the shape of her breasts. It’s a cheap trick, meant to distract one, make your interviewer more susceptible to the subharmonic pulses they use in these interview rooms, to make one more compliant.
“Compassion fatigue,” I say.
The assessor arches her brows. “Honestly?”
“Honestly. I’m tired of being chemically forced to care for my fellow man.”
“Are you experiencing nausea? Fatigue? Some people develop a sensitivity to the pills over time.”
“No, nothing like that. I just decided not to take my dose.”
Her carefully modulated expression becomes one of concern.
“You are aware that refusing to take your dose is illegal?”
“It’s a class two offense. I know.”
“Will you take your dose now?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I sort of like feeling like a bastard. Does that make me a bad person?”
“It makes you . . . atypical,” says the assessor. She shifts in the chair. “This is the second time you’ve failed an empathy test, Mr. Clawford.”
“I know.”
“There are three options at this stage,” says the assessor. “You can take your dose and agree to daily monitoring for the next three months.”
“No. I won’t take the dose any more.”
She nods. “Fine. The second option is isolation. You’d be placed under house arrest and not allowed to leave your residence until you resume taking your dose.”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t think so. I think, miss, I’ll go for option three.”
She frowns. “Exile to the Cold Isles?”
“Yes.”
“You are aware that if you choose exile, Mr. Clawford, it’s a one way trip?”
“I know.”
“And that is what you want to do? To go and live among the callous and the unfeeling?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I’d rather be an authentic bastard than a fake nice guy.”
Her grin surprises me. She stands and her suit tightens, turns matt black.
“Good answer. Come with me. We can be in Christchurch within the hour.”
I’m confused. “We?”
She laughs. “What? You didn’t think the fuzzies would trust one of their own to do these assessments, did you?”
“You’re one of the cold?”
“No, Mr. Clawford.” She gives me a look that I’ll get from lots of people over the next few weeks, part condescension, part genuine sympathy. “I’m one of the free.”
And another sign of the times. Great one! College shooting ranges are on the rise. (Tip o’ hat to L.A.)
The president of Uruguay. No matter what else you may think of him (or not think of him, since I’m guessing you spend a very, very small portion of your life thinking anything about Uruguay), he is poor, humble and leads an admirably simple life. (Lord Obama: Take note!)
And let’s close with 33 goofy dogs. (With big H/T to fellow dog lover and dog rescuer, MLS.)
You’ve heard of Bridezilla. And the Wedding Guest from Hell. Now meet The Mad Bomber Groom. Guess you gotta give him points for creativity. Not brains. Definitely not brains. But creativity.
Death panels. Not a good thing. But yes, they’re real (Hellllooo, Canada!). And in the eyes of those who think we’re too stupid to make our own decisions, they are a good thing. (Terms like slippery slope and camel’s nose come to mind here.)
You can filter spam. Your grandmother can filter spam. Thunderbird can filter spam. Everybody and his uncle’s ISP can filter spam. The NSA … not so much.
So go. Monkeywrench away. Instead of abandoning Gmail and Hotmail and all those other snoop-ready services, you can, should you so choose, make the very, very best of them.
I’m working on one of those Big Idea blogs. Not sure how long it’ll take to bring form out of the void. In the meantime, here’s some cheer. All these are related to the piece I’m working on.
The first three images I stole from Ragnar’s Freedom Outlaw page — the only thing on Facebook worth bothering with.
Next, here’s one from Random Acts of Patriotism. I never visited that site before, so I can’t vouch for its POV. But it did win my favor by linking to this article noting that v*ters have a higher opinion of hemorrhoids than Congress. (See, not all v*ters are stupid.) Anyhow, I grabbed this from there:
And finally, here’s a report from old online friend Shorty Dawkins (now of Oath Keepers) about the weekend’s takedown of Obama’s Barrycades in DC. Got some good pix there, including this one:
“Dogs are people, too.” At least in their abilities to feel and anticipate — something that will come as no surprise to anybody who’s lived with them, but is apparently news in neuroscience. (Tip o’ hat to MLS)
Federal theater of the absurd. (I also agree with Carl that the Crazy Horse monument is so superior to Mt. Rushmore in every way that even after the silly feddies remove the barriers I’d still just drive on past and watch free enterprise at work a few miles down the road.)
Erm … I don’t usually read Glamour. But I found this heartfelt smackdown of a money-hungry bride on a forum I frequent. Even as a young girl, I hated the notion of weddings; these days when they’ve become big excuses to put families into debt while the couple collects big cash gifts, this response from a guest is a touch of sanity.
Here’s another “non-journalist who wouldn’t be entitled to First Amendment freedom-of-press protections if TPTB have their way.
You may have heard that the dollar ain’t worth sh*t these days. Well ….
And finally, here are three from the Commentariat: How to tell your mother and your boss why they should object to the surveillance state; Choosing the gun that’s right for you; and seriously now, here’s some Pollyanna in rose-colored glasses on some serious mind-altering drugs who sees benefits in the surveillance state. (H/T finders, one and all!)
