Good Music Friday

If the past week didn’t give you whiplash, you’re either dead already or sufficiently numb to the exigencies of the world.
In either case, I think, I envy you.
What you can you say about the Democrats, other than they’re a fun bunch.
They’re unified as fuck, so long as the camera keeps tight on the speaker’s podium and the lights stay dim and the audio gets filtered out by professionals to hone in on the dronings of the apparatchiks only. Pay no heed to the 1,000+ who walked out following CUNTON II’s official nomination, the violent protests raging outside the five-mile perimeter of the event site – a perimeter that was “breached” multiple times throughout the week – and all of this coalesced into a spectacle centered around the last true die-hards against the impinging forces of the real and quite tangible world beyond their cocoons of self-denial. After the Sanders contingent was extricated from the proceedings, it was clear everyone remaining was paid to be there – many at $50 /hr to fill empty seats vacated by the BernTard Brigade – others waiting to be paid in influence, federal appointments, and God only knows what else.
So after both party conventions, and both acceptance speeches, it is clear that this is a race between a narcissistic blowhard who is an angry, brutal, capricious thug with a dim view of American life, suffering in equal measure from delusions of grandeur and fits of rage, prone to wild, unpredictable outbursts; and Donald Trump.
Oh and because he’s floating somewhere between 6% and 11%, we’ll through the Liberaltardian into the mix. And if the Communist somehow gets the Socialist on board her campaign, we’ll put the Grass Hut party in there too at 3%-5%.
FUN GODDAMN TIMES.
Anyway.
Closer to home, there is not much happening. Still swamped as all Hell. Projects keep piling up, we keep losing people, and there isn’t enough collected talent and skill in all of India that can help us bridge the gap. Ask me how I know this. The major project that was supposed to wrap by end of May is now pushing well into September, at least, so at least I’ll have distractions from the end of the world. Which is how you get through it I guess.
Nothing on tap for the weekend, mercifully. Weather’s been warm and balmy, but not ridiculously so. I suspect I’ll retire to the back deck for the evening, a cold beer (or 12) and a warm summer night, a ball game on the radio, and I’m finally going to read Antifragile and see what all the fuss is about.
Have a bitchin’ weekend and get ‘em the fuck in, friends.

SONG SELECTION

Olympia, WA
Stockton Boulevard
Stars & Garters
CD Baby | 2007


Good Music Friday

Friday.
Damn it all to Hell.
So there was a political convention this week, and despite the many INCREDIBLE things that transpired at said convention, it was notable for how uneventful it was, both inside and out.
The HASHTAGNEVERTRUMP failed to get itself off the ground, and despite the delegates from several states throwing their credentials at the podium before walking out, five minutes later no one seemed to notice or care. The Presumptive First-Lady-Elect plagiarized a pedestrian speech from the current First, er, Lady, but despite the best efforts of everyone involved, the media incredulity rang hollow. So then Ted Cruz – who HASHTAGNEVERTRUMPers desperately hoped would orchestrate a convention walkout with his legion of followers – was instead booed off the stage by Trump’s legion of followers. Then some speeches by Trump’s family, a speech by Trump, 22 protesters arrested in the course of four days, one of whom lit himself on fire while trying to burn an American flag, 50,000 HASHTAGBIKERS4TRUMP, four days of lamentations from would-be ANARCHISTS FOR BIG GOVERNMENT protesters whining that counterprotesters showed up armed, and it all led to something less eventful than Mahjong Night at Rotary Club’s Youth Auxiliary Bake Sale & Hootenanny.
Oh and Muslims keep attacking whitey throughout Europe and the United States.
But don’t worry about that.
That’s all going according to plan.
So what else happened.
Turkey was briefly overthrown before it wasn’t, then the surviving president launched a thorough purging of all of his enemies through every institution, with many a whisper that the whole affair was either faked top-to-bottom or that the coup was known by the government ahead of time and allowed to proceed. That ought to about do it for Turkey – the country will not see another non-Islamic day for a century or more, but no worries, Because NATO or something.
Beyond that, I got nothing.
It’s Drink O’ Clock and high time for low livin’.
OBLIVION OR BUST.
Have a bitchin’ weekend and get ‘em the fuck in, whatever else you do.

SONG SELECTION

My Creole Belle
The Best of Mississippi John Hurt
Mississippi John Hurt
Vanguard Records | 1970


Good Music Friday

Another week, another Muslim attack upon a soft Western target.
There will likely be no reprieve for at least a while, since the governments of the Western world are, in the best case scenario, merely indifferent to the plight of the victims and the ongoing security concerns.
The worst case scenario, of course, involves active complicity on the part of the governments throughout Europe and North America.
Guess which why I lean.
Go on, guess.
It’s no fun if you don’t.
So midway through this Summer of Love it’s worth noting we’ve got a whole long way to go and there will not be a single appropriate response to be found, because the teeming masses of the viciously dimwitted are our future come Hell or High Water (or both), and that’s that.
Democracy won’t stop this.
Bringing in more really won’t stop this.
The government won’t ever help you.
The police won’t ever protect you.
The media won’t ever be straight with you.
A significant segment of your countrymen won’t ever have your back.
You cannot convince them, persuade them, compel them or buy them.
They’ve committed to their cause, such as it is, to the last.
You will have to take them all on in addition to the fanatics that wish you dead, because they all share the same goal: you and everyone like you relegated to oblivion as a dour footnote in the History of Progress.
Not only that, you will have to fight them all just for the prize of decades of toil and tribulations involved with rebuilding Western Civilization.
Lose, and I guess it doesn’t matter.
So we cannot lose, then.
Anyway.
Nothing much around here this weekend. The weather has been positively mild for July – 78 degrees and slightly but not oppressively humid. One of the nephew’s has a birthday tomorrow, and Uncle Huckleberry has a special surprise – his first rifle. He loves to shoot with me and his other uncle, but his dad is a putz, deathly afraid of guns for some queer reason, and isn’t raising the boy right at least in this regard. I tried this a couple of years ago and it didn’t fly, but now he’s older and it’s high time to re-assess his readiness (and he’s more than ready) for this responsibility. His father isn’t happy about it but he knows enough not to raise a stink about it a second time.
Anyway, it’s a Marlin 795. He’s had a lot of experience with it already, now it will be his – his property, his responsibility for care and storage.
Should be fun.
Oh, and yes as mentioned the smoker’s mostly complete, I just need to apply a couple of coats of high-temp paint, drill holes for the thermometers and install them.
I also have to fashion some kind of handle for the lid but I’ve got plenty of scrap metal or scrap wood to figure something out.
Here you go:

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Anyway, have a bitchin’ weekend, watch out for Muslims bearing bombs, trucks, guns, knives, hammers, bats, brass knuckles, nukes, plague, or handshakes (they wipe their ass with their bare hands you know), and get ‘em the Hell in.

SONG SELECTION

The Legend Of Pat Brown
Peace Thru Vandalism
The Vandals
Epitaph Records | 1982


Good Music Friday

Friday and Friday and Friday.
Strutting and fretting upon the stage.
Signifying, you know, the usual.
Forgive a cynical man for wondering aloud if the tactical assault on the Dallas Police Department at a #BureauLandManagement Peace March isn’t entirely what they’re saying it is. Cops kill black folk; black folk bust out the Call of Duty shit and take out 11/5 cops.
Hrm.
The one shooter they captured on video sure seemed to have some basic infantry experience – not just training, actual Sadr City shitbox experience. And despite the fact that on video you can hear multiple rifle reports the Official Story is desperately trying to pin this on the one shooter who was, aw shucks, killed during a standoff with DPD, who strapped a bomb to a robot, rolled it near the barricaded shooter and detonated it.
That’s a new one, and the kind of thing you do if you absolutely do not want to take the suspect in alive.
Let’s talk a walk through this, if you don’t mind.
Humor me here.
There are one of two possibilities.

    1) Someone, somewhere has a plan that requires as much tribal animosity between the tribes of the world and is going full-tilt to achieve that goal.

    2) Social and civic decline has reached a breach point where all fucking bets are off, and while seemingly fantastic, yet everything we’re told about this is a self-delusional lie.

I’m not going to tell you which way I’m leanin’ here, except to point out that no one’s talking about Hillary Clinton breaking the law anymore.
Closer to home, not much on the agenda except drinkin’ and trying to not get blowed up in some kind of neo-black-power terrorist operation, and since I live in Southern California where the Mexicans and Central Americans have pretty much wiped out the black population, I think I’ll be alright. The weather’s been pretty fine, high 70s, but the humidity’s been high as well, which is less fun.
I’ll be taking the new smoker for a test drive tonight, doing up some pork shoulder, so I’m looking forward to it.
That’s about all I’ve got.
Get ‘em in and have a bitchin’ weekend friends.

SONG SELECTION

The Carry
Live Performance
Arliss Nancy
Populous Chicago Sessions | December 29,2015


Home Is Where The Fraud Is

So that’s done.
Cankles McCunton II walks away with a stern scolding days after her husband carjacked the private plane of the attorney general for a private conversation about golf (where they buried Hoffa) and grandkids (those of the FBI director, apparently) and then despite days of assurances that the DOJ will accept the recommendation of prosecutors, in an attempt to dispel notions of impropriety and the overarching theme that this shit was more rigged than a Globetrotters game, the FBI scrambles to interview Cankles McCunton over a holiday weekend, then in the course of three business hours on Tuesday morning decides that despite all the evidence of crimes being committed, she will face no charges.
The timing couldn’t be any more perfect and fitting if it were an episode of the The West Wing.
Good.
It’s great to have this shit out in the open now.
The worst part of living with the knowledge that this pretense of a Republic has long since been consigned to history is that such thinking put me out into the tall grass with the Art Bells and Alex Joneses of the world.
Welcome, everyone, to the tall grass.
Sure, that the tall grass now grows in the city center indicates these revelations are more a product of persistent and escalating civic decline rather than a rational and improving social awareness, but hey, there was a certain point when every single soul aboard the Titanic finally knew the jig was up, and so too is it with this.
Despite the strongly worded condemnation, McCunton’s camp sees this as a vindication because nothing short of physical incarceration would have prevented her from continuing her campaign to the bitter end, so that continues apace.
If she were facing a normal GOP adversary, one charged with controlled self-emollition, McCunton would be a shoe-in despite the polls currently declaring otherwise. With gloves on and cotillion manners in full effect, a Romney or a Ryan would forget all about this, agree on the need for MOAR MEXICANS, and make the election a singular choice between Col. Klink or Sgt. Shultz.
While I fully expect Trump to lose as well, unless he’s meta controlled self-emollition in collusion with McCunton going way back, Trump should go down swinging, doing us the great service of helping tear it all down.
May the burdens of interesting times rest gently upon her wrists.

Good Music Friday

Holiday Friday in full effect.
It was a better week than most, got some things much in need of handling handled, including finishing the smoker. it justvneeds a couole coats of hi-temp paint and it’ll be good to go.
Don’t know much about what’s been in the news other than The First Husband Elect met secretly with the AG to discuss, apparently, golf and shit, but we’ll see what comes of it.
Cuttin’ this short on account of me already being three sheets into the wind of the weekend.
Happy Independence Day*
Get em in.
* In name only, sure, but maybe that still counts for something.

SONG SELECTION

Fourth of July
See How We Are
X
Elektra Records | 1987


Good Music Friday

I haven’t felt this good about a Friday in a long damn time, and for two reasons I’ll tell you why.

    1) I’m starting a week-long vacation in just a few hours
    2) A lot of schadenfreude-riffic stuff has been happening the past 36 hours

Someone on the high court apparently didn’t get the memo that Scalia’s whacking portended ill tidings should Our Simple Affirmative Action President’s Fiat Amnesty fall. And yet fall it did. Curious that the judge’s votes were kept under wraps for that case, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that the four votes against were Alito, Thomas, Roberts and Kennedy. I honestly would have bet a seriously large sum of money that the executive orders would be affirmed 5-3.
AND THEN.
Fifty one percent of the United Kingdom decided enough’s enough with the continental trans-nationalism and voted to leave the European Union, and honest to God I didn’t think there was enough of them left there to do it. Now it’s great and all, and given how close the final tally turned out to be, I’m honestly surprised fraud wasn’t able to narrowly pull REMAIN over the finish line, but I don’t expect the UK will actually end up leaving the EU. If it were as simple and peaceful as a vote, it would have happened already. Given that every artifice of power in the UK wanted desperately to remain in the EU, every dirty trick in the book, along with a few not even in print, will be employed to maintain the status quo, up to and including repeated re-votes until the hoi polloi learn their place and vote correctly.
This will end in bullets and blades however it shakes out.
Closer to home, though, this is a huge moral victory, and a good sign that there’s some teeth to this revolt against the existing and thoroughly insane power structure in the Western world. Texas may be the first (and still only) US entity to attempt a peaceful exit strategy, but I reiterate it won’t be that easy.
The best things never are.
In the presidential race, I notice that a bunch more crooked shit has come out about CUNTON II, so much so that even in the movies they would’ve indicted her by now. The Trump Train is having some difficulty getting down the track.
But even though we’re into, like Week 58 of the 2016 US Presidential Election cycle, it’s still somehow early yet.
Anything can happen.
That’s it.
I’m out for a week – maybe I’ll get a chance to post a little more often as events allow, or probably not, all I do know is that my stupid vacation is usually just a bunch of different work somewhere else.
Get ‘em in and have a bitchin’ weekend.

SONG SELECTION

England Belongs To Me
Shock Troops
Cock Sparrer
Razor Records | 1982