The "Prague Spring."

With apologies to Shakespeare, me thinks Mr. Putin hath bitten off more than he can chew.  

I think my fellow Patriots might find two quotes of interest at about this time in history.  Quotes that those of our fellow citizens who've yet to experience the reality of war might find of interest also...

Isoroku Yamamoto, the Admiral in charge of all Japanese forces at Pearl Harbor and beyond, is credited with having said just after that attack, "I fear all we have done is awaken a sleeping giant."  And they surely did.  And I'm guessing one Vladimir Putin, the Russian despot dictator who just invaded Ukraine, will very soon learn that same lesson as well.

In spades...

Yamamoto was brilliant.  He was a Harvard-educated military scholar who spent several years living in and learning about America.  And learning to love it.  He then later found himself in the unenviable position of having to create Japan's invasion plan for Pearl Harbor.  He argued against it, vehemently, believing that it would serve to mobilize the American people.  He was also asked to draft an invasion plan for our Mainland.  He refused that order, giving us the other memorable quote for today's history lesson:  "You cannot invade the United States.  There would be a rifle behind every blade of grass."

Good ol' Isoroku!

He was right, of course.  He knew that firearms are a part of our culture, even enshrined in our Bill of Rights.  He knew that we have taken up arms in defense of our freedoms, and could be called upon to do so again.  Like a "national guard" consisting of more than 100 million Americans owning more than 500 million firearms.

And I would argue, the more we have the safer we get.  

Sorta' like the lady who was pulled over by the state trooper.  He looked in her car and saw 14 rifles, 5 shotguns, and 23 handguns.  "What are you afraid of, lady?" he asked incredulously?  "Not a damn thing!" she said.  "Not a damn thing..." 

Putin has invaded Ukraine.  I assume he did so, from three sides, with an overwhelming force of some 190,000 soldiers, with tanks and trucks aplenty, and Sukoi fighters filling the skies, expecting the Ukrainians to roll over.  

They haven't.  They are fighting back, tooth and nail, and I believe they will do for their country what we did for ours, and, like Ukraine, could be again; fight for our freedom in the face of overwhelming odds.  Remember that little skirmish with the British back in 1772?  "Shot heard 'round the world," and all that?

In preparation to welcome Vlad's forces, the Mayor of Kyiv handed out some 18,000 automatic rifles to anyone who wanted one.  And they ran out of rifles before they ran out of folks who wanted one.  Indicative of dedication, I'd say...

I was within one hour of those soldiers being mobilized as a part of the USAREUR "Fast-Action Force" in August, 1968.  Russia (USSR) had invaded another country (duh!), this time it was Czechoslovakia.  They rolled their big-ass tanks into Winceslas Square, that famous 500 year-old showpiece in downtown Prague (one of Europe's most beautiful).  The Reds had spun their tanks on their treads, around and around, destroying the 500 year-old slate blocks that made the Square so famous.*  Our Army had readied us for battle.  I was locked and loaded, packed up and ready to go to the airport and a waiting C-130, just waiting for the call.

They called it the "Prague Spring."

It didn't come, fortunately for me.  I continued on with my service in Europe and others handled the Commies in Prague, you'll recall.  But you can imagine if I were willing to go help defend Prague, which I was, just how much more those who live there would strive to do the same?  To protect their homeland?

And now just imagine how much those who live in Ukraine are striving to kill every single Russian they see?  I would if I were them.  And they will.  This is Russia's "blade of grass."  This is Russia's "sleeping giant."  This is Russia's "Red Dawn."   

You would have thought they'd have learned their lesson in Afghanistan... 

*    BTW, the Czechs refused to repair the damage in that famous square.  They left it, as it was, with velvet ropes surrounding it, as a shrine to the horrors of war.  And now the Russians, the same folks who invaded Prague lo those many years ago, is reliving history with its invasion of Ukraine.  Don't you think maybe it's time to remove Russia from the Group of  Nations?  With extreme prejudice?

The Chinese Charade...

Since the Olympics were being held in Communist China, for some strange reason, as in, 8 of the past 14 years (money?), I was reminded of a time when my wife and I and a couple dozen of our friends and neighbors* had the chance to visit that ancient, "inscrutable" country.

The ChiComs were hosting a series of invites to members of our Chambers of Commerce back then to come visit and bring their manufacturing opportunities.  We jumped at the chance when we learned the fare would be chump change, no doubt due to the Chinese' willingness to pay a hefty share.  As I recall the round-trip for a 10-day tour of Beijing, Honjou, Soujou and Shanghai, including all airfare, hotels, tours and tips, was only about $1,100 per person.  All inclusive!  Horeee Klap, we thought!  That was cheaper than staying at home!  Literally!  Now's the time to go if there ever was one, we thought.  And one specific memory from that trip has bubbled to the surface that might interest my tens and tens of Patriotic readers.

After some 8 days on an uncomfortable bus, visiting every silk farm and tea plantation along the way, and being forced to eat nothing but indigenous Chinese food, we were famished for some Western fare.  And so, when we saw a Hard Rock Restaurant's neon sign shining brightly in the distance, we let out a roar of glee!  Let us off, we shouted in unison!  Let us off! 

The little Chinese girl who'd been our hostess and guide for all of our tour was apoplectic; there's no way she could let us off that bus, she told us!  We were tightly controlled as to our whereabouts, and jumping ship, so to speak, was not on their agenda.  It was on ours, not theirs.  We demanded she open the door and she finally surrendered; we ran like school kids at recess to wrap our hands around a greasy cheeseburger.  Ahhh!  The symbol of America!  One of our best days in China was an evening at the Hard Rock.

Anyway, the next day was to be our last.  We learned from that same cute, smart, capable 21 year-old tour guide that she was a student at their university, and was engaged to be married that coming Saturday.  The day after we were to leave.  Knowing that, we quietly passed the hat amongst ourselves to raise a little "thankyou" contribution to help launch this young lady and her new hubby off to a grand and proper start.

The way we do things here in 'Murica, doncha' know.

As I recall the donations totaled $210.00.  Nothing much, certainly not in present-day terms.  Not even then, really.  Chump change.  To us, that is.  When our young lady tour guide opened the envelope we passed up to her she nearly passed out.  "No!," she said, she couldn't accept our little offering.  We insisted, believing that she was simply refusing once, even twice for politeness.  We were wrong.  She couldn't accept the donation, she told us.  Not then, not ever.  For if she did, she'd have to report it to the Government, and they'd confiscate it.  They'd then punish her for having accepted it.

And if she didn't tell them?  If the word got out, and it most assuredly would, she told us (there were cameras everywhere), she'd be kicked out of school and send to a reeducation camp.  So no thankyou, she told us, she couldn't accept.  I looked her in the face and told her that our entire ten-day visit to her ancient land was nothing but a charade.  Nothing but a thinly-disguised effort to hide the more insidious aspects of communism before a gullible American crowd.  We wished her and her intended good luck.

We told her she'd most assuredly need it.

So as you remember the communist Olympics, just recall that this is the same country that so micro-manages its citizens lives that they can't even take a thankyou donation.  Oh wait!  The P.M. of Canada just enacted martial law.  Unilaterally.  All by his lonesome.  And using same, he's seizing the bank accounts of thousands of legally protesting truckers.  And their trucks.  And threatening to kill their pets, if they're found in the trucks.  And maybe their children also.  You know how that socialism/communism thing goes when people start rebelling against authority.

A foretelling of things to happen here?  I'd say no.  The Chinese have disarmed their citizens.  A disarmed society is a compliant society, they've discovered.  And owning a gun in Canada is not a Right.  But it sure as Hell is here.    One Hundred Million of our American citizens are armed with more than 500 million firearms.  Gives you a warm and fuzzy feeling, now don't it? 

*  Call the David Salon in Newport and ask for Wayne.  He the best cutter in the entire O.C.  And while you're there, he can tell you all about our very memorable tour...

"Nuke the Bastards!"

  "Up with this I shall no longer put!"

                                                                                       The Chuckmeister

With apologies to Yoda, I'm up to HERE with the whole lot of them!

We've given them plenty enough time to fix whatever problems there are, and God knows there are bushels of them, and they STILL haven't fixed them!  None of them!  We pay them dearly and they STILL don't perform!  And THEY know who THEY are!

Okay, I'll stop with the capitalizations and the italics.  I know they're tantamount to screaming.  There's plenty to scream about, but hey...

They just engage in a daily televised circle jerk which produces plenty of heat, but absolutely no light.  We are America, Godddammmit!  We have all the tools to fix any problem, anywhere!  We've done it several times before, including twice during the last century.  For the entire planet!  We saved its bacon!  In spades!  And so I ask, rhetorically, have they used those multi-$Trillion Dollar tools we've given them to fix the problems that come along the pike?  Have they done what we hired them to do?

     Nooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!

All we ask is that folks accede to the necessary demands of a polite society.  And a polite planet.  But some, it seems, just refuse to do so!  We've bought them books and bought them books and all they do is eat the covers!  Some are just bad actors, and need to be reminded of their rightful place every now and again.  And reminded with "extreme prejudice," if doing so proves necessary to good social order.  Smacked around a bit, I say.  Kinetically.  That's military parlance for making things go "Boom!"  

That's just The Chuckmeister's view.  Perhaps you share it as well.

And I dunno' about you, but I've grown weary of the shenanigans of some of the folks with which we share our planet.  You know, the folks that do not comply with those rules and regulations of living in today's complicated world I spoke about before.  Folks that routinely bend, or even outright break the laws governing the actions of law-abiding people.  Those folks.  

Weary to the extent that I've decided to start an entirely new political movement which I hope will include you, my loyal fellow Patriot (see below for instructions as to how to forward your hefty, multi-$Donations).*  And that political movement shall forever after be known as...

              "Nuke The Bastards!" 

What do you do with a country which routinely violates its obligations to its neighbors?  After a polite warning, you just "Nuke the Bastards!"  The NoKos bothering you?  Nuke the Bastards!  Putin and that gas station masquerading as a country causing us trouble?  Nuke the Bastards!  China giving us grief?  Nuke the Bastards!  And if its Cuba or Venezuela or Guatemala or even Tonga (especially Tonga!), should give us even a moment of difficulty, after sufficient warning, I'd say we... 

NUKE THE BASTARDS! 

And how about those D.A.'s who refuse to prosecute those who break our laws and make living in today's America damn near impossible?  If a fragmentation grenade doesn't work, a "suitcase" nuke should suffice, I'd say!  A little bitty guy.  One that could take out only, say, maybe an office building.  Or maybe a square city block, if your enemy is spread out.  That kind.  After a phone call explaining our position, of course.  If the miscreant decides not to "see the light," after we drop some leaflets with warnings in 14 languages from a squadron of "black" helicopters, of course.  We'll just (ready for it?) Nuke the Bastards!

Whadda' think, fellow Patriots?  You like?  You think we might be able to get a few million of our fellow patriots together and marshal their collective forces and resources and take charge of the Tiller of Democracy?  Or perhaps just the threat of doing so would be sufficient to force the miscreants to crawl back into their holes and stop causing us grief.  BTW, that was called "Mutually Assured Destruction" back in the Cold War days, and it formed the basis of our Cold War military effort against the Soviets for more than 30 years.  They send a nuclear missile our way, we sent 40 nuclear missiles their way.  They cross in mid-air.  Boooooomski!  (That's Russian for "Boom.").  World over!  Buh Bye!  We had the balls to threaten to do it then, why not now?  Or is our current Administration so feckless and weak and spineless that no other country would believe it?    

(Wow, did that sound dramatic!)  

Or maybe we could just send them an email (or several million emails) expressing our displeasure.  Or stop by and see them in person.  Let's let our "leaders" know that we're not at happy with the way they've been playing with our toys.  And if they don't clean up their act, and make our lives more worth living, which is what we pay them for, we just might take to the torches and the pitchforks.  Or any more modern weaponry we might have laying around.**  

And you know what could happen then..............

*      Send all non-tax deductible donations to "The Chuckmeister" at Fortress Chuckmeister, Murrieta, Taxifornia, 92563.  The Postal Person will find me...

**    As a reminder, some 100+ million of your fellow Americans own just short of 500 million firearms.  And certainly don't wish to be called upon to use them.  But I believe could reliably be counted on to do so were to the situation to dictate...

Just tell them they identify as Black!

I find it rather amusing that the Left-Wing Media (you know who you are!) calls the truckers involved in a kerfuffle with our neighbors to the north as "anarchists."  And "insurrectionists."  And "traitors."  

Yet, for some strange reason, that same MSMedia (all but Fox News and a couple of others) had not a word to say about the thousands of mostly Black rioters who burned down court houses and killed policemen and rioted and pillaged and plundered for most of 2019. 

The damage?  13,000 buildings burned or destroyed in more than 50 cities.  1,300 cops shot or wounded, 13 killed and more than $1.5 Billion Dollars of ruination visited upon innocent citizens.    

Those supposed "journalists" either ignored the nightly insurrection, or they called it "mostly peaceful," as one CNN dimbulb stated.  On the air.  While a building was burning furiously in the background.

Pathologically, incoherently, unabashedly, unashamedly stupid.  And we normal citizens know it.  

And now the authoritarian Canadians (who knew?) are about to call in the dogs and force the trucks to move.  The MSM has their plebes whipped up and now, and its time for the truckers to be punished.  Sort of like the peaceful protesters on January 6th.  Because some of them rioted on January 6th, all of them had to be punished.  Many of those yet to be tried or convicted are still languishing in the rat-infested Capitol Jail.  So how do we stop this?  How do we get these jackbooted thugs to stand down?  

Just as a reminder, San Fran Nan Pelosi carries the keys to the Capitol Jail... 

But back to Herr Trudeau's particular problem.  All the truckers have to do is declare that they all identify as Black!  Viola!  Problem solved!  The Left-wing mob can't come after them if they're "Black."  They can sit there until the cows come home and nobody can do a damn thing! Because the Leftoid dimbulbs have so weaponized all forms of public discourse that they now find themselves completely hamstrung.  They can't move a muscle.  And I find it delicious to watch!

Remember, you scratch a Liberal, you uncover a fascist...

So here's my advice to those peaceful truckers.  Start identifying as Black immediately!  And also as gay, if it helps any.  Who knows, these room temperature-I.Q. authoritarians are so eaten up with the woke "progressiveness," it just might be Spring before they can come up with a reasonable plan of action.

And in the meantime?  Maybe somebody in charge Up There will figure out that all they have to do is stop the mandate!  Have they forgotten that?  Just pull the idiotic vaccine mandate and everybody goes home.  Or have they got a case of the butthurt so bad that their egos won't let them?*  

I guess we'll all find out...

*   I'll supply the Preparation H if it would help...

White Congressional Caucus...

I called the Capitol Building today looking for some information.

I wanted to speak with the official who handles the White Congressional Caucus, I told the operator, after fighting my way through their interminable phone tree.  She told me there was no White Congressional Caucus.  Whoa!  There must be a mistake, I told her.  There's a Black Congressional Caucus, I said, and an Asian-Pacific Congressional Caucus.  There's even an American Indian Congressional Caucus, and an Indian-Subcontinent Caucus, fergodsake.  

Which is chock full of Indians I presume.   

In fact, you might find it hard to believe that there are more than 200 official Congressional caucuses,* including some of the most inane subject matters one could imagine.  Cannibis Caucus?  Yes.  Latino-Jewish Caucus?  Oh yeah.  A Kurdish-American Caucus?  What would we do without it?  Even a Bourbon Caucus?  Yes, indeed.  

So there just has to be a White Congressional Caucus, I told her, if for no other reason than... "equity."  You know, that gilt-edged word that's somehow representative of all the "Progressive Left" yearns to attain in this life.  With no expectation of the next one, I would assume.

But no, the operator said, in her tired, mid-Atlantic drawl, the Whites are left out.  Once again.  I'm getting a complex!  Do I have the heartbreak of psoriasis?  Are my underarms disarming?  Halitosis, maybe?  If not, there should be no reason why the majority of America is not represented.  You know, the very same reason some are clamoring for a Black woman to be anointed to the Supreme Court.  

Equity.  

Taking from some...to give to others.  The redistribution of wealth.  Karl Marx would be proud.  Sort of like the Chinese are doing to the Uighurs every single day.  While they force them to make your tennis shoes.  For 8 of the past 14 years our President has been sort of "Black."  Sort of.  And for all 8 of them he dragged around a decrepit antiquated reprobate V.P. who's forgotten most of what he's ever known.

Which wasn't a Hell of a lot.

So yes, we have an LGBTQ Caucus, and a Colorado River Caucus, and a Digital Arts Caucus, but we have as yet no Congressional White Caucus I'm sorry to report.  It would be too, ummm, "representative," I guess.  You know, like our Founding Fathers intended.  

Assuming anyone cares... 

*     Google "Congressional caucuses" when you have a chance.  Then pour yourself an adult beverage, sit back and prepare to be both enlightened and disturbed..    

Your $99.00 Special!

 You're in luck, fellow 'Muricans!

I, The Chuckmeister, your Scribe Without Portfolio, and most of all, your friend and mine, am now ready to announce my new $99.00 Monthly Special.

What's so special about it, you might ask?

Well now, thanks for asking.  If you've grown weary of those incessant T.V. PSA's (Public Service Announcements) that ask you for "just" $9.00 or $11.00 or $19.00 a month to solve any number of social ills, sit up straight in your chair and pay attention.  Just simply call the 800# below and I'll take care of those pesky monthly little donations you've decided to take upon yourself.  So leave it to The Chuckmeister and I'll send your money off to (pick one from the following)...

     *  Stopping the Polar Bears from drowning.  BTW, Polar Bears can swim, unaided, for 60 miles or more, but hey, you know, Polar Bears...

     *  Providing homes for our "Wounded Warriors."  Whether cops or firemen or our military vets, WE'RE being asked, straight out, to pay for homes to park them.  (BTW, don't you think it's the obligation of the city or county or state or country for which the wounded warrior was fighting a fire or an enemy while wounded to pay for his or her (or its) lodging now that he's/she's/it's been wounded?).  Well, don't you?

     *  And those cuddly little puppies and kitties which are starving unless you send the ASPCA a bunch of money each month.  It's a three minute-long appeal to your heartstrings, and since the ASPCA's executive ride around on private jets, it must be effective.  (BTW, since we pay the state, county and municipality to take care of these things in our taxes, why do we have to pay for it once again?)

     *  And let's not leave out those starving elderly Jews in Jerusalem who will die unless you send them $11.00 a month.  As one of the richest and most successful democracies on Earth, I frankly doubt they need it.  Something tells me not all of those donations go to buy perogis.  No BTW's necessary...

So here's my announcement, all you patriotic Liberals out there!  Instead of succumbing to that Liberal grief and sending each of these "charities" $11.00 here and $19.00 there, wasting entire hours licking stamps and sealing envelopes, just send me $99.00 a month and I'll personally distribute it to all your chosen recipients.

You can count on me.

Yes, my friends, and you ARE my friends, just trust me to act on your behalf to handle your affairs and redistribute your unbounded wealth so you can focus your energies on more important things.  Like Global Warming.  And defunding the police.  And sending a ballot to every man, woman and child in America.  And watching every Joe Rogan episode trying to catch him saying the "N" word.

So just call 1-(800) SUC-KERS today!  You'll be virtue signaling forevermore! 

NFL/SCOTUS...

As we head into this Super Bowl weekend, I'm sort of amazed by the NFL's much-publicized, anti-hate and anti-racism program.  

That is true in spite of some rather startling facts:  The National Football League is made up of about 1,600 active players, on 32 different teams.  And 73.1% of them are Black.

They're virtue signaling with little slogans on the backs of their millionaire players' helmets.  They paint enormous slogans in their end zones.  "End Hate!"  "Stop Racism."  The signs blare out the price what their hostage takers demanded that the NFL's commisar pay.  It's transparently pathetic.   

The NFL makes White folks, and the Chinese, and Japanese, and Tibetans, and Native American "indigenous personages," and those from Burkino Faso, whatever race they are, who long to play professional football, fight over only 26.9% of the available slots.  

Like fighting over table scraps.

Isn't that the very definition of "racism?"

However, in addition to being rather over-weighted with Black players, for whatever reason, it seems their management would like to complain, loudly, that Black folks are somehow being mistreated, maligned, malnourished and hornswoggled.  

Despite the fact that the starting wage for a 89th round draft choice is now, gulp, $705,000 per annum.  Playing little boy games.

So, in spite of the horrendous odds against making the Big Leagues in football, if you're not Black, you have another strike against you.  Which is another thing that amazes me, and analogous to my little NFL comparison.  Sort of like all the really good jurists out there who've been dreaming of being called up someday to the Supreme Court.  All those district court judges and municipal court judges and superior court judges and American Idol judges who've been working their entire lives to be found worthy of a seat on the Supreme Court now find themselves, sort of like White players in the NFL, and the Uighurs in China, the wrong flavor.  Too bad, so sad.  

Joe O'Biden's handlers want a Black Woman for their SCOTUS pick (I wonder if he even remembers filibustering Black women judges on two separate occasions while a Senator?  I wonder if the Republicans will bring that up?).  Not the most qualified jurist, just a Black Woman.  Now, whoever that woman might be, if she's confirmed, she will go forth with an asterisk next to her name, forever.  For the very first time, ever, not the most qualified judge, not even the first Woman of Color, just the first Black Woman.  

Do you think Black people will reward him, or any Democrat, with their votes solely because he appointed somebody because of their melanin content?  Which, I might add, is why our early White plantation owners chose their ancestors!  

You know the only difference between the Boy Scouts and the President and his puppermasters?  The Boy Scouts have adult leaders...

Word Salad...

 "Now is the time for us to do what we've been doing.  And it's that time, every day"

                                                                                        Kamala Harris, Vice President

The above quote from our prospective Commander-in-Chief gave me pause.  Not "paws," pause.  And it caused me to ponder our present circumstance as a society and to decide if I could get behind Mzzz. Harris' plans.  As in, to stay the course.  Keep on keeping on, as they say.   

While doing so I just visited the General Store.  It was time for my run to get provisions.  You know, flour, beans, coffee, etc.  I throw ol' Shep in the Jeep and go down from the mountain top once a month or so to stock up.  And while there, I happened to note that the price of a package of pre-cooked Oskar Meyer bacon, 2.3 ounces, was $9.99.

I looked around for the Candid Camera.  It wasn't there...

Yes, I'd like to use this blog posting of mine, read with viggah by tens and tens of rabid news-seekers, to send a message along to Mzzzz. Harris.  Could you please stop "...doing what (you've) been doing?"  

Bacon was about $5.00 a pound when we were asked to give the Gubmint "two weeks to spread the curve."  Now?   We cannot afford to buy a pound.  We have to buy bacon like the cocaine addicts buy their nose candy.  By the eight ball.  Maybe there'll be a guy with a long black coat next to a street lamp who'll sell bacon by the strip to the peasants.

So here's the Bottom Line, as they say:  Prices up 15% overall, inflation up 10.6%, roast beef up 22.1%, pork up 20.3%, and bacon, as we said, up 19.4%.  More than 60,000 restaurants have permanently closed so far, but then again, who's counting? 

Oh yeah, and gas up more than 50% in some areas.  Here in Taxifornia,  it's at least $4.80 a gallon, and as much as $8.00 depending upon your location.

I have a 7' tall Jewish friend from Minneapolis who's the smartest guy I know.  And I'm sure he'd say the same thing about me.  And I'm thinking we'd probably both be wrong.  Anyway, I told him when all this all started that Liberals have to buy gas, too.  And when they start paying through the nose for gas, what they voted to have happen, an end to fracking and no more oil, they'd quietly start changing their minds when $5.00 a gallon gas became a reality.  He told me I was wrong.  He's even more Conservative than am I, so he can be forgiven for being unforgiving.  I told him to hide in the bushes and watch this fustercluck unfold.  It would be delicious, I told him...

BTW, I know he's not really 7' tall.  But he's the tallest Jewish genius I know, so I thought I'd take artistic license here.  He'd be a genius even if he was Polynesian.  And a midget.  I think he's been wrong twice this year.  The other time he thought he was wrong but he was really right...

And so, in summation, Kamala, baby, sweetie pie, could you your friends back there in Foggy Bottom please just stop doing what you've been doing?

Pretty please?  

"Billy Beer"

Only those of us now collecting Social Security are old enough to remember the Jimmy Carter presidency and the particular cross that he had to bear.

Actually, with Jimmy Carter as President we ALL had a cross to bear, but that's another story...

Those of us permitted by our chosen news sources to learn that Joe O'Biden has a son named Hunter (all those other than ABC/CBS/NBC/PBS//NYT/WaPo/CNN/MSNBC), and that this son has less than a stellar reputation (say wha?), know that this is his "Billy Beer" moment.  As in, the method Jimmy Carter's brother chose to exploit the fame that came from having a brother as President of these here Eeeuuunited States.  

Jimmy, you see, had a brother named Billy.  A big, round, goofy, overhauls-wearing peanut farmer.  The Carter gang was from Plains, Georgia.  Where there's nothin' but "good ol' boys."  Not very small old boys (they're all sort of round, too), but good, nonetheless.

And Billy was still back home in Plains, hanging out by the local filling station, drinking beer and playing grab ass with his buddies, while his brother Jimmy was POTUS up there in Washington, D.C.

Screwing up America, as I mentioned.

Now, one must first remember that those were days were a bit less filled with news than is now the case.  There were three channels, and they each presented to us a half-hour of news each evening, almost none of which was detrimental to a sitting Democrat president (duh!).  So many of us didn't know "Jimmuh" had a brother, and even less knew that brother was a grade-A, room temperature-I.Q. scoundrel.  

Imagine, if you can.  This was a kinder, gentler era.  People did not conduct themselves in a way which might bring shame upon themselves or their families.  Things it seems some of us now choose to do routinely.  So when Billy Carter launched his beer brand, "Billy Beer," the less Liberal parts of the nation got the butt hurt in response!

It took some time before Billy could be dissuaded from selling beer to leach off his brother.  But it happened.  And the story was allowed by the Corporate Media to die a slow death...

Hunter Biden, as some of you well know, was Joe's "black sheep."  His brother Beau was the fair-haired brother who got all the accolades.  But when he died of a brain tumor, Hunter decided to console his widow.  By screwing her.  Repeatedly.  While he was still married.

He then decided to get his life in order and joined the Navy.  But he was unceremoniously awarded a "Bad Conduct Discharge" because of his crack addiction.  Hmmm.  

I'm leaving a lot out here, but Hunter goes on to cut deals with Chinese and Ukrainian and Rumanian government officials which can be described only as influence peddling.  A new book just out puts the number at $31,000,000 he illegally and unconstitutionally vacuumed up for Joe and the entire family.  Of course, Joe provided him with official U. S. government jets to arrange these deals while he was Vice President.

Hunter then stars in a porn flick while putting hundreds of thousands of $'s of cocaine up his nose.  He then took a shine too a stripper in Arkansas, knocked her up, then disavowed her baby.  She had to take him to court to force him to take legal responsibility!

Oh yeah, almost forgot.  He illegally bought a gun by lying on the official background check form, which is a felony (A. G. Garland, we're waiting...).  While flying high on coke on night, his girlfriend (a different one) got scared and dumped his gun in a trash container outside a supermarket.  Apparently the Secret Service dug through the trash to try and (unsuccessfully) find it!  Since Hunter Biden was not legally afforded Secret Service protection, that raises more questions than it answers. 

And then there's Hunter the Artist.  He throws some paint at a canvas or two and sells them to Daddy's donors for $500,000!!!  And they do so anonymously!  Talk about tax avoidance!  Where did I go wrong!

Anyway, I'm just sitting here thinking that I made a big mistake by not getting into Gubmint service.  I thought I'd be sacrificing income opportunities.  Dumbass me!

Anyway, to summarize a bit, I'm thinking that O'Biden would stomp puppies to death to have Jimmy Carter's problems instead of his own.  Especially because Jimmy's are over; Joe's are likely just beginning...  

A Major League Scam...

Less than 2% of all new cars sold in America are plug-in electrics.  And most of those (67%) are sold on either coast and in the upper Midwest.

Yet, more than 80% of all car ads on TV are for electric cars.

Do you find that statistic interesting?  I did.  And so I did a little digging, as obnoxious older folks who like to write and have plenty of time on their hands, and are in need of a hobby tend to do.  Like moi.  That's French, for "me."  The same kind of folks you hear yell, "Get off my lawn!"

That kind.

And so I decided to follow up on my recent blog posting about all the reasons why you shouldn't buy an electric car, with a little more info on this whole Major League Scam.  You may not call it a scam.  I call it a scam.  Let me tell you why...

First, electric cars are little more than a metal box, a bunch of batteries wired together in series, a continuously-variable auto transmission, and an electric motor to use all that stored energy to make the box "go."  Except when it doesn't.  Allow me to elucidate...  

What follows is a fairly complete listing of all the new plug-in electric cars offered here in America that are within the price range of ordinary Americans.  The list does not include the Porsche Taycan ($154,000) or the Mercedes-Benz ELQ ($149,000).  If you can afford those cars, you likely don't need my advice on cars.  And you probably aren't wasting your time reading this blog.

Anyway, before I bore you with the summary, here's the list:

     -  Chevrolet Bolt, MSRP $31,995, Expected Range: 259 miles
     -  Chevrolet Bolt, EUV, $33,995, 247 miles

     -  Ford Mustang Mach-E, $44,595, 305

     -  Ford Mustang, Mach-EGT, $61,600, 270

     -  Hyundai Kona Electric, $35,225, 258

     -  Hyundai Ioniq 5, $45,000, 300

     -  Kia EV 6, $58,500, 265

     -  Kia Nero EV, $40,265, 239

     -  Nissan Leaf, $28, 375, 226

     -  Nissan Ariya, $40,000, 300

     -  Polestar 2 (Volvo), $47, 200, 265

     -  VOlvo XC40 Recharge, $56,395, 208

     -  VW ID.4, $41,190, 260

     -  Tesla Model 3, $41,190, 353

     -  Tesla Model Y, $41,190, 326

These cars range in price from around $28,000 to more than $61,000.  Their "range" in terms of miles, the second number above, is from 226 to 353.  Notice, these cars report their anticipated range in miles.  Gas operated cars don't need to do that because you can buy gas on every street corner; the nemesis as yet for electrics.  They have as yet few charging stations nationwide.  And most of those are located on either coast and the upper Midwest.  Thus causing a disease particular only to electric car owners called, "Range anxiety."  

And also, this price range is pretty heady for cars that cannot compete distance-wise with a new Mitsubishi Mirage, $14,325, 43 mpg!  With a 9.2 gallon tank, you can cruise for over 400 miles, pull off the freeway, buy some more of that "motion lotion," and proceed ahead on.  

And you can use some of the $25,000+ still in your saddlebags to pay for the gas.  For the rest of your freakin' life!  And it will keep you warm in winter!*  And go just as far!  Something you can't say about electrics.

Oh yeah, and electrics depreciate much faster than "real" cars.  This could leave you with a Tesla you paid $130,000 for, which is now selling for $78,400, and will be worth bupkus in just a few short years.  And they will continue to do so until the Public decides to embrace them as main-stream, which they have as yet to do.  And I don't think they will, especially between the coasts.  Where they drill for oil and don't have charging stations on every corner and know that electricity doesn't come out of the ether.

Something the Coastal Elites have yet to learn... 

*  Electric cars can lose as much as 30% of their charge and effectiveness in sub-zero weather, forcing the driver to choose between either warmth and range.  

"The Economy of Souls"

I've been studying religion for more than fifty years.  And now that I'm pretty close to learning just how much I've learned from those studies (a little dark humor, there), I have some observations based upon that lifetime of research:

Birth, life, death, repeat.  The "Spin Cycle of Life,"   I call it.  All of us are engaged in this little process.  None of us understand it.  I will endeavor to henceforth try...

     I have a theory I call the "Economy of Souls."  Haven't read about it anywhere else, just mine alone.  It means I'm thinking my God wouldn't be so wasteful as to just toss souls away when no they're no longer needed (like the ones which might be assigned to aborted babies, for instance?)  

Sort of like the Hindus, I'm kind of thinking souls must be handed down, from life to life, maybe until, as the Hindus believe, they're either worn out from being mistreated and dispatched to "down there," or they've achieved "Nirvana."  Which, BTW, I achieved for most of 1968 while stationed in Germany.  And I did it without any outside influence from any deity (I was told it was a pretty good year, BTW, but I couldn't say for sure).

Did I mention I pretty much single-handedly won the Cold War?  No?  Another story, perhaps...  

Anyhoo, I'm thinking that the theoretical "spark of life" gets infused into us, someway somehow, and everything else that lives, and "poof!"  We're ALIVE!  And then we're born.  Then we grow up and then old, and then we die.  And then the whole thing repeats itself like the CCTV loop at your local 7/11.  Except maybe you get smarter?  Or wiser?  Or more willing to accept God?  Assuming there IS a God?  Don't know.  Beyond my pay grade.  In fact, I don't HAVE a pay grade, 'cause I'm no longer employed.  Bringing me closer to actually checking out that theory of mine...

So I figure it this way (pay attention here folks):

     -  There's either a God, or there isn't, period.  And we won't find out which until we die.  Unless, of course, there's no God, in which case we won't find out at all.  As in, "lights out."  "Buh Bye!"  You'll become a wisp in the wind, never to be heard from again.  That old dust-to-dust thing.  A memory.  Nothing more, nothing less.  

You buy that?

And furthermore, it seems to me that once you die, that "spark" of life has left you.  The remains will either molder in the grave, or be roasted until well done by your local crematorium.  But in either case, it seems rather wasteful to prepare and bury a no-longer-needed hunk of withering protoplasm.  Expensive embalming, expensive casket, expensive burial.  The $Bucks needed for such a wasteful enterprise should rightfully be spread among the heirs.  So they can frolic all thither and yon.  Trust me, they'll need it more than the "dearly departed."   

Think about it: we've been doing this arcane practice since time immemorial.  If we hadn't, we wouldn't need archeologists, now would we? 

It also seems that this rather Medieval practice is performed for the living, not the dead.  As a reminder, the dead...are DEAD!  A pretty casket and the dearly departed in his finest suit is not going to change things.  So I'm planning to ask those I leave behind to just ship my useless hull off to the local cremator guy.  I'll no longer be needing it.  In fact, I'll be damned happy to be done with it.  (Ooops!  Remove the "damned.")  I've had nothing but pain and torment from all sorts of physical abnormalities for more than 25 years.  Aches, pains and torment shall be at an end once I croak.  Good riddance, I say!  I even have a neurological disease I cannot even pronounce!  Don't feel sorry for me when that time comes.  Feel sorry for YOU, if you must, and I thank you in advance if you feel the need, but I ask that you don't.  Death is what it is.  Just a part of life.  

That last part...

Oh, presuming once again that there's a God, you'll go on to your reward, whatever that is.  But I'm thinking I'd rather have that "reward" than to do without it.  Especially if "lights out" is my other choice!  So I'm therefore on the side of God unless or until I find out my belief in Him is misplaced.  And guess what, fellow Pilgrim?  I won't find that out unless or until there's a God!  And if I do, I will have guessed right!  

Got it?

"Old Age"

A friend asked me the other day how it feels to be "my age."    

I guess he knew I'd just cracked through another major birthday hurdle and this must have triggered his curiosity.  The same sort of curiosity I see on the face of those archeologists on TV when they uncover a particularly interesting artifact.  The same look you see on the faces of entomologists as they prepare to stick a pin through a lepidoptera.  

"How do I feel," you ask?  I feel just fine, thank you," I said.  

"Well, except for the standard aches and pains of those who are three score-plus.  And in my case, since I've gone through four spinal-fusion surgeries, I have an additional set of places to hurt.  As my doctor says, I've been fused "From a*shole to appetite."  Funny, that guy.

In addition to making it difficult to pick up anything off the floor smaller than a $20.00, I have some extra aches and pains that ordinary, near-octegenarians thankfully don't yet possess.  

Oh, and my ulcer, did I mention that?  It acts up every now and again and makes life a living hell!  Imagine having a raging hole in your stomach which nothing, apparently, can fix?  The trusty bottle of Ensure I down every morn coats the old tummy, fortunately, so I can stagger through life.  That and hefty doses of medicines with long, expensive names.  They help a lot also.  

Yeah, and that terminal neurological ailment my doctor tells me I have.  It's terminal, he assures me, he just cannot tell me when the guy with the scythe will show up.  It's been "terminal," I might mention, since I received my diagnosis more than two years ago, and it's still "terminal" today.  It's sort of like being told by your pilot that you're on final to your destination to the "terminal," and you'll be descending from 30,000 feet shortly.  Except you don't know the altitude of your destination airport.  Is it in Lhasa Apso, Tibet?  At 18,500 feet, in which case I'll be dead by Spring?  Or is it Oklahoma City, at 1,100 feet, in which case I can expect to live maybe until the next General Election?

Please God, I pray.  

It's kind of like hearing that a major storm is expected, but you don't know when it'll be showing up.  You have to keep your bags packed, though, just in case.  I was a Boy Scout.  "Be Prepared," was our motto.  God, I sure try to be.  And God, I sure try to be...  

Annnd, let us not forget my bi-lateral polyneuropathy.  Those are $3 words for "Burning, tingling, loss of feeling and numbness associated with severe neurological impairment," in both legs, below the knees.  That just means it's always like your legs are just waking up from falling asleep and it's naggingly painful.  You sometimes want to stab yourself with an icepick.    

Yeah, problematic, to be sure.

And because of the continual, nagging pain I'm forced to take heavy-duty painkillers.  The ones that our Gubmint tells us everybody in Kentucky has died from.  Except I'm one of the folks who actually have to take them or go postal in the extreme.  I actually have to go visit a pain doctor every single month so that he can verify that I'm still alive and in pain, and that I still need to keep on taking these dangerous, addictive, awful drugs.  Can you say demeaning? 

However, as I said to my friend who asked the other day, "I feel just fine!  Thanks so much for asking!"