So yesterday was Indigenous Peoples Day when we celebrate the diversity that comes from digging for tubers in the dirt with sticks. Or something like that. A typical celebrant posted to Twitter an image of a gorgeous Indian Princess flipping the camera the bird with a predictable message directed at Christopher Columbus. The Native Babe was wearing makeup, had her eyebrows perfectly sculpted, delicate silver jewelry and elegant clothes made in a factory. Her teeth were perfect and white.
That's exactly the image you think of when you think of the pre-Columbus American Indians, isn't it?
I made a snarky reply, but upon further reflection, I could have come back with a two-word response.
Kumeyaay orthodontia.
Oh yeah, I'll bet dentistry with rocks as surgical implements was a big hit with the locals here in San Diego, circa 1490 AD. If that isn't a thing of great pride to throw in the face of the descendants of the Euro-invaders, nothing is.
Welcome to the office of Dr. Mokopa. Please be seated, the doctor will be with you soon.
A few thoughts on the reactions to the Las Vegas Massacre.
Bump Stocks
I didn't know what a bump stock was until a week ago. Now, right-wing pundits I respect are telling me that they're the only things keeping Barack Obama from invading my house and eating our dogs. Meanwhile, a gun expert says the things are a novelty at best as they make the gun terribly inaccurate. The only real way to use them is to spray bullets into crowds.
Why are they legal?
Motives and Evil
Andrew Klavan, whom I adore, penned a very unusual piece of idiocy on the matter of Las Vegas and gun control.
Mollie Hemingway said something on the Special Report panel that was so compassionate and illuminating, it cooled my outrage. "We're pretending we're having a debate about gun control," Mollie said, "but we're really having a debate about the nature of evil and whether a big enough government can contain it." It was an observation so womanly wise that a mere news discussion couldn't address it. The rest of the panel ignored her and the talk immediately turned to the utterly meaningless effort to ban bump stocks.
But of course, she was right: that's exactly what we're really talking about. The left sneers at conservatives for "doing nothing," but conservatism understands the tragedy of the fallen world: we can only choose between freedom with evil and slavery with evil, because no government is large enough to make evil go away.
One part is right, a government large enough to prevent all evil turns us into slaves. The other part is wrong and stupid. Bump stocks should be banned and taking them away isn't going to lead to progressive overseers whipping us.
Motives and Guns
Mark Steyn, another pundit I love, went full nut job on the topic of the motives of the killer. He approvingly quoted someone who said that the lack of a manifesto or a past history of extremism meant that the guns themselves were the message. The guy had a pile of guns, all bought legally. His massacre was a deliberate gift to the gun control crowd.
So a man who is that much against gun violence killed 50+ and wounded hundreds to prevent gun violence? Are you insane?
My explanation: He shot the people and kept quiet about it because that's what the voices in his head told him to do.
Gun Control
Finally, we come to the left. I won't bother to quote all the hate-filled screeds and cries for Second Amendment advocates to die, die, die. Instead, the message I hear is that the same people who want to prevent Ben Shapiro and Charles Murray from speaking on college campuses promise that they won't go full tyranny on us if we just disarm peacefully.
Right. We'll get back to you on that.
Conservatives reply to Las Vegas: You can have my Hummel 150mm schwere Panzerhaubitze auf Geschützwagen III when you pry it from my cold, dead fingers.
... not because the rides were bad or late, but because of what it allowed me to do.
I went to a bachelor party last night where we hit a pair of craft beer bars. The gang went on to a third and maybe more, but I bailed after two. Drinks were bought, the conversation was interesting and fun was had. Too much fun. Because I had taken Uber instead of driving, there was effectively no limit to what I could consume other than biochemistry. While I enjoyed the company, I didn't enjoy having too much to drink. I would have had a better time if I'd stopped at two pints.
Therein lies the trouble with Uber. It removes the guard rails completely. It's not just Uber, of course, it's taxis, Lyft and all the other ways of getting home without driving. A designated driver changes the equation because it means at least one member of the crew is stone cold sober and can act as a friendly conscience and try to prevent you from imbibing too freely. After all, it's his car that's going to get trashed if everyone is completely blotto.
While I love craft beer and having a good time with the lads, this just isn't my scene. The last time I did something like this was about 30 years ago. I'm thinking another 30-year hiatus would be a good idea.
.. and I'm going to Uber it for the first time. Old dogs, new tricks.
We know the couple very well and love them both. We laughingly call the bride-to-be our daughter and she calls us mom and dad. They're both a lot of fun.
So anyways, the guy calls me up while I'm shampooing the carpets in the middle of a Santa Ana. He tells me we're going beer-bar-hopping. I replied, "It's about a hundred degrees here and I'm cleaning the carpets because my wife asked me to do it. It's not too late! Save yourself! Don't make the same mistake I did!"
"She's right here in the room and can hear what you're saying."
This is a follow-up to yesterday's post and kind of an endorsement for libertarianism.
Social media after a tragedy like Las Vegas: Someone you don't know does something horrible to someone else you don't know and you start yelling orders at other people you don't know, demanding they take action or change their opinions about something.
Really?
How about if we just try to help if we can and do as little yelling at each other as possible.
(Says the guy with the blog and Twitter account that routinely yells demands at people he doesn't know.)
... is not a time to whip out our favorite political hobby horses. It is a time for falling into the arms of the Eternal Love.
If you think this finally makes your point about laws and regulations or illustrates the need for liberty and rights, get over it. It doesn't. It shows the need for love, forgiveness and understanding.
And if some crazy blogger who uses his deceased cat as a pen name isn't enough, here's St. Teresa of Calcutta accepting the Nobel Peace Prize. If that's not a mic drop, nothing is.
We love to throw parties and I love to cook Cajun, Creole, Southern and Caribbean food. During my Dixie Adventure a few months back, I noticed all the signs for the different bayous and decided I needed to name our house the Catican Bayou, at least for parties. I'm going to have a wooden sign made for it that I can hang up whenever we have a bash. I've been playing around with Adobe Illustrator and I've come up with a design I like.
What do you think?
Update: Yankee though he is, Ohioan at Heart made a good suggestion. He said "The Catican Bayou" just doesn't sound right. Dropping the definite article might be better. When I was researching these signs, I noticed that almost none of them had a "Welcome" portion. With that in mind, here's a second, simpler version that might be better.
Lately, my body has been banging its spoon on its high chair, screaming at me, "No! I won't sleep! I won't! I won't! I won't!" Exercise, no exercise, it makes no difference. Caffeine doesn't seem to be the issue, either. I'm just having to work through my body's sleep-related Terrible Twos.
Or something like that.
I was very blessed. My kids very rarely threw fits in stores. Of course, if they did, it went badly for them.
About a year ago, my favorite podcast was GLoP - Goldberg, Long and Podhoretz. Those three worthies, who normally wrote about politics, discussed movies and TV on the podcast, for the most part, with some politics as well. I was a big fan of all of them and Jonah Goldberg in particular. I think he's witty and tremendously well-read. I don't listen to it any more. All three of them have completely missed the boat.
When Trump took on the NFL, Jonah and John Podhoretz made the standard, erudite conservative noises on Twitter. What a shame the president is lowering himself to slam the NFL! How terribly gauche! I don't read his work any more, other than to skim his weekly G-file column to see if he's managed to get a clue, but I'm sure Jonah knocked out a long piece chiding Trump for being such a child. I'll bet he worked in references to the Whigs and the Code of Hammurabi and words like sesquipedalian and elucidate. Everything he would say would be correct, well-considered, self-consistent with his previous works and completely worthless.
Like almost every other large organization out there lately, the NFL sided with the social justice warriors against us normals. That's not news, the entertainment industry and academia do it all the time. Only this time, a big organization got punched in the face for their troubles. For the first time I can remember, a massive entity paid a substantial price for flipping us the bird. Other groups might have second thoughts the next time they want to indulge in some noxious virtue signalling. That wasn't going to happen without Trump being his normal, combative self.
When the Supreme Court jammed gay marriage down our throats and ANTIFA clones began to shut down free speech, the culture war went from cold to hot. Those were followed up by lectures from celebrities, news channels doing a propaganda blitzkrieg and formerly respected entities like the New York Times questioning the need for freedom of speech and doing their best to rehabilitate communism.
In the middle of a hot war, you need combative allies, not thumb-suckers who are going to write essays about Woodrow Wilson. The folks at the National Review and Commentary have been doing that for decades and it resulted in a total surrender of the culture to the progressives.
Is it ugly, what Trump is doing? Yes. Is it gauche and over-the-top? You bet. Does he dismember the truth at times? Yep. So what? He's winning some battles in the culture war. That's not something we've been able to say in a long, long time.
This misses the point as well. Why is the NFL even involved in this? It sells football games, not social justice. That's a 46% loss of good will in exchange for nothing. Not winning! Losing bigly!
It's not about the legislation. It's not about ObamaCare, the tax code or any of the total failures of the Republicans in the Senate. It's all about the culture.
This essay by Sarah Hoyt says it all. Here's the payoff for me.
There is this Jorge Luis Borges story, where the old gods are returning to Earth, but upon their arrival, it is found that they have lost the ability to speak. Instead, when they open their mouths, they caw or roar, or make other bestial sounds. The populace, disgusted, turns away from them and refuses to worship them. I don’t remember precisely (it’s been years since I read them), but I think in the end the “gods” get utterly destroyed.
In our case, the "old gods" are the media, the entertainment industry and the academy. Instead of bestial sounds, the only sounds they can produce are screams of "Racism!" Trump is becoming a great president because he's accelerating the process. His ability to troll them into screaming is exactly what we need right now to expel this from our culture.
Yesterday, a librarian made headlines by refusing a gift of Dr. Seuss books from Melania Trump because Dr. Seuss was racist.
So now, Dr. Seuss = "Racism!"
Twitter erupted with photos of Michelle and Barack Obama reading Dr. Seuss books to children as well as that same librarian dressed up as the cat from The Cat in the Hat. Since the progressives and the old gods have become a suicide cult, the obvious hypocrisy won't change their minds at all. They can't hear us any more than they can speak intelligibly.
Just this morning, the old gods screamed again as AOL ran with this headline. Twitter accuses Michelle Obama of pushing 'racist' literature onto children. The actual story was about a progressive screaming "Racism!" at Melania, but the old gods at AOL struggled to twist it into an attack on the Obamas, which, as we all know, is racist.
The longer this goes on, the more obvious it is that it's all just animal noises. The NFL kneeling stupidity dropped the mask, big time. Millionaire athletes are blasting their blue collar fans for racism and oppression. It's insanity. It's a suicide cult.
The old gods will finally be destroyed when their screams of "Racism!" are replied to with this.
It's obvious nonsense to claim that illegitimacy is the product of racism or that it doesn't cause horrific social pathologies. It's not racism causing poverty, it's terrible personal choices. The old gods have no response to this.
So the Bears and the Packers stood for the national anthem last night. (Score one more for Donald Trump!) I've been wondering what my reaction to the league would be when they finally came to their senses and I have to say I shocked myself.
My father comes from the Green Bay area and I was born and raised a Packers fan, despite being a military brat and living all over the country. There are photos of me in Packers gear dating back to the Bart Starr era.
Last night, the Packers played the Bears and beat them like a drum. In the past, I've gloated over highlights from games like these, watching them several times and laughing each time. I could only make it through about 45 seconds of it before I felt nauseous and in another 30 seconds, I switched it off.
It was the end zone dances that did it to me. The same people who have been calling me a racist and disrespecting the flag and the military were there strutting around like peacocks after catching a ball. My reaction was visceral. I hated it, I hated them and I couldn't wait to get far away from it.
Today, I learned that Delanie Walker, a wide receiver for the Tennessee Titans, has been snarking at the fans who are ticked off at the kneeling stupidity, telling them to stay away if it bugs them. Dig this bit of taunting.
I might be done forever with the NFL. Unlike last weekend where I was sad about the whole thing, I'm pretty solid in my loathing for them all right now. Where I was wishing I could come to terms with the protests in some way and remain a fan, I just don't care at all any more and don't want to have anything to do with the game at all.
As for Delanie and the other ignorant punks, I've got a dance routine suggestion for you. It's what I immediately thought of as I watched the Packers highlights. Go for it, Delanie. It's right up your alley.
Some on the left are now saying that if you're an NFL player and you don't kneel for the national anthem, you're standing for white supremacy.
Sigh.
What are there, about a thousand white supremacists total in the US? They shot their wad at Charlottesville and couldn't manage to pull together more than a couple hundred. Meanwhile, there are endless mounds of people warning us all about the dangers of white supremacy sweeping the nation. It dawned on me that it looks something like this.
I'll bet that if you just counted media types and Twitter accounts talking about white supremacists, there are about 100 of them for every real white supremacist.
Yeah, I'll get right on that white supremacist problem, guys. As soon as I can find one.
Unreal. I had figured the Dallas Cowgirls would have had the sense to come in out of the rain, but I guess not. On Sunday, the only Pittsburgh Steeler to stand for the national anthem was Army combat veteran Alejandro Villanueva. His jersey instantly became the number one best seller across the country.
My son pointed out something I hadn't considered. If you were an owner and needed a measure of the marketing damage being done by the kneeling stupidity, that was it. The fans are screaming at the NFL, but the league, the players and the owners now have the progressive religion and can't hear anything. Thus, we get the following picture of a suicide cult in action.
That smug, self-satisfied expression on Jerry Jones' face makes me want to retch.
If you don’t stand for the National Anthem, what DO you stand for? And I mean that in every sense of the word — because my immediate reaction is: you don’t stand for (anything)....(T)oday, after wearing it proudly for thirty years, I will be throwing my Dallas Cowboys coat in the trash because that’s where it belongs.
I've been a crazy N'awlins Saints since Mike Ditka led them to three straight 3-13 seasons way back when. I've listened to their games when they were horrible and when they won the Super Bowl, it was a religious experience. My closet and dresser is full of Saints gear. I love wearing it. No more. Until this passes away decisively, I'm putting it all away.
One more thing. The morons in the NFL think they're sending a message to Trump. Well, maybe they are, but they're sending a much, much bigger message to their fans. They're saying they want to go to war with the President and if we happen to get hurt badly in the cross fire, well, it sucks to be us.
No, boys. It's going to suck to be you. We can live just fine without you, but you're going to have a hard time living without us.
Idiots.
Update: I didn't watch the game, so I didn't realize that the Cowgirls knelt before the anthem and then all stood when it was played. That's a little better, but not good enough. Why are we bringing politics into the NFL at all? Why are they kneeling in the first place when fans are going to see that and assume the wrong thing? They're still idiots and it's still a suicide cult.
I don't think I've ever seen worse brand management than what the NFL is doing right now. It's simply unfathomable. With every day, nay, every hour, they are smashing their own value in exchange for absolutely nothing.
The NFL is in the entertainment business. Their primary customers are men, men who like rough things. Hmm, what political opinions might men who like rough things hold? Conservative, maybe? Here's a Reuters article from 2014.
Why does the NFL have such a tenacious hold on the national consciousness — particularly that of white males, the primary fans of professional sports? It might be that the NFL, in both its high points and its low ones, encapsulates the prevailing white male conservative ethos of modern America better than any other league. The triumph of the NFL is a tribute to the triumph of American conservatism...
Of people who identified themselves as part of the NFL fan base 83 percent were white, 64 percent were male, 51 percent were 45 years or older, only 32 percent made less than $60,000 a year, and, to finish the point, registered Republicans were 21 percent more likely to be NFL fans than registered Democrats.
Can you imagine what the marketing department for the NFL is going through right now? The players, the owners, the broadcasters are all siding with crazy social justice warriors against the core of the NFL fan base. They are hating on cops, white men and the Star Spangled Banner.
They aren't shooting themselves in the foot, they are jumping, head-first, into a wood chipper.
The NFL needs fans to make money. Its product is completely independent of politics. Even if they came out in favor of cops, white men and the national anthem it would be a mistake because it would alienate some fans. The best way to maximize revenue is to keep politics out of the NFL. Instead, this weekend was all about politics and to make matters worse, racial politics. It's insane.
Men who are paid a minimum of $450,000 a year to play a game are giving the finger to their blue-collar customers. Almost everyone else associated with the sport is amplifying the insults to make them as loud as possible. And who is the face of the movement? Colin Kaepernick, a player that is so supremely awful that he can no longer get a job, even on a practice squad.
Colin Freaking Kaepernick.
Progressive, racial politics now dominates another institution and, as usual, is killing it. Iowahawk put it well with this tweet.
1. Identify a respected institution.
2. kill it.
3. gut it.
4. wear its carcass as a skin suit, while demanding respect.#lefties
Update: Dig this comment from a Daily Caller post about Mike Tomlin of the Steelers unahppy about one of his players, a veteran of three tours in Afghanistan, going out to stand for the national anthem:
I watched something yesterday I never thought I would see. I got out my needlepoint in preparation for the 8+ hours of football that occur in our house every Sunday and when the anthem was played, and the black power salute was given, my husband turned off the games and never turned them back on. My husband is a man who is not usually quiet, but he was yesterday and he said that when someone can give a black power salute then refer to the military, police and him as racists, they don't deserve any respect or any of his time. I tried telling him not to pay attention to a bunch of low-life millionaires and just enjoy what he loves most, he said that was a line he wouldn't cross.
... as a follow up to yesterday's post suggesting we use Pokemon characters for team mascots to counteract the waves and waves of white supremacism sweeping across the country in the form of team nicknames. You can find the original Penn State fight song lyrics here.
For Penn State, I suggested their team be renamed from the Nittany Lions, which conjures up images of animal cruelty, to the Charizards. Here's how their new fight song would read.
Chorus:
HAIL! to the Charizard, loyal and true.
HAIL! Alma Mater, with your fiery hue.
PENN! STATE! forever, molder of men (and women, lesbians, gays, transexuals, transgendered, bisexuals, questioning, gender fluid and declined to answer),
FIGHT! for her (or his, hir, mer, zir as you prefer) honor — FIGHT! — and victory again.
Verse:
Indiana has its Bulbasaurs,
Purdue its gold and black.
The Voltorbs from Northwestern
and Magikarps on attack.
Ohio State has its Spinaraks,
Up north, The Larvitars.
But the mighty Charizards,
The best they’re ever are.
Really, there's no need to pay me. I do this as a public service.
I'm sure that if we worked hard enough, we could come up with a Brony angle on this. It seems pretty appropriate for a generation who can't abide sexual biology or aggressive, physical competitions.
If you haven't heard, team names and mascots that might be considered racist are under attack.
Well, not all team names, just some. Here in San Diego, the SDSU Aztecs got rid of the semi-goofy Monty Montezuma mascot because it was offensive to indigenous peoples. You know, those indigenous peoples who enslaved other tribes so they could practice mass vivisection. We wouldn't want to taint that noble memory.
The LSU Tigers are garnering protests because their nickname, the Tigers, allegedly referred to the tiger-like ferocity of Louisiana units that fought for the Confederacy. Similarly, the Washington Redskins are under constant threat because their nickname, while liked by American Indians, is disliked by people who claim to represent American Indians.
Enough of this already! I, KT Cat, have the answer.
Let's name our teams after Pokemon creatures. The Washington Zubats. The LSU Squirtles. The Southeast Wyoming Technical Trade School Rattatas. It all makes perfect sense. No one is offended and the souvenirs and clothing are already plentiful.
You're welcome.
Here, the mascot of the Penn State Charizards strikes a fearsome pose. Flame on, beloved alma mater!
Pondering my own significant decrease in willpower over the past couple of years, it dawned on me that when our kids became self-sufficient, I lost my primary motivation for self-denial. When your life is dedicated to someone else, when their success hinges on your support, there's a reason to forgo the vacations, toys, parties and what-have-you. When all you have to worry about is yourself, you can relax.
And relax I have. My MGB project has taken years longer than it should have. My self-paced learning has almost ground to a halt. I've tried a number of times to become a better photographer, but I always had this voice in the back of my head asking why I was bothering. The list goes on and on.
There are many rites of passage in life: going to school for the first time, learning to drive, kissing a girl, moving out, getting your first, self-supporting job. One that gets much less attention is that moment when the last of your children no longer needs you for survival. It's a glorious day, to be sure, but on the other side of it lies ... what?
It snuck up on me. Slowly, stealthily and without warning, it struck. I was helpless.
At work, I'm on my browser all day. Lots of open tabs, clicking here, typing there, it's a frenzy of webby goodness. During the day, I find myself checking Twitter, Instapundit, the WSJ and more. Why? It's fun, that's why. Why not?
Therein lies the problem of willpower. I've been re-reading (re-listening) to Willpower. In it is a description of some dude who is an endurance artist. An endurance artist is another word for a mentally ill person who does things to such extremes that it makes you want to lie down with a cool washcloth on your forehead. In one case, this lunatic held his breath for more than 17 minutes.
That's nuts, but his training was interesting. He built up his willpower through acts of self-denial that simulated the insane stunt he wanted to attempt. I waste a lot of time on the Internet in the mornings. It's my time, but I find myself simply burning it on nonsense. Let's see if disciplining myself during the day can help my self-control in the mornings.
General Burkhalter would tell me that I just need some good, old-fashioned, German self-discipline.
