Saturday, January 17, 2015
Each year about this time I put figurative pen to paper and puke forth my annual predictions. But you know that. You've been following my little blog for years now, and feverishly awaiting the publication of the current list. And this year's is a doosey. Or is it "dusey?" Or perhaps "duzie?"
Anyhoo, sit back, pour yourself a nice glass of juicy Merlot, chilled to a perfect 59 and one-half degrees, and delight in the inherent goodness that will now unfold in rapturous beauty before your very eyes...
1. House Speaker John Boehner's suntan bed will break, his orangish tan will disappear and he won't be able to get into the Capitol Building without I.D. He'll be able to vote, of course, but not get into the Capitol building. How awful.
2. You know that most recent Supreme Court rulings end in a five-four vote, with the conservative majority barely holding sway. Barry getting his fanny metaphorically kicked over non-recess, recess appointments to the National Labor Relations Board, that paragon of thugish and slavish union ass-licking, are but one 5-4 example. The Golfer-in-Chief has been urging Ruth Bader Ginsburg to resign her seat and go home so he could appoint another lefty weenie to the court before his interminable term of office mercifully ends. She just won't do it. I think she likes the attention. So, I predict her body will be found floating face down in the Tidal Basin this spring. The story will be she went for a swim and had a cramp in her 123 year-old leg, dooming her to the existential dirt nap.
3. Seven more Malaysian Airlines jets will go missing. And, shortly thereafter, a new airline in Malaysia will appear. It's so much easier to start an airline when you don't have to buy the planes. Oh, and the passengers, having all been hiipmooootized, will emerge as cabin attendants and ground crew. Talk about a successful startup business plan! Shark Tank take notice!
4. Everybody in California will move to Nevada, Utah, Arizona, Texas and New Mexico, except sign twirlers and Starbucks baristas. And, the 11 Million illegal aliens who are thick in and around Lost Angeles, of course. Oh, and those commies in Sacramento who wouldn't want to leave their cushy jobs trying their very best to live our lives for us.
5. Al Gore will host another of his interminable anti-Global Warming (Climate change? Climate disruption? Climate chaos?) gatherings, featuring numerous Hollyweird celebricrats, and discover that the reason he's so warm is because he's been wearing an Irish cable knit sweater all these years. He will then ceremoniously doff the sweater and become the newest cheerleader for coal mining and oil fracking.
6. Scott Walker, famed Governor of Wisconsin, the home of unionization, who has almost single-handedly crushed the unions in the state where they first began, will announce for President of the United States. The thugs who run the AFL-CIO, SEIU, IBEW and the NEA will respond by performing hara-kiri on the steps of the Milwaukee Statehouse. Oh, and one must recall that The Chuckmeister (me!) predicted as far back as 2013, in the pages of this diminutive but worthwhile blog, that Walker would do exactly that. And, dear reader, that he would also win the nomination, and eventually the White House. At which time, I must offer up, we will once again have a True American Patriot as President. Which I confirm by so saying that we haven't had one of those guys for six years now.
7. Since we know that less than 3% of the public is gluten-intolerant, but that about half the public specifies gluten-free when ordering, I predict that some smart entrepreneur will come out with "extra gluten" products later this year. After all, what happens to all that gluten when it's left out of stuff the dummies buy?
8. I predict that shouty chef Gordon Ramsey will soon have his own TV network. He will appear every minute of every hour, every day, pontificating on each and every aspect of food preparation at the top of his expansive lungs. Vacationer-in-Chief B. Hussein Obama will become jealous that someone besides him has such massive media exposure and declare war on "extremist food preparers."
9. B. Hussein Obama will accidentally say "Islamic" and "terrorism" in the same sentence while doing another of his endless, droning, boring, off-putting, gut-wrenching, puke-encouraging, gag-me-with-a-spoon, daily...and sometimes hourly...speeches. Upon the realization that he's uttered such an inflammatory statement, he'll get down on his knees and bow repeatedly to Mecca. He'll not be forgiven, and a "fatwa" will be uttered on his life by some Imam somewhere. Thereafter, our TelePrompTer-in-Chief will order the spokesweenies who report to him to refer to "The War on Islamic Jihadist Terror" as "An effort to find and criminally prosecute those individuals who inflame the conscience of loyal Muslims everywhere by committing crimes and blaming it on the Religion of Peace they have unfortunately hi-jacked." White House journos will throw up in their mouths when they hear this tortured B.S.
10. Having grown weary of Islamic terrorism without any offsetting effort from the rest of the world to counteract it, a bunch of Baptists in the south will get together and form an army. They, along with a few Methodists, some Presbyterians and a couple of members of the Church of Christ will then rampage the entire Middle East, slashing and burning like nothing seen since the Crusades. The Islamonazis will give up and return home, promising to forever spend their remaining days as rug merchants and camel herders.
11. Having grown tired of seeing incessant, 24 hours-per-day, "Smokey the Bear" commercials on cable TV, some miscreant will track down Smokey and put a bullet in his tired old butt. The killer will then go out and start a forest fire just to make himself feel better. It will later be found that the murdering scoundrel was a member of PETA until they stiffed him for some work he performed throwing paint on starlets at movie premiers.
12. By late 2015 MSNBC will have lost so many viewers that they will be forced to change the name. To Faux Nooooze. As it will turn out, the folks who watch their "network," and I use that term loosely, won't notice.
13. I predict that Texas will become weary of propping up the American economy with jobs and taxes they will secede from the union. That will, according to our Vacationer-in-Chief, leave only 56 states.
14. I predict that some school principle somewhere will advocate for the students to bring cans of corn and peas to their school. What for? To hurl at would-be active shooters in the event one of them decides to whip out a weapon and violate that "gun free zone" thingie. Oh wait! A principle in Alabama just did exactly that. Yes, my friends, truth is waaaaaay stranger than fiction. I'd better hurry up and publish this blog posting before all of it comes to pass already.
15. And finally, the dimbulbs responsible for putting those "Gun Free Zone" signs at the entrance of every school in America will strike again. They will post the very same sign on I-40 and I-10 at the California border. The Lefties believe sincerely that if there were just more laws...or more signs...then criminals wouldn't disobey them. With 20,000 anti-gun laws on the books already, surely just a few more is all that's needed. Anyone thinking of bringing a gun into our once-Golden State after these signs go up will think better of the idea and leave it at home.
And so, my friends, and you are my friends, I close out this annual exercise in futility. I trust you'll enjoy a happy, healthy and fruitful 2015. And if not, then at least two out of the three...
Sunday, January 11, 2015
By now, even if you live in a dumpster behind the local 7/11, you know that a dimwit named Bill DeBlasio is the Mayor of New York City.
Yes, my friends, DeBlasio managed to somehow get elected Mayor in 2013 with 73% of the vote, despite the fact that he's a commie pinko dumbass liberal redistributionist weenie. Perhaps the fact that very few voted, and those that did probably voted six or seven times, and they were most likely welfare recipients, had something major to do with it.
And, since ascending to the office, he's managed to also offend and make enemies of the New York City Police Department. In fact, they accuse him of creating the environment into which the execution-style murders of two recently slain officers was drawn. This guy's a real dufus. Don't believe me? Here's some stuff you may not know about Bill DeBlasio. Prepare yourselves, kiddies. This is really awful stuff:
- Bill DeBlasio was born (we assume he was born, although it's quite possible he was hatched) Warren Wilhelm, Jr. For reasons known only to him, he first changed his name to the hyphenated Warren de Blasio-Wilhelm, adding his mother's maiden name. In 2002 he dropped the "Warren" and the "Wilhelm," and changed his name for a second time to what it is currently, "Bill DeBlasio." I would have thought "Fidel Castro" would have been a better choice, but that's just me.
- Billy was a big-time supporter of the Marxist Sandinista government in Nicaragua in the 1980's, a government that was backed by the communist Soviet Union and the good ol' Cubans. In fact, he visited there often, offering up his sweat and support to help them win their battle over democracy.
- While the Cold War was still white hot, and while Billy was still a student at New York University, the Soviets helped our boy Bill take a tour of their garden paradise back in 1983.
- Billy received his master's degree in International and Public Affairs at Columbia University. This is proof that you don't have to be smart to become educated. This, by the way, is the same institution of higher learning as attended by our erstwhile President, one Mr. B. Hussein Obama. Or he didn't, depending upon whether you believe his press clippings. But we'll never know for sure, because our Fourth Estate, the Mainstream Media, has planted its collective heels and loudly declined to investigate our Barry.
- Bill ran the campaign for reelection of one Representative Charlie Rangel in 1994. You remember Charlie. He's the guy that's managed to be a member of Congress since, oh, I don't know, the Crimean War. Despite being a tax cheat, and profiting by renting out his NYC rent-controlled apartment to his campaign, and writing off his Jamaican condo in contradiction with IRS laws, he also managed not to pay for parking his car in the House garage for more than 20 years.
- Bill decided to get married in 1994. He chose a black lesbian activist, of course, one Ms. Chirlane McCray. The newlyweds illegally honeymooned in Castro's Communist Cuba. Hmmm.
- Both of Billy's parents were certified, proud communists. That resulted in Ron Radosh, a leading historian at the time, to describe DeBlasio as a true, "red diaper baby."
So now we have the largest and arguably best city on Earth, and previously one of the safest (thank you, Rudy Giuliani), in the clutches of a commie campaign manager who ran on the major issue of taking his police department down a notch by ending the practice of "stop and frisk," which resulted in turning Times Square from a prostitute's parlor into the Disney theater district. That'll ought to work well, don't you think?
Saturday, January 3, 2015
It's now 2015 and time to post another of my little essays to the benefit of my tens of avid followers. Yes, my friends, it's time for me, the Chuckmeister, your faithful servant, to once again opine on one of the myriad topics upon which I'm considered an expert. And they are many. And the coming End Of The World is just such a topic. So, with apologies in advance to the one or two of you out there in the Digital Universe who may, for some reason or other, disagree with my conclusions, here goes:
Have you ever wondered exactly what will happen when this whole mess implodes? You know, when the Chinese and the Japanese and the English stop buying our once-great Country's debt and the food stamps stop flowing and the welfare checks stop magically appearing in inner-city mailboxes nationwide?
Or, perish the thought, when we stop buying our own debt (a little known fact: we print money 24/7 to buy back our own bonds, and then place them lovingly in a file cabinet in an office building in Silver Springs, Maryland, only to be removed and dusted off when we once again refinance that debt by printing ever more money, buying new bonds to replace the old ones, and once again filing them away).
Until just recently, that printing and buying and refinancing flurry has been to the tune of $85,000,000,000 a month!
I wonder the same thing. I wonder what will happen when our $18 Trillion national debt balloons to an ever larger, and finally unmanageable pile of IOUs. It's estimated that we, you and me, will owe in excess of Twenty One Trillion Dollars by the time our semi-retired, Vacationer-in-Chief packs up and departs the White House. If, in fact, He ever does (there are those who opine that He ((capital "H" satirically intended)) will declare martial law and cancel the elections, thus rendering Himself Emperor-for-Life, or maybe Kim Jung-Obama). By then we will owe an amount approximately equal to our Gross National Product. And that will put us in really bad company. We will be in the same sorry state as Greece, and that's not a good state in which to be.
No doubt you've read that the Chinese have just surpassed the U.S. in terms of the world's largest economy. We haven't been second on this list since Harding was President. Pretty soon Greece may leave us in the taillights as well.
By then our interest payments on the debt will be over $500 Billion a year. And that's a number quite large enough to cover the total cost of our military. Five Hundred Billion Dollars a Year! And likely as not, receipts to the Treasury will start to go down precipitously as our indebtedness goes up. And when the Fed stops trying to print its way out of trouble, and allows the interest rates to ramp up, our interest payments on the national debt will balloon! That, my friends, is what a degree in economics helps me foretell. If the Feds can no longer "prime the pump" with stimulus borrowings, or printings, or, as they call it, "quantitative easings," the productivity of America will go down. And our ability to repay our debt will suffer.
By the way, don't you love how the Feds can come up with such innocuous terms as "quantitative easing" for something so awful and nasty as printing $85,000,000,000 (that's Billion with a "B") a month? Me too.
And the result? Food stamps will no longer magically appear in the mailboxes of recipients all over the Nation. And welfare checks will stop. And Aid to Families With Dependent Children would cease. And Obamaphones will stop ringing. And all the Federal assistance that the "poor" count on would stop dead in its tracks. No more money to them, my friends. They might even have to sell one of their flat screen TVs to get by.
Need an example? Remember when Hurricane Katrina hit? Four out of five New Orleans residents had already beat feet and boogied from the Crescent City to Houston or Dallas or other points north by the time the torrential rains started. The same rains that had been predicted ad nauseum by the TV weathermen on every channel for a week. The only ones left were the welfare recipients who had to wait just a couple of more days for their checks to appear in the mail. We're talking 20% of the Big Easy's total population here. They couldn't afford to leave. And many of them died as a result.
So what, dear friends, do you think those similarly affected in the modern day will do?
The "Zombies" will be upon us. Zombies? For those of you who haven't had the good fortune to sit at the feet of the Chuckmeister and hear him (me!) pontificate on all things political, Zombies are the term I use for the mostly brain-dead loser-takers that sit around drinking Colt .45 and watching Jerry Springer reruns all day while awaiting the arrival of their beloved welfare check. Zombies is an all-inclusive term for the near-human flotsam that offers nothing to society, but takes so much from those of us who actually produce. We're the makers, they're the takers. And I think there's a good chance they're about to start taking, big-time.
I think they, the Zombies, will rampage. I think they'll hit the streets with pitchforks and torches looking for the "stuff" they've been getting for free from those who have it...you and me. Think of it: Third, fourth, even fifth-generation welfare recipients cut off, cold turkey, from the booze, the hot dogs, the crack, the cigarettes, the blow, the weed, the lobsters, and well, the turkeys they're counting on keep their inner-city bodies and souls together. And they'll come looking for it from the folks who have the most of it and are the least able to protect it.
Why? The lefty commie weenies in the Gummint have made it ever harder for you to realize and act on your 2nd Amendment rights. Or to even understand that you can - and should - do so. And thus, you're less prepared to protect yourself and your family when you, and they, need it most.
Example? Try to buy a gun in Chicago. The Democrats who have run the city for decades, decades (more than sixty years, to be exact), have made it nearly impossible for their citizenry to go out and buy a gun with which to protect themselves. Example: In order to be granted a license to buy a firearm there, one must undergo 18 hours of formal training at a professional gun range. The problem? There are no gun ranges in Chicago. That's why there are about 50 shootings every weekend there, and an average of 8 deaths. Upwards of 400 a year, in fact. And all those who don't possess guns can do is duck and cover.
D. C. is no different. And Philly. And Baltimore. And Los Angeles. Want a gun to protect yourself and those you love? It's a good idea to live in Texas, or Florida, or Oklahoma, or Arizona, or Idaho, or any one of 37 other states that feature elected leaders who can actually read and understand what the 27 little words in our 2nd Amendment to the Bill of Rights says. You know, especially the part where it says, "...the right to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed."
Want to buy a gun in Texas? Here's what you do. You go to your local gun store and...buy a gun. Or two, or six, or twenty.
Want to buy a gun here in the People's Republic of Taxifornia? You go to you local gun store. You take a test designed to determine whether you're actually safe enough, in the opinion of those of our elected leaders who more than likely have never even touched a gun, to own a gun. You pay the guy behind the counter $25 for the privilege of answering those 25 questions. You then pick out your gun. But only one. You may not purchase more than one gun per month in our state. Why? Because "they" don't want you to.
Next, you pay a $25 fee for the NICS-system background check. (NOTE: All of you who have been told you should loudly clamor and lobby your Congressweenies for "Universal Background Checks," be aware we already have them. We've had them for decades. Didn't know that? The lefties have been blowing smoke up your you-know-what.)
Okay, to continue, you now pay for the gun. You then get to go home and wait 10 days before you can go back to the store and pick it up. This "waiting period" is the Nanny State's effort to protect a mythical someone from you in case you want to buy the gun to kill them. I guess they figure you'll be over your presumed insane mad spell in ten days (why not twelve, or fourteen?). But what, I ask, are you to do if the Zombies are coming for your "stuff" and they just won't agree to wait ten days? Yeah, what?
That's why, my friends, I'm advocating that you immediately begin hoarding two things in anticipation of the cataclysmic happenings just around the corner; canned goods and ammunition. Oh yeah, first go out right now and buy all the guns you can get your hands on, which you'll need to shoot the ammo at the grungy folks who will be marauding your neighborhood and trying their best to Bogart your stuff.
And remember, the cops won't be there to protect you when you need them the most. If you'll go back to Katrina-time videos on YouTube, you'll discover that it was the cops who were doing most of the robbing and stealing and ripping off merchants during Katrina. They actually cleaned out all the inventory from a New Orleans Cadillac dealer's lot. Every single car. More than 50 of them. And that old saying once again holds sway: "When seconds count, the police are only minutes away." In the case of Katrina, certain cops managed to be several hundred miles away in their brand-new Cadillacs.
Is it guaranteed to be this way? No, it isn't. It just might be that America comes to embrace uber-Progressive politics, learns to love Obamacare, begins to embrace hyper-intrusive nanny state laws, and winds up enjoying not having a job and being a parasite on their fellow citizens. Oh, and the Gummint figures out how to keep on printing their way to economic Valhalla.
Or not! In any event, my friends, you've been warned...