Okay, so I’m reading about one of the Blue Angels™ at this air show in San Transexual (yeah, I don’t know how they managed that, either), and this neat visual effect they did…
Cool, huh?
Anyway, one of these nose-up-in-the-air snotty Brits had to chime in…
Nothing quite like the Stargighter the German Air Force nick named it the flying coffin others the widow maker. It had disconcerting habit of killing pilots and they really forgot to fit wings just a couple of stubs. It wasn’t all that really. I know you Americans think everything you do is the best but some things just don’t work out…
Last NATO flight competition I had with you guys we beat you. You had better technology pity about the lesser ability. Don’t knock we Brits especially today of all days. Late for every war and full of it.
Well, I tend to think we were sure the fuck on time in 1776 & 1812, but that’s another Brit beatdown for another day.
But then a fellow American chimed in…
Last NATO flight competition I was in you Brits had all kinds of “rules” that you wanted us to follow to ensure we didn’t wipe you off the map. Couldn’t fly half the planes off the deck of our carrier, couldn’t use our E2 Hawkeyes at all, couldn’t use our satellite links, couldn’t use our subs offensively, couldn’t use drones, and we were only allowed to fly ONE EA-6B for the whole carrier group. Couldn’t fly below 2,000 feet, nor above 50,000 feet.
You “win” these competitions because you simply will not take us on head to head.
We laugh it off as your commanders stroking your egos, making you think you’re better than you really are.
Mheh.  PJ O’Rourke rides again. 
(Hat tip:  Major Geeks.)
The 7Gadgets site is trying to say that this is the ultimate geek chair.
I beg to differ.
For this to be the Ultimate Geek Chair – it would have to be an oversized chaise recliner that swivels. 
If there’s one thing that pisses me off more than a libtard, it’s a milque-toast Republican/conservative.
So I’m reading this thread about Demoscum doing some yelling at a townhall meeting, and I first read this comment:
Not advocating, just observing, this is going to have to be settled in the streets.
Okay?  Okay.
It was followed in short order…by this fucking pansy-ass.
You’re in the wrong place. I think you’re looking for the SEIU forums.
Whereupon I once again see the RCOB™.
This chickenshit RBNY will likely never come over here to see this, but I’m gonna address him anyway.
Listen up, needle-dick.  Ronsfi is absolutely, positively, 100% right  on this – and whomever doesn’t see it that way just flat-out ain’t paying attention.
The Left is going to not only continue its thuggery, it’s going to expand it – and if you needed any evidence to that effect, just read Jennifer Rubin today (hat tip, Sister Toldjah):
The left has predictably gone batty over the resignation of former solicitor general Paul Clement from the law firm of King and Spalding after the white-shoe firm backed out of its representation of the House of Representatives on the Defense of Marriage Act case. Greg Sargent interviewed a gay rights activist and got a remarkable admission: The left favors politically bullying to deter lawyers from representing clients it doesn’t like:
Feel free to read the rest.
It’s going to get worse – not better.  And at some point, the bullying will  have to be met with a response.  We can’t afford to go all Gandhi here – all that’ll get us is killed, and the Left will win anyway.
All so we can puff our (dead) chests out and say “well, at least we didn’t stoop to their level – we’re better  than that”?
Bull.  Fucking.  Shit.
Look, if you want to wring your hands in (mock?) angst, pull a Juan McRINO and bemoan the fact that there’s no “comity” in the public debate anymore, that’s your right.  Knock yerself out.
But do me and the rest of us a favor:  Step the fuck aside.
Because if you don’t, when we do  have the SHTF moment, and the fighting starts for real…you’ll just be in the way.  And you’ll be helping them  more than you will us.
And there’ll be only one way to deal with that.
Denizens, someone correct me on this – but this doesn’t look like a “long form” to me.
It looks more like the same “Certificate of Live Birth” that Bambi & his sycophants have been trying to pass off as legitimate for the last three years or so.
Now Patterico & Worthing seem to think this is the bona fide.  Professor Jacobson, however, respectfully disagrees.  We are, therefore, right back to square one.
Aside:  Trump was on Fox News this morning taking credit for Bambi finally “caving in” (if that, in fact, is what he’s done).
However, Trump’s been going on about this for at least a month & a half now; thus, I tend to discount this.  It’s more likely that Bambi finally decided to address the issue after CNN got involved.
Make of all this what you will.  I remain skeptical for now.
UPDATE:  The Vicar does correct me, in fact, and posts the “short-form” over which there was the initial brouhaha.
So, fine.  For now.
But these are Demoscum, and Demoscum are simply not to be trusted.
On anything.
One eyebrow remains raised. 
UPDATE the 2nd:  Sure e-fucking-nough.
Never, ever, trust a Donktard.
Here is a report on the manner in which a Mississippi town dealt with the fools of Westboro Baptist Church.
I have spent some time thinking about this today, and have come to the conclusion that people such as Westboro do have the right to publicly assemble, and express their opinion. The people of the community also have the right to express their opinion. This was not a government action, it was an organic coming together of the people to protect members of the community from outsiders who wished them harm. The harm was emotional, but it was still harm.
Hats off to the people of Brandon Mississippi!
Time for a massive RCOB™ moment.
The four-lettered network word is reporting that a tin-horned, black-robed bitch of a tyrant-ette who doesn’t know a fucking thing about football has donned her kneepads for DeMaurice Smith’s needle-dick and lifted the NFL lockout.
Fuck you, Susan Dickhead Nelson.
If I’m the NFL owners, I keep the locks on nice & tight, and just dare her to come enforce her pissweaselly excuse-for-a-ruling, if she’s such a hot little shit-ette.
And you NFL player pussies?  Yeah, I’m talking Pay-ton, Mr. Gisele “Tommi Bwady” Bundchen and half-assed hasn’t-proven-shit-yet wannabe Vonn Miller?  How about you douchebags get a real  job in the salt mines of the Real World™ before you go bitching to some shit-for-brains excuse-for-a-judge about how pissy-poor your lot is in life, huh?
Fucking bastards. 
After the Sabbath, at dawn on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to look at the tomb.
There was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning, and his clothes were white as snow. The guards were so afraid of him that they shook and became like dead men.
The angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples: ‘He has risen from the dead and is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him.’ Now I have told you.”
So the women hurried away from the tomb, afraid yet filled with joy, and ran to tell his disciples. Suddenly Jesus met them. “Greetings,” he said. They came to him, clasped his feet and worshiped him. Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid. Go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.”
—Matthew 28:1-10
And may God add His blessings to the reading of His holy Word.
I say this every year.  It was true before I said it.  It was true when I said it the first time.  It’s true now, and it will be until the end of time:  It’s not about colored eggs, or bunny rabbits, or chocolate facsimiles of bunny rabbits, or pretty spring dresses, hats, or anything else you want to wear today.
It’s about the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords, and what He did roughly 2000 years ago to redeem our sorry, sinful, filthy a***s.
We should be grateful.  And I am.
Happy Easter 2011, Denizens. He is risen!
[SCENE:  the bridge of ISS Titanic.  Lord Darth Venomous has guided the dying behemoth out of Realm™ spacedock and sent it warping toward Parts Unknown™.
Uh, m’liege – where are  you taking her?]
VENOMOUS:  Towards the sun, away from our civilization.  Be rather rude of me to drop this fireball on a populated planet, now wouldn’t it?
[But, Admiral, how are you going to get off the ship with no shuttlepods?]
VENOMOUS:  Not a problem.  I just happen to have stashed the prototype along this course, just in case I needed it someday.  (touches a control on a makeshift panel, aft) See?  There it is now.
[As we cut to the viewscreen, there hangs in space the Prototype™ – in worse condition than the last time we saw her, if that’s possible.]
VENOMOUS:  Computer – time?
COMPUTER:  One minute, seventeen seconds to warp-core breach.
VENOMOUS:  Okay, excuse me, Narrator…let’s see, prefix code…bring systems back online…
[On the screen, the prototype visibly comes to life, as Titanic  comes ever closer, nearing transporter range.]
VENOMOUS:  …bring the transporter online…
COMPUTER:  (BREEEEEEP!!!)  Warning! Warp-core breach, thirty seconds.
VENOMOUS:  Okay, okay!  Now…wait.  How did you know I was out of shuttlepods, Narrator?
[On the viewscreen, from the upper left comes a string of energy that looks eerily like the Nexus gateway we saw in ST:Generations – only this one looks darker and more forboding.
The ribbon gets to the prototype first, slicing through it and destroying it instantly.]
VENOMOUS:  Oh, shit.
[How’s it feel, knowing you’re not gonna get out of this one alive, you son-of-a-bitch?!]
VENOMOUS:  WHAT THE FUCK…?!?!?!?!!!
[That’ll teach you to Force-choke Allan-a-dale, our union brother, you sanctimonious bastard!  Suck it, wingnut!!!  BWAH-HAHAHAHAHAHA…!!!!!]
[The poor, helpless right-wing prole looks into the camera as he finally realizes that no Force tricks, no lightsabers, no particle disruptors are gonna get him out of this one.]
COMPUTER:  …zero.
[Cut to external view, as the energy ribbon, Titanic  and her breaching warp core meet at precisely the same time.  The explosion in space could almost be seen from Realm™ spacedock, so beautifully massive was it.]
NEXT:  Welcome to Hell.  How do  you like it?!
(Hat tip to Tallulah over at the Rott.)
When – no, not if, when – God finally decides He’s had enough and brings the United States to its knees and relegates it to the ash heap of history, no one should wonder why:
But back to the question of genius. The U.S. government under Barack Obama is deeply committed to battling any belittlement, criticism, or questioning of Islam. (“I consider it part of my responsibility as President of the United States,” he said, “to fight against negative stereotypes of Islam wherever they appear.”)
At the same time, however, it is OK, in the Obama regime [SEE BELOW FOR AN UPDATE], for the U.S. government to burn Bibles. Yes, that’s right. Bibles were sent to U.S. soldiers in Afghanistan. But the U.S. government determined that the presence of Bibles in this “devoutly Muslim country” might inflame the natives. So they burned them. Why did they burn them? Because it is military policy to burn its trash.
[…]
Isn’t that nice? Handle it “as if it were a fragile piece of delicate art.” But burn the Bible because it is just part of your trash.
Not gonna be long now, I think, Denizens.
Over at Patterico’s, they’re having a discussion concerning Standard & Poor’s pre-downgrading of the United States’ credit rating.
(And yeah, that’s what’s going to happen – does anyone really think otherwise?)
Anyway, the discussion is starting to deteriorate to what one would rather have – whether it be a high sales tax, or a property tax, high taxes, high deficits, what have you.
Which prompted an Idle Thought™ I’ve been having for a number of years now.
Listen to all the political hacks & talking heads yakking it up on TV & elsewhere, and you eventually notice one thing:  They’re always talking about raising taxes.
Not revenues.  Taxes.
Why?
How come you never hear anyone anymore talking about raising revenues?  You know – money.  Greenbacks.  Moolah.  Simolians (sp?).  Scratch.  Benjamins.
You get the idea.
No, it’s always about raising tax rates  that they’re constantly bloviating.  And this is both Pubbies & Donks alike – no party’s immune to this.
Ask yourself:  when has anyone ever paid a debt with a tax rate?  When has anyone ever funded a program – governmental or otherwise – with a tax rate?  Does Alex Rodriguez make $30 extra-large (that’s “thirty million” for you pussies in the Church of the SubTarded) per year in tax rates?
No.  We settle our debts, buy our food, pay our rents & mortgages, etc, with revenues – not tax rates.
Politicians bitch, whine & moan about raising tax rates, blithely believing that the population at large will just bend over and take it up the ass, and not do anything to counter government’s attempts to confiscate that which, rightly, should not be theirs.  It would be far better for the country – and ultimately, for the poli-hacks themselves – if they would concentrate their (disturbingly) limited focus on raising revenues.
And you do that…by lowering  tax rates.  By taking less of a producer’s hard-earned money, and by letting that producer do with that money what he/she does best:  Produce.  Invest.  Create jobs.  Hire people for those jobs.
And by doing so, creating more taxpayers for the cycle to begin anew.
Should you ever get a chance to directly address your Congresscritter (assuming, of course, that they’re not the type that tries to hide behind their local SEIU goon) – demand that they tell you what they’re doing to raise revenues, rather than tax rates.
And let them who have ears to hear…hear.
(Or, Never Mind The Dog – Beware Of Owner! (grin))
Mrs. Venomous is…uh, shall we say…reticent  around the preferred method of defense in the Realm™.
RAYEGUN:  Y’mean, she’s afraid of guns?
VENOMOUS:  A severe character flaw, I know.
MRS. VENOMOUS (with skillet):  WHAT?!?!?!?!?!
MERLIN:  And you married her despite this?
MRS. VENOMOUS (with skillet): 
VENOMOUS:  Gentlemen, may I suggest you start running now?  I’ll finish the post whilst you save your asses.
MRS. VENOMOUS (with skillet):  Grrrrrrrr…
Anyway, the Department of Improvisation™ relates to us the story of this Florida couple who demonstrates to us that one doesn’t always need a firearm to defend oneself.
Things just didn’t pan out for whoever invaded 81-year-old Bobby Smith’s Jacksonville home Saturday afternoon.
In fact, you might say the robber got the point – literally – after the Korean War Navy veteran was through with him.
Smith and his caregiver used a pan full of fried potatoes and a pitchfork to drive the attacker away. A compact man with a close-trimmed gray haircut, Smith said he wasn’t scared.
“I was angry; I was upset; and I was as mad as all outdoors,” Smith said Wednesday. “If I’d had my gun, like I normally would have, I would have shot him because he was in my home. I don’t like people hurting my family or my home.”
Now there’s  Castle Doctrine™ for you.  Get the point?
ALL:  Ew.  Just, ew.
Now, if y’all will excuse me, I have a frying pan to actively avoid…
[SCENE:  Aboard the now-empty bridge of ISS Titanic.  Admiral Darth Venomous has banished his crew to the friendly confines of Realm™ headquarters, and is now keying in some final adjustments to the course on which he will send ISS Titanic  for its final voyage after the ship’s core containment system failed.
Captain Korrioth calls Titanic  from spacedock control.  Lord Venomous answers the hail.]
KORRIOTH:  Admiral, sensors indicate the rate of containment deterioration is increasing.  We need to get you out of there soon.
VENOMOUS:  Acknowledged, Captain.  Just a couple of moments more, than I’ll kick this pig into gear and you can beam me out.  Stand by.
[Venomous keys in half a dozen more commands, then hits a switch & engages the engines.  Cut to exterior view of the massive dreadnought lumbering into motion out of spacedock.
Cut back to bridge view.  Venomous hits ship-to-surface.]
VENOMOUS:  Awright, Mr. Korrioth, that should do it.  One to beam ou—
[Sparks erupt from the console in front of the admiral.  The ship bucks – once, twice, three times.
Cut to external view of Titanic, aft.  Three photon torpedoes fly from their tubes towards spacedock control.  Shifting views, we see that the photons meet no resistance as they hit their target – a bank of power generators.
In the control room, bodies have been thrown to the deck and chaos reigns.]
KORRIOTH:  REPORT!!!
MERLIN:  Main energizers out, Captain!  We’re on batteries!
OZY MCCOOL:  Transporters gone, Captain!  He knew exactly  where to hit us!
T-BONE MCMANX:  Communications board overloaded, sir!  Everyone in the station calling, trying to find out what happened!
KORRIOTH:  Tell them to take a good effing guess, Lieutenant, but clear that damned board!
T-BONE MCMANX:  Aye, sir!
K’HADIBAK’H:  Why, Captain?  WHY?!?!
KORRIOTH:  That’s not your concern at the moment, Lieutenant.  Assist Mr. Merlin & Mr. McCool; help them get power back online. See if you can get anything resembling shields up.
K’HADIBAK’H:  Yes, m’lord!  (scurrying off)
KORRIOTH (muttering):  You’d better have a damned good excuse, you mangy p’tahk, or, Sith Lord or not, I’ll—
[The speakers pick that time to receive the first clear signal in what seems like hours.]
VENOMOUS:  —tanic to spacedock, report!!!
KORRIOTH:  What do you mean, report?!  You should already know  what you’ve done to us, you cowardly little needle—
VENOMOUS:  I  didn’t do anything, Captain!!!
KORRIOTH:  I saw the photons come out the rear tubes myself!  If you didn’t do it, who the fuck did?!?!?!
VENOMOUS:  How the hell am I  supposed to—
[Cut to Titanic’s  bridge.  At that moment, the main screen displays an image that changes everything.]
VENOMOUS:  Oh.  Shit.
KORRIOTH:  What???  WHAT?!?!?!
VENOMOUS:  Slight problem here, Kor.  I’ll get back to you.  [He closes the channel.]
[Cut to spacedock control.  Korrioth is pounding the crap out of the speaker, trying to elicit a response.]
KORRIOTH:  Admiral!!!  ADMIRAL!!!!  Dammit!!!
[Cut to Titanic’s  bridge.  As Venomous surveys the damage to the conn, he is not a happy camper.]
VENOMOUS:  Great.  Automation system’s gone…sluggish helm, at best…(checks a reading)…at least I have some warp drive left.  (raising his voice) Computer…estimated time to core breach.
COMPUTER:  Four minutes, forty-seven seconds.
VENOMOUS (muttering to himself):  Guess I’d better hurry then, huh?
[Venomous quickly re-keys in his course, then hits the big red button. Cut to external view, as Titanic  shoots into warp.]
To be continued…
In this thread over at the Rott, I said this concerning the GOP’s 2012 chances after the Friday night massacre:
The GOP is not “almost certain” to win it – not by anything even remotely resembling a longshot.
Thanks to Dubya and his supplicative homage to “new tone” (i.e, capitulating to damn near everything the Demoscum wanted in order to “get along” with them, much as his father tried (and failed) to do in his term), the GOP lost credibility in ’06 and ’08 – which is why they lost those elections and why the Ayatollah Obambi now occupies the White House. The American people saw how much Bush 43 liked to play with Demoscum, so they gave him more to play with.
2010 was the audition to get that credibility back – and, thanks to Friday night, they lost the audition. Maybe not with the Beltway pundits, etc, ad infinitum, ad nauseam – but don’t be surprised if it turns out that it’s been completely lost with the American people.
If Washington maintains the status quo – and I think this likely – the GOP will not win in 2012. And Friday night will be a huge reason why.
Doug Powers relates that in the eight days run-up to the massacre, the deficit jumped $54.1 extra-extra-extra-large (that’s billion  for you pricks in the Church of the SubTarded).
Weepy John-Boy Boner graciously  gave us $38 XXXL in cuts.  You do the math.
Once again, my late friend Bob Plett was right about the Grand Old Pissants. 
(Hat tip to the Emperor.)
This makes me fucking sick.
Go ahead.
Watch it.
If you fucking dare.
I watched the whole thing.
Now I need some industrial-strength brain bleach.
Ew.  Just.  Effing.  Ew. 
Ed Morissey says that Bambi is threatening not to pay the troops.
The Administration strongly opposes House passage of H.R. 1363, making appropriations for the Department of Defense for the fiscal year ending September 30, 2011, and for other purposes. As the President stated on April 5, 2011, if negotiations are making significant progress, the Administration would support a short-term, clean Continuing Resolution to allow for enactment of a final bill.
For the past several weeks, the Administration has worked diligently and in good faith to find common ground on the shared goal of cutting spending. After giving the Congress more time by signing short-term extensions into law, the President believes that we need to put politics aside and work out our differences for a bill that covers the rest of the fiscal year. This bill is a distraction from the real work that would bring us closer to a reasonable compromise for funding the remainder of Fiscal Year 2011 and avert a disruptive Federal Government shutdown that would put the Nation’s economic recovery in jeopardy. The Administration will continue to work with the Congress to arrive at a compromise that will fund the Government for the remainder of the fiscal year in a way that does not undermine future growth and job creation and that averts a costly Government shutdown. It is critical that the Congress send a final bill to the President’s desk that provides certainty to our men and women in military uniform, their families, small businesses, homeowners, taxpayers, and all Americans. H.R. 1363 simply delays that critical final outcome.
If presented with this bill, the President will veto it.
Oh, now that’s  real smart, Bambi.  Piss off (by pissing on) our military.  The outfit that, despite the most metrosexually bleating of your so-called “promises”, still maintains a presence in both Iraq and  Afghanistan.
The outfit that you’re about to send over to Libya to be “boots on the ground”, despite your supposedly-sincere insistence that this just won’t happen.
The outfit that, when the fecal material really  hits the oscillator, may  just remember who tried to screw them over.
The armed  outfit that may remember.
The armed and dangerous  outfit.
I think you catch my point.