Don’t Clap Too Loudly…

It’s a very old world.

This is just a proof-of-life post. Not going to lie, 2021 was a shit year, and probably the beginning of a lot of hunkering down.

Hope y’all are doing well, and I wish you a happy New Year.

The Fraudulency Of The United States Of America

Here is a one-stop shop tracking the hilariously blatant Grand Theft Presidency that’s been underway now for nearly seven days. And this only covers the most brazen examples in the six most obvious states, but this shit happened from Oregon to Virginia:

So that’s one line of statistical evidence. A second line of evidence concerns mail-in ballots not only in PA but also in MI. Specifically, Biden’s advantage in Mail-in/Absentee votes in PA (+60.5) and MI (+37.9) was several times what it was in any other swing state (+6.3). This on its own is hard to explain without positing fraud.

C’mon You Sons Of Bitches, Do You Really Wanna Live Forever?

I can’t speak for anyone else, but personally I am rapturous.
This is the best opportunity we’ve had in a hundred years to smash this traitorous, treacherous machine. It’s clear our enemies have put all of their chips in; this is their final bet.
Its last call.
Pray.
Be stalwart in your resolution and dedicated to the idea that we’ve never had a better opportunity to win this thing than we do right now.
Make every victory of theirs pyrrhic; everything they’ve done has been out of desperation, not strength.
Trump won.
The Trumpslide was real.
He got 10M more votes and counting than last time, from all walks of American life, from all corners of the country. Don’t wallow in the incorrect thought that if only the Trumpslide were larger, this wouldn’t be happening.
That simply isn’t true.
Our one miscalculation was and continues to be in the idea of a margin for fraud; as if there would’ve been some volume of Trump votes that would’ve scared them off.
If Trump had been up 5M votes in PA, they would be manufacturing 5.1M votes in Philadelphia county as we speak. There was no line in the sand at which they would’ve balked.
This is their hill.
Let us make sure they die on it.

The Seas Between Us Broad Have Roared

So this will be my first, last, and only post in the calendar year 2019. If you’re reading this, I was able to remember the login info for the site, so all is not as lost as it once seemed. Ordinarily at this time I’d be on vacation from work, and provided with some measure of time to reflect on the previous year and create a broad strokes roadmap in my mind for what I want to accomplish in the coming year.
But 2019 is going out like it came in, so I spend this New Year’s Eve working, because there is too much work to do. At least I can do it remotely so I am at the desert redoubt, where I prefer to mark occasions like this. The weather is cool but not cold and the sky is clear and brilliant. Despite the work, I’ve got some egg nog fortified by the best distilleries man has yet erected, so we’re on the happy side of PAR for a night at least.
Out in the world, it’s surprising how much and how little has ultimately changed in the past 365. The insane have grown moreso and the recalcitrant likewise, and if the woke gets any thicker out there you’ll be able to cut the air in half with a butter knife.
Alas.
The impeachment that has yet to be filed is the perfect metaphor for the year that barely was – a tale told by an idiot, full of the sound and fury of brigands, of course signifying nothing at all.
Keep pulling that ripcord, lunatics! And really, the only thing to say about the impeachment is that Trump was impeached for not going to war:

Ultimately, it appears that a major motivation for this president’s impeachment has been the fact he is not pro-war enough. This should surprise no one, of course, since the bread and butter of Washington, DC is perpetual war against countless real and imagined enemies. The Pentagon is currently funded at levels above those of the Vietnam War, and above the Cold War average , but we relentless hear about how the military establishment is at crisis levels of neglect. This, of course, is demonstrably false, as is the claim withholding a few bucks from the corrupt Ukraine regime puts the US in danger from a Russian invasion. There are certainly good reasons to impeach presidents, but not being sufficiently pro-war isn’t one of them.

On a personal note, everything is going great. My son just had his first birthday. Its predictable yet still odd to see bits and pieces of your progenitors come to live in a brand new person, but it also makes me feel like I’m going to live forever in the best possible way. It’s been a blessed year and I’m hopeful we can have at least one more before we run out of runway. Becoming a father is by far the best thing that has ever happened to me, and like the Grand Canyon it’s one of the few things that lives up to the hype.
So I’m going to end this note here, shorter than usual but you get what you pay for, close up the work stuff also, and head out to the back deck with that egg nog and do some stargazing.
I wish you all (whoever still pops by anyway) a very happy New Year and I truly hope 2020 is provides professional success and personal satisfaction for you and yours.
Maybe I’ll try to kick this blog back into gear since I’ve been reliably informed there’s an election on.
No promises.
Happy New Year!

From Morning Sun Till Dyne

So we close out yet another year. I bet you didn’t expect me to get in a post at all. Truth be told, with everything that is currently in flux here, neither did I. Due to a complication, the wife had to undergo an emergency c-section, meaning my son was born 10 days early. The surgery got a little dicey, but thank God both baby and mama got through it and are now alright. And, on the bright side, my son can now take down Macbeth should the need ever arise.

So its New Year’s Eve, and for the first time in more than a decade, I am spending it in Los Angeles. The wife is still recovering, and is sleeping in the family room. I’ve got my son here with me, sleeping in my office that is currently half-way to becoming his room. It’s as cold here as it would be at the Desert Redoubt, and a lot more noisy, but alas. The boy is too little to make that drive and the wife is in no condition either. So, Los Angeles.

But hey, I’ve got a good drink or five, the rest of the house is mostly quiet, and I’ve got some football on the radio.

I’ve suffered worse.

In the larger world, I note that 2018 likewise ends in a much different place than anyone expected when it began, even though most if not all of the changes are merely symbolic. The larger battles still exist: globalists versus not-globalists, social justice NPCs versus not-social-justice-NPCs, Establishment versus not-Established. #HASHTAGTHERESISTANCE still roils in the festering lunatic ward of my home state of Kalifornia, the next unholy run at the President of the United States of America is already as of today kicking off, and 2019 will be an absolute circus of lawsuits and show trails and lunacy of all shades from all sides.

I can hardly wait.

Beyond that, I have no idea what the new year will bring.

Having a son, as cliched as it sounds, has changed my thinking on a number of things. From making sure a few extra diapers get stuffed into the bugout bags, to wondering what kind of world my boy will have to endure, I find myself trying to figure out how to raise him for the challenges that lay ahead. It’s a fine line, especially considering that I’m already fighting off a frightening array of attempts to inculcate the boy and he’s barely two weeks old. In a world where system of control is a corrosive agent, its all I can do to resist simply holing up out in the desert and cutting off the tv/internet.

I have faith in a just God that I’ll be able to protect him, teach him, and give him the skills, fortitude, and faith to persevere in a world that will likely despise him simply for the parents he was born to. I’ve managed to make good men of my nephews and good women of my nieces, despite the pervasive rot of a sick and fallen world. I have no doubt I can do the same now for my son.

I suppose I’ll leave it there.

I wish you all a Happy New Year, and I hope 2019 is as good to us as 2018.

Good Music Friday — Sabbatical Edition

Ladies and Gentlemen.
It’s been a while.
NOT DEAD YET.
So far this summer has been a trial.
Between two separate jobs going into crunch time, and a bit of news wherein Huckleberry Jr. may be a thing this year after 10 years of trying, its clear that even stupid weekly blog posting is not too likely in the near term. Given that Thursdays are a little lighter, I may switch it to that day, but truthfully this space may just lay dormant for a bit.
On that note, I’m headed out.
Gone fishin’.
Catch y’all soon.
Get ’em in.

SONG SELECTION

Twilight Time
The Flying Platters Around The World
The Platters
Mercury Records | 1958

Good Music Friday

LOOK AT HUCKLEBERRY, DRINKIN’ AGAIN.
MUST BE FRIDAY ABOUT NOONTIME.
CALL IN THE MEAT WAGON.
CALLIN’ IT.
GET ‘EM IN, IF IT’S THE LAST THING YOU DO.

SONG SELECTION

Hard Times
Blue On Blues
John Lee Hooker
Fuel 2000 Records | 2002

Good Music Friday

There is nothing better than the first beer of the weekend, which I’m greeting just now out on the back deck, because if ever there was a week where 2pm was quittin’ time, this was it.
The only news of interest to me this week was the capture of California’s most notorious serial rapist and murderer, who turned out to be a cop still living in the same town where he started the whole thing in the early 70s. Turns out one of the original detectives was kicked off the original task force for insisting the perp had to be a cop.
Imagine that.
I also once again wish to note that Macs are horrible, terrible things, and the Mac OS is just not meant for decent people just trying to get through their jobs.
JOBS.
Ugh.
Okay, I’m out.
Get ’em in, if its the last thing you ever do.

SONG SELECTION

Highway Patrolman
Johnny 99
Highway Patrolman
Columbia Records | 1983

Good Music Friday – Nope Edition

NOPE.
HUCKLEBERRY, OUT.

SONG SELECTION

Come Go With Me
Audition Recording
The Del Vikings

Good Music Friday

SITREP: NOT DEAD.
Not yet, anyhow.
Last week got away from me. Friday came and went so quickly, I hardly knew it even happened.
This is going to be another short one, because I know get to figure out how to do my job on a goddamn Macbook, since the company is making us switch to the platform.
Its almost enough to make a man want to dedicate his life to creating a technology specifically for the resurrection of Steve Jobs, just so I could kill him again and again and again and again.
It is, however, the perfect system for Millennials, who can’t grasp basic file structure or how to double-click on things.
WE NEED TO GAS THEM ALL NOW, WHILE WE STILL HAVE TIME.
Have a great weekend.
HUCKLEBERRY, OUT.

SONG SELECTION

When I Die
The Troubled Troubadour
GG Allin
Mountain Records | 1996