Wayne Michael Reich

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Wayne Michael Reich
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Conspiracy Drearies Pt. 2 (Transpotting)

“Fear of the unknown and the other is the root of almost all hate. It is born of ignorance and fed by those who would keep us divided.” – Tinnekke Bebout

Greetings, Bitchiteers!

Is there anything better than finding yourself in that special pace that serves as your office away from the office, as you write between taking bites of a green chile bacon cheeseburger, as Mungo Jerry’s “In the Summertime” plays in the background? I say no. Good food, good vibes, and the occasional perk of having my Coca-Cola tab picked up by the house.

Overall, Life is better than average, if not fully carbonated.

Sure, I may have to undergo a surgical procedure straight out of Goldfinger, to fix the aneurysm issue I currently have going on in both of my eyes, but that’s just the way the dice tends to roll when you’re in your 50’s, is it not? If all goes well, I’ll soon have eyeballs of a twenty-year old, providing my team of highly trained black-market surgeons manages to get said eyeballs across the Mexican border without being caught.

Fingers crossed.

There’s an old maxim that goes; “That which is made, cannot be unmade. That which is done, cannot be undone”, and when I was younger, this sagacity underpinned my perception of just how the inner mechanics pf the Universe itself, worked. That is, I was convinced in the solidarity of the material, be it cultural, societal, or spiritual. As has just been established, not only was I quite naïve, I was also wildly optimistic in tandem as well.

At the time, I was a disciple of the theorem that nothing, regardless of what form it once possessed, was ever truly gone. I don’t believe in the constructs of Heaven and Hell, per se’, but I do ascribe to the principle that in the end, you’ll find yourself wherever your decisions placed you. For some of us, that destination will turn out to be an inferno that plays “Highlander 2” on a 24/7 loop for eternity, and for others, hopefully such as myself, our perpetuity will be spent on an island made out of Ding Dongs, where all the women look like this:

What can I say? I’m a sucker for chicks who kill zombies while looking absolutely fantastic.

All wishful thinking aside, I in my naivete, once professed a faith that when it came right down to it, people would do the right thing, and for the right reasons. However, that sanguinity has taken quite the hit over the last few years, and I can honestly say that despite the new coat of paint I slap on every few months pr so, the rust is still bubbling up. These days, while I may admit to liking Humanity as a general rule, I find most people to be a supreme disappointment overall.

If anything, I tend to look at the majority of people walking this giant ball of f**ked up space-dust and granite as living under a code that I’ve come to refer to as “The Rule of Plissken”. And what is that, you wonder?

In a nutshell, my premise is drawn from the actions of the titular anti-hero depicted in John Carpenter’s iconic film “Escape from New York”, wherein former Special Forces operator and decorated war hero of World War III, S.D. “Snake” Plissken, finds himself tasked (against his will) to rescue the American president from inside the high-security prison that once was the island of Manhattan.  If you have no idea what I’m talking about, and haven’t seen it, go stream it now, if only to see Adrienne Barbeau at her bangin’ best.

Ok. So I’ve got a type. Feel free to sue me.

At its core, the Rule of Plissken dictates that, while the right thing will always be done, the impetus for doing so, will be begrudging at best, with an eye kept out for the advantages to oneself for accomplishing the task at hand. Two examples of this, are when Snake saves Brain and Maggie, despite Brain’s betrayal, because he needs Brain’s map of the landmines on the exit bridge, and saves the President, only because he needs to save himself,

In the end, Snake is no humanitarian, a fact revealed to all of us, when he [SPOILERS!!!] swaps out the cassette tape that the President requires in order to promote peace between the nations of the world. If you think I’m being a tad bot harsh here, you may be right. As a cynic, I tend to see things in classic black & white, but there is an advantage to doing so, as I’m either always being proven right, or finding myself pleasantly surprised by the outcome.

In essence, I’m almost always in balance, unlike many of the situations and people I write about. Am I championing the concept that people are either intently good or evil? Not by a long shot. Despite the ease of labeling a spade a spade, people are not so easily classified.  

What I am saying however, is that either state of being is based solely on one’s unique perspective, experience, and the needs of the individual at the time a decision has to be made, regardless of duress or comfort. Conclusions to the legitimacy or the wickedness of an action, are as varied as the actions themselves, and just as debatable.

Eye of the beholder, and all that jazz. As the saying goes, “Perception is key”, and nowhere does there exist a better proof of concept for this assertion than the internet, where one can literally gorge themselves on the acuity of those unknown to them. I’ve beaten this dead horse before, but no matter how many time I do, it still stubbornly reanimates, as if it were Jesus at a potluck.

So, in the spirit of my last screed, I will hopefully be picking up the threads of conspiracy that the GQP has woven into a truckload of bats**t crazy area rugs, and attempt to feed them all to a cadre of overly hungry Tineola bisselliellain, in an ongoing attempt to put some sanity back into the national interior decorating discussion, where it is so desperately needed.

However, before I do that, I’d like to address some other things that have crossed my point of view as of late, and if I can’t get us reservations on the conspiracy carousel, rest assured, I’ll get us all the best of seats the next time round.

American novelist, Nathaniel Hawthorne, long before the days of instant communication was even a consideration, noted that; “Words- so innocent and powerless as they are, as standing in a dictionary, how potent for good and evil they become in the hands of one who knows how to combine them”, and if that didn’t foreshadow what the promise of the Web has devolved into, I don’t know what does.

Interchangeably Angel and Demon, the internet has swapped out yesterday’s beer halls and coffeeshops as the public platform for launching ideas and beliefs both inspiring and insipid, and in doing so, has forever changed the perceptions and boundaries of what was once truly civil speech, replacing it instead, with a far less palatable concoction steeped in hate, fear, and rampant misinformation.

Take for instance, this lovely example of such, as posted by one of the world’s angriest Istiophoridae:
Other than the fact that this asinine statement has more tin-foil wrapped around it than Marjorie Taylor Greene at a MAGA rally, it’s also reminiscent of a greatest hits album specifically designed for, as well as by, absolute morons. Sure all the familiarly catchy songs are featured, but there’s a new tune in thrown in, if only to give the false impression that somebody worked really hard to get this 5th rate mix-tape together.

Let’s look at the playlist, shall we? While there’s the standard hooks we’ve come to expect, such as paranoia, Islamophobia and as always, abortion and White genocide, there’s not only the truly original lick of openly complaining about being unable to own bombs, [because I guess you could before?] but claiming outright that LIBERALS are, and I swear to God, this actually hurt my brain when I read it, allied AGAINST legal Marijuana, as well.

Yup. I can’t even begin to tell you all how refreshing it was to see, Sean Hannity, Lauren Boebert, and Jim Jordan all bravely come forward to decry the medical opiate industry, and tout the benefits of scheduling a regular quickie with Mary Jane. Truly, an inspiring moment in our country’s esteemed history, was it not?

However, we cannot even for a second, overlook the GQP’s newest red-meat-dog-whistle, that being the invented out of ether conservative concerns about the in-process “demasculation” of modern men, expressed here once again by a troll whose best idea for a fake profile name, was to combine a fish with his favorite substitute for his lack of penii power:

They are? Well, that definitely explains the uptick in bookstores, cupcake shops, and slathered in butter clones of Channing Tatum that I’ve witnessed just walking around shirtless. Thank mythical God. For a second there, I thought it was just me who had successfully connected the dots. 

Strangely however, these incels for all their fear of women just living their lives without their input, are also seemingly calm with same said uppity females having unlimited access to guns. Now, I won’t speak for you, but if there was a specific group of people that I was convinced were trying to take over the world, I’d be far less chill about giving them the tools to do so. Just saying.

And yet somehow, despite this nod to equality in firepower, there’s still an overall tone of condescending misogynistic creepiness to be found within this societal concession, because when it gets right down to it, these wannabe warriors still think they’re the ones that set the bar for women to limbo under:
For once, this guy is actually right. And the best way to prove that Feminism has no place in the debate regarding the 2nd Amendment, is to denigrate women to being nothing more than a short descriptive of the body parts that men like Rael, seem to think define just what a woman is.

I’d also like to call attention to the fact that “back in the day” of the Founding Father portrayed, women couldn’t vote, own property, sign contracts, bring legal suits, hold any governmental position, had no political representation, and if they earned a wage, the money was legally the property of their husbands, as were they. And when it came to women’s 2nd Amendment rights…

The issue of women owning guns was societally viewed in the same regard as was teaching them how to read- that is, while there weren’t any specific decrees forbidding it, and there could be some benefit to doing so, the need for such wasn’t considered as imperative, since the assumption that women lacked the ability to defend health and home wasn’t in their nature. But other than that annoying factoid which sinks his assessment entire, Rael is on the right track… to be run over by actual History, that is..

Shocking that such a thoughtfully intelligent guy who looks like this…

[photo credit: Rogel Rael]

… doesn’t know the first f**king thing about women’s role in American history, huh? However, in his very limited defense, it’s not like Rael has a lot of alleged experience interacting with women, as evidenced by the fact that he couldn’t even spell his own derogatory descriptive of “Tits”, correctly.

But to his credit, he did manage to nail the word “ass” with flying colors, even if he couldn’t get a piece of one to save his life, and judging from the dimensions of that pockmarked cantaloupe he wittily calls his face, I seriously doubt he’s ever gotten off of his, unless a Hot Pocket was to be had for doing so.

But as it is with all bloviating Betas wanting to be able to shop without shame in the actual Men’s section versus that of the junior Man-boy department, where they’ve acquired most of their wardrobe, if not all of their rampant misogyny, the inherent need to inform us all of who’s really the “man”, is never that far from the back of their so-called minds:
If a man is truly the King of his Castle, as the adage goes, this wannabe’s only purpose within it, is to remind his spouse that she settled for the candidate that’s sixth in line to wear the crown. And despite his posturing, this poster boy for perpetual virginity is most certainly, run like a racehorse by the women in his life, be they strangers or intimates, hence the grandstanding that they do not.

People with certifiable influence and power don’t talk about it on social media, they uncompromisingly wield it in the world of the real, and they sure as the day is long, don’t hide behind an obviously fabricated Facebook profile to do so, either. If it just so happens that this person is telling the truth about his familial demographic within his house, rest assured that there’s no way in Hell he has any form of control over three women at once.

What he does control, and that with the steel-jacketed fist of Cobra Commander, is his devastating application of self-owning and utterly pathetic chest-beating memes, such as this one:.

Yes, Marlin… the reason why you’re losing all those political battles, is because of sackless men, and not because of the ignorance, bigotry, or the divisiveness that your party wallows in as if it were a fattened sow heading to market.

Nope, it’s your fellow brotards who are dropping the ball (or their balls, if you prefer) on this one. Thank metaphorical God that they have such a shining example of greased testosterone to show them the way, once you get out from behind fake profile of yours to do so.

Pushing Marlin’s unwarranted braggadocio aside for the moment, I’m also highly suspect that such a fine specimen of manliness personified, would also feel the need to be so crude as well. As a rule, truly confident men exude strength, not vulgarity, and the fact he felt the need to tell strangers to (sigh) “#Loveyourballs” and “#BeAMan”, just proves to me that even his own hands refuse to touch him, unless he soaks them in Jack Daniels first.

If there is one single factor that accurately paints Betas as the cravenly cucks that they truly are, it’s their obsession with male genitalia, albeit their own or as is most often the case,  the set connected to those who identify as either Gay or Trans-positive. And while persons afflicted with this prurient interest can indeed, be considered as “straight”, their obsession with others testicles, is nothing less than a fetishtic disorder worth the time to study in some depth, and that, hopefully sooner than later.

Not so much to increase their capacity for personal tolerance, mind you, although that would be the ultimate goal, it’s more along the lines of making sure that we’ll never have to read a headline like this, ever again:

No, your eyes are not deceiving you, so yes… you did read that correctly. The Alt-Right’s favorite rent-boy for hire, the bitchiest Beta you’ve ever heard of, and former bow-tie aficionado, Tucker Carlson, seriously encouraged the act of tanning your testicles, as part of a “Bromopathy” regimen, an idea so stupid, if not potentially dangerous, that this may be the first time in my life that a snarky retort has eluded me.

According to Pasha Dashtgard, director of research at American University’s Polarization and Extremism Research and Innovation Lab; “This ‘bromeopathic’ idea to increase testosterone is there to counteract the effects of feminism and the feminization of the Western man, This platforming by Tucker Carlson is happening because it falls into this narrative that there is a crisis of masculinity, that cancel culture and wokeness have emasculated men in America.”

This rapidly increasing feeling of being politically, culturally, and influentially impotent, has long been a problem among Conservative men, and never more so then now, a time when (GASP!!!) women and the LGBTQ community have in tandem, made strong advances into the spheres of power that straight White men used to dominate without breaking a sweat. But it does in retrospect, somewhat explain their testes-obsessed tantrums, as their paranoiac fear that they’re about to have their personal set handed back to them in a paper bag, intensifies.

This anxiety has apparently rattled this walking representation of the German word “Backpfeifengesicht “ so much as of late, that he felt the need one night, to ask his audience of equally neutered Neanderthals a question that he himself, has probably been working on hourly, if not daily, since he attended his senior Prom arm-in-arm with his Mom:Easy answer- they’re the ones that are generally avoiding meeting your gaze whenever you try to engage them in unwanted conversation at work. But yeah… they’re the ones responsible for bringing shame upon men who act as if they were Roman Polanski at a sleepaway camp.

This non-issue, stoked into a bonfire by gelded gargoyles, such as Tucker, Mucker, Pucker, F**ker, or whatever the f**k his name is, is the newest point of faux outrage that cucks such as he feed to their base almost 24/7, in order to distract from the reality that the GQP’s standard dog and pony act is retreading it’s best as time wears on, and they have nothing else left in the allegorical closet to offer, save for their own possibly latent homosexual tendencies, as expressed below:

Sigh… the more that I read Marlin’s dumber-than-f**k posts, the more it becomes blatantly obvious that whereas the 747 of reality is concerned, he’s akin n to the Canadian Goose that’s been sucked into one of its engines. I find it interesting that for all their slanderous bluster regarding the Left being immoral, perverse, and sexually obsessed, the Alt-Right is the only one I see constantly referencing sodomy, pedophilia, men’s declining sperm count, misogynistic tropes, cross-dressing, and adultery as self-projecting talking points.

And as for criminal convictions, well the numbers speak for themselves:
Don’t trust me on this? Feel free to go do your own research, then. You know, the thing that the GQP faithful adamantly refuse to do? Granted, this chart doesn’t include the additional convictions of those affiliated with the prior Trump administration, but I think given the fact that several of his associates have been prosecuted successfully for crimes ranging from lying to the FBI to child trafficking, these numbers will remain favorable to the Dems, for quite some time to come.

White collar crimes aside, one of the other consistencies to be found within the cravenly land of conservative man-boys for whom the descriptive “incel” was specifically crafted, is the ever-pervasive, and previously alluded to, aspect of toxic masculinity, as showcased by Marlin Mossberg’s postings above. But what is that, asks every man on the planet who’s never talked to an actual woman without the benefit of a credit card?

Well, as a public service benefit for both they, and the women who wish the practitioners of such didn’t exist, I’ll tell you. The clinical characterization states that TM is; “a set of attitudes and ways of behaving stereotypically associated with or expected of men, regarded as having a negative impact on men and on society as a whole. In relation, the destructive messages associated with toxic masculinity can lead to men feeling entitled to engage in violence against women.”

Or as Tucker Carlson would so cheerfully describe it; “Acting like a “real” man”, something Carlson is widely respected for, as he openly attacks Feminism, women’s body autonomy, and describes women not only as “extremely primitive” and “cunty”, but as “whores”, and “like dogs”, as well. Carlson, whom I suspect shamefully masturbates while dressed up as a real boy, has also suggested that it “gets women going” when men argue with them, clarifying his misogyny by saying that;

“If you’re talking to a feminist, and she’s given you, ‘Well, men really need to be more sensitive,’ no, actually, men don’t need to be more sensitive. You just need to be quiet and kind of do what you’re told.”

And just like the “Real men” he so desperately wants to be regarded as being in league with, he utters all these masculine assertions as such a man would do, from behind the safety of his desk, located inside the testosterone-soaked men’s bathroom of his bully pulpit.

All half-jokes notwithstanding, Beta cucks such as Carlson and his ilk, are literally terrified at the prospect of women having any control of the reins that they’ve held for so long, and in their worldview, the only thing more emasculating than having to acknowledge the presence of women with power, is to be equated as being one without the access to such:I don’t want to get too deep into the morass of biology here, but it seems to me, that if one set of genitals can survive pushing a human being out of it, whereas the one accorded to the opposite gender can be easily thwarted by minor contact with the edge of a kitchen table, only one really gets to claim the title of being a true badass. Just saying.

However, I do love the unintentional equivalence that not owning a gun, is akin to one being a willing Castrato against the good of society. I’m sure there’s nothing to unpack here in regards to Leyba’s alleged need to publicly overcompensate for some form of personal shortcoming, am I right? The key to this theorem of course, being the word “short”.

In Leyba’s world, “Men need to be Men” whatever the f**k that means, but my gut reaction tells me that most likely, it refers to men being selfishly boorish pricks, and women being held forcibly to the standards set by the Wives of Stepford.

Leyba, like most male cosnservacucks, simply cannot abide the thought of their fellow man being anything less than a mélange of Mel Gibson channeling Sean Connery, opining that, if young boys aren’t “taught’ to act like men by their fathers, then most certainly, outside influences will somehow, magically “turn them” into Hello Kitty loving wussies:

Newsflash? I f**king love Hello Kitty, and I can still beat your ass flatter than a Kansas pancake, because one has nothing to do with the other. And while I can split a rail with the best of them, I as a man, choose not to, because it’s no longer 1865, and Duraflame makes an excellent product that arrives at my house splinter-free.

Maybe instead of cracking logs, Leyba’s unfortunately allowed to spawn father, should have spent more time teaching him how to crack open books instead, so he’d have an information-based understanding of how the world actually works, as it’s fairly obvious from this posting, that he considers a half-truth to be a whole one:

It may surprise some of you, but overall, I actually somewhat agree with this sentiment. There has been a coarsening of society, as evidenced by America’s embrace of Trash Culture, but there’s a crucial detail that Leyba and the original poster left out of their shared narrative, and it is this: it isn’t the Left that’s cheapening the character of this country, unless you count wanting equality for all, as a detriment to creating a stronger society, which of course, the GQP base does.

But when you keep in mind, that this is one of our aspirational role models;

And that this is theirs, displaying that particularly unique blend of decorum, compassion, humanity, and raw sense of ever-so-present masculinity, that he’s heralded for world-wide, it becomes quite clear which political party reads books about a man’s role in society, and which one burns them:

This lone image, succinctly captures the pure essence of what the modern-day conservative movement currently is- hateful, ignorant, elitist, racist, homophobic, xenophobic, who’ve given full emotional investment to a self-aggrandizing, cowardly, deceitful, adulterous, treasonous man-child, who despite his decades long history of lies, graft, and betrayal, claimed at one of his ego-stroke rallies that; “I’ve got to be the cleanest, I think I’m the most honest human being, perhaps, that God has ever created.”

Nevertheless, Leyba does raise a good point about men not being gentlemen any longer, and as he did, I feel that I must give credit where credit is due, especially when he inadvertently proves his own point, by posting self-owning evidence like this:

I may not be a betting man, but I’d dare roll the metaphorical dice on the suggestion that whereas Leyba is concerned, a woman’s vagina is most certainly allegorical to a manhole cover, in the sense that for the good of society at large, he’s denied consensual access to opening one whenever the mood strikes him.

That is not to say however, that Leyba lacks the charm and wit to get lucky without the aid of a publicized trust fund and well-known heart problems, it’s more along the lines that I feel if Leyba were to ever bag and tag a model-worthy woman, she’d be the one seen posing in Hustler, rather than Playboy. Unless of course, droll banter like this truly turns on a hottie with a body:

Despite how truly immature this posting is, especially when you consider that Leyba is a middle-aged man, and not a 14-year-old boy, he is right about one thing regarding beer being better than a woman. Unlike women, Leyba can actually not only consistently pick up a beer, he can get it to willingly come home with him, without making it consume itself and five of its brothers first.

But as you’d suspect, Leyba is hardly alone in echoing this worldview where the tensile strength of one’s eventual manhood is as fragile as wet tissue paper, drawing conclusions based solely on their willful ignorance of a culture that they refuse to either attempt to understand, or ignore outright, choosing instead, to see the world entire as a place where unsuspecting children are mere centimeters away from developing a love for fashion design, if not interior decorating:
I’m curious… which “enemies” exactly, are the ones who are currently scheming to nefariously turn our future men into women? The Russians? The North Koreans? The cast of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy? I guess it could be Disney, given their recent decision to depict the world as it actually is, in their upcoming movies and shows, but since they already have their hands full trafficking children via the conduit that is the “It’s a Small World “ ride, I’m forced to admit that I am truly stumped as to who the responsible culprits could be.

While maniacal theories regarding the true intentions of the LGBTQ community has always been a front-burner issue for the GQP, the last three years have seen a dramatic upswing in their unfettered homo- and -trans-phobic delusions, especially where the matter of Transgenderism is concerned. Rest assured, when they’re not blowing the dog-whistle regarding the non-issue of children being sexually assaulted in Target bathrooms, it’s only because they’re currently focusing on their fevered fantasies that the TG community is perpetually holding open auditions:

Honestly, I’m not sure if I should be amused or horrified that overly phobic prats such as Leyba, have quite literally, not a f**king clue as to what the TG and Gay community are about, considering how much he obsesses over them. It would be akin to one of you asking me about Milla Jovovich, and me being unable to show you my numerous flow charts documenting her awesomeness.

And while this may come as a sincere shock to Leyba, TG’s do reproduce, as not all of said demographic decides to go full post-op. I know this is disappointing for you to learn Ricky Retardo, but TG’s and Gay people are interested only in the adult version of their sexual preference, and I am truly sorry that you find yourself unable to get the exploratory hummer you seemingly desire on that particular side of the coital fence.

And the less said about this dumbf**kery;

the better, given that this person, for all of his talk about Transgenderism, is seemingly unaware as to how they arrive into this world.to begin with, and I have neither the time, nor the number of anatomically correct hand-puppets that would be required to explain it to him.

Playing along with Leyba’s erroneous belief that TG’s couldn’t possibly have a familial structure like the rest of us, I’d like to take this moment, and introduce you to this shining gem of humanity, one Joey Burke, whom I can only assume judging from the personal posting we’re about to review, played a fair amount of roller hockey in his youth, sans the protection of any protective headgear. Burke, like most conservatives is angry.

So very angry.

And as is typical with the majority of free-range conservative cuckolds, he needs to be told what he’s supposed to be angry about, and I can assure you, it’s most definitely the kind of opinion that would make the most ardent of eugenicists, almost proud to share the same planet with him, if not the same social solution::

Now, before I metaphorically eviscerate Burke, much in the manner that a similarity named graverobber did to his stock in trade during the era of the 1820’s, I’d like to discuss who this Benny Johnson person actually is, and it’s a story worth notating for both its level of personal hubris, if not its wretchedness.

Johnson, currently cosplaying as the host of The Benny Report on NewsMax TV, is known as a former prominent staff writer at Buzzfeed, who found himself unceremoniously terminated after it was publicly revealed that numerous articles he had claimed as original compositions, were in fact, heavily plagiarized.

Therefore, it should come as no surprise that a lummox such as Burke, who obviously needs stage directions, as he seemingly can’t think for himself, should requote an established liar, who most likely, nicked this lack of intellectualism from somebody else.

As with their need to make women appear “less than”, the same strategy is applied here as well, in order to dehumanize a targeted community that this modern-day Goebbels, likens to a cluster of Dementors that have been loosed from the pages of the Harry Potter series, to openly feast upon the innocents of the world, via the formerly magical lands that a cartoon mouse built.

While this expressed sentiment alone is beyond repulsive, I’d also call attention to the fact that it was uttered by a man who, all sarcasm aside, looks like he’s more than fairly knowledgeable with the storage capacity of his house’s crawlspace.  If anyone in this conversation appears as “soulless”, it’s definitely the guy whom I suspect, has the full set of trading cards featuring the collected works of Theodore Bundy.

As I had to do with Leyba, I will attempt to educate the duo of Burke and Johnson, which sounds less like a comedy act, and more along the lines of people you’ll eventually hear about on the History Channel, if only to prove just why the need to randomly spay and neuter Republicans, should sometimes be a tangible thing.

For the record and for humanity’s sake, the following is certifiably accurate: Transpersons are not freaks, they do have families, albeit better then the one you were poorly raised in, and shockingly, they do have kids, as I sadly had to point out to your equally as hateful brother from another motherf**ker, above.

And while I’m not sure as to why it is that you associate pink hair with sexual deviance, I’ll just assume for the time being that it somehow relates to your being caught inside the public bathroom of a Stae Fair, attempting to please yourself with a bucket of cotton candy. Heck… it makes about as much sense as your unwarranted transphobia, so I’m going to run with it, regardless of the truth.

You know. Like you just did, you ignorant troglodyte?

However< I am somewhat sympathetic for those conservatives with children of their own, as our ever-changing world these days, is sometimes quite hard to translate to those who have yet to acquire the life experience necessary to understand it:

Poor Don… can you imagine the personal embarrassment involved with being unable to articulate the fact that sometimes birds like bees, and vice versa, and the reality that you’re truly okay with such, is both perfectly natural, and yes, even sane?

Speaking only for myself, I have zero issue with members of either the TG or Gay community, as some of my best wingmen back in the dating days, were affiliated with one or the other, and as far as I’m concerned, I’d rather hang out with the Fabulous, rather than the Fascist, any day of the week, hands down.

If that’s the jar of jam you like to spread on metaphorical toast, I say go for it, and enjoy yourself, as you will not ever maliciously hurt a person with your lifestyle, save for the ones who are insanely jealous at your ability to mix a dead-on perfect Manhattan. But as we’ve seen since … well, forever, conservatives just cannot let the differences that make each one of us singularly unique, slide past without some form of hatefully ignorant commentary following in tandem:

I would like to remind you all, that at one point in time, the dual subjects of homosexuality and Transgenderism were considered to be a credible mental illness, and along with the public stigma that could occur to such an invasive assessment being leveled, there was also the very real threat of criminal prosecution for being openly “out”, as well.

This abominable diagnosis, reverted for the better when the American Psychiatric Association (APA) removed the diagnosis of “homosexuality” from its 2nd edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual (DSM). In 1973, was a critical first step in assimilating the accurate view that such proclivities are not deviant, immoral, or as the Cafeteria Christian Brigade likes to frequently claim, “Against God”.

If God is truly infallible, then being Gay or TG, is not a mistake, so much as it is a deliberate part of God’s overall Divine Plan. And as an aside, I do have to appreciate the irony of a devoted homo/transphobe posting about how “they” suffer from a mental illness, as he spent God-knows-how-long tracking down just the right meme to express his obsessive disgust with a lifestyle that is not his own.

Seriously. I’m not a psychologist by any stretch of the imagination, but if you find yourself fixating on the sexual identities of persons unknown to you, half as much as these loons seemingly do, I’d strongly suggest that perhaps, your therapy session with Dr. Goldberg, should be expanded to at least three times a week. Especially when you don’t allegedly know for certain, what is “real”, and what’s not

Personally, I don’t think that Haniford really gave any deepness of thought to his inference regarding the long-term ramifications of reclassifying the duality of homosexuality and Transgenderism as a form of mental illness, because let’s face it, this is still America, and if you give people a validated excuse to do so, this is now most people would apply such an action:

Sneer all you want, but you know damn well that I’m not wrong.

As noted, hateful sentiments and punitive actions, are nothing new for people who openly decry the alleged “perverse” lifestyle of the LGBTQ community, as they purposefully overlook the one that Donald Trump presents on a daily base, but this latest go-round of slobbering rage is quite the new twist on a classically vile theme.

Collectively, it’s almost as if the GQP base woke up after a decades-long nap, and stumbled upon the fact that not only do these fellow humans of theirs actually exist outside of a movie, they’ve also learned how to use an indoor bathroom, to boot.: But far more pathetic, is the fact that due to their willful ignorance, they can’t even draw distinctions between the various sub-groups either, and just lump them all together, as if they were the hors d’oeuvres at a discount wedding:

You were “shocked” to see cross-dressers at a Cher concert. In 2004. I apologize in advance, to inform you that not only is the concept of cross-dressing hardly a shock to the social norms as they currently exist, its in fact, become so mainstream, that it hardly even qualifies as a blip on the cultural radar, as far as such things used to go. And just because someone likes to wear gender-specific clothing, it does not mean that they’re either gay or in the middle of transitioning. If it did, there’d be about ten newly-made dudes in my life, who owe me no less than 25 dress shirts.

Not to mention, this beloved American has been engaging in the act for over seven decades;
and yet, he still retains his well-deserved status as one of our most beloved icons, despite his numerous attempts to recruit our innocent children into being friends of Dorothy, Equating cross-dressers to either homosexuals or Transpersons, is yet another definitive proving that it’s not the personal practices that’s freaking out the so-called “straights”, so much as it is their Fear of the Other.

As we’ve seen from the idiocy already displayed, this cravenly mob are ever-presently finding themselves apoplectic that any aspect of the LGBTQ community is dared defined as equitable to themselves, falsely perceiving that their sovereignty of selfdom is under no less than a constant attack by the fictitious “Gay Agenda”, which is phobic-speak for taking offense at the fact that those you find distasteful, are living their best lives without asking for your benevolent permission first::
Yup… nothing more annoying than trying to live your life, and being rudely reminded via a gay tuba, that it’s not all about you. And even worse than that, is knowing that for some strange reason, corporations who make a wide range of products to sell, oddly believe “those people” actually buy them, just like you and I do. As its already been established by these homophobes that the LGBTQ community doesn’t have families, kids, or even any semblance of a soul, convincing David that they actually might require a toaster oven, is right out:

I kind of feel bad for David here. It must be so hard nowadays to find commercial breaks that cater exclusively to hatefully dense White people and their specific advertising needs. Outside of the ads on FOX, that is. But don’t you worry David, the fine folks at My Pillow and New Day Financial, will always have your back, no matter what those nasty “woke” businesses decide to do.

One question though? Other than HBO promoting “Orange is the New Black”, where exactly, is he seeing advertising consistently featuring multiple transsexuals? And while the urge to make a tasteless joke at the expense of the Kardashians is presently gnawing on my funny-bone, I’m going to take the high road, here, and just let my question stand as is.

However, if I was going to endeavor to take David’s pointless social kvetching and turn it into a financial positive, I’d suggest that we take his cast of unique characters, pitch a series to Disney+, have them turn it into a “Three’s Company” type of sitcom, sit back, crack open a cold one, and watch the money just pour in.

But David is not alone concerning his feeling of being overlooked by the corporations that he once swore loyalty to, as his allegorical BFF William Pennell is right there beside him, stewing in his own self-created bubble of seething White victimhood:

Pennell, who has a secondary FB account under the alias of “Lowery Porter”, is quite the dizzying intellect, let me tell you. I’ll be showcasing some of his inaner insights in an upcoming screed, but for now, let’s just stick with this slice of Aryan arrogance, shall we? To start, let’s take a look at a graph measuring how minorities view their representation in modern media advertising, against Pennell’s soon to be debunked opinion:

Considering the data presented here, I’d suggest that if Pennell is sincerely missing a friendly White face, I’d offer the suggestion that he either stop watching Telemundo and/or BET, and slither back to the urine-warm embrace of FOX, where the only time he’ll have to see a non-Caucasian, is when they have one on as a special guest, if only for the purpose of reminding their viewership that the only member of a racial minority that truly knew his place, was Stepin Fetchit.

Refreshingly, at least from a certain point of view that is, this traditionalist hate-fest is unexpectedly anti-misogynistic whereas the topic of women wanting to spew equal amounts of homophobic bile is concerned. Quite literally, this may be the only area of discussion next to performing metaphorical fellatio on the mushroom tip of Donald Trump’s flaccidity, where conservative women are allowed truly free reign.

And since women are generally regarded by many, as the fairer sex, we’ll gently start this dissertation off with this delightful slice of passive-aggressive condescension:

You just have to live conservatives, do you not? They’re ever so nice about promoting their idiocy, all so that the rest of us actually functioning humans, can make an informed decision as to how best avoid interacting with them. Truly, an act of personal charity that is thoughtful beyond words, as most GQP fembots such as Nicole here, find utilizing such, far too difficult to compose original thoughts to begin with.

But this assessment of mine doesn’t ring true for everybody of course, as some Stepford wives actually can expound (at great length) about what they consider the evils of the TG influence to be, and aren’t afraid to jump right in. Unfortunately, what they generally dive into headfirst no less, is the world’s largest stand mixer, which tends to take their well-rehearsed inner monologue, and convert it into a nearly unintelligible word smoothie, instead:Wow. Just… wow. I don’t know what’s worse in regards to the inherent madness contained within this diatribe, given the syntax, the falsehoods, the ignorance, or the personally arrogant self-assurance that this pile of conceptual merde need to be expressed publicly.

This unhinged commentary, serving less as a warning, and far more as the final nail in the coffin of this obviously mentally disturbed individual’s intellect, just further affirms my belief that most conservatives shouldn’t. be allowed within ten miles of a house plant, much less an impressionable child.

I know that to think of women as possessing an intrinsic sense of maternal sovereignty is sexist as hell, but good god, one’s lack of it still shouldn’t manifest itself as the complete polar opposite of it, either. But leave it to the GQP base, to take an issue that doesn’t affect them one iota, and turn it into a rallying cry for inflicting their bias under the guise of protecting the greater good of a society that they truly care nothing about:

This lunacy grenade, yet another trope of cancel culture that conservatives claim to hate, yet have eagerly embraced, if not weaponized, in an attempt to mold a society resistant to their abominable ideals, into the new normal that they so desperately want to achieve. And if that societal upheaval requires the inclusion of lies, slurs, and threats of boycott, it’s almost a certainty that conservatives will embrace it as the noblest of actions.

And when these tactics don’t work, due to the aggressiveness of their blatant deceit, there’s aways the tried-and-true tactic of endlessly screaming: “What about the Children?”, until the people they’re targeting acquiesce out of the exceedingly valid concern that they’ll be regarded as being either uncaring, or as closeted pedophiles:

On the face of it, this bigotry masquerading as concern seems legit, does it not? However, it’s also exceptionally disingenuous as well. Saying that the “idea” for one’s personal decision to embrace their true identity as being either Gay or Transgender, is patently ridiculous at its best, and completely insane, at its worst.

If exposure to societal concepts at an impressionable age could truly affect one’s further down the road lifestyle decisions, my being the first bionic super-spy who can not only fly, but also lives inside a volcano lair tended to by clones of Lynda Carter, would have been firmly established in the public consciousness by now. But the notation of such being “a recipe for lifelong depression & self-loathing is correct, even if such an estimation was selectively cherry-picked to fit this bullspit narrative.

When a person of alternate lifestyle finds themself extant in a society such as the one conservatives seemingly want and are working towards, this assertion of depressive self-hatred would be a viable aspect of their lives, as they would be consistently subjected to the bigotry and homophobia that Neo-Cons openly flaunt as sustenance, inspiration, and validation for their truly pitiful existence.

However, in a society where such persons are publicly supported, encouraged, and most importantly, openly respected, for their honest individualism, the metaphorical sky is the limit. For sanity and reality’s sake, no one “chooses” to be Gay or Transgender, very much in the same way that no one “chooses” to be African-American, Asian, or Caucasian- it quite literally, is what it is, and no outside factor can change that, despite the histrionic harping of the alt-Right.

Despite this proven certainty, the bigoted base that comprises the Right-wing movement in this country, never misses an opportunity to demonize those who fall under the descriptive of the LGBTQ banner, by slandering them as we’ve previously seen, from being “soulless” husks of humanity, to falsely claiming that they’re targeting children, but like most viruses that plague Mankind, these swimmers from the shallow end of the gene pool, have mutated a new theorem for public dissemination, and it’s a doozy:You heard it here first, Ladies and Gentlemen- the cause of the declining birth rate on this already far too crowded and over-stressed planet, is those darn Gay people who refuse to over-breed like the rest of us fine upstanding missionary-style fornicators. And let’s have a round of applause for Larry’s parents, who after deciding not to “murder” him, raised him to be a judgmental and self-righteous homophobe instead.

I guess that’s a win for parenting, but I’m not sure how.

I’d point out that if you’re annoyed at the number of Gay people not having children, you should probably blame their parents as well, because they’re the ones who had all those gay kids to begin with. Speaking of which, for people who are so concerned with bringing children into the world to increase the aforementioned declining birth rate, conservatives generally aren’t too keen on the idea of gay couples either adopting the post-born, or utilizing surrogates to have children of their own.

Odd, that.

I mean, they’re totally down for impregnating their mistresses two at a time, or forcing women against their will to give birth via draconian anti-abortion statutes, so you’d think they’d be all in for the creation of a stable family dynamic, but they’re not.

In fact, only 27 states (and one territory) currently have laws or policies that expressly prohibit discrimination in adoption based on sexual orientation or gender, and despite a landmark ruling by the Supreme Court in 2015, some states have openly attempted to forward prohibitive legislation that gives private adoption agencies, the capacity to discriminate on the basis of sexual orientation.

So much for the GQP’s “pro-family values” propaganda, as I see it, but please remember that they’re just trying to “protect” those children from… um, reality, I can only assume?

Here’s the deal: if you’re banning qualified people from becoming parents, or banning books that contain uncomfortable information, or decrying political correctness all in the name of protecting “the children” at the expense of other children’s well-being, all you are really doing in actuality, is projecting the message that only a specific societal demographic is suitable for the role of parenting, which like most of the firmly-held beliefs conservatives have, is simply not true.

Personally, I’ve never ever witnessed any other collective of intellectually-challenged people, be they fans of Nickelback or Highlander 2, who so proudly flaunt their conceit in being mediocre, so much as the GQP faithful does.

For people who under the cover of an organized political movement, have consistently mocked those who are clearly their obvious superiors in word, thought, and deed, they sure have spent an awful lot of energy and time demanding unwarranted praise for not catching their tongues in the spinning blades of a ceiling fan, which to be fair, has always impressed me as well, given the dearth of their collective intellect.

Further evidence of their disconnect from logic is their recent attempts at hijacking the societal impact of the “Gay Pride” crusade, due to that fact that it openly celebrates the whole of LGBTQ culture as being integral to our national fabric of diverse inclusivity, which it most certainly is, whether they want to admit it or not.

Yeah. I said it. Come at me, you phobic Twunts. In fact, I dare ya’.

However, despite their loathing the concept of the LGBTQ community at large being “allowed” to laud the uniqueness of its accomplishments and dogged determination to be accepted for who they are, the anti-gay cabal nonetheless, looked upon their communal platform spearheading this cultural change, and thought that all they needed to do to make it their own, was to slap a few Punisher decals on it, crank up the Ted Nugent, and start Twittering that being born “straight” was somehow, a noble achievement:

You just have to love Albert’s enthusiasm for a state of being he had no control over, celebrating a non-accomplishment that nobody who’s rational gives a dam about, while implying that not only could he get two women who, judging from their mud-flap silhouettes, are obvious strippers, but that they’d be happy to be near him as well.

Now, because I don’t want to judge that which is allegedly already widely known, his flawed optimism that they’d leave his mom’s garage sexually satisfied, is kind of adorable in its naïveté, if I may be so bold.

As for Albert’s beta buddy’s snarky comment inferring that there’s “lots ‘ of “them” just wandering around freely, I’d note that in their dual cases, more gay men within their social spheres might actually be a good thing whereas they’re concerned, since due to their severely limited intellectual appeal, less competition for women puts the law of averages on their side for once.

Nevertheless, Eudsave’s cravenly disdain for Transexuals goes far past that which most people would openly acknowledge is a feeling of personal discomfort with their lifestyle, and instead, abominably, devolves into the dialectal hate that a certain Germanic-based political party utilized regarding their murderous demonization of a race that had done them no harm, save for triggering their sense of inherent bigotry, as is seemingly the case here with Eudsave’s ignorantly disgusting commentary:

I’m curious. What do you think the public reaction to Eudsave’s willful intolerance be, if we replaced his use of the word “animal” to describe TG athletes with the far less tolerable slurs associated with White Supremacy? Do you think he’d be allowed to slide past using such terminology, or would the SJW Brigade chew on him as if they were Cerebos on steroids? 

I think we all know the answer to that one, but a slur against one is a slur against all, and we as a society, need to step up in unified opposition to it. If I were to be transparent, I can honestly say that I don’t follow Women’s sports. But then again, I don’t follow Men’s sports either, so in concern to this particularly new obsession that’s currently afflicting today’s conservatives, I don’t have a lot of contextual background in relation to this subject.

I for one, couldn’t tell you a damn thing about who’s the best this or that within the world of athletic competition, and truthfully, I wouldn’t care if I could. If I’m not personally playing the game, sports hold about as much interest for me as watching paint dry. And I say this, as a visual artist who has literally spent years of his life watching actual paint dry, but I digress, as nobody has the time to hear about that.

The issue at hand, is whether it’s ethical to grant a Transgender male who identifies as being Female, and who has either fully transitioned or is in the process of doing so, the right to compete against other women in relation to athletic competitions centered on the participation of that sole gender alone. As you can imagine, it’s a rather thorny issue for many, and on the scientific side of the debate, the question of physiology does come up as a deciding factor, as one might expect it to do.

Speaking only for myself as always, I take very little issue with men and women dually competing in trials of athletic ability, with the game of Football and/or Rugby, being the lone exceptions. This is not due to any form of sexism on my part mind you, but I have severe reservations about how well a 125lb woman, regardless of physical prowess, would do going up against one of the 375lb steroid-enhanced Silverbacks that the NFL has over-populated its league with.

You’ve got the gift of hustle Tiffany, and one hell of a throwing arm to boot, but when Johnny “The Juggernaut” Jones manages to hit you at full speed, the Law of Action-Reaction, as noted in modern-day physics, will be more than enough singularly, to knock both sets of your grandparents into complete and devastating unconsciousness, mark my words.

However, when it comes to the rest of the assemblage of athleticism, I say have at it. Even when I was a kid playing league soccer, I never understood just why there weren’t any girls on my team. Off the field, we all played together, and while I was competent at my worst, some of them were Pele in a freaking micro-skirt, at theirs, and I think that’s really the problem here… men just don’t like to be bested by a gender that they perceive themselves as being stronger than.

Change my mind. I dare you.

But if this assumption of mine is true, I hear you ask, then why is a man competing against women on their allegorical playing fields even a concern at all? I’ll tell you why. Widespread acceptance. If TG’s are allowed to compete directly with the gender that they identify with, and it becomes the socialized norm, then it stands to reason, that said affected gender will demand the same in reverse, and it’s that which would represent a cultural threat to the established rules of gender politics.

Can you imagine? Women and their TG counterparts, might demand salaries equitable to men’s. Access to promotional deals, once dominated solely by men. Media exposure on par with the likes of male sports stars, and that’s just the beginning of what could become theoretically, if given the time, a truly non-gendered social institution, open to all, dependent only on the basis of one’s own natural abilities.

What can I say? Sometimes my inner Utopian comes out to play when he’s drunk. So, are conservatives really upset about this latest self-invented tempest in a teapot, or are they as usual, just following the cravenly crowd to the next outbreak of faux outrage?

Well, it seems to be a bit of both, as it’s become quite the standard that regardless of whatever issue is currently affecting the Great Society, if it’s something conservatives dislike or disagree with, an overwrought display of histrionics are sure to set up shop, post haste.

And just who is the supreme Postmaster General of distractive deflection and eternal social scapegoating? None other than America’s answer to what Benito Mussolini would have looked like if he swam in dime-store bronzer, the one and only, Donald “Cinnamon Hitler” Trump, of course:

One small observation, if I may? If your noble defender of women’s rights is Donald Trump, not only has the Republic fallen, odds are good that most of its female inhabitant’s chant “Gilead is Number One!” at all of its sporting events. That is, if their “Commanders” allow them to in the first place.

Seriously, Conservatives? Your chosen champion for women’s progress, is a thrice-married, adulterous, lecherous, cravenly, treasonous, alleged pedophile, and self-confessed sexual deviant? What happened., did your dark spell of resurrection fail to reanimate the corpse of Richard “The Nightstalker” Ramirez, and a perverted Oompa-Loompa was the best backup option available to you at the time?

I do admire the chutzpah it took for a man who views a golf course as equivalent to a Church, declaring an allegiance to the same, considering how frequently he openly breaks the Ten Commandants more often than one of his scams masquerading as business ventures, breaks even. And while it shouldn’t need to be said, I don’t want to hear any person who fomented an insurrection using his base of mentally obese  morons, taking about “lunatics ruining the country”, either.

Nevertheless, this unwarranted feeling of needing to “protect” a gender that 172 Republicans voted against a protection act for, is classic republican hypocrisy, but that doesn’t stop the party faithful from posting garbage like this, where they take two unrelated topics, and amalgamate them into an absurd talking point:

First, while it’s an incontestable fact that Will Smith is a jackass for what he did on live television at the Oscars, it still has no bearing whatsoever in relation to the topic actually being discussed, that being the inclusion of Trans athletes into biological women’s sports. That is, unless of course, Chris Rock decides to kick being a comedian to the curb, and realize his life-long dream of trying out for the WNBA.

Speaking of the WNBA, let’s take a gander at how much Edusave believes in the sanctity of his own publicly expressed opinion regarding the protection of one of its top female players, a proud woman of color, who dared use the rights afforded to her by the Constitution  of these here United States, and see just how strong his conviction of chivalry holds when it’s applied to someone he doesn’t like:.

So much for protection, right Caesar? This sort of hypocrisy is exactly why you remain the 2nd most popular salad in America. You’re not half bad overall, but you’re also no Coleslaw either, which oddly, is the most lauded. Not only does Ms. Grenier have the right to protest this country as specifically stated within our most sacred of documents, the protection to do so has been extended to her by the same, as well.

Therefore, feel free to f**k off and go suck some eggs as you do so. It might even improve your social standing among the salad conscienti, and mythical God knows, you need all the help you can get to offset the damage you inflict upon society every time you open that ignorant maw you call a mouth.

I’ve often noted just how specifically obsessed conservatives are with the sexual practices and particular genitalia involved with such in relation to the LGBTQ community, which of course, is not peculiar at all, considering how much the very same brag about their strongly entrenched heterosexuality, but despite their consistent mewling and finger-pointing that TG’s and Gays are the true purveyors of sexual deviance, they have no problem expressing their own.

Weird, that:

Urk. It’s as if the creepiest cast member of “Porky’s”, didn’t realize the shower scene was over, and is still hanging around, looking through the peephole located just below the water spigots, hoping to catch a furtive glimpse of some future spank-bank currency. Keep in mind, this isn’t some 14-year-old boy posting this horn-dog wet-dream, it’s an adult in advanced middle-age instead, and it’s literally creepy, if not predatory, as f**k.

But please conservatives, protect our womenfolk from those ever so dangerous Transfolk. You know… when you’re done ogling them as if they were pieces of meat? After all, as we’ve already distinguished, if there’s one thing that so-called Christian middle-aged men such as Hickam, possess in bucket-loads far more than anyone else, it’s concerned respect for women:

OK. That’s just an unfortunately tasteless joke, we’ve all told those at one point or another, right? I’m sure Hickam would never make a serious inference that a woman being forced against their will to do something horrific, is somehow amusing, entertaining, or even socially acceptable. In fact, I’m sure of it:

For f**k’s sakes what the hell is wrong with these incel man-n=boys? Oh wait… just answered my own question, I think. However, I’m sure that despite his disgusting forays into grade-school immaturity, Hickam has, and this down deep inside, nothing but the finest of opinions regarding a woman’s place in society. Once again, I’m going to roll the dice, and put full faith in this assessment:

And with that, my atheism is reborn. JFC, does anybody else get the feeling that Hickam regards the “Forum” section of Penthouse Magazine as the epitome of non-fiction writing, or is it more realistic to assume that he won’t read anything that doesn’t come with a centerfold to begin with?  

But let’s not forget, these are the noble warriors who, out of sheer concern for no less than Humanity itself, are going to “protect” women from… well, obviously not the perverts who post stuff like this, that’s for damn sure. And the evidence for this, comes straight from the horse’s mouth, or to be more accurate, the horse’s ass:
I can’t even begin to tell you how secure I am in my feeling, that a person who openly brags about their lack of empathy for those that are different than themselves, should be the ones offered the role of unsolicited protectors for a gender they’ve already predetermined as being at risk of victimization, unless they step up and step in. Given that perspective, what could possibly go wrong, other than everything?

Consider me off-kilter here, but does anyone else believe that persons who obsess over the lifestyles of total strangers that don’t directly affect them one iota, in any way, shape, pr form, have the emotional capability to separate their personal discomfort from their inherent overriding sense of self-righteousness? I may be a cynical optimist, but that doesn’t mean my cynicism takes a backseat to the reality of things, either.

By way of example, let’s take a look at a random assortment of these ever so noble closeted feminists and wonder at the intellectual depth that they express in regards to one of the most pressing issues that modern-day women are currently facing, that being the right to control their own body autonomy.

First, let’s dissect the appallingly ignorant and misogynistic declaration by the widely reviled Trump boot-lick Congressman Madison Cawthorn, who once advised parents that, “if you are raising a young man, please raise them to be a monster” a suggestion that his spawning units apparently undertook as a successfully completed challenge, given his alleged sexual harassment of female classmates during his college days, has also gone on the record with his POV concerning the act of abortion, by depicting said act as, and I quote;

“Imagine you’ve just walked out of this chamber and outside is a gorgeous sunset. You have a Polaroid camera and you snap a beautiful picture, and a great photo prints out the front. You hold it and shake it, waiting for the picture to appear, but suddenly someone walks by and snatches your photo, ripping it to shreds. You’re stunned. You cry, ‘Why did you destroy my picture?’ The person replies, ‘Oh, it wasn’t a picture. It wasn’t fully developed yet.’ All of us in this room realize how asinine that reasoning is.

{Yes, we DO realize just how asinine your analogy is, but please continue, Wheelchair Hitler.]

That photo was transforming into a beautiful image. This illustration by Seth Gruber is simple, but it’s what our nation has done to the most precious image of all- the image of God. A silent genocide has slipped beneath the conscience of America. Precious works of our creator, formed and set apart, meet death before they breathe life. Eternal souls woven into earthen vessels sanctified by almighty God and endowed with the miracle of life are denied their birth by a nation that was born in freedom.”

Other than the fact that the very idea of a partially-paralyzed Cawthon talking about abortion is akin to his lecturing the able-bodied on how to successfully run a marathon, this just may be, for my money, about as close as one can get to calling women mindless livestock, without using the actual words to do so.

I’d go one step further, and opine that if our uterus-lacking incel here truly regards women as no more than mere empty vessels eagerly awaiting his obviously deficient swimmers, the only jar he’ll be making a consensual deposit in, is the one left over from his making himself a PB&J sandwich, quietly eaten over the sink in his studio apartment. But this definitive reality aside, Cawthon is hardly standing alone whereas his mewling misogyny is concerned.

While this is to be expected, it’s also a given that the people spreading this Caveman cravenness, are also the ones stereotypically crowing about just how much of a dedicated advocate they are for Women’s rights in general, To kick off this assertion of mine, let’s start with this fine example of nuanced  subtlety, courtesy of one Dominic Romero, who, as we will soon see whereas the noble cause of Women’s body autonomy is concerned, is analogous to what Parkinson’s Disease represents for those who defuse landmines for a living:

Now on the surface, this doesn’t seem like an arrogant declaration at all, nor does it strike me as an unreasonable expectation, either. But leave it to an Usher of the Uterine to take a moment of rationality, drag it out back behind the woodshed, and pump two bullets into it, Ol’ Yeller style:
Yup ladies. While it may take “Two to Tango” as it were, in the end, your getting pregnant is still all your fault. How could you possibly not know that already? After all, haven’t we men been telling you that since you were born? We didn’t, you say? Oops. Our bad. I could have sworn we covered it in the meetings you’re not allowed to attend.

Sure, there may not be a single law on the books that regulate men’s bodies, but rest assured, we’ll happily instruct you as to what you can (and cannot) do with yours, and if you’re as smart as you think you are, you’ll pay attention for once. Besides, you can’t expect a guy to be accountable, can you? That’s like so unrealistic.

In fact, Romere here, ever the gracious gentleman, even has some visionary ideas for future provisions regarding your inability to keep your whorish legs closed, and as expected, no such rules will be applied to any of the men you so foolishly allowed to enter your gated community, because… “reasons”, I guess:

Is this a fresh take on hypocritically arrogant chauvinism or what? Truly, an inspiring idea- let’s punish women for daring to choose their own lives over the one we’ve falsely ascribed to a clump of cells that can’t live outside of its host, so that later on, we can demonize the mother for having a child that we won’t give a damn about once it’s born.

Even if it does lead to an ever-expanding cycle of poverty and proves to be a crippling burden on our society at large, isn’t that worth the price others will have to pay, just so that a bunch of uterus-deprived demagogues can feel morally superior? Of course, it is. After all, isn’t it the natural order of things that these wannabe Plaster Blasters are the ones who run Bartertown?

In the impotent world that alleged Neandertals like Romero drag their knuckles through, men are infallible, and women are always at fault, irrespective of the actual facts at hand. Notice by the way, he also puts no responsibility for an unintended pregnancy on the men involved, as by doing so, he’d have to openly acknowledge their culpability as well- a fact he obviously hates to discuss

Adding further insult to injury, Romero’s suggestion that prescribed birth control is the ultimate panacea for the abortion issue is disingenuous as hell, when you take into account that not only does the political party he supports openly thwarts access to such, it goes out of its way as well, to harass both the clinics that provide it, and the public education programs that teach the essentials concerning its proper use.

However, Romero does have a keen insight on just why women want to keep abortion legal, and astonishingly, it has nothing to do with the very real issues of personal choice as to one’s unwillingness to be a possibly impoverished mother, and most certainly, it has nothing whatsoever to do with making sure women don’t die from the once-practiced back-alley methods, either.

Nope. In Romero’s estimation, it’s all due to women’s love of… you know what? I’m just going to let this jackasses memes and comments speak for themselves, because if I have to actually transcribe it onto the pixilated page, I might just feel the need to go drink hand sanitizer until my soul feels clean again:
There is, I dare say, much to unpack here, is there not? Not only do we have barely retrained passive-aggressive slut-shaming, (a cultural penance applied only to women) there’s also chauvinistic ignorance, spiteful jealously, and a roiling undercurrent of seething hatred regarding the societal freedom currently granted to strongly independent, if not sexually confident, women as well.

If I didn’t know better, I’d have to assume that Romero’s favorite phrase after calling such women he doesn’t know “whores”, is the classic demand that they get their asses back in the kitchen where they belong, and get to stepping making him a sandwich, like yesterday. Obviously, I’m kidding of course, because even though Romero comes off as a sexist case of walking whiskey-dick, I’m sure he has nothing but the deepest of respect for those women who are married:Or maybe not. I really need to start listening to my gut more, and far less to Mr. Rogers, I think.

Reading this asinine immaturity, you might think that Romero is in his early 20’s, and therefore, doesn’t know any better. Unfortunately for society, the only correlation Romero has to the low 20’ss is the charting numbers of his assumed IQ, which is even more disturbing, when you realize that both he and I could have a conversation about the early days of MTV, and not have to explain to each other any of the cultural references that are sure to be made.

Thankfully, despite all of his blatant sexism, his impotent rage regarding women who dare not notice him, and his failed attempts at placing the blame (as it were) for the necessity of abortion solely on women alone, Romero does offer us yet one last fresh take towards solving what he regards as a societal abomination for the greater good. And trust me, it’s just as insane as you might think:
I’m gonna make a recommendation here- if Romero really wants to make this fever-dream of his a reality, I’d suggest that he ups the stakes somewhat, and offers an enticement that no sane woman could ever refuse. For every woman he can successfully convert into a Transperson, ten more who don’t, would no longer have to listen to his rants, his ignorance, or meet his leering gaze in public, ever again.

Think about it. He gets to see the number of American abortions reduced, the transformed women never have to be subjected to his directly-targeted sexist behavior ever again, and the chances of his efficaciously breeding without the aid of his mom’s credit card and a case of tequila, are knocked down to less than zero, so quite literally, everyone involved walks away with a definitive win.

However, for young Tommy Adcock here, who just so happens to be our next contender in this ongoing Battle of The Sexist, the very idea of a woman transforming herself past what he considers an acceptable limit, is something that he personally can’t abide:
Ah, misogynists… you never fail in your quest to consistently remind some women why every now and then, a shower massager is really worth the money they invested in it. Anybody else noticing a pattern here? As the old joke goes; “A Slut is a woman who f**ks a lot of guys, but if she won’t f**k you, then it’s obvious that she’s just a Bitch”, and my gut instinct here, tells me that Tommy knows far more bitches, then he does sluts.

Let’s just call it an educated hunch, and leave it at that.

Nevertheless, Adcock, much like Romero did, brings a truly unexpected twist on an old Pro-Choice refrain, that being the consensus that no man male should have a say whatsoever in the regulation or even the discussion, of the legality of abortion, a position I fully support, with the lone exception being the father of said to be aborted child weighing in, and even then – the ultimate decision to carry to term or not, should still rest without question on the shoulders of the one who’ll actually be doing the work.

But whereas Romero’s detestable opinion was mired in the roots of his own stunning ignorance, Adcock’s seem to be fueled by the most insane of supplications, that being… what the heck, once again, I’ll just let this f**king moron speak for himself:

For the record, when any democrat of note refers to a man getting pregnant, it’s in relation to Trans-women who’ve transitioned ideologically, rather than physically, and these Fallopian f**k tards know this, but selectively choose to ignore this inconvenient factoid, because let’s face it- faux outrage requires a villain, and what better fallback is there than choosing one that you can “prove’ is an idiot?

To be fair, their knowledge of Trans-physiology is as well-informed as their knowledge of what constitutes the actual presence of sentient and sustainable Life, but I digress for now, as I literally don’t have the patience to explain to these fanciers of the Fetus, a concept that they failed to grasp in middle school.

I don’t believe that I have to point this scientifically established detail yet again, but until a developing fetus can survive OUTSIDE OF THE WOMB, it is not, and never has been, a “child” in the traditional sense of the word. Man, it’s painful to admit, but Tommy was so much cooler when he used to play that silver ball, versus hitting that silver pipe, as he seems to be doing now.

Just keep this almost unimportant detail in mind, boys and especially the girls, these are the men who swear that they will “protect you” from the “perversion” that is modern-day Transgenderism. I’m sure that must bring you a great deal of personal comfort, am I right?

Well, as the saying goes: “It takes one to know one”, and to that end, as well as serving as a conduit to wrapping up this screed, may I present to you yet again, the misogynist’s Great White Dope, Wayne Robert Hickam, whom we had the displeasure of meeting a few passages ago.

Before I post some of Hickam’s further adventures in showcasing just what happened to that kid in your grade school who spent most of his time trying to look up your skirt, I’d remind you all again, that this gag-inducing gargoyle, is one of your future “protectors”. So… good luck with that.

Seriously. Because you’re going to need all the luck you can get:

Isn’t it strange, that for people who consistently claim to be more moral than most of their political contemporaries, the very same sure do spend a lot of time making the air festering around them exceedingly creepy, do they not? Other than the fact that a part of my 70’s-era childhood just vomited before hanging itself with Snoopy’s leash, I’d like to point out that in the “Peanuts” comics, these kids representational age is widely accepted as being around four.

Read that again… FOUR YEARS OLD. As in, not adults. Kids. You know, the fragile demographic that conservatives screech shouldn’t know anything about sex until they’re much older? I can only assume from the willing posting of this pedophilic-based humor, that apparently, the division responsible for the crafting of vile fellatio jokes didn’t get that particular memo in time, evermore the pity.

We’ve already seen that Hickam’s sense of intellectual humor (so-called) hovers somewhere around the IQ equivalency of an overflowing septic tank, but even for him, this is truly disgusting, no matter how you look at it. But leave it to this walking shallow end of the gene pool, to take the putrid, and ferment it into an even more reprehensible form, as he manages to do here, without a shred of regretful awareness:

Take a good look at this image. Just how old do you think those two girls on the end are? Fourteen? Fifteen, tops? And this guy and the others of his ilk, seriously consider themselves morally superior to those who’ve done nothing worth noting as nefarious, save past finally embracing their truth? Get the f**k out of here with that bulls**t, bro.

I say this with all due seriousness- Hickam strikes me as the type of guy that if you saw him sitting quietly by himself, just outside the boundaries of a shopping malls’ play-area, you’d instinctively ask it’s rent-a-cops mall cop to have him kicked out, even if it was only to err on the side of caution. Who in their right middle-aged mind, would even begin to find this amusing or appropriate? And yes, this was pointed out to him, albeit by someone who seems equally nonplussed by it:

Maybe Hickam is truly young in his metaphorical heart, but without exception, he also appears to be far sicker in the head, as a rule. Move along folks… nothing to see here except the possibility of a future cautionary tale forming right before our very own eyes. I used to wonder where alleged deviants like this were manufactured, but nowadays, I’m of the belief that it’s less of a design flaw as I once assumed, and more of a societal mutation that’s been taking place.

At this time, it’s pretty much past the concept of a demonstrable theorem, that anytime a Conservative deigns to point a finger at a Liberal, the remaining nine are not only pointing back at themselves, but wildly signaling for help as well.

Think of just how many GQPer’s you’ve heard about, doing the exact opposite of what they claim is their moral center: hypocrites who inflict hypocrisy, racists who claim racism is imaginary while spewing it, homophobes who get caught having homosexual affairs, American patriots who idolize foreign dictators, and in a twist that everybody saw coming, self-declared anti-pedophiles who engage in pedophiliac behavior, while claiming to carry the very spirit of Jesus and his teachings, inside their hearts.

It’s no secret that America has a multitude of issues; income and racial inequality, sexism, a range of revolting phobias based in a willful ignorance targeting disparate elements religious, cultural, and societal, but JFC… the bulls**it inflicted upon this country by its most extreme political faction, has to be directly and openly, addressed before we all find ourselves living in the dystopian landscape of a Mad Max flick.

Don’t get me wrong, I could easily rock the tire-shoulder-pads and assless chaps aesthetic of the proverbial Wasteland, but I see no need to do so, if it’s at all possible to turn our collective ship away from the intellectually-void iceberg field that the reprehensible Alt-right demands this country venture into.

Don’t get me wrong, I could easily rock the tire-shoulder-pads and assless chaps aesthetic of the proverbial Wasteland, but I see no need to do so, if it’s at all possible to turn our collective ship away from the intellectually-void iceberg field that the reprehensible Alt-right demands this country venture into. The time to act was actually yesterday, but that doesn’t mean we still can’t act now, to rend their divisiveness limb to limb as we should, and endeavor to mend the torn fabric of our American spirit.

Hate is a choice. Willful ignorance is a choice. Racism, Sexism, Homophobia, Islamophobia, Fear of the Other are all choices, both corrosive and cravenly. And not only must these aberrations of the soul be stopped with no hope given to their further advance, the retreat back into the darkness from which they sprang, must be a mandatory aspect as well.

No quarter given. No prisoners taken. No mercy bestowed. A policy of scorched earth, and salted water. Because if we as a society, do not fulfill the founding promise of this country as a haven to all, regardless of creed, color, culture, or community, then the person who composed this monstrosity for public dissemination, and the ones detestably and ideologically aligned with him, will set the ruling standard for not only the seasoned and mature among us…

… but for future generations as well, and I for one, am not going to let persons I wouldn’t want to be sharing a 30-second elevator ride with, dictate just who gets to be what, in the country that’s always been based on the bedrock of personal freedom. So, to the slithering mass of meandering and mentally obese mouth-breathers both depicted here and currently lurking in the shadows of the Internet, I offer some free and gracious counsel, if I may.

Not only is the LGBTQ Community not going back in the closet so that you can feel comfortable, and along those lines, no one is going to convert to your sociopathic religion, for the same reason, either. And as for that whole schtick of yours in concern to “protecting” the fairer sex from the realities of the world entire?

The only deviants, (as some here within this screed have proven) that women need to be sheltered from, are the men who arrogantly believe that they were chartered to undertake this unnecessary role in the first place. Try teaching your sons to not harass, sexually assault and degrade women first, before you worry about an alternative lifestyle community that at worst, may complement their shoes, long before they do anything even remotely and heterosexually violent.

Keep this thought in mind as you go to sleep tonight- your cravenly impotent brood just declared war on two of the most dedicated to multitasking demographics on the planet, who, both as individuals and as a tight-knit community, have faced even the most ardent of challenges your gender has thrown at them, and they’ve survived them all.

Despite your attitude borne out of testosterone and supreme overconfidence. I can assure you, that this was most definitely not the wisest of chess moves. This erroneous conclusion that you will succeed given enough time, in and of itself, was quite the stupid one, and I’ll tell you why.

Women, whom as a general rule of thumb, are best never trifled with, will be coming for your pointy little skulls sooner than later, and given the fact that they’ve been removing the evidence of a literally equivalent crime scene once a month, since the age of 13 or so, hiding your bodies is gonna be a walk in the park for the majority of them. And as for that remaining aspect of Transgenderism that some of you think will eventually breed itself out of existence?

If the women are collectively coming for your skulls, what part of your anatomy do you think that the TG municipality will be desiring as recompense for all of your abominable and hateful trans-gressions (pun definitely intended) against them and the ones that they love?

See, what’s really going on here, isn’t the fact that these demagogues fear what the LGBTQ community will do to women and their related interests, what they truly fear, is the limited possibility that said comm unity will perceive and treat them in very much the same way that they’ve gotten accustomed to treating women. Food for thought, and all that happy jazz.

So… good luck with that, because you’re definitely gonna need it.

And with that, we’re done for now, methinks. But when we come back, I’ll be dipping my metaphorical toes into the ocean of Conservative Intellectualism, and coming out completely bone-dry.

-FINI-

 

“It is not an overstatement to say that the destiny of the entire human race depends on what is going on in America today. This is a staggering reality to the rest of the world; they must feel like passengers in a supersonic jetliner who are forced to watch helplessly while a passel of drunks, hypes, freaks, and madmen fight for the controls and the pilot’s seat.”  – Eldridge Cleaver, Soul on Ice, 1968

 

 

 

 


Conspiracy Drearies. Pt. 1 (Mad Mad World)

“I had noticed that both in the very poor and very rich extremes of society the mad were often allowed to mingle freely.” – Charles Bukowski, Ham on Rye

Greetings, Bitchiteers!

how is everyone doing? Are we as a whole, fully recovered from the over-inflated trauma of watching the Fresh Prince bitch-slap Long Dong Silver, or is that still a topic we need to keep beating into dust? Why do I bring up yesterday’s news to start off this, the newest of my therapy sessions masquerading as social commentary?

It’s all because of the morass of moronic mental meandering that I stumble upon while skipping handfuls of metaphorical stones across the deceptively shimmering surface of the anaerobic lagoon that is the World Wide Web. To be fair, the Internet is equally amazing and abominable, showcasing both the best and the worst that Humanity has to offer, with perhaps the lone exception being whomever greenlit the reboot of “Fame”, in 2009.

While it’s given us all the bliss that only watching hamsters eating tiny burritos can provide, there’s also the effervescent joy that is B. Dylan Hollis recreating vintage recipes, the end result of which, is that along with discovering some new unforeseen gastronomic delights, his warmth and hilarity that emerges as he does so, will do nothing less than restore your ever-dwindling faith in Humanity:

Seriously. Go follow this dude on YouTube and TikTok, and I guarantee that you will not be sorry that you did,  

Getting back on track, the creation of the Web has also sadly given us the unfettered rise in the dissemination of ignorance, paranoia, White supremacist outreach, and of course, the subject of today’s screed, that being Conspiracy Theories.  But what exactly are those, the naïve among you may ask? Well, as I like to refer to them, they’re philosophical discussions for people who actually believe that the 1987 Whitley Streiber novel “Communion”, was based on real-life events,

However, the widely accepted definitive is as such: “An attempt to explain harmful or tragic events as the result of the actions of a small powerful group. Such explanations reject the accepted narrative surrounding those events; indeed, the official version may be seen as further proof of the conspiracy.”

In simpler terms, they’re generally biased fever-dreams that are taken with far too much credence, and to help kick off todays tumble into this ever-widening rabbit hole of inanity, I present this gem of gibberish, courtesy of previous Artbitch scratching post and one of my favorite human analogs for a bowl of barely sentient pudding skin, Mr. Richard (“Ricardo”) Leyba:

This ludicrously insane supposition, yet one more example of just how delusionally disconnected the extremist arm of the alt-right movement is from accepted reality, illustrates perfectly just why they’re inherently more dangerous than comical.  

While I am open to the concept of governments engaging in the act of misdirection, I do have a hard time believing that the best option that the Deep State agents who stole the 2020 election had in reserve to draw attention away from the dealings of the Supreme Court, was to set a pop culture icon of the 90’s loose upon the stage of an awards show that moist Americans didn’t even know was on.

Truly, the most cunning of plans, worthy of Machiavelli’s respect, if not notation.

But as we’ve observed, January Sixth being the prime example of such, the dark lands that they roam, are devoid of anything save for fear, unwarranted suspicion, and their devotion to a warped faith which espouses that no occurrence is random, and that all that does transpire, is no less than the end result of predetermined and malevolent machination, put in play by an ever-changing roster of imagined enemies.

This, in and of itself, is nothing new, whereas the world of politics is concerned, for crafted propaganda has always served as a metaphorical cudgel of the influential and those hoping to eventually be, but this previous incarnation has been cast aside as of late, in favor of a far more weaponized rhetoric whose strength comes not from the sanctity of its argument, but from the wellspring of destructive divisiveness that it can generate.

And when such a virulent toxin is disseminated via a conduit that is truly accessible 24/7, the first casualty will always be rationality, if not cultural civility. Especially when the cloak of anonymity that the Internet provides, remains as of yet, immunely impenetrable.

Yesterday’s cravenly under their breath public mutterer, has become today’s online conservative warrior, and so long as they can remain hidden within their fortress of sardonic sullenness, they’ll keep punching far above their weight class, and then as they lay there bleeding from the bating that they just took, claim a victory they did not actually achieve. Now, while some might label this mindset as nothing less than the most pathetic of delusions, I’d respectfully disagree.

If anything, I for one, would say that it’s right on brand.

For instance, I have always loved it when conservatives take a positive cultural development, and due to their inability to educate themselves, turn it into a politically charged Cause célèbre fueled by ignorance, which sadly, seems to be the only way that they can inspire their minions into undertaking a course of action. Next to the act of utilizing either the physicality of a burning cross, or the imagery of a Confederate flag, that is.

In a nutshell, your typical modern-day conservative isn’t that bright, and quite honestly, has no desire to be. So, the very idea of their not immediately swallowing an outlandish concept set loose by the bey people who directly profit form it, such as the GQP leadership, conservative media companies, and of course, the merchandising arms of the Trump and QAnon cabals, is optimistic at best, unless of course you too, believe in the “War on Christmas”, the “Big Lie”, and that the 2020 election was “stolen” by agents of the so-called Deep State.

If so, here’s your conservative gift bag containing your “Trump 2024” hats, t-shirts, and yard signs, to warn everyone who may come in contact with you, that you are indeed, a total f**king idiot, worthy of both contempt and mockery. But to be fair, you should probably be used to that by now, considering you post stuff like this:

But then almost immediately, if not hypocritically, engage in an act of self-ownership by doing stuff like this:

But please, my ever so moral and upright Patriots, please continue to lecture us, the people already standing on the right side of history, as to which side of the political fence is the real enemy to America’s cherished Freedoms. You know, when you’re done legislating not only what language can be used when schools discuss the LGBTQ community, but attempting to remove women’s body autonomy, and determine what aspects of American history should be covered in a ten-foot layer of literal whitewash as well?

While Donald Trump may be the closest that the GQP has ever gotten to successfully assembling their very own version of Frankenstein’s monster save for the humanity and the broad appeal to the intelligent, their ingredient list for concocting such, as well the enablers that slavishly protect him, is a tried-and-true recipe that goes back decades, and is for MAGAts, is as easily swallowed, as pudding is to the toothless.

To create such a person, you will need to do the following: combine equal parts of fear, xenophobia, jingoism, nationalism, and willful ignorance, mix with a smattering of suspicion and religious hypocrisy, pour into an empty shell of a human being, sprinkle with ignorance, and bake in the crucible of an ever-changing for the better culture, until the racist icing turns completely White, and unbiddenly, starts boasting of its self-styled pride in being so.

And whatever you do, don’t forget to serve it with a side dish of mewling misogyny, because mythical God knows, your undersized genitalia can’t handle independent women doing things without your unnecessary approval:

I don’t want to cast unwarranted derision upon this obviously defective individual here, but does anybody else get the feeling that this man-boy’s idea of a successful three-way involves being able to freely douse his hands with Jergen’s lotion, and managing to find himself being left alone in his mom’s garage for two and a half minutes?

Whew. For a second, I thought it was only me.

I’ve often made light of modern-day conservatives for positioning themselves as inadvertent beacons for well-deserved mockery, as it’s truly the one area of their lives that they tend to overachieve in. But as of late, finding humor within the framework of their intellectual void, is becoming increasingly difficult, as their already fragile grip on collective reality is, on the face of it, crumbling faster than a Kardashian that’s been denied access to their on-call team of plastic surgeons.

Case in point:

have no idea what is going on in the interior of the squeaking hamster wheel that serves as this person’s brain, but I’m going to take a wild stab in the dark, and assume that their being forcibly medicated in the hopefully near future, might not be an entirely bad thing. And as a side observation, I am somewhat curious if the number of persons mentioned in the ”is with” tag, are actually real people, or is this seemingly mentally ill individual just trying to quell the screaming voices within his otherwise empty head?

Sadly, when it comes to flights of rapidly escalating fancy, my obsessively cap-locked friends here, are not alone, as ever increasingly, the GQP finds itself serving as a cravenly catch-all for whom the term “conspiracy nut” was so diplomatically crafted.

Granted, these simplistic sheeple would most likely prefer that we use the term “Truth Seekers” instead, but to be fair, if I were to describe myself to others in the way that I would favor, I’m pretty sure I’d tend to go with the descriptive of “Milla Jovovich’s side-squeeze”, every chance I got.

Nevertheless, my interest in being the boy-toy of Resident Evil’s bad-ass bitch aside, it’s still far less insane than some of the more… let’s just say, “unique” theorems that this mob of muttonheads have come up with, such as these gems, courtesy of a woman who I feel should come with her own warning label, if not a lifetime supply of Clozapine:

Far be it from me to look a gift horse in the mouth, but as far as unexpected presents go, this one delivered straight from the hands of the Writing Gods above, is more reward than I deserve. I’m not sure which divine literary deity decreed that I should be the recipient of this cornucopia of warped character, but I swear upon the ghost of Kurt Vonnegut himself, that I’ll do my humble best to milk it, as if I were Melania Trump at a Rothschild family reunion.

However, never let it be said, or even implied, that when it comes to unhinged bon mots, that the GQP doesn’t take its responsibilities seriously. That’s the best part about the functionally insane- to them, the act of serving up slices of cray-cray souffle such as these are commonplace, but to a writer like myself, they sparkle as if they were diamonds glued to a disco ball.Seriously. How could I not appreciate lunacy such as this? It has everything: clones, CGI avatars, crisis actors, and best of all, a plot lifted straight out of 2013’s “G.I. Joe: Retaliation”, wherein the “real” President of the United States, is replaced by a double, who’s allied with the terrorist organization known as COBRA. On his best day, even J.J Abrams couldn’t come up with a plot line as stupid as this, and keep in mind, he’s the guy who co-wrote the screenplay for Armageddon, starring Ben Affleck.

What’s even more bizarre, is how Storbeck mutated the “shot” that Trump referenced in relation to Biden, as it never once suggested the theory that Biden had been replaced with a lookalike, but instead, Trump’s groundless and wholly crass accusation that doctors had given Biden, and this, according to the mango-tinted poster boy for Adderall, a “big fat shot in the a**.”, to increase his energy, not end his life.

But hey… I guess for some people, context is really hard when all those crayons you shoved up your nose in kindergarten, still haven’t been removed. Amazingly though, this isn’t even the best stop on the way to conservative Crazytown, because believe it or not, there’s another posting by Storbeck that actually manages to turn the volume of its own insanity up one more notch to eleven, the Holy Grail of sound so brilliantly achieved by the lead guitarist of Spinal Tap, the incomparable Nigel Tufnel.

Normally, I wouldn’t bring out the main act before the opening band, but this wackadoo warble, may just be the lone exception to that rule. I mean… if I have Freddie Mercury cooling his heels backstage, why on Earth would I make anyone suffer through an hour-and-a-half of Smashmouth, just to hear the only two good songs that they ever made? Those are of course, “”Walkin’ on the Sun”, and their banging cover of the Monkees. “I’m a Believer”.

Yeah, I said it. Come at me, “All-Star” devotees. I dare ya’

One of the beautiful things about narratives such as the one I’m about to present to the world entire on Storbeck’s behalf, is just how multifaceted they can be. On the one hand, they’re nuttier than Gary Busey mainlining Red Bull, and on the other, more pathetic than Ted Cruz desperately attempting to cosplay as both a man and as a human being.

Sure, the end result of watching such, is always the joy of knowing that he’s quite bad at it, but isn’t it just a little bit sad, that nobody ever tells him to stop, even if it’s only out of pity?  However, I don’t pity mouth-breathers like Storbeck, because this kind of irrational conceptualization has less to do with being led astray by others, and far more to do with willfully going down the rabbit hole, because you find Reality far too challenging.

Say what you will about Donald Trump, and lord knows, there’s room to do so, but I’ve yet to hear him spout off about non-terrestrial aliens in public. And keep in mind this is the same guy who once told the American people that windmill noise causes cancer, and then went on to later inform a crowd of reporters that; “Women are tied up, they’re bound, duct tape put around their faces, around their mouths, in many cases, they can’t even breathe. They’re put in the backs of cars or vans or trucks.”

So, if anything, I may have to actually grant him some leeway down the road, in regards to his buffoonery, especially when bulls**t like this, is disseminated as vitally required information:

Wow. Just… wow. Not only does Storbeck believe in the psychosis that every single human being on Earth is the unwitting carrier of extraterrestrial DNA, she also ascribes to the madness that in every city as well, there are dormant squads of people who have been, and I quote; “MKultra’d”, to boot.

For those unfamiliar with this term, it refers to a once-secret human experimentation program that was overseen by the CIA, and which followed in the footsteps of similar programs such Project Bluebird and Project Artichoke. MK Ultra exploited the debatably effective techniques of brainwashing and psychological torture, as well as the use of psychotropic drugs such as LSD, in order to break down mental resistance from individuals who found themselves facing invasive interrogation.

Due to MK Ultra’s far-reaching scope, malevolently masquerading as legitimate scientific research, an unknown number of unsuspecting test subjects found themselves abused, by no less than 80 esteemed institutions, ranging from the expected, such as pharmaceutical companies, to colleges and hospitals, until the program was disbanded without fanfare, sometime around1973.

And ever since it’s existence was made known to the American public in 1975, its been a favorite fallback for both the clinically paranoid, and those who spirt tin-foil condoms. It’s basically the synopsis of the 1977 Charles Bronson movie “Telefon”, but whereas that film dealt with the issue of Russian sleeper agents posing as American citizens, Storbeck goes one better, and substitutes the Harvesters from 1996’s “Independence Day”, but only after suggesting that they’ve gotten it on with humans first.

You know, come to think of it… I would watch the f**k out of a movie like that, but I seriously doubt I’d be able to maintain the suspension of disbelief required, in order to do so.

Obviously, I’m kidding, but it’s fairly apparent that Storbeck is not, which leads me to question as to whether her beliefs stem from the seemingly supported contention that she’s possibly mentally ill, or, as the preliminary evidence also suggests, no more than just another f**king idiot, unfortunately blessed with internet access.

Decades from now, when this era in American history is to be discussed by the enlightened few still among us, I for one, hope that the question of just how otherwise rational people willingly turned into the political equivalent of a Manson Family member, will not only have been answered, but used as a prophetic blueprint of sorts, to prevent such a societal abomination from ever happening again.

Don’t get  me wrong, I completely understand the urge to laugh at stupidity ;like this, but I’m also mindful of the damage that it can inflict if left unimpeded as well. Remember, not only are these people allowed to drive, breed, and openly handle guns and sharp stabby things without adult supervision, they can also vote, and they do, much to the detriment of this once respected republic.

While that very thought is definitively unsettling, independent of itself, is the knowledge that their paranoic worldview isn’t just limited to the world of politics, but to all the aspects connected to it, be they cultural, societal, or ethical. Is downright terrifying. As the late Canadian writer Jane Rule once so accurately noted; “Morality is a test of our conformity rather than our integrity.”, and nobody proves this assertion better than your modern-day conservative.

Take this example for instance, wherein my town’s resident Cafeteria Christian, Ruth Darlene Seawolf, sets us all straight regarding an issue that I can only assume is an affront to the voices in her head alone, as I’ve never heard anyone else ever complain about it:

So, what apparently unchecked social crisis is currently occurring, that has Seawolf clutching her faux pearls online? Well, shockingly for a so-called Christian, it’s not the issue of homelessness, or of children going hungry, nor is it the rampant racism, economic inequality, misogyny, and homophobia infesting our national fabric, either. What then, could it possibly be?

Well, I’ll just let Seawolf’s re-post speak for itself:

Like most people, I’ve attended my fair share of weddings. But I can also attest, and this without the fear of future contradiction that despite the variance of the nuptials that I’ve been a guest at, I’ve yet to witness one that would qualify as a truly au naturel soiree. In addition, I’ve also never heard anyone applying descriptive to the bride in attendance, as if she were constructed out of foodstuffs, as a rule.

And I say this as someone who’s been to no less than three adult film star weddings. Sure, the scenery was nice, but really, the most memorable thing about all of them, was the truly phenomenal catering. A wedding cake made from individual macrons in three different yet complimentary flavors? That, boys and girls, is how you throw a motherf**king banger.

Now, if you’re a regular reader of mine, you already know who Seawolf is, that being Silver City’s resident canonizer of Christian hypocrisy, but her manufactured outrage vis-à-vis a non-issue that literally has nothing to do with her, takes the metaphorical wedding cake, dos it not? Granted, while her usual whining and disingenuousness is on full display as always, the implication that the groom is the one truly suffering here, is a fresh spin whereas her normal mewling is concerned.

Not to mention, I appreciate her commentary of “Women honor your husband to be and yourself on that day”, whatever the hell that actually means, addressed to whatever allegorical young bride she thinks might actually want the counsel of a middle-aged-one-wang-Willamina-from-Wichita. Nope, that’s not arrogant at all, coming from a woman who almost every day, and that without fail, or any measure of personal introspection manages to embarrass not only her fantastical celestial creator, but herself as well.

As for the statement of “Bridesmaids now dress like street girls”, which is no more than a blatant inference that women who dare dress provocatively are no better than sex workers, I’d point out that both the writer of said comment and the walking Hobby Lobby couch that reposted it, would give up at least two oi their collective chins to be able to wear an outfit that didn’t remind the men in their lives, that they settled far short pf the goalposts.

But as at my core I am a people person, I’d like to be helpful, and point out to Seawolf that if she ever does ever does receive an invite to a strangers wedding, there’s two places where she can stay for free- that being, in her own lane, and out of other people’s business.

Regardless of their hypocrisy, however, morality is one of the most prominent hills that conservatives just love to die on, despite their ongoing support for a dipped in dime store bronzer adulterous demagogue, who’s thrice-married, inherently craven, morally rudderless, and if any of his own self-uttered statements are to be believed, he may eternally serve as the closest thing the White House has ever had to hosting a sexually deviant freakshow, since the days of Martin Van Buren.

Don’t let that hair and grandfatherly demeanor fool you one bit- a Statesmen in the streets, a swordsman in the sheets, was the ol” Marty, and History,will in time, prove me right.

Concerning this torrid tangent, Conservatives are OBSESSED with sex, and not in the way most of us are. I may be the only one who thinks this, and I certainly hope that I am not, but does it strike strange to anyone else that people who claim to be straighter than a Mormon yardstick, spend so much time focusing on the genitalia and gender identity of those they claim they’d rather not share the planet with.

Comedian Michelle Wolf in her Netflix special “Joke Show”, once quipped; “Like, I thought I liked dick, and then I heard a gay guy talk about it, and I was like, “Oh, no, I think it’s just okay.” Gay guys talk about dick the way men wished women talked about dick. Straight men, if you want someone to love your dick, be gay! Gay guys talk about dick the way kids talk about Christmas. They’re like, “Is it here yet? Can I open it?” Women, we talk about dick the way Jews talk about Christmas.”

I’m not going to draw any conclusions here, but I would suggest that if you’re supposedly a straight arrow who spends the majority of your free time ruminating about gay sex or gender reassignment surgery, more than the people actually engaging in it, the time has arrived for you to reevaluate some concepts about yourself, stop hiding behind the Christmas gifts being storied in the back of your symbolic closet, and embrace your truth at last. 

While truth at best depends on not just your perspective, but your experience as well, the fact that conservatives tend to think about dick (or the lack thereof) very much in the same way that I reflect upon what Angeline Jolie would look like modeling a bikini made out of Cool Whip, does open the metaphorical doors of conversation as to just why they feel the need to do so in the first place.

I’ve covered this topic previously (LGBTQ-phobia that is, not Cool Whip based fashion) in relation to the putrid personage that is prior Artbitch honoree Richard “Ricardo” Leyba, whose two main talking points bounce back and forth between his personal disgust at the thought of American children learning actual history, and his unwarranted fear of transsexuals.

But as it is with all things that the alt-right refuses to understand, claiming the victim is really the predator, as they continue to turn a blind eye to the actual ones, is a key deflection tactic.

Proof of this concept, courtesy of said Ricky Retardo, to whom I could point out, that the ratio of heterosexual to homosexual pedophiles has been calculated to be approximately 11:1, but considering his totally not weird at all obsession with this particular  topic, I’d be better off suggesting that he should probably just move in with a rough trick named Scott, and call it a day:

This advice, coming from a person who will rant about Gays & Transpeople at the drop of a hat, but I digress.

I don’t know exactly where Richard went to grade school, but that place sounds lit as f**k. I’m starting to think that most of his anger comes from the fact that when it came to his sexual education classes, his teachers gently let him in on the fact that he wasn’t attractive to either gender, and that in order to cope with this reality, he should probably develop an all-consuming hobby of some sort. Obviously, he followed their advice, but I’m sure they thought he’d become a collector of stamps, rather than one of character flaws.

Oh no! Did somebody accidentally on purpose, forget about Jennifer Williams, the first openly transgender Municipal Chair for the Republican Party in the United States, or Massachusetts House Rep, Althea Garrison, not to mention Republican Town Committee secretary Jordan Evans, as well as former Olympian and loyal Republican Caitlyn Jenner? I guess they did.

If it’s “not about” either sexual discipline Richard, then why is it, that I’ve yet to see you trashing any straight people in regards to inappropriate behavior?

I mean… this is a world in which Comedian Louis C.K, Pixar and Disney Animation chief John Lasseter, movie producer Harvey Weinstein, film director Brett Ratner, as well as actor Jeremy Piven, have all been accused of inapt misconduct, yet you never utter a peep when it’s one of the normies. Odd, that. I’m sure that’s just a minor oversight, given your need to protect America’s children from those that wouldn’t harm them in the first place.

Speaking only for myself, I honestly don’t believe in the construct of Hell, but if it does actually exist, may I suggest to the High Lord of Darkness, that the appropriate punishment for our anti-humanist here, would be the undergoing of whatever gender-reassignment surgery is required for him to be able to go f**k himself for eternity?

As I’ve been showing for quite some time now, the talking points of conservatives rarely (if ever) come from a position of strength, since most of them are drawn from either ignorance or sheer delusion, and when it comes to the topic of pedophilia, it serves as no more than yet another slur of the moment, wherein they accuse anyone who doesn’t openly swear allegiance to Trump, as being either an advocate for its societal implementation, or a devoted practitioner of such.

Considering that Trump has admitted on tape to being an unabashed sexual predator, conservatives’ claims of others engaging in alleged sexual perversity, ring hollow at best. Nevertheless, when they do attempt to inflict their slander upon the populace, in a pathetic effort to slur their adversaries (be they real or imagined), the resultant self-ownership they’ve given form to, is nothing less than amazing:

I honestly can’t say what I find funnier here- the unfortunate semantics that debatably infer that Trump is a pedophile, or the pride that Morris openly displays in regards to selecting his favorite one. Either/or. It’s a win-win, no matter how you choose to look at it

Now, when the threadbare gambit of mixing two unrelated topics together (homosexuality and pedophilia) fails, as it often does in selling their fever dreams as concrete reality, there’s always their bastardized version of Christianity to use as a cudgel of cowardice, instead:

For context, what Terresa us referring to here, is described in the book of Genesis as the circumstances surrounding the moment when God reveals to Abraham, that the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah are to be destroyed for their grave sins. Abraham pleads not only for the lives of any righteous people living there, but for the lives of his nephew, Lot, and his family as well.

God responds to his bequest by agreeing to spare the cities if 50 righteous people can be found, and then, because he’s such an understanding sociopath, acquiesces to spare them if only 10 righteous people can be found as an alternative.

He then commands two angels, appearing in the form of men, to seek out Lot in Sodom, but they encounter a mob described only as “wicked”, who demand for no specific reason, to have sex with them, despite not taking either one of them out for a night on the town first. In an act of selfless sacrifice, Lot instead, suggests that the mob RAPE HIS DAUGHTERS as a compromise, thereby leading to his witnessing the smashing of his “Best Dad Ever” coffee mug upon the floor sometime later,

Despite Lot’s colossal failure as a father, hypocritically scripted as the purest of spiritual obedience, the angelic heralds not only blind the now enraged mob, but set forth the proclamation that only Lot and his family qualify as righteous among the populace, they inform Lot to quickly evacuate the city, as a brimstone storm with a chaser of sulfur is a-comin’.

In spite of their issuing a dire warning that that he should not look back, his wife finds herself turned into a pillar of salt when she does, because God along with being a myth, is also the pettiest of bitches.

Speaking of which, your takeaway from Terresa’s ignorant comment above that she considers herself a “good” Christian, albeit a modern-day one, and you would be %100 right.

And how do I know this? Well first, she likes to break the edict of Exodus 20:16 by bearing false witness:Yeah… never mind the human toll of war, such as the abominable number of innocent civilians remorselessly killed by a callous madman, the thing we should all keep an eye on in relation to this illegal invasion, is making sure that the helium leaking out of your head, is channeled directly into your bulls**t conspiracy theory, instead.

Then of course, there’s Terresa’s embrace of internalized misogyny, which is when women subconsciously project sexist ideas onto other women, and even onto themselves, as seen by the example, wherein she slurs Kamala Harris as a whore, while ignoring the reality that the president whose crassness I’d assume that she pleasures herself to, actually has them on call, because his wife would rather ride a cactus, long before she’d ride him for 30 seconds: 

Let me tell you, there’s no better way to prove that you’re a string woman, than by trying to tear down other women, who unlike you, will actually leave behind a legacy that wasn’t based on just how fast you can shotgun a case of beer. And Terressa? Blowjobs didn’t seem to bug you when your mango-tinted man-child was shelling out 130Kper hummer, but I digress.

As expected, Terresa than pivots, and employs the tried-and-true claim of victimhood, but in this case, adds a disingenuous assertion that the cultural shifts occurring in today’s world aren’t the result of long-held erroneous concepts and stagnant thinking evolving positively, but are instead, the end result of a corrupted society:This false narrative, a favorite consistently echoed by the walking regurgitation parrots that are the GQP base, like most of their inferences, fails to hold water, especially when scrutinized with even the weakest of critical eyes. However, I can never pass up an opportunity to play with my food, so let’s dive in.

first off, the concept of the “traditional” family is no less than archaic these days, given the fact that while society has tried its best to keep up with the ever-evolving face of marriage, conservatives have not, and their attempt to weaponize what was originally a contract based on the premise that women needed to be bound to men as nothing more than acquired property, whose sole purpose was to produce progeny..

This belief, was notated within the Ancient Greece betrothal ceremony, wherein a bride’s father would pass his daughter on to another man, stating as he did so that: “I pledge my daughter for the purpose of producing legitimate offspring.” According to ancient custom, Hebrew men were encouraged to engage in polygamy, while Greek and Roman husbands were expected to acquire concubines, prostitutes, and disturbingly, teenage male paramours, as a rule. You know… like we still do today?

And what was expected of their wives, you ask? Well, it certainly wasn’t an arrangement based on equality, that’s for sure. Essentially, their mission in life was to take care of their house, and satisfy the needs of the three states of mind that all men possess, which my late Oma used to refer to as the “Three H’s”- that being, Happy, Horny, and Hungry.

But yes, let’s not upset that pomegranate cart with actual facts, shall we?

See, what Teressa is really saying here, is not that she’s a fan of what I just described, it’s more that she just can’t abide the reality of the LGBTQ community getting the same protectional benefits of marriage that has always been afforded to the “Straights”, as it were. But look on the bright side, my homophobic hater-;they now also get to lose half their stuff if their marriage falls apart like the rest of us, so hold on to that nugget of bile, whenever you need to warm up your little blackened hear.

However, while some conservatives may also rail about mixed-race marriages in tandem, I won’t paint Terresa with that broad brush, as I’d like to hold onto my optimism that while she’s obviously dumber than a display rack of “Trump 2024 “hats, she’s still smart enough to accept that black people are no longer a piece of property, on the same level that a microwave is currently considered to be.

As for the rest, not wanting to have children nor give up your body autonomy, is not, nor will it ever be, a
“war” on either babies or women. The only persons that I see waging war on those two demographics, are conservatives, who, when not trying to force women to carry the children of their rapists, demand the right to dictate how they live their lives afterward.

Appallingly, the same people screaming “What about the children?!?”, are also the same ones ignoring the alleged sexual crimes of Matt Gaetz, as they carry forward in their attempt to lower the age limitations for, consensual sex and marriage, but I’m certain that Terresa will address that contradictory thornbush at some point, right?

Now to be fair, I’ve had some fun with Terresa’s willful density, but now I’ll top it off with just a smidgen of her hypocrisy, because for not only is it amusing to do so, it’s free, to boot. This is why I love conservatives so damn much- they truly do make mocking them extremely cost-efficient, and for that, I can only offer my sincerest thanks.

If you recall, I started off this facet with Terresa’s posting slurring the LGBTQ community at large, so it would stand to reason that she has a huge issue with their sexual practices, most likely based on her ignorance of the lifestyle and the people who engage in them. Therefore, it would stand to reason that in no way shape, or form, would she ever condone its infliction (as she most certainly sees it) upon another person unwilling to openly experiment with it. Makes sense, does it not?

That is, unless of course it’s enacted against someone she doesn’t like:

Man, Jesus must be so stoked to have this bleached sewer rat on his team, let me tell you. Nothing sates “I’m a good person”, like wishing felonious sexual assault on an individual whose worst transgression was lying about an alleged assault. Not murder. Not rape. Not the abuse of a child. A lie about getting into a racially-based fight. You know, the thing that conservatives do almost every day in some form?

And yet, I don’t see Terresa calling for any of those people to be buggered against their will. For the life of me, I still cannot understand just why modern-day conservatives get tarred and feathered as immature, ignorantly hateful racists, can you? Remember that previous paragraph where I gave Terresa the benefit of the doubt that she wasn’t a bigot?

Yeah, that might have been a tad premature on my part. Seems like I’m gonna have to take that merit badge back ASAP, and replace it with a far more useful dry-cleaning coupon, so that she can keep her collection of white robes spotless, instead. Obviously, I’m joking regarding her wardrobe choices, because when it gets right down to it, how would you clean a white robe that’s actually melded to what used to be your soul?

In regards to Terresa’s declaration that she’s “mad as hell”, and “isn’t going to take it anymore”, I’d opine that her being mad stems less from any actual disagreement, and is based on her being confused by things that are outside her bubble of ignorant influence. Hence the reason why, she’ll be finding herself in the years to come, screeching to a world that doesn’t give a damn what she thinks.

Let’s recap the list of things revealed within this screed, that Republicans have shown that they fear thus far: African-American Supreme Court nominees, non-racist children’s; books, independent women, technology, Hillary Clinton, persons who have been “MKultra’d”, clones, CGI avatars, and of course, crisis actors.

In addition, there’s also the issue of reptilian DNA, immodest brides throwing nude weddings, the LGBTQ community as always, Putin being held accountable for being a warmongering sociopath, an African American woman serving as (Hey! A Theme!) Vice President, non-traditional families, and women making their own choices without asking permission from men first.

Does that about cover it? Good. I always worry about my readers getting lost on their way back to the Lair of Snarkitude, and the last thing I need is for my Lair-owners insurance to go up, just because someone got eaten after finding themselves in front of Cerberus without a box of Milk-Bones, which happens way more than you might think.

Does that about cover it? Good. I always worry about my readers getting lost on their way back to the Lair of Snarkitude, and the last thing I need is for my Lair-owners insurance to go up, just because someone got eaten after finding themselves in front of Cerberus without a box of Milk-Bones, which happens way more than you might think.

Moving forward, the past two years have been a Godsend for those who mainline machinated masturbatory fantasies, along with the people who profit from their manufacture as well. Regardless of the topic being discussed, you can almost certainly guarantee that the conservative cud-chewers who present false narratives as fact, not only have a conspiracy concerning said subject, they’ve got at least two in reserve, just in case it gets debunked.

Popular ones that are still making the rounds state that a worldwide network of ritualistic Satanists along with the global elite, (AKA: “The Deep State” or “The Cabal,”) control not only Hollywood and the entertainment industry at large, but torture and sexually abuse children, for the purpose of drinking their blood in a bid to stay youthful, because as we all know, plastic surgery is so 2015.

According to the spray-paint-huffers who believe this trash, key figures within this shadowy league of influential degenerates allegedly include Tom Hanks, Ellen DeGeneres, Oprah Winfrey, Pope Francis, the late Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, England’s Queen Elizabeth, and of course, Hillary Clinton, who somehow, had the energy to run her branch of this pedophile emporium out of the basement of a pizzeria. in Washington D.C.

Love her or hate her, you have to admit, that woman does know how to multitask.

Strangely though, the morons who accept this as gospel, never seem to have any Republicans on their list of Satanic cabalists, even though as of late, the only prominent people I’ve observed being routinely indicted or accused of sexual crimes, tend to be on the conservative side of the fence. I’m sure that’s not a deliberate oversight, so much as it is just lazy bookkeeping.

In fact, after spending months wading through this sewer of the subconscious, I’m starting to think that the main network that propagates this urine masquerading as journalism, known as One America News, or OAN for short, should probably give some serious consideration to changing its (at one point in time) slogan from “Your Source for Credible News”, to this far more accurate representation:

Thanks to these Alt-Right-wingnuts, we’re still hearing about the mass delusion that Trump not only won the 2020 election and is still the president, he’s also secretly preparing a mass arrest of government officials and celebrities responsible for both the Cabal itself, as well as the obviously transparent election fraud that supposedly cost him his right to serve as our Dictator-in Chief.

This act of generosity offered to us all, despite his busy schedule of promoting the “Big Lie”, scamming the users of his failing media platform Truth Social, and holding ego-stroking rallies, that are seemingly necessary to his psychological well-being, as he can’t sustain an election anymore without the support of either Russia, or the Republicans they’ve purchased.

Begrudgingly though, I must give credit where credit is due. Whereas intellectuals manage to stay on topic, (as that’s where the facts are to be found) the disciples of Conspiritualism can, without so much as a moment’s notice, ricochet off reality, and find themselves on an unrelated tangent that’s just as equally insane, and sometimes, unintentionally adorable in its childlike acceptance of that which is nonsensical:

Not gonna lie here, this actually made me smile, for it reminds me of a far simpler time, when the stupidest things that I thought I’d ever have to deal with over a Home for the Holidays dinner, were theorem presented by my honorary Uncle Sal, who would openly ponder the possibility that the Loch Ness Monster still swimming around, was as real as a Yeti walking without care in the Himalayas, and that JFK and Marilyn Monroe were still alive, and living under assumed names in, [wait for it…\ Rhode Island.

However, the legendary classic that I still recall with great fondness, was his insistence that one day, the “truth” would “come out” about Ringo Starr being the Beatle that actually died prior to the release of “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band”, and not Paul, as the myth states, claiming all the evidence to prove his case, could be found after several sessions of listening to George Harrison’s third studio album, “All Things Must Pass”. Personally, I have no idea if any of this is true, but I will say this: ”What is Life” is still one of the best songs ever recorded, and rest assured, I will fight you over this.

Getting back on track, while I have no idea who this James Gilliland is, the range of topics that he apparently covers, is truly a marathon of mental meandering on par with my honorary Uncle Sal’s dissertation on just how JFK faked his own death with the help of Richard Nixon, and settled down with the one woman that truly brought him joy in the end. Admit it. Not only would this plot make one hell of a thriller, it would easily qualify as the best Rom-com ever made.

As a writer of some self-referential note, I’ve always taken care to construct narratives with a definable beginning, middle, and end, but this hodgepodge of hilarity, may be worthy of all the praise that I can throw it. Sure, it’s got the standard hits, that being the alleged moon landing, the Deep State, Aliens, and everybody’s favorite waking plush-y, Bigfoot, but the addition of Elves, inner Earth, and crop circles?

That, boys and girls, is pure freaking psychotic genius. Disturbingly, a very large part of me is now exceedingly curious as to what “other good info” was addressed in the show, but for whatever reason, was left on the cutting room floor of Kimberly’s meme factory. Believe me now, as for once I’m not being sarcastic, the very idea of elfin women who all look like Liv Tyler with her hair combed out just walking around, is very appealing to me, for a variety of reasons.

Sadly though, I have to leave this cotton-candy-brained intellectual whose disconnection from the world of the real is more amusing than venomous, and return to the sphere where it’s widely accepted that QAnon is akin to what would occur if Scientology specifically recruited hillbillies to join its cause.  

Why do I make this observation, you may ask?

Well, when you witness a widely diverse group of people openly admitting to believing in the existence of angels, the story of Noah’s Ark, alien abduction, chemtrails, mind-controlled sleeper agents lying in wait for their marching orders, cloned world leaders, lizard-human hybrids, and that there needs to be a remake of “Highlander” starring Steve Buscemi as Connor MacLeod, with Danny DeVito taking over the role of Juan Sanchez from the late Sean Connery, but place no faith in the value of science, medicine, or education, some negative associations are going to be made.

At the moment, we all live in an age where the repository of the world’s information entire, is literally at our fingertips, 24 hours a day, seven days a week, and yet, this may possibly be the dumbest generation of Americans this country has ever produced, outside of the one that truly thought.”50 Shades of Grey” was an accurate description of both romance, and the BDSM community as it currently exists.

To kick it off, we’ll start with a person who’s gone well out of her way, to make sure that not only will her social engagement calendar be wide open, but her Facebook friends list as well:Man, does this photo have it all. The declaration that being asked to take the merest of precautions to ensure that her fellow citizens don’t get sick, is nothing less than pure “tyranny”, as she puts forth the narrative claim that it was being forced upon us as a whole, which is, and remains, patently untrue. In essences, this woman is a perfect walking example of what happens when the baselessly entitled find themselves requested to think of other people for a change.

However, I will give props to this anti-vaxxers hand-lettering skills, because that poster board displaying her ignorance, is tighter than a group of Republicans defending the January Sixth insurrection. Never mind the fact the message it contains is coming from a person whose political party wants women to have no say over their own bodies, and also believes that rapists who impregnate said women, should not only be awarded full parental rights, but also that the women they sexually assaulted, be forced to carry the baby they did not ask for, to full-term delivery.

But my favorite part of this image, just so happens to be her sporting a “Jesus Loves You” shirt, which succinctly underscores her inherent hypocrisy, for as God commanded via Philippians 2:4; “Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others” which seemingly, she didn’t get the gist of. Remember when God had warrior he could brag about?

Yeah… I’m pretty sure God misses those days too.

It seems that the issue of the “Scamdemic” as the red-hatted Vanilla Vanguard likes to call it, has become not only a rallying point among the lowest ilk of the conservative movement, it also serves as a launchpad of sorts for their missiles of martyrdom, regarding everything from getting vaccinated, to (GASP!) the unconstitutional indignity of being asked to wear a mask for five minutes, as they waddle through a Walmart.

Comparisons made concerning these requests, from persons who, deep in their hearts, still believe that Claudius Ptolemy got it right, range from slurring doctors as everything from NAZI’s to murderers, as they openly bleat about others who choose to follow common sense protocols, as being no more than mindless “sheep”.

An opinion that they fomented, as I’m more than happy to point out, not from listening to actual scientists, but from a failed Reality Tv show host instead, who once not only declared that that windmill noise causes cancer, but informed the world entire in regards to a devastating storm ripping through Puerto Rico, that it was, and I quote;  “wet ‘from the standpoint of water’, concluding his remarks with the stunning revelation that Puerto Rico was also; “an island surrounded by water, big water, ocean water,”

This of course was a necessary distinction, so as not to confuse Puerto Rico with either the Virgin Islands, surrounded by co-eds from Brigham Young University, or Christmas Island, which as we all know, is encircled by egg nog. I may get some well-deserved flak for this, but I dare say that none of these people are going to be extended the graciousness of an invite to join MENSA, anytime soon.

But perhaps I spoke too soon, as there are a few knuckle-draggers among these anti-vaxxing troglodytes that appear far brighter than most of their contemporaries. Take for instance, this ever so credible advice suggested by part-tome armchair virologist, and full-time internet lawyer, “Wood George”:

Um… “Wood”? That’s not how that works. That’s not how anything works. In fact, for your supposition to make any sense, I in theory, would be able to sue Cadbury for their crème-filled eggs giving me Type 1 Diabetes, because mythical God knows, as a kid, I used to wolf those things down three at a time, and I never saw a warning label of any kind, telling me not to do so.  

I could also point out the mortality rate being so high can be directly traced back to an incompetent Oompa-Loompa not taking the virus seriously, going against the advice of his scientific advisors, firing the in-place pandemic team, and leaving behind no plan for nationwide vaccine distribution, but why tax your intellect with actual facts?

Shockingly, Facebook is a PRIVATE company, therefore, as their publicly accessible rules clearly state, they can regulate the type of content allowed on their platform, regardless of what information its users decide to post. That’s why you can’t upload nudity, promote acts of extreme violence, sell weapons, call for someone to be threatened or “doxed”, and the like. If this offends you, feel free to take your patronage over to Truth Social permanently, as you tell the founder of Facebook, to cordially go and Zuck himself.

However, since Trump’s rapidly failing cash-grab is still working out its scores of soft-launch Beta bugs, I can only wish you the best of luck, as you’re going to need it. Mostly to keep the app from crashing, or so I’ve heard.

And as for FB removing the “cure” from the sight of its users, exactly which one are you specifically talking about? Could it be Chloroquine Phosphate, which can lead to lethal heart complications? Or perhaps you’re referring to ingesting Quercetin, Zinc, or Vitamin D, instead? Nah, you strike me as the kind of guy that thinks that Ivermectin (a medicine that curtails parasites in animals) is the way to go, despite the number of people hospitalized after taking a formulation designed for horses, rather than humans.

Call me crazy, but if I’m gonna take a drug to cure or limit a disease, I’m going to choose the one that can’t be located at a tack store, or requires the intervention of an equine specialist in order to acquire its prescription.

Wood’s paranoia is quite the common denominator among the ignorant conscienti of the anti-vaxx cabal, but previous Artbitch honoree Ken Cykala here, kicks it up a notch, by suggesting a plot twist straight out of a John le Carré novel. That is, if John le Carré was channeling Alex Jones on a drunken bender:

I’m actually kind of proud of Cykala here for once, as his postings normally involve blatant racism, false crime statistics, and selectively skewed cherry-picking of verified data, so seeing him willfully donning a tin-foil suit to be just one of the guys, is quite the refreshing change, given his penchant for mental mediocrity.

Who knows? There might just be some hope for him yet… but only if he can find a way to keep the CIA from reading his so-called thoughts, if only so that he can more effectively deal with the black helicopters that track his movements. Take my advice here Ken, for I know what I speak of, no matter how much it may tell you that everything is cool between you, never ever trust your toaster. He’s an informant.

Sticking with delusional suggestions regarding COVID and its variants, here’s one from a while back, and when I say “back”, I’m referring to the year of 1963, because apparently, not only is ignorance timeless, it also seems to have acquired the use of a TARDIS as well:

You read that right, kids. A sci-fi film, released sometime during the Kennedy era, directed by Ugo Gregoretti, and starring the incomparable talents of Renato Salvatori, Rosemary Dexter, Franco Luzzi, and Gaetano Quartararo. has, and I quote; “obvious political and societal subtexts”, for no other reason than the random quirk that its moniker is identical to that of an infectious variant borne from a virus.

Despite the somewhat irrelevant detail that no one remembers this film, or has ever even heard of it in the first place, I remain thoroughly convinced that there just may be something to this theory, given all the similarities twixt the two,

To start, while the plot revolves around an invisible alien (not a virus) that takes over the body of a dead factory worker, in an attempt to conquer the earth, it’s almost akin to what COVID is currently doing, just without all that messy character development, cohesive narrative, and series of logically based conclusions that distinguishes it from the fantasy that plays 24/7 inside Leyba’s vacuously empty head.

Lastly, the name “Omicron”, which represents the 15’th letter in the Greek alphabet, was chosen by the World Health Organization, who began designating COVID’s variants with Greek letters as part of a failed public relations campaign, in order to avoid widespread confusion among simpletons like Leyba, who almost immediately, misinterpreted it as nothing less than a Deep State plot.

The presenting of somewhat labyrinthine intrigues, seems to be a recurring theme whereas Leyba’s POV is concerned, and it should really come as no surprise to anyone who reads the transcripts of his humanistic de-evolution in progress, that most of his conceptual formulation takes its cues from a mélange of media, far better suited for an individual whose walls are more likely to be covered over with post-it notes and link charts drawing unrelated parallels, rather than by well-stocked bookshelves.

In Leyba’s ever-increasingly fearful world, everything is connected, everything is subversive, and there’s no such thing as an improbable conspiracy, regardless of what certainty and sanity may suggest:

In the world that once was, prior to the conservative movement willingly turning into slack-jawed sociopaths that is, I would not to have point out that movies are not, as a rule, a flawless mirror of reflected reality. And if I were to take my societal prompts from such a motivational source, I can guarantee you beyond a shadow of any doubt, that a zombie film would never be my primary source for medical advice.

This opinion by the way, is largely dependent on the fact that unlike Leyba, I actually happen to be a fully functioning adult. Trust me. It’s as much of a curse in this day and age, as you might think.

After all, it’s one thing to falsely suggest that a vaccine is untested, poses an extreme risk, or believe that it’s being unlawfully forced upon the disinclined, but when your best argument against it is to reference the walking dead, you’ve failed far harder than those normally decimated by the parameters of Godwin’s Law.

But what are we as a society supposed to think, and more importantly do, with a swath of the populace who not only believes in illogical premises, such as the asinine Omicron fable Leyba presented, but truly ascribes faith to the narrative that the pandemic was a plan set in motion over twenty years ago?

Unfortunately for Leyba, his reposted meme purporting that it shows an image of a mural created in 1994 for the Denver International Airport, is in actuality, a cropped image of a painting by Philippine artist CJ Trinadad, titled “Maskcommunication.”, that has absolutely no connection whatsoever with the airport’s pubic art program,

Adding further insult to already injurious idiocy, in a March 2020 photo that was uploaded to social media by the artist himself, Trinidad is shown posing with said painting, in opposition to Leyba’s false assertion, thereby reaffirming my suspicion that I know exactly which kid in Leyba’s pre-school class was the one who sat in the corner and ate paste:

And just how long did it take me to discover the definable truth behind this cherry-picked story that Ricky Retardo here, most certainly overlooked accidentally on purpose ? Well, would you believe:

I tell you, the blood, sweat, tears, and milliseconds that these people make put into my literary work, is inhuman. Absolutely inhuman. I honestly don’t know where I get the stamina. Oh wait, I totally do, After all, laughter is the best medicine.

But Time, as the saying goes, waits for no man or Artbitch for that matter, so let’s move on to a prime example of just why proper phrasing is so important when you’re expressing your personal cray-cray online o those you wish to impress with your sage observations:

Is anyone else a tad bit confused here? Does a vaccine exist that independently, and of its own accord, seeks out communists to kill as if it were John Wick, or, does it only kill communists when given as a shot? I have so many questions regarding this, let me tell you, Nevertheless, I tend to think that either way, Walter would find either scenario pleasing, being the patriotic American he assumes himself to be, but his warning to the unnamed “they”, tells me different.

Like Cykala, Walter is also a past graduate of the Artbitch scratching post master class, and much as I said about Ken, I’m kind of glad to see him expand his horizons past his normal cesspool of anti-LGBTQ slurs, rants about socialism, and his paranoiac concern that one day in the near future, illegal aliens are going to kick him down his basement stairs, and lock him away with nothing but a rubber ball and a copy of True Grit on VHS, to keep him entertained.

Perceptibly, that last part is an obvious joke, as it’s fairly clear from Walter’s past statements as well as this one, that if he can’t figure out how to open a science book to understand how vaccines actually work, the odds are also pretty good that he doesn’t probably know how to use a VCR, either. In regards to his cryptic warning to the agents of “they”, all I will say is this: “I” would love to see “you” break out “your” camo and ammo to take on a heavily armed force that out-guns, out-thinks, and outnumbers you.

As far as the last stands of the desperately dense go, I’m sure that when Walter’s eventual failure based on nothing save unfounded delusion is recalled for future generations, and that, most likely through the art of interpretative dance, it will be treated with the same respect accorded to capitol rioter Ashli Babbit, when she unsuccessfully tried to deflect a cop’s bullet, using only her Chinese-made Trump hat.

The collective fantasy that conservatives have as being either heroic heralds of the Truth, or as protectors of the sacred realm are on one level, adorable, and on another, quite terrifying, given their consistent detachment from both reality, if not sanity. As I noted earlier, conservatives live in an “ever-increasingly fearful” world of their own making, where “everything is connected, everything is subversive, and there’s no such thing as an improbable conspiracy”.

In addition, it’s also a world that not uncoincidentally, is purposefully devoid of facts:

Oh look… it’s a laundry list of blanket statements, with absolutely no proof of concept to back it up. I didn’t see that coming at all, did you? Seriously. How could I ever manage to defeat or hope to counter such a devastatingly intellectual argument whose entire premise is seemingly based on the grade-school taunt of “I know you are, but what am I?” I humbly submit, that we use the one thing that conservatives fear more than Superman fears a Kryptonite condom, that being facts, based on quantifiable evidence.

Starting us off, let’s call attention to the fact that the woman represented within the meme, looks like a 40’s pin-up sex doll, which to be fair, is allegedly what most conservative men want in a life partner: pretty, vapid-looking, and with a mouth where things of all shapes and sizes are allowed to go in without question, minus the hassle of independent thoughts tumbling out.

While its banner states that, “Liberalism is all about Control!”, I’d like to remind all who read this, that this declaration comes direct the party that had zero issue with Trump saying; “I have an Article II, where I have to the right to do whatever I want as president”, which other than being patently untrue, is as close to embracing the abomination of fascist rule as this country has ever gotten. In relation to the rest of this deflection presented as austere political commentary, I’ll individually address the hypocrisy of its various talking points, as we go down the list.

“CONTROL YOUR HEALTHCARE”

This warning brought to you, by the very same people demanding that women carry the baby of their rapist, as they attempt to deny them their lawful right to direct their own body autonomy, but I digress.

“CONTROL WHAT YOU CAN SAY”

This chilling portent, courtesy of the political party that authored the “Don’t say Gay” bill in Florida, and is endeavoring to do the same in several other states, but please… tell us more.

“CONTROL WHAT YOU CAN LEARN”

The exclusion of Critical Race Theory, LGBTQ studies, non-Christian faiths, and African-American history by conservative school districts, ring a bell with anyone?

CONTROL WHAT YOU CAN READ”

This message of “Reading is Fundamental”, courtesy of the political party banning books from school libraries, that is, when they’re not using them as kindling for bonfires.

“CONTROL WHAT YOU CAN EAT”

Ok, I get it- Vegans are annoying as f**k, but it’s still the Republicans who think raising the arsenic levels in our water is an ok thing to get behind.

“CONTROL YOUR GUNS”

Um, you do know that’s already in the Constitution, right? Or did you forget the part where it says “well-regulated”? I swear, the ghost of Thomas Jefferson can’t even look at you right now, as you just ignored some of his best work.

“CONTROL YOUR NEWS”

What was it your mango-tinted Mussolini once tweeted? Oh, yes: “With all of the Fake News coming out of NBC and the Networks, at what point is it appropriate to challenge their License? Bad for country!”

I tell you, nobody waxes poetic petulance, any better than this poster child for the candy-assed does, and you can quote me on that. He clarified this tweet into an attempt at adulting sometime later, by reiterating that: “Network news has become so partisan, distorted and fake that licenses must be challenged and, if appropriate, revoked. Not fair to public!”

This of course, only applied to those networks who weren’t kissing his Depends-covered ass, but I’m sure their exclusion was just a coincidence, and not due to their groveling favoritism. Yup. The party so defensive of Free Speech, that they turned a blind eye when their president said, and I quote; “It is frankly disgusting the press is able to write whatever it wants to write”, are certainly the most qualified demographic, whereas making sure that the American people have unencumbered access to the Truth is concerned.

Altruistically, they’ve gone the extra mile for their fellow citizens, by starting up truly unbiased networks, just so we can hear the latest not cherry-picked at all news about how everyone we know, and will ever meet, are nothing less than Satan-worshiping pedophiles, who stole the election right out of Donald Trump’s freakishly small hands. Once again, I’m obviously kidding, as Satan would never hang out with pedophiles, much less conservatives, but then again, I repeat myself.

The concept of the endless battle between Satan and his former employer God, has long served as weaponized propaganda for conservatives, as they’ve tried *and failed) to establish themselves as the sole arbitrators of all that is moral despite their inherent hypocrisy, but now, they’ve taken their high horse on the road, and applied their penchant for spiritual disingenuousness, to of all things, the issue of public health:

Yes, you did read that right. Science, which brought us not only space travel, the promise of solar energy, global communication, pest-resistant crops, the Internet, indoor plumbing, electrical infrastructure, and most importantly, chocolate-covered Twinkies, is now considered “Demonic” by persons who openly believe in Angels and Ghosts, but not the practical benefits of Virology.

Now, I could easily point out to Cykala the evidence contained within the Bible, specifically Matthew 9:12 (KJV), which says; “But when Jesus heard that, he said unto them, They that be whole need not a physician, but they that are sick”, as evidence that God was pretty cool with the world of medicine and its practitioners,, but why do that, when it’s clearly apparent that he’s never cracked open the copy he claims to be inspired by, and wouldn’t understand if he did?

Amusingly, Cykala seemingly has no comprehension of optics when it comes to certain posts of his, a fact that I’ve made light of in earlier screeds that detail some of his more asinine takes in regards to politics, social issues, and American culture, but this one still qualifies far and beyond, as one of my all-time favorites:  

For those of you who may be fans of the “Harry Potter” movie franchise, the term “pureblood is familiar, as it refers to an individual or family whose lineage contains non-magical blood.

Although the term ‘pureblood” does not appear in any of the books, being substituted with the less complementary designation of “Muggle” instead. However, it is prevalent within the films themselves, but I’m sure that’s not what Ken was actually referring to, as a series of books that presents diversity and tolerance, doesn’t strike me as his bag, given his past history of online bigotry,

No, the true inference here for Ken and others of hs ilk within the moronic mass that is the anti-vaxx movement, likens being inoculated to an act of bioterrorism, wherein their previously “pure” blood is tainted beyond all restorative redemption. In that sense, it’s just like their so-called souls, except in this case, the degradation only applies to their intellect.

Regardless, the act of claiming that one possesses the purest of blood, is nothing new, nor is it that far removed from the current day, either. In fact, if we look back just a mere eight decades ago, there was another large political party, akin to today’s conservative movement, that shared many of the same values: national pride, slavish faith in an authoritarian demagogue, hypocritical self-righteousness, and obsessively fearful regarding cultures and persons that they felt were inferior to them.

And all of this, was personified in the carefully crafted visage of a strong, charismatically dynamic leader, who led his country to the heights of glory, before eventually dropping it into a hellish pit, ironically filled with the pureblood of his people. Now, I know you think I’m going to draw a parallel here between Trump and whoever this guy was, but I’m not, as it would be patently unfair.

One of them by all accounts, was a steadfast former soldier wounded in battle, who then went on to lift his country out of the ashes of a humiliating defeat, only to start the cycle anew, after (thankfully) failing in his sociopathic attempt to eradicate the Jewish people off the face of the earth. And the other, is a draft-dodging craven adulterer, who wishes he had been half as authoritarian as his fascist counterpart once was.

GOP strategist Steve Schmidt, once noted that; Trump’s “only affinity for reading anything were the Adolf Hitler speeches he kept on his nightstand”, and whether the GQP wants to admit or not, at this point, if their base started walking around modeling the uniform of the Einsatzgruppen, nobody would bat an eye, and Tucker Carlson would most likely, compliment them for their bold sense of fashion.

Think I’m being a tad bit hyperbolic? Well, let’s take a gander at this heroic portrayal of Donald Trump wherein right off the bat, it sets the tone that not only is this is a man of determined action and noble integrity, he’s truly representational of our American values, as well:What poise. What class, What strength of character. What a steaming pile of propaganda f**kery this is, and I meant that with respect. Other than possessing a physique that even the finest plastic surgeons in the world couldn’t hope to sculpt, the rolling-up of his sleeves suggesting that he’s more tha willing to get his hands dirty as he does the work required to make us “Great” again, is literally the best part of this unintentional punchline presented as partisan theatre.

Seriously. Does anyone outside of his mewling MAGAts mob, truly have confidence in his capacity for efficaciously undertaking manual labor?  Keep in mind, this is a man who had no less than 20+ fireplaces that he could have accessed to dispose of those documents that he didn’t want brought to light, but as an alternative, he formulated the command decision that ripping them up, and flushing them down the toilet instead, was the way to go.

When Trump’s wet dream is compared to this vintage political poster, centering on the strongman whose speechifying Trump allegedly admires so much, you’ll note that he in a very similar fashion, also knows how to use the symbolism of a flag as a rallying point, which is why Trump decided to try and cosplay him for real:

Man, the role models these people choose to emulate and philosophically align themselves with, huh? It’s almost enough to give one a moment of serious pause in regards to the contemplation of the celestial creators alleged master plan. Speaking of mythical gods, does anybody else find it strange, that despite supposedly having Jesus on their side, conservatives have an almost pathological need to amplify their straw strongmen as the ultimate last word in Ubermensch?

This paradox aside, I’d like to point out that while it’s relatively easy to equate the bad guys from “Raiders of the Lost Ark”, to today’s GQP, there are some key differences to be sure, as you’d expect. The ungodly atrocities of the NAZI regime in relation to its doctors performing abominable medical experiments upon the unwilling, the infirm, and the imprisoned, directly led to the formulation of the Nuremberg Code in August of 1947, as a consequential warning that hopefully, will never require enaction.

Despite their prominence, conservatives somehow missed its intent during the high school History class discussion they slept through, and are now (ironically) mutilating the Code into what it was never intended to be, in order to rationalize their demonization of modern-day vaccines.

And as you’ve come to expect, there’s a meme (or two) for that:

Boy, sucks to be this person. But the question of why this post was labeled false must be asked, if only to settle my own curiosity, and fortunately, Facebook does tell us why this assertion found itself tagged:

As a public service for those of you unfamiliar with the intended purpose of the Code in relation to the practice of sound medical ethics, it dictates ten key factors in regards to medical experimentation involving human test subjects, and they are as follows:

(1) The voluntary consent of the subject is unconditionally essential.

(2) The end goal of the experiment should be undertaken for the good of society, and only if the desired benefit is unprocurable by other methods, and its implementation must not be random, or unnecessary in nature.

(3) The experiment should be based on the results of prior animal experimentation and knowledge of the issue under study, so that the projected outcome will justify the necessity of said experiment.(4) The experiment should be composed in a manner designed to avoid all unnecessary injuries, be they physical or psychological.

(5) No experiment should be conducted where there is an expectation that be death or disabling injury will transpire, save for those experiments where the physicians involved willingly serve as subjects themselves.

(6) The degree of risk to be taken should never exceed that determined by the humanitarian importance of the problem to be solved by the experiment.

 (7) Proper preparations should be made and adequate facilities provided, to shield the investigational subject against even remote possibilities of injury, disability, or death.

(8) The experiment should be conducted only by scientifically qualified persons, imparting a high degree of both aptitude and care. throughout all stages of the experiment.

(9) Regardless of the stage of said experiment, the subject retains the right to end their participation if they have reached their physical or mental limit.

(10) It is imperative that if at any point, the scientist in charge comes to believe that continuing with the experiment may imminently result in the injury or death of the test subject, they must in good faith, be prepared to terminate the experiment.

Seems pretty cut and dried, does it not?

And no matter how you wish to interpret these standards, nowhere within, does any of it apply to vaccines, or the act of vaccination, both of which require VOLUNTARY participation. Despite the fear-mongering bonfires being currently stoked by the GQP, no one in America at least, is being forced against their will to be vaccinated. If your job demands that you get vaccinated for the collective safety of your co-workers or clients or face dismissal, you can still quit, and walk away.

That’s not “being forced”, that’s just Capitalism in action. If my memory serves me correctly, conservatives have a saying that they’re quite fond of condescending tossing out whenever they hear an overworked and underappreciated employee, complaining about wanting either a living wage or improved workplace conditions; “You can always get another job”. In retrospect, that’s a valid point, So maybe, just maybe, they should follow their own unsolicited advice for once, get that new job, and then just shut the f**k up, so the rest of us can have a blissful moment of peace and whining-free quiet.

That’s a nice thought, isn’t it? To go one full day, heck, one full hour, without hearing the ill-informed babbling of some YouTube Constitutional scholar condescendingly telling us all about what the clearly defined statutes intended to say, versus what they actually do? Case in point, this declaration warning Police, Schools, or “any” Governmental / Health entity that coerced or forced vaccinations violate the Code, and therefore, are liable to being prosecuted as “War Crimes”:

This is both hilariously wrong, and metaphorically correct. While forcing someone against their will to undergo a medical regimen is indeed, a violation of their Human Rights, no one in America has been subjected to any such action in regards to vaccinations, and never will be. In addition, in order for anyone to be prosecuted for violations of the Code, regardless of whether t’s an individual or a collective, there must be an actual war occurring at the time that the violations took place.

For clarity’s sake, let me just call attention to the reality that just because Conservatives regard everything they don’t understand or appreciate as a war of some sort, it still doesn’t make it so. Vaccinations are voluntary, and being dismissed from a job because you’re scientifically ignorant and/or selfish, doesn’t violate the Code on any level, save for the one that is implied in regards to your interactions with Humanity.

To wit; Police enforce the laws, and have qualified immunity for doing so. in most states. Schools do not vaccinate as part of their chartered duties either, but considering how conservatives regard teachers as everything from pedophiles to radical Leftists intent on radicalizing their children by teaching them science and cultural respect, it’s not that hard to see how that f**ked up idea found itself a comfortable home inside that vacuous void between their ears.

And when it comes to governmental or public health-related agencies, I for one, have never been witness to agents of either, snatching people off of the street and sticking a needle in their arms, but maybe that’s just the nanobots that the CIA slipped into my Apple Jacks this morning, talking.

An interesting question does arise though from reading May’s declarative threat, and it is this: when at the urging of then-President Donald Trump, heavily armed federal law enforcement officers dressed in military-style camouflage, forced protestors in Portland into unmarked vans, without first either identifying themselves or explaining why these persons were being detained, did she ever post anything about that?

Of course not, because if there’s one thing that conservatives truly love, it’s hypocrisy, so long as it’s not their own being called out, that is. So, until such time I hear of a vaccination-related grab and stab, May is more than cordially invited to go and finish that tin-foil-based fashion line she’s been working on since late 2016.

Most certainly, there is more than enough going on in the world today for a perpetual sense of fear to be justified, but it always seems that Conservatives pick the wrong things to be obsessively trepidant over as consistently as I choose the perfect loaf of French bread at Albertsons. Don’t laugh. My bread selection game is strong.

This state of mind that Conservatives wallow in 24/7, is nothing new, and the inclusion of vaccines as a threat to all they cherish, is no more than the latest bogeyman they’ve recently fallen in lust with. As a person who’s spent most of his adult life watching the GQP vacillate between playing both aggressive victimizer and undeserved victim, none of this vindictive vitriol shocks me any longer

But it is a refreshing change of pace, to see them adding new nemeses.to a classic gambit, wherein they deal from the bottom of the deck, shifting responsibility for the carnage they cause due to their ignorant selfishness, onto those others who are doing everything they can, to save these jackasses from no less than themselves. But that’s their special skillset- when in doubt, just subcontract the blame out:

Yup. If there’s any better person to talk about the injustice of “Vaxed Privilege“, (whatever the f**k that is) adversely affecting the GQP’s base of mayonnaise messiahs, it’s most definitely our resident Captain of the Vanilla Vanguard and perpetual poster boy for White Aryan Privilege, Mr. Ken Cykala.

Oddly, while Cykala has expressed grave concerns in the past about the damage African-Americans do when they’re allowed to think that they have the same constitutional rights as him, he sees no issue whatsoever with freely allowing possibly infected people to risk making his fellow Americans sick, if it gets in the way of acquiring their daily dose of curly fries at Chick-fil-A.

Well, not all Americans of course. Just the ones who are slightly darker than him, and who aren’t regulars at one of his lit-by-torches book club meetings that for some reason, are usually held on a stranger’s front lawn at three o’clock in the morning.

I’m kidding, I’m kidding. None of us, even for a second, would ever seriously believe that this bloviating bigot can actually read, much less be entrusted to oversee an open flame, regardless of whether it’s a cookout, or a “get out of our neighborhood” soiree.

All jokes based on credible evidence provided by Cykala himself aside, let’s remember who Cykala really is in my opinion, shall we? A pathetically paranoid shell of a human being, who, with no due respect, sees false-flag operations everywhere he looks, and treats the truth of things very much in the same way that Tommy Wiseau treats film-making, as this delusional posting of his easily proves:

Absurd, isn’t it, how Cykala truly believes, that the very same Government who can’t win the “War” on education, poverty, drugs, and if you trust FOX news, Christmas- somehow would be able to pull this fascist action off without so much as a hiccup?

 But then again, since he also puts full stock in the fictions that the 2020 election was “stolen”, that the pandemic was a scam ,and that African-Americans murder Whites at a rate of, [and I swear to God he once posted this] 81%, maybe I should cut him some slack for his stereotypical display of dumbf**kery..

I know I’ve made a lot of jokes regarding the depth of Cykala’s density in the past, but as time goes on, I’m starting to become more confident in my belief that if it ever were requested of him to undergo a blood test, he’d probably ask for the time off to study for it. Fortunately for Cykala though, he won’t be alone in regards to his continuing effort to willingly humiliate himself online, as travel buddies seemingly abound within the asylum that is the Conservative universe:

We’ve all heard the phrase that “Misery loves company, but I always assumed it was referring to the social status of the clinically depressed, rather than the intellect of the wretchedly paranoid. After all, it’s one thing to label a company “woke”, due to the fact that it seems to care not only about the planet, but the people living on it as well, but to apply that same cynicism to a non-sentient convenience of modern society, is quite literally, nothing short of insane.

Granted, while this is a classic example of Conservative distrust thinly masquerading as political commentary, it is most definitely on brand for someone who deep down, considers this dystopian outcome a definitive certainty in the near future. For the record, private companies such as Facebook, Twitter, TikTok, and YouTube are not subject to the First Amendment, and never have been, nor will they ever be.

So, f**k your feelings, and get over it, you candy-assed pu**ies.

As you might expect the conservative movement tends to ignore this fact, yet still carries their false cause banner as if it didn’t exist. In their incredibly insular world, all roads lead to cabals, all persons are suspect, and nothing, including formerly loyal household appliances, can be trusted with any degree of certitude:

At first glance, the one thing that jumped out at me, other than the sheer absurdity of this metaphorical scenario that is, was the assertion that the supposed anti-gay slur isn’t the problem, it’s the apparently woke fridge’s logical reaction to it. I can’t believe that I even have to say this, but if an otherwise inanimate ice-box thinks you’re homophobic to the point where it reveals its societal sensitivity, odds are pretty good that you are indeed, on some level, a truly terrible person.

Obviously, I’m well aware that this posting was intended to be interpreted as nothing more than a joke, lame as it is, as no rational person would ever place any stock in it. However, as we’ve seen throughout this screed, the applicational use of rational thought to a conservative, is akin to the self-control I wouldn’t show if I ever found myself locked inside the factory that produces Ding Dongs and Sno-balls.

I once openly asked the allegorical question of just where these morons came from, hoping that some external force could be blamed for their collective devotion to the lowest depths of abominable ignorance and inhumanity, but unfortunately, I eventually had to make peace with the terrifying fact that the call was coming from inside the metaphorical house, and any hope of being rescued by the babysitter, was gone.

in the movies, the evil within usually finds itself vanquished by the utilization of fire, bullets, magical incantations, holy water, or the intervention of my personal favorite, lazy-ass writing, but eventually Good prevails. Well, until the inevitable sequels arrive, keeping in mind that the “Friday the 13th” franchise has made 13 follow-ups to the original story of a mask-wielding psycho hacking up camp counselors as if he were a chef at Benihana’s, and in a plot twist no one could have predicted, one of them takes place in outer space.  

And no, I’m not making that up.

Freaking. Outer. Space. And what is the story about?  Well…it centers on our favorite summer camp malcontent Jason, who after having been cryogenically frozen for 445 years, is discovered by a group of students who (naturally) take him into space, where he thaws out, and immediately picks up the threads of his former career, by stalking and killing the crew of the spaceship that were nice enough to offer him a trip that currently, would bankrupt you and I.

Did I mention by the way, that all of this takes place in the year 2455, and as a story, it’s still a far more cohesively plausible than half the stuff that these failed lobotomy candidates can come up with? Welcome to modern-day America my friends, and experience its new normal, where fantastical delusion gets accorded the airtime equality of concrete reality.

And we have no one to blame for this current miasma of mental acuity, but ourselves. Why, you ask? Because of some collectively held and wholly misguided principle that every voice needs to be heard.

Let me clarify that statement, if I may. While everyone has the right to say whatever they want, that doesn’t give them the licensed authority to knowingly inflict pain upon the innocent, as conservatives are apt to do. Just as how actions have consequences when they cross an ethical line, the essence of Free Speech does as well, a factor of risk that as a writer, I challenge almost every time I write a new piece.

Irrespective of whomever was standing on the allegorical soapbox, be it friend or foe, I would be the first one to step up and defend their right to use it, but that doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t also be the first one in line to savagely mock=k whatever it is they’re saying, either. That’s the price of truly Free Speech, and it applies to everyone, regardless of their financial status or social influence.

If anyone I’ve ever mentioned within these literary diversions of mine ever decides to read what I’ve assessed about them, currently or in the future, the odds are fairly slim that anything that I’ve said will cause them to have a moment of self-reflection, and that’s fine. In fact, its been my experience that it only galvanizes them to become even more extreme, if anything, and that’s ok too, as they’re not the ones I’m trying to reach with my pixilated presentations.

No, the ones I’m trying to enlighten in my own snarktastic way, are the ones straddling the fence, who are contemplating what side to pick. As with most things, there’s pros and cons to both, but speaking for myself, I prefer to be on the side that at it’s worst, receives the descriptive of “means well” when their actions are enunciated to others outside of the tribe.

Let us not forget for one second, whether it be borne of convenience or charity, that these people are PROUD to be hateful, ignorant, slavish disciples of a political movement that considers kindness a weakness, and diversity, a credible threat. Keep in mind, none of the postings that I share come from fake profile mining, nor any other form of subterfuge- these individuals wear their hate with pride, mask their fear with anger, and claim that their beliefs of what should be Trump [pun intended] what is.

Nearly eighteen years ago, I started writing my screeds on a social media platform known as MySpace, and at last count, the archive of what I’ve written thus far, wherein I’ve covered topics ranging from Art to Pop Culture, to Politics, has resulted in 160 stand-alone pieces, totaling in a word count that back in 2017, was the equivalent of my having written five full length novels. Damn, I really am a chatterbox.

However, I don’t do this for money. I don’t do it for the infamy that inevitably comes with each new take on life as I see it, although that part is fun at times, I do it because I can, and I do it because I must. And between you and me, I’m just getting warmed up.

Time to end this discussion for now, I think. But before I go, I’d like to give you a taste of what will be coming up next, as I continue my spelunking in the caverns of the conservative cravens who cry foul every time they’re held to account:For the life of me, I cannot fathom just exactly we think these people are a gaggle of inbred, racist, Islamophobic, uneducated dipsticks, can you? A mystery for the ages, I guess, one which I will do my best to try and solve, come the next magnum opus. Until then, I leave you with this piece of writing advice that I try to follow as religiously as possible, courtesy of the late and great, Kurt Vonnegut, who advised;

“Give your readers as much information as possible as soon as possible. To heck with suspense. Readers should have such complete understanding of what is going on, where and why, that they could finish the story themselves, should cockroaches eat the last few pages.”

In closing, I do hope that I’ve made you and the cockroaches happy.

“The main thing that I learned about conspiracy theory, is that conspiracy theorists believe in a conspiracy because that is more comforting. The truth of the world is that it is actually chaotic. The truth is that it is not The Illuminati, or The Jewish Banking Conspiracy, or the Gray Alien Theory. The truth is far more frightening – Nobody is in control. The world is rudderless.” -Alan Moore

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


The Kook of Ruth Pt.3 (Sugar & Slice)

“Oh Lestat, you deserved everything that’s ever happened to you. You better not die. You might actually go to hell.” – Anne Rice, The Vampire Lestat

Salutations, Bitchiteers!

How in the H-E-double hockey sticks, are you?  I for one, am middling along, doing what I do, and enjoying almost every minute of it, whenever it’s possible to do so. In other words, a fairly typical afternoon interlude for yours truly, despite my suffering as of late, some unwarranted, if not unwanted, personal stressors.

First up on the giant hot-plate of harried tranquility, is the lamentable passing of my GF’s father, “Bud”, at 93 years of age, and in tandem, all of the minutiae that comes with such tragedy, such as the overseeing of estate dispensation, the planning of a memorial, as well as tackling the multiple legalities involved when one departs the mortal coil., While we’re obviously engaged in the opening act of such, it’s proving to be quite challenging on many separate levels, as only one who has been through the process, can imagine.

In time, all will be settled, but at the present moment, I’d analogize the ever-developing situation at hand as a razor-studded puppy, that just wants you to tightly hug it, as it jumps in your lap, and shreds your face with its spike-laden tongue. Until someone close to you dies, you’ll never know just how complicated the concept of one’s after-death can turn out to be. And as is the stereotypical pattern involving both grief and reticent responsibilities, the way forward is never as clear as one wants it to be.

The next snag in my attempt to finally develop a sense of truly internal and serene Zen, is the fact that it appears my supposedly a few years down the road metaphorical surgical procedure for cataracts, has decided not only to book its room early, and in doing so, thought that bussing in all its sorority brothers from college, to liven the party up, was a good idea too. Unfortunately, after several injections into my left eye to forcibly evict an unwanted buildup of excess fluid, the time has come for the next step, that being the wonderful world of outpatient surgery.,

At this time, I’m not entirely sure when this is going to take place, but hopefully it’ll be sooner than later, and if all goes well, it might hopefully improve (somewhat) the ongoing issues related to the degradation of my vision. An additional upside is the fact that the injections do seem to have had an effect for the better, but I’m still anxious nonetheless, as I find myself contemplating what could happen, if all does not go according to the less than divine plan.

Let me be honest here for a brief moment, if I may- even if I managed to pull off one of the best Helen Keller cosplays ever, I still can’t pull off the sunglasses at night look that Stevie Wonder nailed so successfully decades ago, either. And as for that whole having to rely on using a white cane thing to get around?  I refuse to own, or even openly utilize, any accessory that clashes so horribly with my summer wardrobe, so there is that to consider, regardless of what anyone may say.At a second glance however, no pun intended, maybe I’m being somewhat overly harsh here, as with the right marketing, I’m fairly confident that I could probably rock this look, provided that my suit is tailored and that my main squeeze is a Latina pop-star. The downside however, as it was made clear to me repeatedly, if not directly, that said procedure would not, and I quote; “Give you or anyone else for that matter, x-ray, laser, or the radar vision possessed by Daredevil”, which I feel quite honestly, is sort of a supreme letdown, given my particular circumstances.

My wish for much-desired superpowers aside, I’m hopefully anxious as to what the eventual outcomes of the dual procedures will be, but as the saying goes; “Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow, it empties today of its strength”, so as is my way, I’m dealing with it tin the only way I know how, by making jokes and attempting to pretend I’m not concerned at all. So far, it’s working like a charm, because when it comes to drafting convoluted delusions of specifically personal grandeur, I may as well be Zaha Hadid.

Google her. Her work is fantastic, and unlike Frank Lloyd Wright’s, it’s designed around the concept of actual people using it. Yeah, I said it. His work is far more pretty than functional, and I say this as someone who once spent three days shooting a series of parties for the exceedingly pretentious Taliesin West alumni. Their collective work may be derivative as f**k, but at least their check cleared without issue, and that’s al  that mattered in the end.

Speaking of pretentiousness, today’s screed is a continuance of the saga regarding a self-righteous cafeteria Christian, who, despite her penchant of self-generating tall tales that nobody wants to either hear or believe, fancies herself as an ever-victorious Daughter of God, while simultaneously dealing the victim of cruel fate card from the bottom of the proverbial martyr deck, as if she were Lando Calrissian in a particularly contentious game of Sabacc.

Granted, while Seawolf’s ability to go full Moebius strip with what actual truth is quite impressive, I feel that yet again, I must give credit to for her ability to distill the purest of drama from the essence of literally nothing, and, while I do truly appreciate the riches for mockery that she provides so willingly if not obsessively, it also doesn’t mean that I’m going to give her a pass in regards to it, either.

Think of it as the ultimate win-win for the both of us- I get to have some fun at her expense, she gets to witness her absurdly insane takes get disseminated to the curious at large, and in the end, everyone save her of course, gets the sense of comfort that comes with knowing deep down, that regardless of whatever measure of personal stupidity that they may possess, it, at the very least, cannot even begin to best hers.

To add this judgement to the Jenga tower that I’ve assembled so far, I’ll present yet another public declaration from the kook that is Ruth, and in doing so, reiterate once more what happens when you believe in angels and talking snakes, yet truly think that established science was deliberately crafted by a disgruntled ex-employee of the world’s largest Ponzi scheme, in order to lead you astray:I say to you now, and this with all supreme confidence, that if the properties of magnetism could be applied to Seawolf’s inherent sense of witlessness, the end result would be her finding herself being unable to walk past the open doors of a Home Depot without looking as if she were modeling for its nut and bolt aisle, but I digress.

However, I will also admit, that I may be a tad bit jealous here, in regards to this unintentional superpower of hers. Imagine being able to walk around with this much self-righteous stupid just oozing out of your pores. and yet somehow, still manage to not accidentally kill yourself while making toast. And on a daily basis, no less. It’s been said that mythical God protects drunks and children, but I never knew that umbrella of defense extended to those with the Faith of a child, and the intellect of a perpetually-soused career alcoholic.

I seriously love the arrogance displayed here, as it’s the essence of who Ruth is, and of the idiocy she serves as an inadvertent spokesperson for, For the better part of the last two years, Seawolf has openly expressed anti-masking, anti-vaxx, anti-public mandate views, despite allegedly becoming ill with the disease itself, but she also feels that those who’ve turned their back on preventative measures shouldn’t be held to any degree of social contempt if they wind up getting sick, due to their own abject density?

In regards to this asinine take of hers, all I can say is this:

Whenever I see one of these unaccredited “Reposted from” pieces of propagandist nut-fodder being respectfully disseminated as if it were from a sage up on high, I already know that I’m about to enter a world of alternative facts at best, and a dystopian view of reality, at worst. And regardless of which situational aspect that you find yourself waking among, Seawolf’s hypocrisy will most certainly be the binding agent twixt the two.

After all, as a self-professed Christian, Ruth may bear reasonably valid offense at what I can only assume is what she sees as a repudiation of Proverbs 3:2, that being noted as: “Don’t withhold good from someone who deserves it, when it is in your power to do so.”, but if this is true, shouldn’t she also be equally applying her God’s edict expressed in Philippians 2:4, which clearly demands that; “Instead of each person watching out for their own good, watch out for what is better for others.”, as well?

I only say this of course, because as a supposedly ardent disciple of Jesus, she should have been doing so without question for quite some time now, but when you’re a reputed cafeteria Christian as Seawolf appears to be, follow-through, most likely, isn’t going to be your strong suit.

But as noted oft-time before, the one area where Seawolf truly shines, is in how she places the blame for other people’s ignorant decisions, squarely on the shoulders of those who suffer the most for their being made, that being the dedicated medical professionals who have been forced to watch the cascade of easily preventable deaths, that have been laid out before them over the last two years. If you didn’t trust the science then, I see no reason as to why you should be allowed to demand the advantage of it now, if I may be so brusque.

As for her “examples” unrelated to the issue at hand regarding the bad personal decisions of strangers, and that she feels shouldn’t exclude others from the commonality of the social circle, let’s recall this tidbit that I referenced two blogs back, wherein Ruth displays her Christian concern for those afflicted by the curse of addiction.For the record, nobody (save for the voices in Ruth’s head, that is) was referring to [correct spelling] “murderers”, drug addicts, or thugs who threatened pregnant women as “heroes”, but such minutiae is irrelevant, when it’s already been made obvious that if Seawolf were in charge of dispensing medical preference for treatment, she’d drop said dregs of society, faster than she would drop acting on the advice she so churlishly metes out to others.

And speaking as a 20+ year victim of diabetes, I take slight personal offense at the implication expressed by this woman who looks as if she was formed out of raw cookie dough and bargain hair spray, suggesting that Diabetes is caused by dietary regimen alone, as the exact cause remains unknown. What is acknowledged however is that your immune system, starts attacking and eventually destroys, insulin-producing cells in the pancreas. So, for her to present such ignorance yet again as factual within the context of a so-called talking point, rubs me the wrong way, somewhat.

Adding further insult to injury, Seawolf then goes on to question the adherence to the oath medical practitioners set as their ethical cornerstone, in deference to lauding undeserved sympathy upon those who unarguably, have purposefully abused its noble charter since the onslaught of the pandemic arrived, in order to play both ends against the middle.

Keep in mind that according to her own postings, Seawolf herself, as well as her immediate family, may have allegedly suffered from a rather severe bout with COVID, and despite this, still demands that we as a society, along with its overworked caregivers, just allow these idiots willfully spreading both this plague and the disinformation regarding it, the benefits of charitable grace?

Well, when it comes right down to the act of doing so, all I can say is…

I appreciate more than you can imagine, the absurdly uninformed manner in which Seawolf also takes unwarranted umbrage to those shunning common sense protocols being correctly deemed as ignorant, yet somehow misses the non-subtle hypocrisy of the very same, beseeching those that they’ve slandered for months as the true enemies of personal freedom, to arrive in the nick of time as much desired saviors.

Seawolf’s duplicity regarding her personal act of Orwellian doublethink though, shouldn’t really come as a shock though, since after all, she’s also the same spiritual simpleton who after close to two years of praying to her man-made Sky-daddy to protect both her and the ones she claims to love, from the ravages of COVID, slavishly thanked “Him” for releasing her from its torment,, after his display of stunn9ng incompetence wherein he failed to keep her free from it.

Nope… nothing mentally unsound to unpack there, my readers. Nothing at all.

But as has been established within the last few pieces I’ve written about her, Seawolf is at least consistent in her disingenuous inanity, regardless of what the topic being discussed at the time is, and mythical God, I do so love her for it.

In the past, Seawolf has stated that the abominable events that occurred in our nation’s Capitol on January Sixth, were indeed, not the fault of her fellow Trumptards, but were instead, the end result of insidious machinations by outside agitators, despite not possessing one shred of credible evidence to support this widely debunked claim, as has always been the case whereas the majority of her stereotypically insane beliefs are concerned.

But don’t let me sway you with my silver-fingered typing, just peruse this posting of hers and determine if I’m correct in regards to my acidic assessment for yourself:

I have no definitive proof of this, but somewhere out there, residing within the anaerobic lagoon that is the World Wide Web, sits the craftsperson in charge of constructing unhinged conspiracy theories for morons such as Ruth, and who most certainly, wakes up every day thanking Fate for not only her unshakeable faith in the bulls**t that they create, but also the manner in which she fellates Trump’s boots, that being, with the enthusiasm of a Catholic priest who’s been left unsupervised at a Boy Scout Jamboree.

And no, I won’t apologize for making that comparison, for when a supposed grown-ass woman, who could be easily assisted in her quest for knowledge by the use of unfettered access to proven data,  but instead, decides to eschew all of that to disseminate the illogical lunacy of a personality cult, I see no need to pull my metaphorical punches, now, or in the eventually to be experienced future.

I can handle the small variances inherent within the boundary of legitimate opinion, for variety is the spice of life, but that maxim depends on the variable that the allegorical spice in question, is akin to Basil, not Bats**t. Thus far, Seawolf has posted a diversity of mentally challenged and evidence free assertions, ranging from the lies regarding non-existent election fraud, to my personal favorite, the spiritually blind naivete that “God” is in charge of everything, and doing one heck of a job running the known universe, despite all indications to the contrary.

The vapidly ridiculous concept of an ever-present God being in control, was vehemently dissected by the British actor and comedian Stephen Fry, who during a 2016 appearance on an Irish Tv show hosted by Gay Bryne, responded with the following when asked by Byrne what he might say to God, if he found himself before the gates of heaven:     

SF: “I will basically (it’s known as theodicy, I think) I’ll say, “Bone cancer in children? What’s that about? How dare you! How dare you create a world where there is such misery that is not our fault! It’s not right. It is utterly, utterly evil. Why should I respect a capricious, mean-minded, stupid god who creates a world that is so full of injustice and pain? That’s what I’d say. “

Byrne: “And you think you’re going to get in?”

SF: “Oh, but I wouldn’t want to. I wouldn’t want to get in on his terms. They’re wrong. Now, if I died and it was Pluto, Hades and if it were the twelve Greek gods, then I’d have more truck with it because the Greeks didn’t pretend not to be human in their appetites, and in their capriciousness and their unreasonableness; they didn’t present themselves as being all-seeing, all-wise, all-kind, all-munificent; because the god who created this universe (if it was created by God) is, quite clearly, a maniac – utter maniac, totally selfish.

We have to spend our life on our knees thanking him? What kind of god would do that? Yes, the world is very splendid, but it also has in it insects whose whole life-cycle is to burrow into the eyes of children and make them blind. They eat outwards from the eyes. Why did you do that? Why? Why did you do that to us? You could easily have made a creation where that didn’t exist. It is simply not acceptable.

So, you know, atheism is not just about not believing there’s a god – but, on the assumption there is one, what kind of god is it? It’s perfectly apparent that he is monstrous, utterly monstrous, and deserves no respect whatsoever. The moment you banish him your life becomes simpler, purer, cleaner – more worth living in my opinion.”

Man… that is a brutal take-down, and it presents as even worse, when you remember that other than being perfectly expressed, it was delivered via an upper-class British accent, to boot. If I was God, I’d want to kill myself after having been subjected to that, but since I’d just rise from the dead three days later, the only positive thing that I’d get out of engaging in such a pointless endeavor, would be some personal downtime at best. 

As my two-time collaborator Arizona-based filmmaker Douglas Proce, once said to me; “Gods are experts at wiping out entire civilizations as part of “their plan.” No one can articulate what that plan is, other than “God” has one. Of course, “God” moves in “mysterious” ways, and – wouldn’t you know it – it’s a SIN to even question “The Plan.” Just obey, and let the “Prophets” tell you how to think. These simpletons have no idea what tyrants they really are.”

Taking into account that Seawolf’s preferred pastor is allegedly no more than a talking-snake oil salesman at his best, and that she willingly ignores the edict expressed in Exodus 20:16 as if it were a group of respected virologists explaining how vaccines work, her insistence on magical thinking should really come as no surprise to anyone, save for the same puritanical panderers that purport a singular devotion to the imagination-based faith that when tested, finds itself betrayed by her contradictory actions.

While I for one, don’t believe in an overseeing Skydaddy outside of the one the US government inflicts itself as, I do have to wonder, that if one did exist, would he, being the petty sociopath that he tends to be, truly appreciate the irony of one of his alleged lambs running around with a mouthful of cherry-picked Scripture, and an icy heart brimming with hypocritical hate?

I think not, but what do I know? As I, unlike Seawolf, don’t require the services of a celestially cast-aside former employee to shoulder my personal foibles, nor do I shirk my culpability when my own actions bring the curs of chaos to my literal doorstep, either. If it’s my fault, I own that fact entirely, and I don’t see the practicality of subcontracting the resultant fallout to the innocent within my view, as Seawolf has seemingly done, for what seems to be most of her alleged to be an adult life.

And just like the other narcissiic prattlers of puerility that Seawolf slavishly worships, the valid criticism directed at her numerous failures as both a person and alleged Christian, are of course, never her fault, be it partially or entirely but are instead, the malicious machinations of select persons who, for some oddly never-named but always broadcast reason, are just envious of her… um… let’s see…

(Artbitch scratches head, stares into the vastness of his inner space for five long minutes, all while humming the theme from “The A-team, and still coming up blank.)

Ok, I don’t know what these said individuals might be jealous of, but something tells me it isn’t going to be based on her intellectual prowess, that’s for damn sure. Fortunately for us however, Seawolf’s very public pulpit of petulance [AKA: Facebook] provides the perfect conduit for her to express this singular view of facing consistently unwarranted persecution, in a way that only a snowflake doused in bargain-brand Max Factor could do- by posting sentiments cribbed off a Hobby Lobby display:

I wasn’t aware that total strangers would ever want histrionic displays of hypocrisy, faux Christian values, and a case of ever-increasing mental illness disguised as religious faith Ruth, but I guess it takes all kinds, am I right? Oh, and the reason why “they” hate on you, my apostle of the divine asinine, is because at your core, you’re an absolute horror-show of a human being. But don’t just take my word for it- Jesus himself, said as much, over brunch last week, right after he bragged about no longer taking your calls.

The varied definitions of the word “Great”, as defined by most common dictionaries, and as they’re applied to Seawolf: “Notably large in size”. Much in the way of how one might describe either her Ego or sense of personal ignorance. “Remarkable in magnitude, degree, or effectiveness” Also true, as Ruth is great at being a perfect example as to why condoms should have been given to her dad as a graduation gift. “A generalized term of approval”. This is true as well, for its gonna be a great day when they finally put Ruth in a room wallpapered with bubble wrap, and throw away the only key.

However, my overall favorite descriptive is this ironic gem; “One who is superior in character or quality.” This of course, only applies if you dare compare Ruth to her factory-made Chinese-equivalent, because even in this, the age of globalized outsourcing, the best alleged idiots such as she, are still manufactured right here in the good ol’ USA.

America. F**k yeah.

After perusing this clueless as hell assessment, I ‘m compelled to quote the late Cad Bane, the infamous former mentor to legendary bounty hunter Boba Fett; “Well if that isn’t the Quacta calling the Stifling slimy”, a position that I’m going to defend, no matter how many times the gathered Sith complain about it.

Not only is this a stunning case of a craven conservative engaging in a classic act of self-owning, the context of its irony, is literally off the scale, to jackboot. Seawolf’s entire raison d’être, as we’ve all seen, is fueled by a near-pathological obsession to not only judge those and the opinions that they may hold, a beneath contempt, but to falsely certify as well, that she had no choice but to do so.

As I noted earlier; Seawolf accepts as the truest of gospel, that the justifiable vitriol she has earned, beyond reproach, is not the debris drawn in by the mental magnetism of her arrogant idiocy, but is instead; “the malicious machinations of select persons who, for some oddly never-named but always broadcast reason, are just envious of her”, which no matter how you look at it, is wretchedly pathetic, even at its best.

Once again Ruth, NOBODY IS JEALOUS OF YO,  REGARDLESS OF WHATEVER THE VOICES IN YOUR VACUOUS HEAD SCREAM AT YOU.. I know this comes as a terrible shock to you, given your gift for supreme unawareness, but keep in mind, I say this as someone who’s spent a good amount of time mocking you incessantly, if only to amuse myself at your expense, which thus far, has worked out brilliantly whereas my sense of Zen is concerned…

To be brutally honest, it’s not that you’re the best or the most interesting gladiator in my pixilated coliseum of conservative cray-cray that I oversee, it’s just that you’re so goddamn insane, you’ve managed to far outpace the others in your spit-for-brains squad in regards to my inherent snarkiness manifesting itself as an ongoing writing project. Think of it as a simple case of the last prat standing, and you’ll understand where I’m coming from, and why you’re such an asset to what I do to expand my metaphorical creative space.

And as for your claim of others being “intimidated” by you? Well, taking into account that you tend to overreact to most situations as if you were Leatherface who’s just been gifted with a brand-new chainsaw and a passkey to a woman’s college sorority, I can understand why that is seemingly the general consensus of most persons in regards to this community of mine that you so continually harass.

I say “mine” because its become fairly obvious that you’re a blight upon it, not a bright spot within it, and when the blessed day finally arrives in which we as a town, metaphorically nail you to a crucifix constructed from your own hubris and cart you off to wherever destination where such a waste of skin and organs should find itself, Silver City itself, can finally enjoy a moment of relief, if not the satisfaction of a long-overdue job well-done.

Sure, I may not be a psychologist by any means, but when it comes to defining the parameters of your mental health, I am quite comfortable in openly declaring that you’re crazier than a late-stage syphilitic, afflicted with mad-cow disease. My sincerest apologies by the way, to both Syphilis and medically-challenged cows, for unlike Ruth, I know it’s really not your fault, and therefore, beyond your control.

With no due respect, the only individual that I see trying to intimidate people in my otherwise tranquil little hamlet via their access to a cabal of flying cafeteria Christian flunkies, is you, my walking example of what happens when a never-opened Bible inbreeds with a rice cake that failed community college… twice.

And no, I am never going to apologize for that comparison, because when we get right down to the three nails, you are perhaps, the worst example of the teachings of Jesus being into practice, since the assembling of the production team that gave us the 80’s Christian-themed hair-metal abomination that was known as Stryper.

On some level, we have only ourselves to blame for these succubae clad in spandex, and the sooner we just accept that, the sooner we can get over our equally crippling shame regarding Vanilla Ice. However, I would point out yet again, that a truly confident person, wouldn’t feel the need to continually post these sentiments reminiscent of a line of failed Christian greeting cards, if they actually believed the inferences therein to be true in the first place.

Case in point? Yet another example of Seawolf pointlessly creating drama where none existed initially, and then, after being fittingly held to task for her sociopathic pettiness, directing her unwarranted ire at an innocent, by wrapping herself in the mantle of undeserved persecution that she wears as if it were a sports bra, or as is more apt in her case, a girdle of narcissistic necessity.

Before I delve into the exact context and definitive narrative of what truly happened, let’s peruse this nugget of nattering, where Seawolf’s stereotypical passive-aggressive mewling of being allegedly traumatized by nothing less than quite possibly, the least professional person she’s ever met, enlightens us all in regards to her true maturity, or more precisely, her complete lack of it:
In my ever so humble opinion, there’s no better way to assert to the world entire, that you’re a rational adult, than by immediately taking to your social media accounts as if you were a sullen tween, so that you can whine about the sheer injustice of being minorly inconvenienced, am I right? Especially when there was no need to do so in the first place, as I will hopefully prove,

Now, after that first session of unnecessary online pearl-clutching, where literally every detail of whom Seawolf was complaining about was made public, via her time-tested technique of vague inference, you would think that would be the end of it, but you’d be eleven herbs and spices of dead wrong, because as I’ve shown over the course of several related screeds, using nothing save for her own public declarations, nothing, and I mean NOTHING, is ever Ruth’s fault:

I will eventually shine a critical light as to why this delusionally optimistic view of hers borders on the edge of barely contained blasphemy, but before I do that, let’s enjoy this additional moronic martini, if only to see just how far Seawolf is willing to distort truth in order to salve her oversensitive ego:

Let’s recap, if we can, what supposedly happened according to the kook that is Ruth- a local confectionery company named “Sugar High” dared to allegedly disrespect Ruth and her ever so valuable time, by daring to ask her for a key, in order to certify that the event hall that they rented, would be made secure after said event was over, if I happen to be reading between the lines of her original gripe correctly, and I’m sure that I am.

Rather thna just simply keeping her sense of offense to herself, she then goes on to further inflame the situation that she originated, by hypocritically kvetching about how the company she maligned online for no reason, was (GASP!) defending themselves against her unprovoked attack. Citing alleged “attempts” of boycotts with no evidence provided, (of course) she continues to play her “I’m the real victim here” card, as if it were the singular one in a gambit deck that she’s been dealing from the bottom of for years, if some of what I’ve been told, is even half-true.

For those of you paying attention, Seawolf struck first. After getting her sand-laden panties in a bunch, she went online for no other reason than the fact that she mainlines self-invented drama much in the way that John Belushi once did speedballs, and after giving enough veiled details regarding who she was slandering at the time, now feigns offense at the very idea that she’s being called onto the community’s carpet to answer for it.

The nerve. After all, isn’t she the victim here? Of course, she is. How could she not be? I only wish to point out that as it is her narrative, the mere suggestion that anyone should challenge its authenticity, can only be perceived as offensive, regardless of what witnesses and reality say in defiance of her obviously cherry-picked take on the imaginary feud that she alone, fomented into existence.  

And when you factor in that Sugar High was forced to make their Facebook business page private, due to licentious attacks by Seawolf, as well as her minions, it becomes even more crystalline regarding who’s really at fault here, and it sure as hell isn’t the lady choosing to make cookies over chasing imaginary enemies, that’s for goddamn sure. But just don’t take my words of sardonicism as proof of this concept, for as it is with all things contentious, the truth of such usually falls somewhere in the middle.

To that measure, I add this- the direct screenshots of the so-called “unprofessional” conversation that Seawolf felt compelled to share with the pathetic populace that inhabits her wretched sphere of ignorant influence. And in a twist that was totally expected, it doesn’t present itself in quite the same way that Ruth claimed it did. I know, I know, I was genuinely shocked too, given her penchant for brutal honesty. And that last sentence boys and girls, is exactly why Microsoft Word needs to add a “sarcastic” font.

As always, I won’t speak for you, but does anyone whose brain actually works as nature intended, truly regard SH’s responses to Seawolf’s immediate curtness as unprofessional? From the start, Ruth acknowledges that she had no clue that the key was supposed to be passed on, despite her long-term association with the event hall’s administration, but now SH is the one to solely blame for this minor logistical snafu?

Interesting interpretation of reality as usual, Ruth.

This does raise the question of just why Seawolf thought that any facet of this rather benign exchange merited a Vaguebook rant, when the simple act of grousing about her time being impugned to her dinner companions, was all that it might have merited. You know… like a normal person would do? But hey, you can’t really play the victim without a captive audience, and mythical Lord knows, Seawolf just loves to orate to the situational hostages that make up her Facebook friends list.

Another point that I found interesting, is that even though Seawolf was at dinner in another city adjacent to Silver City, SH’s request for her to drop off the key, and that, obviously when it was convenient, was far from the rudest of impositions that Seawolf alleged it was, given the general proximity of said respective townships, as evidenced by this Google Maps screenshot:

Seventeen minutes. That’s all. And if Seawolf was willing to meet SH’s representative even half way, she’d be absent from her dinner for the grand sum of twenty minutes, or simply dropped off the key after she was done shoveling food into that mewling maw she wittily refers to as a mouth. But no, SH was the one lacking professionalism here, along with being, and I quote; “mean”, as well.

You read that right, the modifier was “mean”. This, from a woman who slanders and threatens people left and right, all while hiding behind a rapidly decaying facade of faux Christianity and supposed community support. JFC, Ruth- I know you’re chronologically easing into your low 60’s, but seriously…just  how f**king old are you really? Because if I didn’t know better, I’d suggest your parents get you some much-needed anger management counseling before you’re allowed to enter pre-school.

And in what I can only assume is a sheer coinky-dink, it turns out that much like Seawolf, SH also holds events that help benefit the exceedingly small business community in my town, thereby in essence, serving as a direct challenge to Seawolf’s attempted stranglehold on such dealings. I’m certain that fact has played no part whatsoever in how Ruth decided to deal with the situation that she created out of conceited inanity, but Time will tell, I guess.

As I said… sheer coincidence, and nothing more, I’m sure. For the record, that sentence was mentally written in uppercase sarcastic font, and the moment they actually invent it, I’ll totally re-edit this section, and make it so. Nevertheless, I see no reason why Seawolf would even be sweating the merde pit that she dug with her sausage like fingers on social media, because as one of her fellow complicit cravens reminded her, “God’ was totally on her side:

This delusion, brought to you all, independent of the reality that (A) God doesn’t exist, and (B), if he did, he sure as f**k wouldn’t be backing Seawolf’s false recollection, given that whole omnipotent skillset that he once so famously journaled about. A few points I’d like to address here, if I may; first, Velda’s brain is obviously made out of Velveeta, and second, the only “ABBA FATHER” that I’m familiar with, is this guy:

… and I dare you, no, I double-dog dare you, to tell me to my face, eye to eye, that his stereotypical wardrobe, doesn’t kick the ever-living s**t out of that shapeless hummus sack that your fantastical savior dons every day, as if he were still paying for our collective original sin.

Now, if for no other reason than to maintain my reputation for being accurate, I will acknowledge that the phrase I just mocked, stems from the Aramaic word for father that was used by Jesus and Paul to address God in a relation of personal intimacy, but anytime I can throw a good ABBA-related joke into my literary mix, it stays in forever.

What also remains ostensibly unchanged, is the level of lingering fear that Seawolf has seemingly managed to percolate throughout my small community, and while this perception doesn’t have a base in her undertaking vengeful actions past exposing her masturbatory persecution complex online per se, it is widely recognized, that she’s my town’s resident wackadoo that’s best avoided whenever possible.

Granted, this unspoken edict isn’t due to Seawolf lacking the courage to do anything but screech to an otherwise empty sky, but more to the reality that the people who follow her, have quite the taste for issuing threats and ominous portents for those they believe have unjustly crossed swords with her.

I’ve covered this particular topic in previous screeds, so I won’t rehash it here, but when you take someone like Seawolf, who is the closest thing I’ve ever witnessed to being a human analog for an unbalanced and barely sentient undercooked pork-pot-pie, the notion that giving it even the merest amount of sway over a throng of feeble-minded muttonheads, based on nothing more than the futile hope that something good will come out of it, is wildly over-optimistic, to say the very least.

Don’t fully trust my take on this? Well how about these gathered remarks from random townsfolk, wherein they discuss exactly who Seawolf is truly perceived to be, as a control? For the sake of personal privacy, and to reduce the threat of possible retribution for expressing their opinions so openly, I’ve stripped away the personal information attached to these commentaries, for as the writer, the heat should be on me, and not those just trying to do the right thing.

Let me give you some insight as to what the general mood of my town typically is- it’s the kind of place where people open doors for you, compliment you, your dog, and your kids in the same breath, and if you time it right, some people will even happily let you grab the “good’ parking space at Walmart. So, when chatter like this becomes commonplace, it’s a sure sign that the collective nerve has been stepped on once too often for comfort’s sake.

Nevertheless, let’s not forget who the “real” victim is here, boys and girls, because if we do, it’s almost a certainty that she’ll start pounding on her keyboard as if she were an ape from the prologue of i2001: A Space Odyssey, until we all give her the attention she so desperately, if not pathetically, craves. I’ve heard of being addicted to drama, but I wasn’t aware that one could replace all their body fluids with it, so I guess that whole concept of “you learn something new every day” is less of an abstract, and more of a proven theorem.

Speaking of which, the last topic I’d like to dissect before I wrap this narrative up, is one that I’ve always found to be the most cravenly of Seawolf’s deflective tactics, namely the employment of possibly false claims alleging targeted persecution by unnamed others, in order to avoid shouldering her fair share of personal culpability in regards to the malicious maelstrom of disingenuousness that she directs outward towards my community at large.

Why, you may ask, would I dare disparage her oft-repeated assertions of being harassed so flippantly, you ask? Well, as a start, she’s never presented any credible evidence {more on this in a bit} to support her claims, despite a supposed and definitive pattern of such incidents, and yet, her fan club of equally paranoid pinheads, swallow these obvious lies, as if they were manna Door-Dashed from Heaven itself.

And yes, as you would expect, she was gracious enough to provide a prime example of her approach to crafting her boat of falsehoods, even though in the end, she inadvertently drills a hole in the floor of it, by showing us how the trick was done.

In retrospect, as this screenshot, taken close to two years ago during Trump’s distractors reign as Philanderer in Chief, Seawolf’s claim of unjust maltreatment, reads less like a laundry list of baseless complaints, and more of a “How I did it” study aid for future psychologists, does it not?

Other than literally admitting unknowingly to the reality that she’s the one common denominator in relation to an imaginary siege foisted by others, she also throws in quite the healthy dash of paranoia, along with her usual topping of over-dramatized deceitfulness as well.

I personally love the inclusion regarding the native-breed snake she callously (if not pointlessly) killed, serving as an emissary of intimidation, while histrionically claiming that message on the postcard, which strangely only displayed the non-addressed side, was nothing less than a “fear tactic” that somehow was “even worse”? I can only offer my sincerest kudos for her taking the most benign of random occurrences, and then turning them into Dark Side icons worthy of Darth Vader.

Not only can snakes “climb”, you delusional dingbat, they’re also running wild all over the place out here, as we live in the f**king high desert. I have owls, crows, ravens, rabbits, all manner of birds, and no less than three different species of snake that use my front and back yards as their interspecies highway, and I say this as a guy who lives in the middle of a suburban development.

But let’s start off with the postcard whose message was so speciously vile, that Seawolf, driven by no less than her inherent sense of infinite concern for the delicate sensibilities of those unknown to her, chose not to display it, because when it comes to bequeathing the knowledge of that whish is unpleasant to the community as a whole, Ruth is definitely the matron who prefers lobbing marshmallows, rather than missiles.

Unfortunately for Seawolf, but not for us however, she couldn’t help but share her disgust at the hand-scrawled memorandum present on the card’s opposite side, deciding to share it with one of her fellow whiny wackadoos on their page instead, and by doing so, finally revealed to the Web entire, exactly just what resides in the blackest of her detractors’ hearts: 

Dear God… after reading this, I honestly have no idea how I’ll ever be able to sleep without all of the lights in my bedroom turned on. The inclusion of facts, drawn from proven statistical data, with a dash of sarcasm at the end? It’s as chilling as swallowing a Peppermint Patty, while sitting nude on a commode crafted from the purest of glacial ice.

As far as “fear tactics” go, this one is so subtle in the deliverance of its terrorization, it almost comes off as possessing no threat whatsoever, which in two words, is simply brilliant. I can only speak for myself here, as I always do, but that sinister, if not overly jaunty, addition of a happy face at the end, is nothing less than a modern-day allusion to “The Five Orange Pips” as written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and if you don’t what I’m talking about, go visit your local library and ask for it.

Reading is fundamental after all, which is why modern-day conservatives are ever so keen to ban or burn the conduits of its delivery. That is, when they can’t cherry-pick a false narrative out of its ashes, of course. In regards to Seawolf’s deliberate perjury about the postcard’s context, logic should now infer that when assessing her accounting of a biblically epic tale of personal harassment, it might be prudent for all those who read it, to do so with about a pound-and-a-half of salt within reach.

And since we have so much salt just laying around in reserve, I suggest we take it all, and rub it straight into Seawolf’s self-created wounds, as consequence for having to be witness to her pathetic-as-f**k   reenactment of “The Boy Who Cried Wolf“, a beloved morality tale transcribed into existence within the pages of the Aesopica, by the slave and storyteller Aesop, who is believed to have lived in Greece during the time period between 620 and 564 BCE.

For those unfamiliar with the story, its synopsis is thus: after a young shepherd who, being lonely and fearful, decides to call for help by shouting “Wolf!”, realizing that every time he does so, the people of his town appear in droves to lend aid and comfort. Encouraged by this response based on his selfish abuse of the townspeople’s initial trust, he continues the subterfuge, until the same said people start, catching on that despite being alerted several times, no wolf is ever seemingly present at the scene.

Infuriated by this deceit, they then ignore his future cries when a wolf finally does appear, and starts to attack his flock. The obvious moral of the story, of course, is that when you’re openly regarded as a liar, there will be no forthcoming praise directed your way, even if one day, you do decide to tell the truth for once. By no means am I a betting man, but if house odds were ever placed on Ruth recalling her interpersonal dealings accurately, I’d willingly sign over my house if not my lungs, to cover the buy-in.

Let’s all recall for a moment, that Seawolf has publicly declared that she has been the needless victim of slanderous harassment, alleged attempts at boycotts, implied threats, and (GASP!) living with the horror that unnamed persons might compete with her Facebook pages, because in these violently viral times, that’s really the best way to stick it to a narcissist such as Seawolf,

And let’s not also forget, just how effectively the local wildlife has been manipulated into psychologically intimating Seawolf as well, as if they were the special operations branch overseen by rogue elements within MI6, if not Nehebkau. And yet…?

Despite her love of posting her self-created, if not selectively cherry-picked drama all over her Facebook empire of egotism, Seawolf has NEVER once, forwarded proof of any of these activities. Not one screenshot of a supposedly threatening email, text message, or so much as a snippet of harshly phrased audio. Nor has her public ever been witness to a photo of a vandalistic act waged against either her, or for that matter, any of her businesses, as well.

It can’t be just me that this strikes strange, can it? As shown, the sole attempt that she’s ever made at providing a shred of evidence to bossier her petty histrionics, turned out to be a deceitfully presented false narrative, so as to how I would address the bulk of her declarations that she’s trapped inside a cloak of concern for her general well-being, is to reference what passes as her intellect, and call it out for what it truly is…

PURE BULLS**T.

Now, notwithstanding my cynicism, I wasn’t just going to casually sign off on Seawolf’s penchant for manifesting metaphorical wolves out of the ether provided by the voices in her head, as being able to back up what I write is a definitive requirement when dealing with persons afflicted with a persecution complex such as Ruth, but in order to do that, I would need concrete proof from a source that had no skin in the fight to begin with, if only to add the weight of validation behind what I’ve been saying.

And what form of champion is there better equipped to handle the task of establishing accuracy, than an archive of public records?  Granted, maybe only Jesus himself, but since I don’t believe in him, and I’m on an exceedingly tight budget, to begin with I’ll have to take whatever advantage I can get., To that end, I decided to start with the most logical place, that being my local police department, or to be more specific, their compiled “blotter”.

As is the case with most trades, police have their own terminology for the various components relating to their job, and the term “blotter”, is nothing more than a standard descriptive for a book that records the arrests and varied minutiae that occurs within a police station on a daily basis.

Arrests are recorded as they occur, although specific details such as name, age, and address of the suspect/person arrested, time and place of an incident, name of the officer who responded to the incident, and name of the victim/complaining person may, or may not, be excluded, depending on the legal statutes of the locality involved. What is consistent however, is the ability for the general public to access them without question and without informational limitations, save for the ones that I just noted.

So, if we were to take a skip through the pages of the blotter belonging to the Silver City PD, what would it tell us about Seawolf? Would it show a consistent pattern in regards to her assumed to be false allegations, or would it instead, vindicate her as a truly innocent victim of of personal harassment? Before I answer either question, I’d like to point out that by law, the police are required to log every single call for assistance, irrespective of whether the lodged complaint is investigated further. or not.

In ither words, every time that Seawolf has found herself allegedly threatened, and then posted on Facebook about reaching out to the police due to such an intrusion, there should be either a report, or at the very least, an notation of the incident itself, within the blotters interior. And yes, she has talked about reaching out to the cops, just in case you were wondering:

For Crywolf’s information, being reported to your employer, in this case, that being Farmers Insurance, for unprofessional if not unethical behavior, does not in any way, shape, pr form, constitute “harassment”, unless the accusations presented are slanderous, and thanks to Ruth’s obsessive posting involving her seemingly false narratives, she, ironically, is the one fueling her own degradation in the eyes of those she works for.

But do you know what actually constitutes harassment, Ruth? Labeling innocent businesses, one of which, (coincidentally) is in competition with you, as unprofessional and actively fraudulent, threatening your detractors with being on a list of supposed “enemies”, and pretending that you’re Joan of Arc being burned at the stake, when you’re called out for utilizing your fetid Facebook pages to do so, without any apparent shame, justifiable incentive, or remorseful self-reflection.

Some context, if I may? What Ruth is mewling about here, is the fact that her penchant for slandering local businesses, issuing paranoid conspiracy theories, and promoting the violation of common-sense health protocols that allegedly led to her becoming ill with COVID, was not only brought to the attention of Farmer’s customer service and human resources departments, but to her District Manager, one Kenneth Miyagishima as well.

Despite his clearly insincere insistence on offering multiple platitudes that he would soon take action regarding Crywolf’s intolerable actions and assertions, as of this writing, Miyagishima hasn’t done squawk about it, despite being served up a truckload of evidentiary data to support the complaint.

If I were a cynic, I’d suggest that this inaction may be due to knowing that the issue at hand has been sitting in his lap for over a year now, and given this knowledge, his bosses might start asking some uncomfortable questions as to just why the situation wasn’t rectified sooner, but I’ll digress for now, as the concern is currently being reviewed by the Mexico Insurance Commission, and I’m sure those people might actually have a thing or two to say, when all is said and done.

As per her SOP, Crywolf tells only the half of the story to garner undeserved sympathy, but over-delivers twice the expected bulls**t as well, because when the public records archive is examined in depth, the real tale takes precedence over Crywolf’s fabrications.

Notwithstanding some valid reports involving concerns at one of the companies she worked at, which I will address in a moment, when it comes to the issue of her personal safety or that of her reputation, there’s absolutely NO MENTION WHATSOEVER of any threats, specifically targeted vandalism, or proof of harassment via phone, email, letters, or text.

None. Zip. Zilch. Nada. ZERO.

Given the now-verified inauthenticity of her prior claims, I’d almost have-to suggest that Crywolf has managed to, and this almost transcendentally, definitively blur the line between wearing a tin-foil hat, and actually becoming one that’s ambulatory. I’m fairly confident that if this incontrovertible evidence were brought to Ruth’s attention, keeping in mind that this is only my opinion based on… well, everything she seems to represent, she’d either manufacture a rationalization on the spot, or more than likely, claim that the local police were aligned against her as well.

Which to be fair, is not really that much of a slanderous supposition, when you factor in as a whole, the myriad of fantastical fantasies she’s willingly disseminated on Facebook in the past. As noted earlier above, the police are required by law, to log every single call for assistance, irrespective of whether the lodged complaint is investigated further. or not.

This is not a case of debatable “He said / She said” when it comes to her claims of being victimized, it’s a now proven pattern of outright falsehoods crafted to cast her in the best light, without the merit of credible evidence proving that she should be so.

As you may collectively recall, she’s publicly declared that Lady GaGa is part of a Satanic blood cult that practices blood sacrifice and hurts children, that the seditionary actions occurring on January 6th were the result of insidious machinations by BLM and Antifa agents, and closed off her circle of cray-cray by bragging about how “God” once sent her a celestial sign via a receipt from Walmart, my implying that she’s nuttier than a case of Zagnut bars, seems almost genteel, if only in retrospect.

Even so, I still must ask the elephant in the room the only question that needs to be answered in relation to the issue at hand, and it is this: Is Crywolf lying though her f**king teeth as usual, or is she just so goddamn arrogantly stupid, that she truly believes that nobody knows that she is? While I’m not a fan of dissemblers by any stretch of their imagination, I will admit a slightly begrudging respect for the ones who are actually good at it, unlike our cafeteria Christian cry-wolfer here.

You would think after years of allegedly practicing her bitchcraft, she’d be somewhat competent in presenting it to an uninterested public, but you’d be wrong. Not as wrong as Ruth’s stereotypical take on politics, gender identity, racial concerns, cultural movements, personal responsibility, or the actual lessons to be learned from her imagined saviors’ teachings, to be sure, but still pretty damn close, nonetheless.

As showcased earlier, Crywolf does appear in the SCPD blotter, under her Christian name of Seawolf, but because I believe in the purity of calling a histrionic twit a histrionic twit, I’d suggest that in the future, we all should use the moniker I bestowed upon her, in order to make the time we have to spend debunking and mocking yet another one of her farcical tales of terror mad flesh, that much more rewarding.

While Crywolf has posted a litany of claims minus any proof, in regards to perceived and alleged threats for quite some time now, the archived register of such events, fails to provide even the merest of solidarity for her stories to stand on- I’m sure there’s just an error in bookkeeping, rather than her being a disingenuous liar, because as we’ve seen, truthfulness is most definitely, one of her strongest [personal attributes.

The first incident to be found within the official record, was an act of grand larceny committed against the real estate company that Ruth was affiliated with, and involved the theft of a bank deposit bag from the premises. Other than the fact that some genius left it (and close to a thousand dollars in deposits) in an unlocked drawer, there’s no direct connection whatsoever to any of Crywolf’s seemingly manufactured drama, nor was the theft itself indirectly witnessed either, as the business in question, had no video surveillance system in place at the time…

The subsequent incidents that occurred, and I might add, indecently of each other, were two similarly themed acts of minor criminal damage, namely, a singular broken window, one at Ruth’s workplace, and the second, at a residence she was acting as the broker for. In neither case, was there any secondary evidence that suggested that Crywolf was the intended victim of specifically targeted harassment, nor has any proof been discovered since, that supports the same conclusion.

So, what does all of this supplementary data indicate to us as a whole?

Easy answer- either (A) Crywolf is an out and out master of spreading a reconstructed and delusional Truth, or (B) there’s an insidious plot, guided by no less than the hands of Satan, that involves the citizenry of Silver City, its local constabulary, an as yet unnamed atheist cabal determined to keep her from dispensing the Gospel of Gullibility, to her equally as intellectually vapid fan club of complicit cravens

And in a twist of narrative that no one saw coming, save for her future overworked psychologists, agents of either the Deep State, the New World Order, or even possibly, the Antichrist himself, have collectively decided, for no particular reason at all, to waste their valuable time and energy screwing with a woman who presents herself as if she were a Christian Fembot as seen within the pages of a Hobby Lobby catalog.

Yeah… that makes sense, right? Regardless of what I may believe to be the truth, based on, and bolstered by, no less than Crywolf’s publicly posted words and actions, if one of their own volitions decides to undertake an in-depth evaluation of what Crywolf has claimed, and what reality itself has actually proven in opposition to such, I’m fairly confident that in the end, their supposition of Seawolf’s culpability for the continual drama storm swirling around her, will be equal to my own.

However, since Ruth also declares her devotion to a faith whose spiritual context she fails to either grasp or emulate, and one that she has so arrogantly weaponized into a cudgel if not a shield, I felt that the only way to end this screed, was with this apt snippet from 6:16-19 of Proverbs: “There are six things that the Lord hates, seven that are an abomination to him: haughty eyes, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked plans, feet that make haste to run to evil, a false witness who breathes out lies, and one who sows discord among brothers.”

For most of us, it remains to be seen what happens when we shuffle off the mortal coil to face the supposed final  judgement of what I perceive as no more than an ignorant myth, but if his veracity of being does turn out to be true, odds are roughly 50/50 as to where I may wind up, due to the fact that both sides have legitimate claim, but as to Ruth’s celestial fate, given her actions on earth?

Well, if I were forced to be brutally honest, deep down in my gut, I’m thinking that Ruth should probably stock up on an eternal supply of Aloe Vera, because that whining wench is most definitely going to require it. But who knows? Maybe God will bless her with some of that infinite grace she supposedly admires so much, but never dispenses herself.

As I wrap this up, I see the clock has struck five past midnight, and for now at least, it’s time to put my claws back in their box, and grab some well-deserved shut-eye. And when I come back, I’ll take an absurd detour into the gift shop of Wackadoo World, and discover that the best conspiracy-themed tchotchkes are still made right here in the good ol’ USA.

“Karma comes after everyone eventually. You can’t get away with screwing people over your whole life, I don’t care who you are. What goes around comes around. That’s how it works. Sooner or later the universe will serve you the revenge that you deserve.” – Jessica Brody, The Karma Club

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


The Kook of Ruth Pt.2 (Re-tease the Karen!)

“Narcissists are consumed with maintaining a shallow false self to others. They’re emotionally crippled souls that are addicted to attention. Because of this they use a multitude of games, in order to receive adoration. Sadly, they are the most ungodly of God’s creations because they don’t show remorse for their actions, take steps to make amends or have empathy for others. They are morally bankrupt.”

– Shannon L.  Alder

Greetings, Bitchiteers!

I don’t know about you, but I just love Winter, and everything about it- the crispness of the air, the biting wind in your face, the rationalizing that there’s no prescribed time as to when you can have hot chocolate, and the best part of all, the grey feeling of desolation that hangs in the sky. That is, until that annoyingly perky season known as “Spring” shows up, and crashes the snowbound shindig

And while my fashion palette declares earnestly to anyone who’ll listen that I’m an Autumn, my soul has always been wearing an ugly sweater and sipping a heated Dr. Pepper, as I languidly sprawl in front of a roaring fire, listening to a CD of Billy Idol’s Christmas album; “Happy Holidays” on repeat.

Snicker all that you want, but this will-never-not-be-a-classic disc, is a certified gas. More importantly, it makes me truly happy, since as of late, I’ve found myself yet again, venomously dealing with a person so egocentric, that even Plato, who advocated for the Geocentric Model regarding planetary orbits, would recommend that they pick up a science book, if only to discover that they’re not the center of the known universe.

urrent screed is notated as a “Pt. 2”, it stands to reason that this is a continuance of my previous blogvella, where I revisited a previous chew-toy of mine, and suggested in essence, that when it came to the particularly hateful harpy that I was writing about, their current dedication to exhibiting their “crazy” so openly might not necessarily be curable, but it could be medicated, and perhaps that would be the first step in bringing this wackadoo back to the land of Reality that the remainder of us whose brains still work correctly, happily call home.

To argue my point, I exhibited some of their publicly online assertions, as well as their self-pitying passion plays, and as usual, approached my somewhat caustic take dispensing the milk of human kindness, as only I can. From a non-working refrigerator, that’s been sitting in the middle of the Sahara for three and a half weeks.

I feel however, that despite my inherent snarkiness, the inane individual that I was allegorically flaying alive using nothing else save their own words, actions, and online segments to do so, my admiration for their commitment to foisting dazzlingly dense displays of disingenuousness upon the undeserving public at large, was truly impressive, to say the very least.

If I had to draw a parallel between their following through on showing us all what a failing public education system would look like as a person, while remaining true to themselves, I’d label them as the Mandolorian of Morons.

Sorry. That was rude of me to suggest, given that the Mandolorian himself, is a complex character with an adherence to a [personal creed that honors self-sacrifice above all else, and today’s return guest idea of true altruism, is to milk every drop out of her homespun drama, as if it were the last vestiges of Manna from Heaven itself.  

As someone who rightfully prides themselves on their own personal productivity, I can’t tip my hat hard enough to show my envy concerning this person’s efficiency at mass-producing the very drug they need to remain feeling both delusionally relevant, if not morally superior to everyone else.

Without any further ado, let me take this moment to re-introduce an individual who blazes her own path, as if she were Anakin Skywalker taking a shortcut through a Jedi preschool, and of whom, author Walter Bagehot might have coined the following: “Nothing is more unpleasant than a virtuous person with a mean mind.” Granted, todays squeal on a stick is far meaner than she’s ever been virtuous, but let’s not quibble over semantics, shall we?

Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present the answer to what happens when a Bible and a lack of access to birth control, decide to have a one-night stand, and accidentally spawn a barely sentient stack of rancid communion wafers, so put your hands together for Silver City’s very own …

RUTH DARLENE SEAWOLF!!!
(Off in the distance, a singular cricket chirps, as a lone tumbleweed rolls on by…)

Bitchiteers? We’ve talked about this- regardless of whose head is locked in the stocks of my Hasbro French Revolution Playset, you still have to clap, and show the decorum of proper respect, even if that person doesn’t deserve it. Especially then. After all, when the emblematic guillotine blade is dropped and all is said and sone, I’ll have yet another work of public service under my belt, and you’ll get a spanking brand-new soccer ball to play with. Everybody’s a winner.

Well, everybody but Ruth, that is. Or come to think of it, anyone else that has to sadly deal with her lack of a truly dizzying intellect on a consistent basis. I’ve often said that one of my key tests in determining the likeability of a person, is to ask myself whether or not I could handle being trapped with them in an elevator for about an hour or so, which overall, I’ve always felt is an adequate timeframe in which to ascertain such an abstract concept. .

In Seawolf’s case, not only would I go out of my way to not find myself sharing a lift with her, I‘d make it a point to take the stairs, just to avoid any risk of my metaphorical scenario occurring in the first place. And I say this, both as a partial amputee who’d missing a quarter of his left foot, and as someone who’d rather jump out a window during a high-rise fire, rather than negotiate a stairwell with my cane.

But in the end, it really wouldn’t matter, because despite all evidence to the contrary, if Ruth and I did find ourselves trapped within a box of steel, overflowing with her speculative Ego, asking her beforehand as to whether it was crucial that we got along or not, would most likely be met with this response:Unfortunately for Seawolf’s false decree, her own public displays of near-sociopathic pettiness, have proven this valuation of hers to be entirely false, if not wholly hypocritical. Seawolf does care, and that, quite a lot, it seems. I’ve met some drama queens in my day, but I never thought I’d honestly hear of someone in my small hamlet, who could do a one-woman play of “La Cage Aux Folles” without breaking a sweat, let me tell you.

And while I myself, refuse to believe in the concept of an all-powerful, all-seeing, and omnipotent God, as I really don’t want to help enable unreliable and inconsequential sociopaths, I’d be of the mindset that if such a deity did exist, he’d consciously avoid Seawolf as if she were a Mormon Sister he accidentally gave his real name and phone number to, after an awkward one-night stand just outside of Provo.

We’ve all heard the phrase; “Jesus protect me from your followers”, but has anyone ever considered the strong possibility that when dealing with cafeteria Christians like Seawolf, he himself, may utter the same under his breath? I’d happily point out that for someone who claims to use her rarely opened copy of the “Good Book” as a guide for living her life, Seawolf references her Facebook one far more often, as a rule.  

I knew that being addicted to drama can manifest as a real concern for some people, but JFC…  is it really possible to be jonesing for a hit 24/7? Apparently so, and I say this as a person who, despite looking forward to confrontation the way a preschooler looks forward to Christmas morning, has been known to take the occasional break every now and then,

If Ruth on the other hand, through either legalities or the nature of her personal circumstances at the time, found herself being forcibly detoxed cold turkey style, of her obsessive need to create territorial turbulence, she just may, through the severity of her withdrawal, inadvertently craft the unintentional sequel to Nikki Sixx’s the Heroin Diaries.

Once again, Seawolf posts a declaration of self, only to later negate it, or pretend like I always do with the Star Wars prequels, that said self-own never existed in the first place. If God thinks so highly of her, then why is she always (allegedly) under some form of spiritual duress? If God rewards those who praise him ceaselessly, shouldn’t Seawolf have achieved her VIP status by now, thereby granting her the perk of being safe from harm under the gaze of his ever-watching eye?

After all, if Ruth is to be believed, which, on most days, is a 90/10 split at its supreme best, she’s apt to be down on her knees servicing the Lord, which truly sounds somewhat dirty, but seriously, is not meant to be. So, if any of this is true, then why would she feel compelled to say something like this in the past?

Yep. You heard it here first, folks… the reason there’s so much drama swirling around Ruth as if she were a streaming service specializing in low-budget telenovelas, is because she “thinks differently”, which to be fair, is also a descriptive that one could apply to every single middle-aged White woman seen on YouTube, screaming at an African-American for doing nothing, save for existing.

I hate to burst your bubble Ruth, but in order to be considered as thinking differently, one actually has to be accused of being able to think first, and that’s an allegation that’s never been, nor will it ever be, a[plied to you. And if you need wonder why this is, may I suggest that you re-read anything you’ve posted online, as all will be made clear, even to a person such as yourself, who inaccurately perceives reality through eyes that have been superglued shut.

While her paranoia is entertaining, if not ingrained, knowing that Seawolf has accrued an “enemies list” of sorts, does raise a few questions, does it not? Are these enemies of hers real, such as Logic, Facts, and her oldest nemesis, Reality, or are they imaginary, like Satan, her Faith, her Empathy, or established dependability in regards to telling the truth as it actually is?  This is not to say outright that Seawolf is deceitful, but if she ever told me that Biggie Smalls was dead, I’d do my best to confirm that information with Tupac Shakur first.

The credibility of her assertions has been questioned within my small community not only by myself, but numerous others, and the collective conclusion that has been reached, is that you would think that for somebody who bears false witness as much as Seawolf does, she’d actually be somewhat competent at doing so by now. Nothing could be further from the truth, save for Ruth herself, that is, and that proven theorem is what I’ll be discussing as this screed progresses.

Regardless of topic, albeit Religion, Public Health, Politics, Cultural Norms, Civil Rights, or the proper temperature at which one should chill Ding Dongs, Seawolf being counted on to get it wrong, is an almost bankable certainty. And on those rare conditions when she does get “it” right, I can assure you that she’ll find some way to squander that attained good will, almost immediately.

One particular area where Ruth comes off as stunningly dumber than a box of Bibles, is the land of politics. Whether it’s crafting false analogies to connect dots that don’t line up, or fabricating falsities out of the thin air that encompasses the vacuous void between her ears, Seawolf consistently showcases why Right-wing media and its disseminators, should be classified as hazardous waste, and is the primary reason as to why her yearly CAT scan, tends to be designated as a reevaluation for a Superfund site. 

Take for instance, Seawolf’s deep insights regarding “what’s really going on”, and see tor yourselfYes Ruth. “They” really did need 2000 Marshalls for an inauguration, thanks to a largely unhinged contingent of your inane ilk attempting to overthrow democracy a short time before. Strange how you left that part out of your narrative I can only guess you were too busy being offended by the Capitol police stopping them from doing so.

As to Democrats “knowing what’s coming”, yes we do. a whole bunch of you are about to display your lack of intelligence on a level unforeseen in this country, but not uncommon among those who routinely spray-paint things inside a sealed garage.

As to Democrats “knowing what’s coming”, yes we do. a whole bunch of you are about to display your lack of intelligence on a level unforeseen in this country, but not uncommon among those who routinely spray-paint things inside a sealed garage. However, attempting to compare the violence, destruction, and faux patriot disrespect of one of America’s oldest and revered institutions to the disturbances springing from the relatively [peaceful anti-police protests across the country, is such a Karen take, that even Karen herself, wants to talk to your manager…. now.

But you’re right about one thing. Nobody is fooling an all-knowing, all-seeing God. Especially yourself, hence the reason why he’s polishing up the boot that he’ll use when he kicks your venomously disingenuous ass straight into the gaping maw of Hell. But then again, since he’s a myth that seems either powerless or wholly complicit, in relation to the harm that he foresees is about fo befall his creations, maybe the dice will roll in your favor, regardless.Man, this reads like an L. Ron Hubbard novel- complete with a plot that has so many disparate threads, you’d have to read it at least twice to understand the underpinning of insanity it took to scribe it in the first place.

So to recap, this odiously imaginative pile of pretentious pointlessness, the Clintons, Joe Biden, his nonelected son Hunter, were all in devious league with the nation of China, as well as a host of several other unnamed countries, to engineer the fall of Afghanistan, in order to cover up unspecified crimes, and only Ruth and her cabal of poetically ignorant pinheads, have managed to put the pieces of this conspiracy puzzle together.   

I particularly like her confidence in expressing that Biden, despite being integral to the subversion, is seemingly going to be deposed as collateral damage, in order to further an undescribed, yet somehow nefariously brilliant “evil agenda”, that she herself, can’t set the parameters of. Never let it be said that you can’t reach for the proverbial stars when you’re obviously mentally ill kids, for Ruth is shining proof that you can. Even if those “stars” are Sean Hannity, Laura Ingrahm, and of course, Tucker Carlson.

Sadly though, it’s apparently only going to get worse for Joe Biden, and Seawolf as usual, is all over it, using the inside information that the voices in her head provided her. Or maybe she got her intel off of a bumper sticker or even perhaps, from a meme. Somedays, its kind of hard to tell with her, given the fact that her grasp of political intrigue, is just as firm as the one she’s presented regarding her seemingly in decline sanity.

My mythical God… it all makes sense now. The Deep State, supported by corrupt Democrats, rigged the 2020 presidential election, tin order to install a political patsy, that for some unproven by evidence reason, is going to be eventually removed, so that his Indian-American female counterpart, can assume supreme control, in order to continue, and I quote; “their evil doing”, whatever the f**k that is.  Yup. It’s such a brilliantly subtle plan, that I can easily see why a rational mind could easily overlook it.

I would like to, if I may, point out yet another instance of hypocritically slurring Biden as being mentally incompetent from a group of people whose Fanta Fascist once said the following;

In regards to the topic of gay marriage, as quoted (1/5/11) in the New York Times: “It’s like in golf… A lot of people – I don’t want this to sound trivial – but a lot of people are switching to these really long putters, very unattractive… it’s weird. You see these great players with these really long putters, because they can’t sink three-footers anymore. And, I hate it. I am a traditionalist. I have so many fabulous friends who happen to be gay, but I am a traditionalist.”

This advice brought to you, by a person who believes in traditional marriage so much, he cheated on all three of his wives, two of whom, are ex-mistresses.

Concerning the valid issue of Global warming, as posted (6/10/12) on Twitter: “The concept of global warming was created by and for the Chinese in order to make U.S. manufacturing non-competitive.”

Not sure how that works out, but I’m sure the guy who manufactured his clothing line in China, kept secret bank accounts there, and allowed his daughter to acquire a boatload of trademarks as he paid them more in taxes there than he did in America, will definitely, one day, put them in their place.,

As quoted in the book, “TrumpNation: The Art of Being the Donald”, discussing one of his favorite movie scenes: “My favourite part [of Pulp Fiction] is when Sam has his gun out in the diner and he tells the guy to tell his girlfriend to shut up. ‘Tell that bitch to be cool. Say: Bitch be cool.’ I love those lines.”

This slice of misogyny offered up from a so-called man, who also once said on Face the Nation; “I will be phenomenal to the women. I mean, I want to help women.” Interesting approach, Donny. And who can ever forget his boast on Twitter regarding his Intelligence, where he declared; “Sorry losers and haters, but my IQ is one of the highest – and you all know it! Please don’t feel so stupid or insecure, it’s not your fault.”

And then, to show off that highest IQ, eventually went on to talk about how windmill noise causes cancer, toilets in America require ten flushes, how modern LED bulbs made him look orange, noted that; “What you’re seeing and what you’re reading is not what’s happening”, and in what may be be one of my personal favorites, said this, when asked about his desire to retrieve the remains of our nations veterans who were killed during the Korean War:

 “One of the things that really I’m happy is that the soldiers that died in Korea, their remains are going to be coming back home. And we have thousands of people that have asked for that- thousands and thousands of people. So many people asked when I was on the campaign,” Trump added. “I’d say, ‘wait a minute, I don’t have any relationship- but they said, ‘when you can, president, we’d love our son to be brought back home… you know, the remains.”

Trump openly declared that while he was on the campaign trail in 2016, the parents of our revered war dead asked for his direct assistance, but there’s one almost embarrassingly irrelevant problem in regards to this claim of his- that being, these alleged parents of soldiers who fought in the war, would’ve been (on average) roughly 100 years old at the time, and not one shred of evidence, be it a photo or a video clip, backs up his highly questionable claim. I know, I know… I was shocked too.

Mainly that anybody bought this pile of bulls**t at face value, but I digress. But let’s just ignore his track record of lies, misdirection, sexual perversion, graft, money laundering, violating visa law, treason, and stunning narcissistic ineptitude, to bash on Joe Biden, who unlike Trump, has never bragged on tape about wanting to f**k his own kid and sexually assaulting women, just before it was revealed that he had paid a pornstar to f**k him, while his wife was at home, caring for their newborn child.

And yet, despite all that I just laid out, the topic Seawolf feels the need to so desperately disuses is the intellect of the current president who, unlike the one she pleasures herself to, didn’t ignore the pandemic, didn’t downplay the events of January Sixth, didn’t push conspiracy theories to explain away his political and personal blunders, and most importantly, never insulted an alleged sexual assault victim, by saying; “She’s not my type’, as Trump publicly did, in regards to Elle magazine columnist, E. Jean Carroll.

Such an insensitive, if not outrightly insufferable comment BTW, not only proves that Trump’s boast about grabbing helpless women “by the pu**y” was by no means, just “locker room talk”, as his defenders have nauseatingly claimed, it also disturbingly indicates that out there somewhere, is, a “type” he’d be more than happy to rape, given the right circumstances. But let’s ignore that blatant admission, in favor of Ruth’s pathetic gaslighted distraction, instead.

That’s what I’ve always found interesting about Seawolf- whenever she points her finger at someone, the ones pointing back at her, resemble a pack of headless hydras. For an average person, this amount of tone-deafness in relation to one’s personal hypocrisy would be labeled as “stunning”, but when it comes to Ruth, I’ve; learned to see it as just another normal Tuesday.

When one takes into account Seawolf’s political ignorance, fondness for conspiracy theories, as well as her ever-increasing sociopathic zealotry, I can only estimate how long it will be before the streets of my small town suffer the experience of her running down them, screaming this at the top of her lungs:

If there truly is a “God” that exists, I can only hope that regardless of uts theological theology, they stress upon the voices in Seawolf’s head, the importance of remaining clothed as she does so,, for my town at this point, has already in my widely accepted opinion, suffered enough unwarranted degradation due to her brazenly arrogant presence within it.

When it comes to the small slice of a Norman Rockwell painting in which I live, Seawolf’s position as an honorary deacon of detestable idiosyncrasies is hardly a secret, but the fallout that should n=be meted out in response, is barely whispered about, for a reason I’ll address in a moment. This naturally, has led to Seawolf’s erroneous assumption that she’s somehow above reproach, and comfortably below the visibility of the community’s social radar, but this belief, like most of the ones that Ruth holds dear, is starting to show signs of rapidly advancing attrition.

What Seawolf fails to realize, is that the emotion of fear is stereotypically underpinned by the sub-emotion of hate- either it’s the hatred of consequences that keeps people in check, or hating the conceptual reality that regardless of what actions you undertake, you can’t do anything to keep the fear at bay. This fear, is both the fuel and the tool that Seawolf exploits to keep her detractors at bay, and even I will admit, she’s got quite the knack for dispensing it.

However, it’s not because she possesses cunning, or a feral intellect, it’s because those on the receiving end of her wrath, believe her to be mentally unwell, or as one of her Facebook-based vendettas recently told me; “I think she’s crazier than a s**thouse rat on crack, and I’ve got kids to worry about.”

Now, this is not to say that Seawolf herself would ever do anything violent, but if one reads the comments posted on her social media victim statements, she does have a few in her only-one-book club, who seem more than eager to dispense their own form of vengeful vigilantism, as noted in an earlier blogvella: of mine:So, it’s not Ruth’s being correct, pr the strength of her assertions that keeps the people of my town silent, it’s their collective concern that one day, they’re going to wake up one day with the allegorical head of Christ in their bed, as if they were starring in the TBN remake of the Godfather. Let us not all forget though, that when it comes to who the true casualty of cruel fate is, it’s always going to be Seawolf hands down, who as we all know by how, is blameless for all that happens to her.

But, here’s the best bit about hatred-driven fear, Ruth- it galvanizes people to bide their time, waiting for cracks in your armor to appear. It eventually inspires them, to rise up as one great overpowering mass, and even more so, when they sense metaphorical blood in the water. When the time comes for your long-overdue fall, its all on you, nobody else. And all the Facebook posts in the world won’t save you from the social shunning you’ve been earning in installments, since only your mythical God knows when.

That’s the flaw of self-invented drama Ruth- in the end, it’s akin to tying an engine block around your neck, as you go searching for refuge within the Marianas Trench of your own hubris.

Speaking of which…

Seawolf, who fancies herself a community organizer, when she’s not organizing faux outrage targeting her own community, also currently oversees a Facebook page known as “Silver City Reviews, Experiences & Recommendations” the description of which, is as follows:

“ This is a page set up specifically for people to review local and surrounding cities, and online sites & companies, stores, products, restaurants etc. Please share your experiences with us whether they be good or bad. Members are now also allowed to ask for recommendations for specific items, foods, doctors, hair stylists etc. Businesses are allowed to advertise their hours, menu’s, prices, specials, etc BUT only once a month!

Once members try the place out they can then post a review, experience or recommendation. Please refrain from any vulgar language and please be aware that once you post whether it be negative or positive you open yourself up to diverse kinds of feedback and opinions. Also please keep in mind that we will not always agree! Please agree to disagree in a respectful way with no harassment or accusations to the person posting. We all will never have the same personal experience for a place. That’s what this page is for…..to voice “your” personal experience.

Any post containing nudity or vulgar/curse words will automatically be deleted:) Thank you all for keeping this an informative site. Members who have Admins blocked will be removed from the group.”

On the surface, this reads as a useful resource where one can find the necessities often difficult to find in such a small town, but when I first encountered Ruth, my experience was strikingly different. Let me provide some context, by quoting from my first screed concerning her, and the control freak complex, she fails to masquerade as communal concern:

“My initial quest for practical storage eventually led me to discover a page named “Grant County Goodies”, and it didn’t take long for me to discover that one of the page overseers was yet again, another pretentious quasi-Christian Trump supporter whose attitude was disturbingly similar to the person who had cast me out for experiencing my opinion previously.

And in an action that was not too surprising, this individual as well, when not boring the group with their arbitrary rants, was also posting content that went directly against the rules of the page that they themselves violated consistently. Sort of a “do as I say, not as I do” type of situation. This particular hypocrisy, in regards to word and deed, has also been alleged to be blighting yet another FB page that they run, that being “Silver City Reviews, Experiences & Recommendations”, which is supposed to be for the promotion of the local businesses in Silver City, but has sadly found itself at times, serving as a soapbox for this person to air their at times, allegedly skewed take on Reality.

When I look at it with a cynical eye, it’s almost as if Joel Osteen and Michelle Bachman had a baby, and as a christening gift, decided to bequeath an Empire upon it, whose legacy is founded in Facebook-disseminated ignorance.

Interestingly, when I was casually talking to one of my doctors about the GCG page and how I had found myself banned from it, they not only named the same admin who I had my issue with, they added: “Oh, that cow bans so many people from her bulls**t page for disagreeing with her, she might as well be Twitter.” However, while that was amusing, I forgot to mention one small detail: when I was discussing the page, I never mentioned her name.  At all. They just knew who it was when all I had said was: “I got booted off by some cowardly hypocritical bi**h””

And this, my loyal readers, was back in 2020, long before I had ever taken the first of several deep dives into what would be the swiftest of delusional slipstreams. And I can assure you, she hasn’t gotten any better, since she first crossed my path, as my previous scrawls have sadly confirmed beyond any reasonable form of doubt.

If Seawolf’s asinine antics were simply limited to nothing more than reaffirming as to why organized religion is thankfully dying on its proverbial vine, I would probably have overlooked them, if for no other reason than the fact that such activity is rarely self-sustaining. But Seawolf is that scarcest of conversational commodities that make writers such as myself, joyous beyond words, for thanks to an inability to keep her puerile proclivities under wraps for more than five minutes at a time, the jokes and observations to be made, literally write themselves.  

Especially when Seawolf is so magnanimous about providing the stones to smash the walls of her glass house. Say what you will about th8s hateful harridan, but at least she occasionally does think of others needs, even if she spends an inordinate amount of time whining about her own.

As I noted in the past snippet that I posted above, Seawolf’s personal approach t=o her social media infestation is “sort of a “do as I say, not as I do” type of state of affairs, and nowhere is this more obvious than in the rules that she posts, and yet, does not follow herself:In case you can’t read this grammatically flawed screenshot of the SCRE&E page, it states; 

“AS OF TODAY!!

Everyone is welcome to post your Personal Review, Experience, or Recommendation IF
1. IT IS TRUE.
2, ONLY AFTER YOU HAVE SPOKEN TO A MANAGER IN REGARDS TO YOUR SITUATION AND THEY HAVE REFUSED TO HELP WILL WE ALLOW A REVIEW TO BE POSTED THAT HAS A NEGATIVE CONNOTATION!
3. ANYONE FOUND TO BE POSTING UNTRUE STATEMENTS OR PICTURES WILL BE IMMEDIATELY REMOIVED FROM THE GROUP!

Lastly anyone removed from the group who retaliates by sending threatening messages to a person posting, commenting or Admin will be reported to our local Police Department., Thank You.

The First Amendment allows us to speak our mind and stand up for what we believe in. However the limits of free speech are rooted in the principle that we’re not allowed to harm others to get what we want.
That’s why we’re not allowed to use to speech [Great grammar, Ruth.]  for force, fraud, or defamation.

Also, this page is not enforced by a Governmental Entity, you’re free to leave at will.”

Before I shred this pile of overly smug sanctimoniousness, into the largest of hypocritical Cobb salads, I’d like to offer up my gratitude to whatever God of Writing placed it on my plate to enjoy, (looking at you, Hunter S. Thompson) and I swear by all that is unholy, I will not let this bounty go to waste. Unlike Ruth’s public education, and that spoiled cabbage she calls a brain.

Ironic self-ownership may not be a singularly specific trait whereas Seawolf is concerned, but I swear to her faux God, no one I know, does it half as well as she does.

This list of rules, other than being irrelevant, as Seawolf will ban people left and right on a whim for simply disagreeing with her, and that, regardless of the civility level involved, is also duplicitous as f**k, given her well-established track record for slander, threats, and the retelling of events so deliberately cherry-picked as to the actuality of what happened, she might as well be working the salad bar at a Sweet Tomatoes.

Like all good things that are about to commence, I’ll start at the beginning, and work out from there..

““IF IT IS TRUE”: This standard, brought to you by the very same person that accused Lady GaGa of being affiliated with, and I quote; “Satanic Worship!  Sacrifice! Blood sacrifice! Pedophilia! Hurting Children!” A shocking list of charges, which every major news organization on Earth, both Liberal and conservative, somehow missed. But I’m ever so sorry to interrupt you Ruth, as you were talking about the “Truth”.

“ONLY AFTER YOU HAVE SPOKEN TO A MANAGER…” says the woman who after talking to a manager, defamed Sunshine Coffee on the basis of an eventually rectified banking error anyway, and whom without talking to a manager at all, defamed what many have assumed to be Chaos Sandwich Shop, after a simple mistake caused Christzilla here, to receive the wrong sandwich order. There’s also another business that she’s gone after lately, for no logical reason at all, but I’ll be discussing that a tad bit further on down the road.

“ANYONE FOUND TO BE POSTING UNTRUE STATEMENTS OR PICTURES WILL BE IMMEDIATELY REMOIVED FROM THE GROUP!” Unless of course, you’re a page administrator as Ruth happens to be, and find it’s easier to ban people after they point out the stench of deceit that encircles you, as it were the emanating rot of what I can only assume, passes as your soul.

Now, all of this is the standard Seawolf subterfuge that we’ve come to expect from the most cravenly of Christian cows such as Ruth, but it’s her take on the First Amendment, that really displays the depth of her deceitfulness, if not her sense of entitlement to break the rules she deems mandatory. For while she postulates that; “the limits of free speech are rooted in the principle that we’re not allowed to harm others to get what we want. That’s why we’re not allowed to use to speech for force, fraud, or defamation”.

And yet, Seawolf does at least two of those three things, with such scheduled regularity, that Amtrak could use it as a hypothetical model to run its train service. When it comes to the First Amendment, it’s safe to say that Seawolf not only shows the same firm grip on it’s underlying construct that she has on the evidence that will one day convict Lady GaGa, she also manages to add an entirely unrelated analogical connection as well, which as any conservative pundit proves almost daily, is what the best of unaware idiots strives for:I’m not sure if any of you would agree with me, but in the end, you just have to admire Seawolf’s ability to take two disparate topics, on which she is willingly ignorant, and yet, using nothing save the sheer determination of her inherent density, manages to combine the two, into an as yet unclassified element of pure inanity. Since I’m aware that most of you don’t speak jabbering jackass fluently, I’ll do my best to translate this dumber than f**k query of hers into the common vernacular, if at all possible.

So… Seawolf, who bans detractors left and right from her social media fiefdoms, and who has publicly stated that while she believes that private businesses can enforce mask mandates, while simultaneously  bitching that they shouldn’t be allowed to treat anti-mashers “differently” or exclude them, has just seriously suggested that being booted off social media platforms for disseminating hate speech, false information, and maniacal conspiracy theories, is akin to the consequences of a deadly pandemic.

Shocking that this Rocky-Rhodes scholar who’s openly expressed anti-masking views and refereed to vaccine cards as “the Mark of the Beast”, allegedly came down with COVID, isn’t it?

I for one, never saw that eventuality coming, let me tell you. But I have to call things as I see them, and when you’re dealing with a thick wench even half as dumb as Seawolf seemingly presents herself to be, your explanations have to be as simple as they are, so here goes: When the two situations are compared side by side, and in equal light, it’s clear that one has the potential to kills a person’s over-imagined ego, and the other… ACTUALLY F**KING KILLS PEOPLE, YOU DIMWIITED DUMBF**K…

Imagine that. A concise elucidation for Ruth that didn’t require hand puppets resembling Jesus. Will wonders never cease? They may in time, but when it comes to missing the point as she beats a dead horse into dust, Seawolf’s lack of understanding as to how the world works, certainly never will:

To be fair, Seawolf accidentally does make a good point here, as terrorist groups have managed to weaponize the Internet as a tool for recruitment and the dissemination of propaganda, but she literally neuters it when she brings the “Commies” in as a second-string villain, as she deliberately ignores the fact that given the events of January Sixth, we could say the same thing about the GOP..

Interestingly though, she unintentionally on purpose, overlooks the reality of what she speaks about here as well- Trump not only had the Press Corp at his beck and call, but scores of sycophants spreading his message unabated, and if he had so wanted at that point, could have launched his sure-to-fail; “Truth” social platform site far earlier, to stay one step ahead of what he and Ruth wrongly conclude, was censorship.   

However, I do like Seawolf’s innovative solution that she cut and pasted here, for the non-existent problem at hand, that being; “Th church must PRAY”, because the very act of doing so, has worked out so well as a viable resolution for every other issue that the human race currently faces. Call me crazy, but something tells me that restoring the Twitter account of a morally perverse demagogue, isn’t going to be occupying a top slot on mythical God’s “to-do” list anytime soon.

But then again, your original source did spell “PRAY” in all-caps, so maybe, just maybe, your ever so imaginary deity, might get off his non-existent ass, and do something about it. Roll the dice, kids- what have you got to lose? Nevertheless, Seawolf wasn’t done exposing her imbecility just yet, and went into full End of Days mode instead, posting this paranoiac wet dream for all of us to enjoy:

All jokes aside, I myself, would pray for a media blackout, as I’m sick to death of hearing the mewling masses like Seawolf complain endlessly about events that have not, will not, and could never happen, unless of course, a fascism-supporting political party that recently burned books in Tennessee., and who tried to overthrow democracy by violence, ever found itself sitting in a position of supreme power, but what are the odds of that… you know… happening again?

Pretty good actually, considering that when Parler’s temporary exile from the World Wide Web-came in January 2021, it had a user base estimated at 15M, Unsurprisingly, the majority of these were alleged to be, based on the site’s posted content, Donald Trump supporters, conservatives, conspiracy theorists, and far-right extremists, some of whom had either found themselves expelled from conventional social networks, or were pugnaciously opposed to the rules and regulations said networks enforced.  

Standardized Parler content ran, as a rule, along the lines of debunked conspiracy theories such as the ones that followers of QAnon promote, antisemitism naturally, along with a smattering of racist tropes, as well as the “phobias” popular among amateur Neo-Nazis: be they xenophobic, homophobic, or Islamophobic. And don’t you worry, my chapped hands incels, Parler had enough misogyny on their site to make even perpetual virgins kike you, feel as if they were at their weekly RPG game, too.

You know. The type of content that only a true Christian like Ruth, could lovingly appreciate.

When information surfaced that Parler was used to coordinate the January Sixth insurrection, several companies such as Apple and Google, denied it access to their services, going offline when Amazon (late to the party of good as always) canceled its hosting services. Sadly, Parler resumed service on February 15, 2021, after moving domain registration to one owned by an American domain registrar and web hosting company, known as Epik.

On a side note, Epik is notorious for providing services to websites that host far-right, neo-Nazi, and other extremist content. It has been labelled as a anchorage for the far-right, due to its disposition to provide services to those websites that have been excluded from other Internet service providers. I won’t speak for you, but that doesn’t sound disturbing ta all, now does it?

No wonder Ruth feels allegedly at home there. It’s literally a conspiracy theory book club, but without the hassle of actually learning anything that’s fact-based. As to MeWe, the other site she refenced, it too, saw an upswing in popularity after Trump supporters started searching for an echo chamber wallpapered in ignorance, Unlike Parler however, MeWe wasn’t originated to be a platform for conservatives. It just turned into one, and greeted them with open access.

The alternative-reality surge for the platform came about after mainstream social media, started cracking down on the proliferation of vaccine misinformation. Many different types of conspiracy theorists, such as the anti-vaxxers, call the site home as it were, because if you’re going to a f**king moron, you might as well do so, with like-minded company. But there’s an unexpected twist: MeWe does have a large number of users who aren’t conservative.

Unlike the politically incoherent vibe mired within the swamp of Parler, MeWe hosts several different groups, ranging from music and art aficionados to animal lovers, and even some Green party activities, as well. However, the most active users on the site, much like the ones to be discovered within the mainstream platforms as well, appear to be the conservative fringe, who since the 2020 election, see it as an alternative to Facebook.

Think of it as Parler Lite, with half the calories, but all the tastelessness. Regardless, both of these companies are trudging along, despite Seawolf’s fatalistically stupid belief that the “Left” owns all the social media outlasts to be found; And once again, Ruth- if your faux God is really in control of all, then why are you worried in the first place? Just say a prayer to your sky-residing sociopath, and I’m sure, he’ll take out all of those lawless liberals your little Christian heart despises so much.

There’s an old maxim that says; “There’s nothing more dangerous than a wounded animal”, but this in and of itself, is not entirely true, for the most dangerous animal is, and I will happily quote Dora the Explorer here; “A healthy animal, for starters”, which when given serious thought, makes a lot more sense. I’d rather face an angry elephant with a limp, than one in fine form, any day of the week.

Fortunately for us, when Seawolf is wounded, or even when she’s in fine form, the best that she can do, is throw up on herself, and then, hope that her intended victim takes pity on her, as this post highlights:
Once more, Seawolf takes two entirely separate talking points, and crams them into her shriek-hole, as if she were a toddler going at a birthday cake. As I noted above, Parler wasn’t “banned” for setting its own rules, it was dropped by private companies after it was revealed that its platform had been used in an attempt to OVERTURN AMERICAN DEMOCRACY, which as a supposed American yourself, should be the thing that upsets you more, but obviously doesn’t, because you’re in a f**king cult of personality

A descriptive that, regardless of whether it’s Jesus or Donald Trump she’s been pleasuring herself to in the wee hours of the night, still applies. And as for Seawolf unironically slurring others who point this factoid out correctly as hypocrites? Well, it just serves as definitive proof to what my late Oma was fond of saying; “Whenever it’s appropriate, try not to talk about yourself at length; for others will do it for you the moment you depart.”.”

Every time Seawolf posts one of these asinine conclusions of hers, all I can think of,is that her Facebook page is where her sense of hypocrisy, personal victimization, arrogance, willful stupidity, and, paranoia, meet up for coffee and compare notes..

Every time Seawolf posts one of these asinine conclusions of hers, all I can think of, is that her Facebook page is where her sense of hypocrisy, personal victimization, arrogance, willful stupidity, and, paranoia, meet up for coffee and compare notes. Speaking of which, I can only hope their assemblage of such, is far better organized, unlike this mentally deficient tripe:

Yet again, our Child of God here, cuts and pastes another reference to websites (one being misspelled) that Jesus would n=most certainly, not approve of, due to their dredge of humanity content, and once more, alludes to an unnamed and insidious cabal, hell-bent on stopping free speech as we know it, despite the GQP literally attempting to do the same thing where books of all genres are concerned.

They say; “The South will rise again”, and maybe one day it will, but unfortunately, it won’t be in the areas where literacy and individual IQ points are under consideration that is, as the lack of proper grammar, spelling, and comprehension of what year we’re all currently residing in, as this one photo so clearly depicts. It also concurrently shows what happens when an orchard full of family trees, has no definable branches, but that’s a topic for discussion at some other point in time, I feel..

As to Seawolf’s so-called point regarding the projected shut -down of alternative social media, I’m not entirely sure just why neo-cons have this belief that all social media is owned by the Left, despite their ability to consistently, if not freely, post continual complaints whining about their being censored on all the mainstream platforms, but its not as if faux fatalists like Ruth, do the research necessary to back up their dystopian fantasies to begin with..

And please correct me if I’m asking a rude question here, but what exactly does Jesus have to do with any aspect of social media?

The last time I checked, there was no platform known as “Christbook”, and even if there was, the odds are fairly good that modern-day Christians such as Seawolf, wouldn’t follow any of its postings to begin with, given the fact that they don’t even do that with the collection of fairy-tales it would be based on, so maybe, they should just keep their sociopathic sugar-daddy out of the national conversation, for now, at least.  

Now, as I’ve noted in previous screeds, Seawolf aligns herself quite frequently, with opinions and activities that her so-called Faith wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole, if she did indeed, truly believe in its tenets. She’s publicly posted that the insurrection of January Sixth was actually the work of outside agitators, not Trump loyalists, as has been proven, and inferred that people engaged in justified remonstrations, such as the ones that addressed the topic of police brutality, are the real criminals.

 This double standard, a common tool to be found nesting within Seawolf’s temper tantrum toolbox, led to her gleefully posting this unintentionally hilarious act of self-ownership:

I can only wonder, as one must, just how much of this draconian overreach against civil protest Seawolf feels should be applied to her fellow Trump cultists who subverted the process of American democracy for a few abominably dark hours on that fatefully sad day in our nation’s history, knowing full well just how dedicated she is to the concepts of both Truth and the Rule of Law.

Oh wait. My bad, I forgot. These rules obviously don’t apply when it comes to metering out earned justice to counterfeit American Christian Patriots, as they are to be used only against those who believe that equality under the law applies to everyone, regardless of skin color, or sexual identity. Silly me. For a moment, I foolishly disremembered where Ruth’s head is at most days- that being, so far up her own ass, that she can use her belly button as a viewing port.   

Observing Seawolf in her native habitat, its become quite clear that she views the world entire, as nothing more than a vast repository of fear, which is somewhat strange, considering how often she insists that as a daughter of God, she fears not a thing. I can only imagine however, how terrifying it must be for Ruth on a day to day basis, given statements like this, where she, once again, mixes up a batch of unasked for mewling margaritas, and serves them up with a twist of Trumpism, and a chaser of Heaven’s Gate rotgut:.I’ve said it before, and sadly, I must now say it again, but with all due curiosity; WHAT, IN THE ACTUAL F**K, IS WRONG WITH YOU, LADY?!? I don’t wish to make light of those truly suffering from the scourge of mental illness, but if there ever was a brain deserving of an electro-shock gift certificate, yours would be the first one I’d recommend for the VIP weekend package.

Normally, I would call this whole exchange insane, but given how nuts it actually is, I’m almost wondering if a new descriptive should be crafted in order to capture the purest essence of a mental defect that at this point, may require a medication regimen that’s only been used to treat the truly rabid and the wholly Republican. But then again, I repeat myself.  

So, in the interest of clarification, let’s recap her salient talking points: The all-powerful, all-knowing God can’t hear you with a mask on, disgraced former President Donald Trump did win reelection, despite the reality that he did not, it’s her “speaking her mind” that makes people call Ruth a drama queen, and not because what she says is so far gone, it might as well be aboard the Voyager spacecraft,

Fauci, masks, and Dominion voting machines are  frauds, despite no corroborating evidence being provided proving that shows they are, current and duly-elected USP Biden and VP Harris are imposters, and Trump is taking his rightful place… at some point, I guess, since the only place he’s currently inhabiting 24/7, is his fear of going to prison.

There’s also a personal admission that she’s in a cult, a notation that God gets to to be the one that nags us last, stating that Satan is up to his old tricks, sowing the very qualities that Ruth possesses and proudly displays on an almost hourly basis, and a plea that her fellow humans see with clear eyes, what is “happening” in our country, during these so-called last hours..

Yessiree Bob. This all seems quite rational, doesn’t it? And Seawolf’s untenable public position that it’s everyone she comes into contact with, who’s actually the problem, and not her? Classic. Always a classic. I do hope she’s careful with this overplayed gambit of hers though, as its so old and brittle, it could be classified as an irreplaceable antique. But fear not the impending darkness yet to come, my loyal readers, fpor Seawolf has some advice for us negative Nancys, and it is this:Remember what I said earlier above? “Ironic self-ownership may not be a singularly specific trait whereas Seawolf is concerned, but I swear to her faux God, no one I know, does it half as well as she does”, and If I may add a wry notation; “with quite the frequency she does, either.” Seriously. When is Seawolf not offended by something, if not everything, that doesn’t align within the parameters of her f**ked-up view in regards to what the world should be?

We all have some form of personal index that causes us some form of grief, ranging from mild to severe annoyance, but at worst, it’s supposed to be a laundry list, not a 27-volume set of the Encyclopedic Bitchtannica, as Seawolf has so willingly composed inside that rotten cabbage she calls a brain. Whether the subject at hand requires her to think about others, or to think about the consequences of her actions in relation to the same, the only thing that Seawolf ever truly devotes marginal thought to, is herself, and herself alone.

This opinion of mine, verified by Seawolf’s numerous online postings describing a litany of things that offend her, may have a semblance of validity on some level, but the majority, and I say this with supreme confidence, are at best, Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs. An olive short of a pizza. Away with the fairies. Playing Canasta without a working deck. A few bricks short of a load. Nuttier than a ten-dollar pecan pie.

In essence, crazier than a Christian Conservative at a Hobby Lobby clearance sale, but without the joy of watching someone who deserves it, getting garroted with Washi tape. And how does Seawolf consider those who correctly chide her for promoting widely discredited theories so implausible that even the most ardent of Scientologists think her Thetans would benefit from psychoanalysis?  

Ladies and assorted gentleman, I present you with this:Keeping in mind that Seawolf’s own flesh and blood called her a cultist, and her response in kind, so-called, was to, and I quote directly; “rebuke her”, as if her familial were some form of demon, not only speaks volumes about Ruth’s relationship with reality, it also strengthens my supposition that her dedication to the lunatic fringe, is far stronger than the societal bonds one normally applies to their family and friends.

I’ve often held firm to the credo that like your friends, you can choose who your family is, but JFC, I’d like to think that my pool of potential candidates for the positions needing to be filled, wouldn’t make the family Manson come off as if they were the Brady Bunch.

As seen within the framework of her fearfully ignorant world view, Seawolf has taken offense at literally everything under the sun, ranging from being accidentally overcharged for coffee, to the reality of her own hypocrisy being called out repeatedly, and it’s a pile of inanity that only seems to be increasing in size, as time marches on. And even when Seawolf does call attention to a serious topic worth discussing, she still manages to make it tie in with the other non-issues she’s conflated into Battle Royales.

Case in point:The reason why “they” don’t go door to door Ruth, is because that’s not how the Law, or even criminal investigations into supposed crimes, occurs. For someone who’s compared being politely asked to shelter in place as nothing less than Nazism, I’d assume you would have a grasp on that, but as it is with most issues that you address concern over, as usual, you have not the simplest of f**king insights as to how the inside mechanism actually works

And before you feign offense at this assessment, Ruth, let’s all just take a minute to remember that the lecherously perverted President you still support, once did this, in regards to the procurer for a well-known pedophile who was at one point, a close associate to Seawolf’s masturbatory mango man-crush:

Irrespective of who you are, what your believe, or even what your educational or social status level may be, I’m still confident that even off the cuff, you could have come up with a much more measured and sane response to a reporter’s valid question, then by wishing the assistant to an avowed pederast,  the best of luck in relation to their long overdue meal of justice being served up ice-cold.  

Seriously. Who the f**k does that? Just a person with a long history of sexually deviant actions and utterances, would be my guess. Along with the fact that Trump has been connected, either personally or professionally, to no less than five alleged pedophiles, that being Jefferey Epstein, John Casablancas, Tevfik Arif, George Nader, and Roy Cohn, his administrations track record for prosecuting sex traffickers, (coincidentally, I’m sure) is significantly lower than the one set by his predecessor, Barrack Obama.

This, according to a report from the Transactional Records Access Clearinghouse, based at Syracuse University, After climbing steadily under President Barack Obama, the number of federal prosecutions against child sex traffickers dropped after Trump took the reins of power, going from a peak of 277 in the year 2016, to a low of 180, in 2020.

Shocking to think that that a man of virtue such as Trump, who’s made lewdly inappropriate comments about his own daughter for years, and who pays porn stars for sex, wouldn’t have the same Impact on the sex trade, isn’t it? I guess the theory put forth by QAnon and its followers, about his being recruited by military generals to run for president in order to break up a cabal of Satan-worshiping pedophiles, might not in the end, hold any water, after all.

Imagine that.

But I’m sure Seawolf was gong to address this flaw in her logic, right after she gets to the bottom of why hot dogs come in packs of 10, and their respective buns, come in lacks of 8. I’ve always been curious about this myself, so I did some basic research, and discovered that, according to the National Hot Dog Sausage Council, or the NHDSC for short; “Sandwich rolls, or hot dog buns, most often come eight to the pack because the buns are baked in clusters of four in pans designed to hold eight rolls.”

So, not only is there a council in charge of this sort of stuff, I’m guessing I now have to apologize to the Lithuanian community at large, for my years of claiming that they were behind it all along.

See? I’m mature enough that I can admit when I’m wrong, unlike Seawolf, who seemingly has made both a cottage industry and a dedicated hobby out of her being consistently so. Let’s be fair- even a broken clock can manage to be right at least twice a day, so it’s not like Seawolf deliberately picks fights based on her forcibly faulty convictions r just to have something to be mad about, right?

Well, let me just say now to all within reac,h that;

Sure, as a self-declared Christian, Seawolf could expend her energy on actions that by their very existence, would help a wide and deserving swath of the populace, but to be fair, engaging in hypocrisy and allegedly slandering those who disagree with her, really does eat up a great deal of her free time.

Sure, as a self-declared Christian, Seawolf could expend her energy on actions that by their very existence, would help a wide and deserving swath of the populace, but to be fair, engaging in hypocrisy and allegedly slandering those who disagree with her, really does eat up a great deal of her free time.

In her view, and this I can only assume from observing, well… everything she does, a cartoon series, clearly aimed at an adult viewership, was apparently worthy of a histrionic harangue that once again, she had to cut and paste, because when it comes to thinking for herself, Seawolf’s train of thought, is just as useless as vocal lessons were, to Milli Vanilli.

And no, I’m not apologizing for that reference. Once written, it stays in the act forever.

So, what animated collection of heart-warming and truly comforting, tales that were composed specifically to instill societal values into people via the construct of a morality tale, drew Seawolf’s ire? That would be no less than the iconic Grimm’s Fairy Tales, of course!  But my descriptive pales in relation to the posted petulance itself, so here for your perusal, is yet another sampling of how Seawolf spends her time, when she’s not obsessing over never being elected Prom Queen:

On the surface, this series sounds traumatizing as hell, but here’s the rub: the stories in their original form, contained a stepmother cooking her stepson into a stew, and making her unsuspecting husband eat it, a girl who has no hands, because her father cuts them off, a woman who gets thrown into a barrel full of nails, an evil queen who is forced to wear burning hot iron shoes, and dance until she falls dead upon the ground, and a mass-murdering dwarf, before modern culture turned them into Disneyesque classics.

And in an unforeseen twist, the initial tome featured an unsanitized version of “Rapunzel,” where our heroine finds herself knocked up by her rescuing prince, after the two spend many days together, having in-depth discussions concerning what I can only assume was in regards to proper hair care and tower maintenance… or so I’ve heard.

Therefore, the ‘shock’ displayed by Christians regarding the true nature of these stories, is laughable at nest, considering the Brothers Grimm first edition of such, dates back to December of 1812. Despite the fact that each episode begins with a warning as to the content contained within, and which was dismissively marginalized by Ruth’s source as ineffective, to be fair, it is portrayed more comically than graphically, but is still relatively dark, nonetheless,

But when compared to the book of Bronze-age fairy-tales that Seawolf claims is the cornerstone of her life, are they really as evil as Rith’s exit buddy for the Rapture, makes them out to be? In a few words, that singular answer is a most empathic “No, they are not”, although their combined attempts at deflecting the disingenuousness of their alleged offense, is quite impressive., as is are the faux histrionics the writer of this tripe manages to emote from inside the security of her ivory doublewide.

I particularly enjoy how even though she claims to be disgusted at the series content, she still watched it all, in order to “warn” us all about stories that have been in consistent circulation for over 200 years, and amazingly has yet to lead to a child being emotionally scarred for life, unlike the ones Ruth forced into her kids craniums that make them believe they’d be doing an eternal breaststroke in a swimming pool full of fire, if they didn’t follow an archaic list of ten arbitrarily enforced rules.

In the end, which disseminated work has proven far more destructive to Mankind overall? The book where children eat a house of candy and burn a witch, or the book that “justifies” discrimination against the LGBTQ community, reduces women to being no more than birthing vessels, condones rape and incest under the right conditions, and has been one of the most consistent wellsprings for international and regional conflicts for centuries?

Granted, the imagery presented on screen by series creator Netflix, is at times, a tad bit unsettling, but as I and the writer of this idiocy noted, it is addressed beforehand, so fair warning, and all that, However, as graphic as her list of things she’s seemingly baffled by is, let’s take a moment to list the scores of true abominators that are catalogued in the so-called Good Book that as soon as her kids could read, was put into their hands as well as their heads.

IIn no particular order, the Bible contains the following atrocities, several of which, the writer of this op-ed expressed sneer horror at seeing in the Grimm series, but as is true with most cafeteria Christians these days, moral offense all depends on the perspective you’re able to exploit, be it victim or enabler, but I have noticed, that when it comes to the inception of foisted horrors their mythical God says are cool, they don’t so much as bat an eye, or even question their implementation..

Examples of this mental hopscotch in action?; Well, as a start, Herod is killed by an angel for dishonoring God, and subsequently, being eaten by worms, Ananias and Sapphira struck dead because they lied to the Holy Spirit, the apostle Paul i stoned, shipwrecked, whipped, and beaten numerous times, his fellow believers are also beaten, flogged, tortured, and literally sawed in half.

God drowns the world entire in what may just be the ultimate Karen moment, smites Sodom and Gomorrah from the face of the Earth, an innocent woman is forced to marry her rapist, encouraged acts of Genocide, such as the Israelites being slaughtered by the Levites, John the Baptist, finds himself beheaded, mentions of sodomy, rape, and the murder s of Abel and the firstborn, to boot.

In addition, a royal concubine is dismembered, as is a disrespectful slave, Jephthah honors God by sacrificing his daughter, multiple depictions of sexual violence against women, angels pour out bowls of God’s wrath onto the earth causing suffering among its people, turn the seas as red as the blood of a corpse, thereby killing everything that lives in it, ending with the sun scorching all the remaining people who don’t repent, and I won’t even begin to describe the gruesomeness of the act of crucifixion.

But whatever you do, make sure to keep your kids away from the Tele-Satan when they return home from the Sunday school where they’ll eventually learn all this stuff, as you don’t want them to be desensitized, and all that Jesus jazz. I swear to mythical God, if these people make it any easier for me to mock them, I just may have to buy them something nice, to show the depth of my appreciation.

Perhaps I could buy them a second book for their home, but since this this one would be full of actual facts, and devoid of pop-ups, the odds are probably good that much like the first book that they claim to follow but obviously don’t, it may just get skimmed for the highlights, and then, find itself abandoned on their bedside table to act as an unintentional drink coaster.

Speaking of drinks, I could really use right about now, as dealing with Seawolf’s continuing hysterical hubris, literally makes me want to replace most of my blood with tequila, which on the upside, might be somewhat of a boon, in regards to better understanding her alleged thought process. I mean… everyone has the right to be a goddamn idiot, but boy oh boy, has she been abusing the privilege, or what?

So, on that note, let’s take yet another break, and when I come back, I’ll introduce you to the seemingly unethical eunuch that enables Ruth, by ignoring her territorial transgressions, chat with a few members of her not-a-fan-in-the-slightest-club, and dive even deeper into her past history of Releasing the Karen upon my local community, by maltreating the good-willed nature of the people who reside within it.

“I have a practical suggestion for all you Drama Queens… sell your crown, and use the money to get some much-needed counseling.” – Anonymous

 


The Kook of Ruth Pe 1. (A Study in Karen)

“Maybe we are entering a new era in which bullying and the intimidation of other people are at last consigned to their rightful place alongside racism, hatemongering, drunk driving, littering, spitting in public, and passing gas at parties.” – Frank E. Peretti

Greetings, Bitchiteers!

Is today not a wonderful day? The birds are singing, the sun is shining, the winter air is cold and crisp as if it were a Stephen Fry retort, and even the Right-wing wackadoos I write about seem to be in good spirits this morning. I haven’t checked, but something in my gut tells me that either there was a school shotting that they think that they can finally blame on BLM, or maybe perhaps, they’re feeling elated that Matt Gaetz finally has a girlfriend who can attend an “R” rated movie without his compulsory presence.

Who knows? The day itself is rife with possibilities, whether they be absurdist, or not.

However, the screed of the moment is centered on an ever so favored chew=toy of mine, a person who succinctly answers the question of what happens when a person who seriously believes that mythical God communicates via Walmart receipts, is granted internet access, despite their allegedly urgent need for an obviously long-overdue mental health evaluation.

This state of affairs, puzzlingly being currently ignored by those who really shouldn’t leads me to suspect that if she ever devoted herself to a cause outside her previously discussed religious zealotry, which at this moment in time, is precariously teetering on the razor’s edge between her future lodgings being decorated in wallpaper, versus one lined with industrial bubble wrap, it would most likely be this one:

For the uninitiated, the symbolization for a “Karen” is described as: “a white woman perceived as entitled or demanding beyond the scope of what is normal. The term is often portrayed in memes depicting white women who use their privilege to demand their own way.” Or more specifically in this case, as someone who plays the victim so much that I’m genuinely surprised that CBS hasn’t created a CSI spin-off named after her, modeled after the classic “V” miniseries villainess, “Diana”.

Granted, while today’s screed subject to be isn’t, in my opinion, nearly as physically attractive, socially charming, intellectually gifted, or culturally interesting, so much as the protagonist so beautifully played by actress Jane Badler is, but she does have some of the far less notable attributes that were so integral to her iconic character, nonetheless.

Traits such as arrogance, short-sightedness, callous manipulation of her alternate reality, and in a plot twist that shocks no one who’s ever had to unfortunately deal with her, the revelation that she is, in fact, nothing less than a giant space lizard wearing an ill-fitting human skin suit.

Obviously, I’m kidding about the whole “nothing less than a giant space lizard wearing a well-tailored human skin suit” assertion, for I’m also fairly confident that if a person takes divine guidance from their Walmart receipts, the odds that they’ve never bought anything that didn’t come off of one of its discount racks, are also pretty good as well.

Speaking of whom this applies to, I could recite the classic aphorism of; “Small town, small mind”, but it still wouldn’t fully explain the vacuous disconnect between reality it truly exists, and how this assemblage of pinhead paranoia assumes it to be. Ironically, this pathetically histrionic harpy, in between her far-too-common public displays of narcissistic martyrdom, also lays claim to being a true Child of God, which one might think, would give them a sense of overconfidence as to how they would choose to face the world entire.

I’ve oft said it before, and mythical God knows I’ll have to say it again, but If Jesus himself was my homeboy, not only would I be picking fights left and right, I’d be eating my congratulatory post-battle campfire S’mores, from inside the conflagration itself, because I would perceive myself to be freaking untouchable. But this person? Literally, they’re akin to a wedge of Velveeta, locked inside a microwave set on high, that’s been abandoned within the confines of Mount Kilauea’s caldera.

In my professional capacity as both a writer and an artist, the concept of possessing a fragile sense of one’s self-worth is nothing new, but JFC, if this craven drama queen’s ego gets any more sensitive, I’m going to have to openly suggest they rent it out to the US Geological Survey on the weekends, just so that the USGS finally gets that additional eye they’ve needed, regarding Mexico’s somewhat worrisome, Popocatépetl volcano.

The upside of this arrangement, is that she wouldn’t have to travel, given her said overblown characteristic, and with the extra cash she’d earn, that giant pair of salad tongs she’s required for quite some time to finally pull her head out of her ass, would finally be affordable.

So, who is this person that I’ve started referring to in my off hours as Silver City’s canonizing Christian Child of cray-cray?  Well, if you’re a regular reader of my pixilated tomes, you already know the answer, and if you’re not, let me introduce you to the mental gimp gift that just keeps on giving;

RUTH DARLENE SEAWOLF!!!

Now, over the last year or so, I’ve had a lot of fun with ol’ Ruth here, and while the majority of it was at her expense, it’s still been a lot of work staying cautiously abreast of the ever increasingly erratic Sisyphean boulder that masquerades as her intellect. When she first wandered into the darkness that is my empire of the Snark as it were, she was content in her way, to espouse asinine views regrading politics, the (at that time) current implementation of mask mandates, and religious hypocrisy so blatant, that even Satan started distancing himself from her.

And who among us can truly blame him? Especially when his reputation is really all that he has bow, since losing his gilded golden boy Donald Trump to the Evangelicals that once, so happily worked in tandem with him. Sure, he might be the essence of all that is evil, but even he, has scruples of a kind, worth defending.

But Ruth? That’s arguably debatable, for since my initial curiosity concerning her comments and actions was tweaked, she’s expanded her song and prance act to include the promotion of debunked conspiracy theories, fomenting groundless claims of being personally persecuted for her thin-as-tissue-paper alleged Christian faith, as well as hurling over-the-top scurrilous slander at those she considers to be her allegorical enemies, be they real, or imaginary.

According to Seawolf and as of yet, only her alone, she has experienced attempted personal coercion, acts of vandalism targeting the businesses she owns, and once hilariously claimed in an act of sheer paranoiac narcissism, that a native and utterly harmless snake discovered living its best life in her back yard, had been placed there deliberately by persons unknown of course, to acquiesce her into silence, because apparently, she fancies herself as the living embodiment of Cleopatra, I guess?.

Despite the reality that the snake itself posed no danger to Seawolf, she bragged about killing it on social media, which leads me to believe that the snake made its own philosophical choice, deciding instead, to commit suicide rather than having to listen to yet another of Seawolf’s histrionic rants regarding how yet again, she was the victim of cruelly deliberate fate.

Given that fact that where I live is an exceptionally small town, and people here are genuinely starved for the free entertainment drama provides, it strikes strange that outside of Seawolf ‘s numerous social media posts claiming being the undeserving subject of such, no one else in my tight-knitted community, has seemingly heard anything in relation to her victimization by the unspecified of pure venomousness.

As to the validity of her martyrdom, the only comfort I can offer is this supportive affirmation;

This is not to say however, that if Seawolf is indeed, being subjected to various illegalities, that this in and of itself is in any way, shape, or form, to be considered even remotely acceptable, but the not to be unexpected downside of crying “WOLF!”: as many times as Seawolf allegedly has, even those nearest and dearest to you are gonna eventually lay down a trail to you front door, by means of prime-cut lamb chops.

As of late, there’s been a growing undercurrent of contempt regarding her arrogantly inane flaws of character that she so freely dispenses as if she were a licensed dealer of sheer bitchiness in my bucolic burg, and if I’m reading between the lines even half-right, I’d suggest that it seems Seawolf is about to become the reluctant lead in a real-life reboot of 1981’s “Wolfen”, Minus the charms of Sybil Danning, who’s  stared in the same years far more cheesy werewolf offering, known as “The Howling”.

Now, while Seawolf’s role in said schlock-fest to be, will most thankfully, not see the inclusion of a three-way werewolf sex scene as seriously written, performed and presented so disturbingly in “The Howling”;

Her metaphorical fall from the last shreds of Grace she still possesses, will resound, within the deepest strata of the community that she’s willingly incensed, if not openly harassed, for years, In a nutshell, Seawolf’s antics and overall unhinged pettiness, as I’ve thoroughly dissected in previous screeds, has inspired both fear and seething hatred, and when the time comes to settle her tab for her doing so, calculating the appropriate size of the anticipated tip, will be the least of her worries.,

Urk. Looking upon this still from that f**ked up scene in the movie, I do find myself to some extent, emotionally divided. On the one paw, copulating with a female werewolf would be akin to having sex with a dog, but on the other paw, a dog IS a man’s best friend, is it not? A small aside- when I wrote this joke, a friend who was reading through the rough draft of it remarked, and I quote: “Well, if a dog is a man’s best friend, and Ruth was one of those werewolf chicks, whoever advised that Weredude to sleep on his stomach, would obviously be his.”

Motherf**king pus-bucket, that is COLD. And I say this as a man who chills his Diet Coke and Ding Dongs inside of his heart. But such is the inadvertent joy that Seawolf helps foster, in between episodes where she wavers twixt self-declared woman of Faith, and the mire realistically seen aspect of applying for future residency in a facility with regulated visiting hours and the most draconian of riles whereas the ownership of overly pointy accoutrements is concerned.

As someone who isn’t a qualified psychiatrist, it would be exceedingly arrogant of me to casually label Seawolf’s public passion plays of petty patheticness as anything more than the attention-seeking antics of a middle-aged Veruca Salt made corpulent flesh, but as a former New Yorker, I can tell you that spotting allegorical crazy from a distance, is something I’ve gotten quite good at over the years. And the proof to be found within this pile of petulant pudding that she might have an errant screw either too loose or too tight, comes from no less than the originator of all of her drama, that being Seawolf herself.

With no due respect, Seawolf tends to export tepid theatrics as if she were a bus full of drag queens fighting over the last eyebrow pencil in existence, and while her eternal performance shows no sign of ever having an upcoming intermission, anytime soon, we should all take some comfort knowing that when left alone with her own thoughts, she’s acutely aware that full credit for being an executive producer on every single episode she inflicts on the undeserving within her sight, is her fault entire.

Granted, Seawolf would never openly acknowledge to ever having even the merest moment of self-reflection vis-à-vis her continuous campaign to be crowned Queen Bitch of the known Universe, but when the only common denominator in all the supposed trials you face just so happens to always be you, even the dullest of lummoxes has to have the occasional flash of personal insight, if I were to be so curt.

If I had a dollar for every accounted time that Seawolf has dragged out her cross and hypocritically nailed herself to it, not only would I have achieved my goal of owning an island made entirely out of Dung Dings, I’d have that domestic staff of Milla Jovovich clones to go along with it, as well  Mentally obese, pitifully paranoid, determinedly disingenuous, and willfully dumber than a sack of drunken urinal cakes, may not be the way for most of us,, but even I, albeit begrudgingly, must admit that our bloviating Baby Ruth, has somehow managed to make that odious niche truly her own

But as usual, I may be] getting ahead of myself. Therefore, I’d suggest for those of you who aren’t familiar with the asinine antics of Silver City’s most relevant example of a what a walking failure of the public education system can look like, I’d suggest that you hit up the Artbitch Archive, and read the following screeds before you continue on, and I’ll just chillax right here until you get back.

In order, I’d recommend: August 2020: Hatertriot Lames Pt.2 (Razz the Ruth) October 2021: Ruth-less Sheeple. (The Divine Profit-see) and finally, October 2022: The Ruth is on Fire. (Oh, The Racists You’ll Know!). Up to speed? Awesome. Let’s get back to the issue at hand- that being, somewhere in my otherwise pastoral hamlet, an arrogantly self-righteous narcissiic harridan slithers among its upstanding citizenry, and in a refreshing change of pace, walks directly on its own tongue, strangling both its credibility, and a community’s empathy for its cravenly cause, as it does so.

And in an additional unintended joy, they’ve also managed to provide proof positive to the concept once voiced by German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche who once said; “God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives: who will wipe this blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we have to invent? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must we ourselves not become gods simply to appear worthy of it?”

Why do I make this reference, you ask? It’s because I Ur find it odd that a person who so ceaselessly brags about walking in step with Christ, manages to represent such a selfishly hateful repudiation of his noble teachings. Ruth’s contributions to Christianity are as relevant as Donald Trumps are to marital fidelity and she goes out of her way to validate this estimation almost every day, and that, most often unbidden, if not unprompted. By way of numerous examples, here’s one of her Faith-based assertions that NM’s current Governor, Michelle Lujan Grisham, promotes… well, you’ll see:

GASP! Do you meant to tell me that she actually believes women she does not know, should have autonomy over their own bodies? What’s next, Ruth? Is she going to dare suggest that women should also be allowed to express an opinion not forced upon her by strangers? The horror of it all.

I’d happily point out that I’ve yet to see Seawolf ever post anything useful regarding the decreasing of abortions through measures that actually work, such as sexual education classes, access to birth control, adoption reform, as well as adequately funding social programs to support new parents and single mothers alike, but why do that, when you can wallow in a pond of your own self-righteous smugness?

As to Seawolf’s certifiable lunacy regarding Grisham assuming “God’s role”, thereby “allowing” unspecified “others to kill anyone not happy with God’s will”, all I can enunciate is this question that at this point, I mutter under my breath at least twice a day… SERIOUSLY. WHAT IN THE F*KING HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU, LADY?!? Drugs? Alcohol? Breathing in spray-paint fumes resulting from your failing to open all the windows in your garage on a consistent basis?  

Whatever in the f**k it is, seek help immediately, because you are fully baked through, my Mistress of Martyrdom. No one, and I repeat, NO ONE, (in this country at least) is purposefully murdering Christians, unless there’s a reincarnated Roman emperor somewhere out there, with not only a spare coliseum in his backyard, but a few hours of free time to kill, and a cadre of hungry pet lions, at his beck and call, as well.

And as an aside Ruth, you can be Christian, and still support a woman’s right to choose, since the Bible in concern to the issue of abortion, SAYS NOTHING ABOUT IT AT ALL. If Christians really cared about the unborn, they’d also be outside fertilization clinics, where thousands of Ova are disposed of daily, but  it would then interfere with their harassment campaign against women utilizing the necessary resources of Planned Parenthood, and mythical Lord knows, they most certainly don’t want that.

Not to mention, if Seawolf is so “pro-life”, then why would she post something like this?

I guess when the zygote is out of the womb, it’s also out of mind? I can only assume she considers murder most heinous, but only when it involves the death of someone who thinks being covered in metaphorical zombie blood, is not that far removed from Reality as the rest of us perceive it, and don’t even get me started on that whole “eat and drink of my body” cracker and wine thing, either.

For the record, the red-hatted twat pictured did not win 250M for his publicly displayed racism, but as I’ve previously described, full accurate disclosure is not one of Seawolf’s stronger personality traits, despite her religious tenets demanding it be so.. If you believe that as a follower JFC, that Kyle Rittenhouse is to be considered laudable, your copy of the Bible, may have come straight from the NRA gift shop, rather than off the printing presses located within the Vatican.

Oh, and by the way? When Rittenhouse murdered two people in cold blood, he was too young to drink. Much less hold a beer, but apparently in Ruth’s eyes, he was more than old enough to be in possession of a deadly weapon he wasn’t properly trained to use, so I can totally see why a modern-day Christer would like him so much, considering how excited they get regarding the sacrifice of innocents in the name of their sociopathic deity.

However, what a lovely example of God’s love Seawolf displays here, by praising the most extreme examples of everything that stands in opposition to it.  Something tells me that if Ruth were just a few years older, she’d commend Ted Bundy as being good with women, and Jeffery Dahmer as a gourmand, worthy of society’s respect for his interesting flavor combinations.

To add some weight to this assessment of mine, let’s review how Seawolf views the possible prosecution of the parents of Michigan school shooter Ethan Crumbley, who not only purchased the weapon that he allegedly used in tandem with other armament that left four of his fellow students dead, and seven others injured, but whom also willingly ignored the obvious signs warning of his murderous intentions to boot:

Man… when Sea-Karen here, decides to deep-dive into the anus of asininity, she does so all the way up to her cankles, doesn’t she? This may come as a surprise to you, oh breeder of all things grating and squall, but when one takes on the mantle of being a parent, certain responsibilities go hand in hand with the title, as well as the “I spawned successfully” bragging rights.

Not only did my parents lock up their liquor cabinet as if it were Fort Knox, they also quite shockingly, didn’t buy me a dangerously accessible weapon as a birthday gift, either. And while I have no children, I’d like to think that of my kid’s school sat down with me in a meeting to discuss my child’s pre-visualized fantasies about killing their fellow classmates, I sure as hell wouldn’t have shrugged it off, just so I could go home and watch FOX News. Weird, that.

If justice is to prevail, the parents of this POS should not only be charged as fully complicit accomplices, they should be turned over to the victim’s families as well, in an act of cost-cutting retribution, as well. I have no idea who actually put in the hours to raise your progeny Ruth, but if the secondary choice for the parenting assist was a pack of rabid wolves, I’d at least be secure in the knowledge that your brood would have a far better set of morals, then the ones you most likely instilled within them.

For instance, let’s peruse yet another of the endless examples of your zealotry fueled hypocrisy, by presenting this rant of yours, whining about how in the middle of an ever-enlarging pandemic, your church was briefly shuttered, which for some as yet unstated reason, somehow prevents the most powerful being in the Universe from corresponding directly with you:

Other than the fact that Seawolf speaks the truth as well as I speak Swahili, the rest of this mewling quim’s contextual take is pure invention as well. First, there’s the out of nowhere claim that our current Governor doesn’t support the police, from a woman who, as we shall see later on, didn’t seemingly care about them either, when they were attacked en masse in our nation’s Capitol, on January Sixth.

Second, for someone who claims to be full of God’s love for others, she doesn’t seem to give a flying f**k about her fellow cafeteria Christians, when she’s asked to be minorly inconvenienced to protect them, either.

Oh no… you can’t go to an archaic and architectural tax dodge and pretend to be pious for an hour and a half” You poor ever so deprived baby of undeserved privilege. But don’t you fret kids, for Ruth is about to stereotypically contradict herself, and in the process of doing so, completely negate her previous point regarding the necessity for a dedicated divination space, and I for one, am more than happy to share her dimwitted disingenuousness with you all:So, Ruth, if the church itself can easily exist outside the four walls, as you put it, then why is yours being temporarily dark, that much of a concern to begin with? If God’s word can travel with you, regardless of destination, then why are you acting as if you’ve been confined to spending a month in Delaware? Unless of course, you’ve realized that you have no idea how to truly communicate with Him outside of his crash pad, and even then, he makes excuses for his routine avoidance of your beguilement.

And if my assumption that God sidesteps her as if she were one of his crazier exes, is even halfway true, then this later posting by Seawolf becomes even more inadvertently hilarious, as in retrospect, her history of personal attacks, alleged slander, and consistent self-pittance, displays a maturity that is far more in line with one who still wears diapers, rather than those who supposedly wear the Gospels on their sleeves:

If you are personally familiar with Seawolf’s track record as just described, this post reads less like an affirmation of her tissue-thin Faith, and more as if she were crafting a personal confession for the benefit of local law enforcement. I wasn’t aware that the collective laundry list of her transgressions were her fulfilling of God’s calling, but then again, maybe that all depends on the “God” that Seawolf so hypocritically follows, if not regularly disappoints.

Normally, this would be the time when I’d counsel God’s self-chosen call girl as it were, to follow her own sanctimonious advice, but to be fair, I doubt that my voice could override the ones already in squalid residence inside her damaged psyche. Not because Seawolf would be unable to follow the thread of my narrative, but due to the sad fact that it’s fairly obvious that she cannot even follow her own.

The way Seawolf bounces around the swampy banks of her own fanatical tales, the more I understand just why I’m starting to regard her as the human analog of a mentally-challenged Right-wing Tigger. Minus the adorability and childlike wonder, of course. I’m dead serious here- if Seawolf ever suffered any form of grievous brain injury, I tend to believe that it would be decades before anyone noticed.

As a rule, I would never mock the burden of being afflicted with a mental illness of any sort, but when it’s so wonderfully mixed with the speculative and arrogant sagacity that one is an unheralded visionary, even I have to admit, the end effect of it all, can be somewhat entertaining, despite the foreshadowing of far worse inanities to come:

I won’t speak for you, but I absolutely love it when a person whose entire political ideology is based on bumper stickers and divination drawn from their slavish worship of a tangerine-tinted Savior, attempt to Edgar Cayce their way back into partisan relevance by disseminating Things to Come prophecies they gleaned from websites that typically feature a Bald Eagle wrapped in the American flag, and clutching a Bible to their proudly puffed-out chest, very much in the same way I’d grasp a box of chilled Ding Dongs.

But let’s be fair here for a moment. Can we seriously expect a woman who sees God every morning in the foam of her latte, to be anything less than epically ignorant in regards to the machinations of the political apparatus are concerned? Call me crazy, or just “Ruth”, if you need a catchy remembrance of pure insanity, but if it took Herr Twitler almost three hours to do something about the insurrection he caused, protecting the city that was kicking him out soon after, was most certainly, not high on his list of personal priorities.

Try as she might, Seawolf deliberate glossing over as to the reasons why there was (and needed to be) a strong military presence in our nation’s capitol pre-inauguration, fails to erase, deflect, pr distract, from the truth of the matter, and that is this: ON JANUARY SIXTH, 2021, A MOB OF BLOOD-THIRSTY, CANDY-ASSED, WANNABE DOMESTIC TERRORIST SEDITIONISTS, TRIED AND THANKFULLY FAILED, TO OVERTURN DEMOCRACY AFTER THEY LOST A VALID ELECTION,

AND SHOCKINGLY, THE POWERS THAT BE, THOUGHT MORE VIOLENCE MIGHT ERUPT, DUE TO THE CERTAINTY THAT TRUMPANZEES [such as Ruth’ ARE EASILY, SOME OF THE MOST EFFORTLESSLY MANIPULATED DUMBF**KS ON THIS EVER INCREASINGLY F**KED-UP PLANET.

“C’mon Artbitch”, I can hear you say… “Aren’t you now, the one being a tad bit over-dramatic?” Sure, she’s an obvious hypocrite, a metaphorical cafeteria zealot, an alleged slanderer of the innocent, and hell, maybe even possibly the type of person who eats deep-dish pizza with a fork, but to suggest that she’s also an ideological supporter of openly treasonous acts? That’s quite the brass ring you’re reaching for, I think.”

Alright. You got me. That is quite the stretch, is it not? As such, it would be rather irresponsible of me to make such an accusation without proof positive, and mythical Lord knows, that I would never say or even imply such a thing without definitive and incontrovertible evidence. If only I had some from a source that was willing to publicly put it out there for all to discover for themselves, if only for them to make up their own minds. If only….

Oh, silly Billy that I am, as it turns out, I have it right here. I just need to work on my patience, I guess. By way of transparency, I did reference this source material in an earlier Ruth-centered blog, but I feel it needs repeating, nonetheless. To start us off, let’s begin with the topics that Ruth felt were the most important to discuss in the later hours of January Sixth- that being everything that wasn’t about what had actually occurred:

Now, do you all see why the word “Karen” is so prevalent in the underpinning of this latest screed? If there ever was a shopping list of all the things that an out of touch, fearful, hateful, middle-aged, one-wang-rider from Silver City required to fulfill her Bigot Bingo card, the one that Seawolf has compiled here, would be the envy of all those who routinely abuse both their granted at birth White privilege, and the limitations of anti-aging cream.

e time of this post’s original inclusion, I wrote the following about it: “Adding further weight to her indifference to other people’s suffering, here’s Ruth’s brain-dead assessment regarding the January 6th insurrection attempt, inflicted upon our democracy by the traitorous caste of MAGAts, to whom, Ruth grants a Capitol Halls pass of sorts, based on what I can only infer, is a relatable form of kinship.”

Continuing forward, I queried: “And who are “they”, that desires this secular cultural upheaval, you may wonder? Why, a rogue’s list of villains, of course. N namely, the Democrats, leftists, Antifa, and naturally, the newest of boogeymen, BLM.”. This BTW, is still a judgment that I proudly stand by, but in reflecting upon it, I realize that I should have gone a tad bit more expansive in my dissection of it, and if I may, I’d like to now correct that unfortunate oversight.

As you can see, all the greatest “I’m not a racist, but… “ classic hits are on full exhibition here, ranging from bogus claims of cities being burned down to the ground, along with the hysteria (and wholly false) claims that BLM was responsible for the random deaths not truly associated in any form with the protest themselves. Granted, she could go and do the research that bolsters my assertions, but why do that when she can go hide her head in the comforting White sands of bigotry?

Isn’t it interesting that Seawolf mentions the “historic” statues that have been removed by either legislative decree or public pressure, but fails to mention who those said statues were of, or what abhorrent former aspect of American history that they represented? Some fought to dissolve America, if not the ideals it stands for, others were individuals who wanted to maintain the status of the forcibly conscripted as property of a replaceable and disposable nature, and these soulless bastards are whom Ruth feels deserves memorial eternal?

You would think that someone who worships the symbolism of the cross, that she’d actually have a serious disagreement with those who would set it aflame, but I’ll assume that’s only on a case-by-case basis. Seawolf goes on to further betray her latent racist roots, with her false claim that, and I quote directly; “murderers and drug addicts and men who held guns to pregnant women’s bellies were being called heroes!”

For the record, and once again, no one has said that. Anywhere. Ever. Save for the screwed-up voices in the puerile pumpkin that masquerades as Ruth’s head. I’d note that to take offense at the suggestion that anybody has, is duplicitous as f**k, coming from a woman who not only posted a meme praising Kyle Rittenhouse, but who wields her book of Bronze-Age fairy-tales against women unknown to her, who dare to demand autonomy over their own bodies.

If pressed, Seawolf would most likely, take great umbrage at being depicted in this manner, but what should the takeaway be, when someone assuredly thinks that the penalty for passing a bogus twenty should be suffering the indignity of being choked to death by those sworn to protect and serve us? Not to mention, while her so-called God embraced lepers, Ruth instead, feels that drug addiction is off the table for charitable forgiveness?

Wow. Just … wow.

This position of gracelessness, is even more galling in its sanctimoniousness, when one considers that its wellspring speed-balls self-invented drama much in the manner of Iggy Pop left unsupervised during his Berlin phase of personal addiction. If that’s the love of Jesus coming through, I can totally comprehend why Satan plans on being out of the office when she eventually arrives at the Gates of Hell, along with the extra protection of hanging up a “closed for business” sign, as well.

However, she still had more to say concerning January Sixth, and as I duly noted previously; “since Ruth can’t articulate this fallacy for herself, here’s her cut and paste declaration instead.” I swear, if other people didn’t tell Seawolf what to think, she’d be the best doorstop ever made. I apologize in advance for what you’re about to read, but keep in mind that the first time I did so, I didn’t have the benefit of being liquored up on rum first, so you may not want to repeat my initial mistake:

Someday, and possibly sooner than man any that I may posit, they’re going to find this nattering nut-bar, walking down the street, naked as the day she was born, holding only a hand-made sign declaring that the Rapture is nigh, and the last die will have been rolled on what remained of her sanity, and it came up snake-eyes.

To quote my previous scribing yet again; “Normally, this would be the part where I’d lay down some savage snark as a rejoinder, but given how f**king insane this delusional overview is, by saying that this was somehow a “false flag” operation, despite all the hours of self-recorded and I might happily add, self-incriminating video willingly taken by Trumpeters, a myriad of news agencies, as well as the general citizenry, along with the other evidence uploaded to Twitter and Facebook Live by the same, I’ll just have to let such speak for itself.

 As the scope of its absurdity is far more eloquent than my commentary could ever be, any attempt at doing so on my part, seems almost redundant. Mythical JFC, Ruth, I’ve had the displeasure of meeting some mentally twitted people in my time, but you are truly the closest epitome to the phrase, “f**ked in the head”, that I’ve ever come across.

It’s bad enough that you as an alleged Christian, still support a mango Mussolini who represents not one iota of what you believe, it’s bad enough that you look forward to the fabled Armageddon, but just how f**king stupid must you be that you regard showcasing your willing ignorance as if it were an act of pride?”

Nevertheless, Seawolf is no one-shriek pony, she’s as equally unaware when it comes to the current Pandemic as well, asinine aspect I’ve touched upon in my previous writings about her, and one she seems to be still refining as time goes on. Initially against masking protocols alone, she then went on, as we’ve seen, to rage against mandated lockdowns as one might expect, but then added a new twist to her melange of pudding-brained theorems, by posting dipshi**ery such as this:

I am impressed. Close to 800K of her fellow Americans dead, more suffering the long-term aftereffects of the virus itself, some of whom I can comfortably assume, share the same hive mind that Ruth dies, and all this hateful wench can concentrate on, is the need to wrap her already stunning illiteracy of the human soul, within the bigoted borders of a transphobic slur. What a fine example of modern-day Christianity, let me tell you.

And this transgression against the very essence of what God represents, isn’t a 0ne-off of Seawolf’s either- just check out this charming exchange between Ruth and one of her similarly homophobic craven choir:

I can only conjecture that Ruth and her fellow Bible fellating fan-girl, happened to forget the whole of Isaiah 45:7 [KJV] which clearly places the blame for all that is pure as well as the unholy, on the big man himself, and himself alone. To quote; “I form the light, and create darkness: I make peace, and create evil: I THE LORD, DO ALL THESE THINGS.”.

A piece of advice, you Bible-thumping morons? Try reading your book first, before attempting to use it as as absolution for being some of the most spiteful and selfishly stupid people on the planet. The hours you save not embarrassing yourself, will be worth their weight in communion wafers alone. So, do the truly Christian thing, and cut Satan some slack. After all, he’s already got his claws full, apologizing for your vindictively malicious asses, to begin with.

Despite pi**ing in the pond of God’s grace, Seawolf is still secure enough in her specious faith, to speculate that despite all the layers of protections, open access to vaccines, and the most basic of common sense available for the taking, if you’ll pardon my unintended pun, the only thing that can save mankind entire, is the long-overdue intervention of her imaginary sky-daddy, and she’s more than happy to clue us all in on it:  

Damn, does this crazy-ass Caucasian know how to rebuke, or what? Certainly, with a heavenly hailstorm like this, directed against this Hell-sent scourge, it doesn’t stand a chance, and you can take that to the proverbial bank. So, how did this overly naïve approach of asking a mythical and petty sociopath for help work out? Well, if logic is to be followed, the deity Seawolf is beseeching for vanquishment, is also singularly responsible for allowing the virus to ravage the world relatively unchecked, and for quite some time, are they not?

hindsight, it went just as well as one might expect, when established science, is purposefully swapped with magical thinking:

All of my standard black humor aside, this is just terrible. Not only because this physical cost of this virus and its potential for long-term complications is so high, but what’s truly maddening is knowing that if Seawolf and her ilk had undertaken even the merest of effort to follow common sense protocol, the odds of she and her immediate loved ones not contracting COVID in the first place, were most definitely in their favor.

But isn’t it interesting, to see how fast she disingenuously begs for help, in relation to a cherished intimate getting sick, after almost two years of whining non-stop about the mandated precautions that were specifically set in place, so that the general populace at large, would hopefully never have to find themselves facing this terrifying situation?

Never mind that though, for God obviously wanted her to learn a lesson, or maybe he was too busy at the time manifesting via one of her Walmart receipts, (true story) and just didn’t have the free time to listen to her pointless prayers.

Either/or. Take your pick Case in point:

Once again, a hypocritical request by Seawolf to “Please keep my family in prayer”, which, when accurately translated into non-conservative English, reads directly as; “Even though I’ve resisted every effort to help protect yours.” To this appeal, I offer this sentiment from within the frosty chambers of my little blackened heart, and it is that which everyone in her life, needed to say quite some time ago:

Now, please don’t interpret this cartoon causticness of mine as an inference that I wish any form of fatalistic tragedy to befall Seawolf’s family, but that being said, I also can’t think of a more apt act of Karma to afflict her, either. It is quite literally, perfectly tailored for the bed she publicly made, and now, thanks to the anticipated implosion of her own petulant petard, I can honestly say that I have zero sympathy to offer, whereas she and her discomfort are concerned.

After all, there’s still the unanswered elephant-sized question in the room, that being: exactly how many innocent people could she and her collective brood of intellectually-devoid inbreds have possibly infected. As they were walking around carefree and maskless? I for one, can only hope that if a cluster of cases are ever contact traced back to her, the survivors of such, litigate the actual love of God back into her.

Sadly however, it seems that God, for whatever reason, was taking his sweet-ass time responding to Ruth’s prayers, and therefore, she instead sought spiritual support from her fellow Christers in Arms inner circle, many of whom I’m happy to say, rose up to the challenges that God had deliberately placed in her path, if Isaiah 45:7is to be remembered. Good for them, and I seriously mean that.

Sure, they won’t wear masks, practice social distancing, or get vaccinated to help keep others outside their only-one-book club safe, but hey… gotta pick your battles, and all that.  So, in review; Ruth begs God to protect her and her family from COVID, does nothing of note to assist God in his efforts, gets COVID, regardless, and then, asks the entity who allowed said virus to ravage her and her clan, for his divine intervention to vanquish the disease he let flourish… did I get that right?

Knowing this set of contradictions to be true, I’d openly declkar5e that Ruth isn’t promoting her onion-skinned Faith, so much as she’s displaying a rather advanced case of Stockholm Syndrome, instead.

As I said earlier, I, in no way, shape, or form, wish any sort of malevolence upon Seawolf and her family, despite all of that which she has delivered upon my community, but I would ask that if anyone on her family is mercifully free of the wackadoo gene that drives the insincere hamster that powers her brain, the best thing that they can do for her come her birthday, is arrange for a one-on-one session with a psychologist. Or a pharmacist. Or a voodoo priest.

Hell, maybe all three might be put into play, because at this point, I honestly don’t=t know which one would be far more crucial in suspending her alleged mental decline. Regardless, I’m 100% certain that in some fashion, all will play a necessary role in the limiting of her socially posted outbursts of sheer lunacy that as of yet, remain unfettered, unhinged, and untenable to maintaining a rational discussion with her, irrespective of whatever topic it may center on.

The meaning of the word “rational” BTW, is defined by Merriam-Webster as;( 1) Based on facts or reason and not on emotions or feelings a rational decision/choice. Or, (2) Having the ability to reason or think about things clearly. As Seawolf’s own postings and public theatrics have so clearly demonstrated many times over, she has no aptitude for the first definitive, and expecting competency in regards to the second, is an unrealistic expectation, at best.

While I don’t consider myself to be cynically jaded in relation to how deep some people’s mental rabbit holes are, I’m also not too optimistic when it’s asked of me if these same persons can ever be brought back from the edge of the abyss, either. In a nutshell, some can. Some can’t. And those that can’t, should be helped along to their eventual unhappy ending, by being shoved head-first into the gaping maw of the endless void, as we all congratulate ourselves by making Humanity’s gene pool, a tad bit smarter.

See, here’s the thing- most of us, after going through a traumatic experience, generally walk away with a somewhat altered perspective, depending on the extent and eventual consequences of what was inflicted upon us. As you’ve just read, no less than six people, not including Seawolf herself, were affected (allegedly) by COVID, and the reasonable expectancy would be that after surviving such, she would walk away far wiser and possibly somewhat introspective about her experience, overall.

Instead, what happened was this:And when it came to the act of not learning a crucial lesson at all, this arrogant bitch knocked it clean out of the proverbial park, as if she were Reggie Jackson in the 1978 World Series. If I had to use a rather vulgar secondary analogy, I’d surmise that the moral takeaway that scars normal people for life, tends to pass through Ruth’s sou as if it were corn going through a two-year old’s digestive system, looking as pristine as the day it was swallowed.

I can’t possibly begin to tell you specifically what the specific terminology for Seawolf’s particular problem in relation to accepting new information is, but I am fairly certain that it is hard to pronounce. I will say this about Ruth though, whenever I need to bolster an opinion that I’ve formed on my gut instinct alone, she’s always been gracious enough to provide the evidentiary material that nails it to the ground:

OK, I’m confused. Her entire family was literally stroking the bunny slippers of Death, just a few days before this was posted, allegedly sick with COB+VID, but now they’re not, because of… “God”? Yeah, that’s not how illness, viruses, and Realty work, my cannoneer of Christian cray-cray. You either had it, or you didn’t. You were either deathly ill, or you weren’t.

And you most certainly don’t pendulum swing from what you described, to being the pink as it were, within a few days either, especially where COVID is concerned, and that’s regardless of whatever variant you may have suffered. If I were to dissect your supposed turn of sickness, I’d start with this question: Is your doctor an actual doctor, or are they a doctor in the same way that Dr. Pepper is?

Because honestly, that’s the only way that this slice of secular crazy-cake would make any sense. You didn’t get sick (if that actually happened to begin with) because we live in a “fallen world”, you and your family became ill due to your insistence on remaining an absolute f**king moron, who believes that an imaginary cloud-man watches over you, despite reams of proof that shows not only that he doesn’t, it additionally validates that he never existed in the first place.

And I would point out yet again, that if he were truly shielding you from the scourge of COVID, it really wouldn’t be that much of a stretch for him to protect you from whatever bug you purportedly did have. I guess you can file that particular oversight under that convenient “strange ways” clause of his, and therefore, never have to reflect upon it ever again. Nevertheless, I do know this though- if my so-called father put me through all of this for no defensible reason, I sure as Hell, wouldn’t be wasting my breath thanking him for doing so.

Since I earlier called attention to the possibility of you and your family freely disseminating whatever affliction you may or may not have had among the local populace, I will endeavor to not beat a dead horse with a stick here, but I will question the lack of both logic and Christian values, concerning your as equally selfish hubby going back to work within a time period in which, he could still have been somewhat contagious, COVID afflicted, or not.

JFC, no wonder you so loyally follow a *pastor who acquired his ‘Theology Doctorate’ online, rants about the “End of Days”, unashamedly hawks a “Spiritual Warfare Bible”, and who, I kid you not, claims that the commonsense separation of Church and Stare as created by the Founding Fathers of America is, and I quote; “Satanic”, he had to see you coming a mile away, and literally thought; “There’s the person who’s not only gonna pay for my kid’s college tuition, but the printing bills for my line of self-published snake-oil, as well.”  *[Artbitch Archive: October 2021: Ruth-less Sheeple. (The Divine Profit-see)]

The knowledge that this modern-day false “profit” [spelling intentional] is allowed to spread his venom unchecked under the guise of religious freedom, is in equality, both nauseating and troubling, given the fact that this wackadoo is one of those who feeds Seawolf’s increasingly bizarre manifestations of mental weakness, which of course, naturally leads to her issuing declarations such as this:

Out of respect for the sanity of both myself, if not my readers, I’ll try to keep this section brief, as even I do have a limit for how much delusional demagoguery that I can swallow in one sitting. Seawolf, on the other hoof however, is quite fortunate in this department, as being already so full of herself, she literally has no appetite for rationality any longer.

Nevertheless, she does feel compelled to regurgitate publicly whatever her Pastor and the voices in her head managed to force-fed her, and when it comes to the art of asinine anorexia, this woman performs on a level that would make Karen Carpenter green with envy. Although as my means of apologizing to the sadly deceased and exceedingly talented Carpenter, I will happily postulate that she’s actually the only Karen that any of us should pay full attention to.

However, I’ do have a harpy to de-beak, and a Ranch dressing and bacon-bits sandwich awaiting me in my kitchen, so to wrap up this latest assemblage of what one day, will be the cornerstone of the decision to assign Ruth a live-in guardian of sorts, who, let’s face it- will definitely earn whatever form of money, that they’re hopefully being paid in at that time. And I will solemnly attest on my hopefully soon to be dead Mother’s grave, that when I’m done with this last (for now) exsanguination, you and I will take an overdue break.

Okay, okay… I pinky promise, alright? Geez. Who do you think I am, a modern-day Christian? Or even worse, a member of Ruth’s church? Man… you really know how to cut a guy to the quick. But I get it, I honestly do. Reading Seawolf’s rants, opinions, and pixilated ignorance, is enough to drive even a Mormon to bathtub rot-gut, and these people are usually all about the Root Beer alone.

So, without further ado, let’s get Snarky with it. Ironically, Seawolf’s semi-manifesto opens up with a statement that I agree with 100%- “The church should not be involved in politics!!”  Religion, albeit organized or not, has no place in this country’s political, educational, medical, or legislative systems, and if it wants a seat at the table as if it were an ordinary citizen, then it can do what we all have to do, whether we like it or not: PAY TAXES AND BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE FOR ITS ACTIONS AND WORDS.

Otherwise, much like Ruth, it can go f**k itself to sleep, as we certify that it keeps its talons out of the People’s business, as well as our lives. I do wonder however, what Seawolf would say if the community at large was open to the suggestion that we instill tenets of any other faith that isn’t her own, such as Islam into the political mix. I’m sure that she’d be totally cool with it, right? Because after all, she’s so well-known for her even-handed tolerance of opposing ideas.

Speaking to the rest of this woe-is-me diatribe, I’ll call attention to the consistency that once again, Seawolf is seemingly unable to glean that if everyone around her keeps saying the same negative things about the opinions she screeches, maybe, just maybe, and hear me out regarding this please, perhaps the entrenched root of the issue, is indeed, our self-declared professional victim.  

And Ruth? When your own sister told you to your face, that you were in a cult, and the only thing you could publicly utter as a retort, was that you “rebuked” her, we all knew at that precise moment, who the sanctimonious snowflake spanner in the works of Reality truly was. While your laundry list of grievances on some levels do strike as valid, your delusional assertion that we currently have a “fraudulent president” sitting in the White House, is still one of my favorite intrigues that you openly promote.

For the life of me, I can’t imagine why your public presentations of paranoid conspiracy theories, debunked faux-science, unhinged rants showcasing your toxic zealotry, slanderous accusations, and continued slavish adoration to a lecherous Gilded Calf over your supposed Savior, would cause others to label you as a cultist- but I guess that at the End of Days you’ve been praying for, this mystery of the ages will finally explain itself.

Or, more likely, you’ll finally start getting those Thorazine shots that I strongly suspect you’ve required for quite some time now, thereby allowing the community in general, to sleep better at night, knowing that you’re being forcibly medicated. We can only hope. One thing I did find odd though, as I found myself rereading this persecution resume, is that for someone who so reportedly claims that she doesn’t care what people say about her, she spends an awful lot of time ruminating over it. Just saying.

As I wrap up this screed, based on the earlier pinky promise that I undertook, I’ll end it with this final observation; while Ruth may “know” what God has placed in her heart, and as to what the Holy Spirit has shown her, we, as both the unfortunate observers and collateral damage of her mental machinations, are the ones who comprehend best what she represents, and it isn’t God’s allegorical Grace, Love, Wisdom, Compassion, or Charity. At the worst, she’s the embodiment of his sociopathic pettiness.

And at best, she’s the personification of his worst mistake. 

So, until next time, then. And when we come back, I’ll be sharing recollections of some of Ruth’s most fervent anti-fans, delve into how she defines the phrase: “supporting the local business community”, an as usual, doing it with the milk f human kindness approach that I’ve become ever so respected for. 

“If you’re horrible to me, I’m going to write a song about it, and you won’t like it. That’s how I operate”’ -Taylor Swift

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Shetter Island. (Fun with Dick and Lame.}

“Imagine the people who believe such things and who are not ashamed to ignore, totally, all the patient findings of thinking minds through all the centuries since the Bible was written. And it is these ignorant people, the most uneducated, the most unimaginative, the most unthinking among us, who would make themselves the guides and leaders of us all; who would force their feeble and childish beliefs on us; who would invade our schools and libraries and homes. I personally resent it bitterly.” – Isaac Asimov, The Roving Mind

Hello Bitchiteers!

Welcome to 2022, and all of the new possibilities it has to offer us all. Unfortunately, the less savory dregs of 2021 are still prevalent, because we as a country, couldn’t possibly possess nearly enough holy water and silver bullets to effectively smite all the demons of delusion within the borders of what was once considered a semi-functioning society.

Granted, we could try making these mouth-breathers read a book other than the one they claim to have, but to be fair, I doubt the majority of them would know how to even open one, to be quite honest. As they currently run unfettered, doing as much damage as they possibly can to the concepts of logic, civility, and basic humanity, it’s important to note that their motivation for doing so is beyond pathetic, if not wholly psychotic.

In a nutshell, the key word here being “nut”, it’s all to continuously feed the utterly ravenous ego of the world’s angriest Creamsicle, who, when not cosplaying as a toddler having a meltdown in a Walmart, has to constantly remind us as to what can happen when the slowest swimmer manages to make it to the egg first, and its landlord decides in the end, not to throw herself down a flight of stairs for the good of the country.

Just think about it. One cheap shoe heel, fortuitously snapping off during the decent from a second-story landing, and all of this could have been averted, with room to spare.

But the past is the past, even if it does still affect our future, so today, in an effort to make some sense of it all, we’re going to visit a metaphorical land that’s full of paranoic ignorance if not unfounded fear, and no matter what year it is, it always feels as if you’re still in the Dark Ages, due to the intellectual darkness that shrouds its existence, much akin to how dime-store bronzer attempts to disguise the fact that Donald Trump’s outward countenance, is in reality, just a bargain-basement human skin-suit that he purchased off of eBay.

And that task, most likely accomplished by using somebody else’s money via some form of marketed graft posing as commerce, because let’s face it- the man knows his niche.

As this photo of America’s former disgraced Fanta Fuhrer clearly illustrates, this moment of pure cringe, is exactly why he should have paid that extra couple of bucks for the super-grip option on the suits matching gloves.

For other than the fact that they’d keep his raccoon-applied makeup from running due to water splashes, they could also do double duty by firmly holding the pen he’ll need to use when signing all those case settlement checks to the United States Government, if not the women he’s allegedly sexually harassed over the years.

However, given the history of this adulterous, slandering, incompetent, seditious, cravenly, narcissistic, treasonous grifter, currently up to his fat neck in legal battles, potential criminal charges, and ever-increasing debt, I can honestly say that the destination I will be discussing within this screed, may offer him the refuge he so desperately needs.

It has everything a deposed wannabe dictator could ever want in an exile- endless worship, no consequence or retained memory for abominable behavior, and more than enough hypocrisy to make even the dimmest of Trump’s tiki-torch mob feel right at rally. And rest assured, nowhere within the limits of this twittering territory, will anyone ever mention the academic notations of self-taught Professor of Penis Forensics Stormy Daniels either, who once described her under-compensated sexual tryst with the World’s Angriest Creamsicle in the following way:

“He knows he has an unusual penis, It has a huge mushroom head. Like a toadstool … I lay there, annoyed that I was getting fucked by a guy with Yeti pubes and a dick like the mushroom character in Mario Kart … It may have been the least impressive sex I’d ever had, but clearly, he didn’t share that opinion.”

Newsflash, you decomposing Jack O’Lantern? If you have to pay anyone, regardless of their chosen career, 130K just to f**k you, you’re never going to be regaled as a skillful conquistador of the Penis fly trap. Just saying. However, thanks to the dearth of critical thinking to be found only in this magical place, all of your bloviated braggadocio, fraudulent fables, and most importantly of all, your “Big Lie” regarding the election you tanked like a candy-ass bitch, will be accepted at face value, and echoed by the Tucker Carlson cosplayers strategically placed throughout this pustular paradise.  

Renowned for their ability to openly spew racist tripe as they simultaneously lick your boots, you’ll forget all those nasty if accurate, things that the legitimate Media ever said about you. Pay for the Platinum package, and we’ll even arrange for Sean Hannity and Matt Gaetz to come by and give you a horseback ride around your palatial padded room, day or night

And don’t you worry about their background, my rancid Cinnamon stick heir apparent to Hitler, as each one is the proud bearer of a *Deutschblütigkeitserklärung, so you can take supreme comfort in knowing that they’re Whiter than the sheets that they wear to those impromptu 3 A.M front lawn get-togethers they’re ever so fond of. In this Camelot of the Caucasian, the phrase “Black Lives Matter” means only that you can blame them for all of society’s ills, including the ones you help keep underwritten.     
*[A document provided to NAZI party members declaring them deutschblütig, or of “German blood”.

But enough waxing poetic regarding the amenities soon to be enjoyed by persons who take supreme offense at the thought of women, minorities, and non-Christians being allowed to openly express themselves, ladies and gentlemen, without further ado, welcome to Shetter Island, a fiefdom of a singular conservative haranguer, who, being so preoccupied with highlighting his intelligence, failed to notice that he couldn’t showcase what he’s never possessed in the first place.

It’s proprietor, one Richard Shetter, whom I’ve previously described in an earlier screed as being the “best cosplay of a boiled ham that I have ever seen”,, an opinion I still stand by, has a truly dizzying intellect, if I were to be ever so diplomatic, and if I’m known for anything, it’s my love for heaping kindness upon the thought-provoking viewpoints of people who prove beyond a shadow of a doubt, just what happened to that weird kid in your Kindergarten class who used to mumble to themselves  in a far corner of the room, as they ate paste straight out of the jar.

Now, as regular readers may recall, Shetter popped up on my radar a while back, after another current Artbitch chew-toy, one Ruth Darlene Seawolf, issued a call to arms as it were against [allegedly] yours truly, for bringing her online harpy histrionics regarding God, politics, and of course the pandemic, to the attention of her corporate taskmasters.

Seawolf, who consistently eschews any valid criticism relating to her ever-increasingly bizarre public meltdowns as nothing less than a coordinated attack upon her thin as tissue-paper Christian faith, plays the victim so much using this threadbare trope, that if she’s seen in just the right light, one could swear that there’s a permanent chalk outline hovering around her.

Shetter, who comes off as being a few fries short of a Happy Meal, which is somewhat ironic, given his strong resemblance to Grimace having an attack of uncontrolled flatulence, was more than happy to swallow Ruth’s obvious twit-bait, suggesting that she should, and I quote; “Take the guy’s picture and put it ne here so we can harass him to see how he likes it”, a threat so without teeth, that Poligrip sent it a case of their finest product, out of sympathy

Now, this is not to say that Shetter couldn’t pose a potential threat due to some form of definable mental impairment or deficiency, but as I will hopefully come to demonstrate, if Life itself had an HR department, this midget of mentalism would definitely be on a first-name basis with not only the head secretary, but the water delivery guy as well, because I get the very string feeling that follow-through regarding actions and/or research, isn’t his forte.

Of course, this take of mine is based solely on my personally held theorem that his alleged critical thinking skills, appear not only to have gone untested, they’ve also remained securely wrapped within their original packaging, thus far. I don’t say this flippantly, as it is my nature to look before I leap, so like any good writer, I made sure to test out the waters first before I ever put on my Speedos made from flank steaks.

For instance, ff I come across a social media presence that features a sizeable amount of weaponry displayed as if it were someone’s girlfriend, I tend to tread a little more lightly than I might with other subjects, if only for the fact I really enjoy not waking up in a strange crawlspace, or being randomly blown up when I go to start my car in the morning.

Fortunately for myself as well as my fellow liberal-leaning New Mexicans, Shetter seemingly has no outwardly stated interest in assembling either a accumulation of politically-opposed strangers, or military-grade hardware to be stored underneath the floorboards of his home/

As is the case with a far too large majority of today’s modern self-identifying Conservative movement, Shetter does however, consistently utilize those Jimmy Dean sausages, he wittily calls fingers, to go online and type out his inanity, encased in a fetid mélange of paranoid conspiracy, thinly veiled racism, misogyny, and willful ignorance, poorly masquerading as commentary on the social, the political, and the cultural, three elements of our great society that Shetter refuses to see for what they clearly are, that being works in ever eternal progress.

Shetter’s fear-fueled inability to adequately comprehend the societal intricacies of Life itself, has less to do with the limitations instilled by his non-branching family tree, and far more tin common with the ideologies that he espouses as if they were both necessary and relevant to those of us whose brains and consciences actually still work the way mythical God intended them to.

Understanding this perspective, Shetter’s consistently derailed train of thought isn’t that unique, or even particularly shocking, given the abominable thoughts that one can easily find scattered across the social media landscape these days, but it’s still fun to mock, nonetheless.

Granted, while he’s not yet in the same league as previous Artbitch honorees, such as alleged bigot Ken Cykala, or the intellectual void that is Richard “Ricardo” Leyba, he’s still worthy of nefarious notation, and if I were so inclined to establish a ranking for the mentally meandering bulk that is he, I’d place him just above Silver City’s very own “F**k Biden” flag-hag Nick Lemme, and just below Silver City’s resident canonized Christian cat-lady, Ruth Darlene Seawolf, who to her credit, still serves as both a bad faith example, if not the evidence as to why religion is so destructive where the supposed feeble of mind are concerned.

And while the New Year to come will bring with it even more screeds regarding this lauded list of luminous lummoxes, today’s focus is all about our good friend, “Dick”. Sorry… I meant to say “Richard”, but in my limited defense, when I’m dealing intimately with someone who’s countenance resembles that of a waxed penis rather than the one of actual humans, the occasional Freudian slip is not only probable, but inevitable.

Sure, his sense of uninformed xenophobia may not be on par with Ken’s obsessive bigotry towards BLM, and even though he may not feel the White Trash need to Face-brag about receiving a free “Let’s Go Brandon” Christmas ornament from a fellow Trumper like Nick recently, if not embarrassingly, did, Shetter still blazes his own path, no matter what Reality might have to say regarding its trajectory.

On a more positive note, Shetter seemingly lacks the AXE body-spray esthetic of Lemme, and while he has publicly alluded to the mythical God in a comment or two, he, unlike his Facebook buddy Ruth Darlene Seawolf, isn’t ostensibly consumed by the mania of religious hypocrisy, so there is that, at least.

Sadly however, Shetter does have a touch of the conspiracist stench upon him, but unlike his fellow “Dick”, Richard Leyba, this sociopathic seepage seems more of the aftereffect of a warped worldview, rather than a mad embrace of what appears as a quickly fomenting mental illness, as is seemingly the case in regards to Leyba, who sees the teaching of CRT in public schools, as nothing less than communistic indoctrination, even though there’s not one school system in America doing so, as it’s quite literally, a graduate study level curriculum.

At best in my opinion, Shetter presents as a simplistic moron, cut from the same farcical cloth as the type of person you’d expect to see eating ten McRib’s in one sitting, and at worst, he’s a cautionary tale of what directly happens when you carelessly interbreed your familial DNA with the QAN network.  Why would I say this, you ask? Well, maybe it as something to do with the fact that he posts scam spam like this:Yeah… that’s not how Retail works. No major corporation is going to toss out perfectly good and financially viable product into the trash, regardless of scratches or minor damage, especially a money-grubbing company like Walmart, who’s far more likely to toss its long-term staff into an industrial shredder, long before any of the cheap crap that they sell.
Reading this, I can now see exactly why Shetter believes what he believes. After all, if you can put any stock in garbage like this, odds are pretty good you’ll buy just about anything that the GQP wants to sell you. Heck, he still buys into Trump’s collection of kooks, lies, and stinkers, and I haven’t the heart to tell him as of yet, that he’ll never get his money’s worth out of that purchase.A small sales tip from me to you: anytime one has to follow up their pitch with the words “Trust me” to get you to sign on the dotted line, not only should you not trust them, you also might want to not finish drinking anything they handed you prior as well. Just saying. I mean, I’ve heard of gullible, but it’s supposed to be a momentary choice, not a f**king lifestyle.

Because with all due honesty, the only thing I’d trust from a guy calling himself “Sailk Ali” is his opinions on exactly where I can get hummus, polyester shirts, and reasonably-priced gold chains, all in the same location.  And as you might have imagined, it’s his cousins place, just off the turnpike in Paramus.

And yes, while this could be considered a mild sample of Shetter’s predilection for basing his erroneous beliefs on no more than the slim chance that they might be validated, it’s also an indicator of just how susceptible Shetter is to the attractiveness of such inanity, if he feels it tenuously aligns with what he chooses to put his faith in. And what, pray tell, are the things he backs with his convictions?

Well, it’s definitely not modern-day Sconce, since I’m fairly confident that given the nature of his publicly declared stance regarding the ongoing pandemic, his trove of research regarding both the disease itself and its pharmaceutical response, was acquired by skimming YouTube content, and occasionally checking in with the voices in his otherwise empty head.

As usual, a person with no definable experience of essential context, and who also has no obvious grasp on the underlying factors inherent within the virology of a worldwide medical crisis, and without a single shred of credible evidence to support his assertion, somehow “knows” beyond a shadow of all reasonable doubt, just who is to blame for the situation at hand, that being the faceless and formless cabal known only as “THEY”.

As in, “THEY” are responsible. “THEY” planned all this. “THEY” are the enemy. THEY” sneak into my house at night as I sleep, and steal singular socks out of my dryer. I may not be sure about the first three things, but I’m goddamn sure I’m right on the money with the fourth. However, I must give credit where credit is due once again, as the logic of these anti-COVID cucks has evolved into what can only be charitably described as an orgy involving conspiracy theories, and paranoid schizophrenia.

And the end result of all of this intellectually bereft bacchanalia? Absurdity on a grand scale, I’m afraid.. First, Covid was a “hoax” perpetuated by the Media, eventually morphing into a “liberal / Deep State plot”: against Donald Trump, just before it settled into the discernment that it’s a purposefully designed biological weapon, a subterfuge orchestrated by Microsoft’s Bill Gates collusion with the streaming service Netflix.

Obviously, I made that last part up obviously, but you just know that in due course, someone’s going to float that theory at some point, if for no other reason than to test it out.

Till that inglorious day arrives wherein we all get to experience yet another slice of the Red Velvet cake of vacuousness that the GQP serves up ever chance it gets to do so, we’ll have to just make do with twatastic tripe like this:

Sigh…no, Dick. It is not “like the flu”, nor is it “the flu” either, as the actual flu itself kills an average of around 35K Americans every year, whereas Covid on the other hand, has led to the deaths of over 815K thus far. So, if one makes an argument based on just the tabulated numbers alone, Shetter’s depiction of their being equivalent in effect, is beyond the grace generally afforded to the densest among us, of which, Shetter is most certainly a card-carrying member of. .

As further proof for this opinion of mine, let’s peruse this critically barbed social commentary Shetter posted, despite having no outwardly definable or defendable debate points, to back up his willfully displayed self-delusions, not that he could (or would) anyway.
I won’t speak for you of course, but given the animosity that the GQP openly displays towards both public education and the people responsible for instilling it, Shetter’s asinine observation that teachers are the impetus for what he perceives as a failing society, is truly disingenuous at best. Keep in mind that this sentiment is being expressed by the very same people who say “don’t trust the science”, as they howl that the vaccines they so willingly slur, cause death, or surreptitiously serving as a carrier system for government-tracked microchips.

And don’t come at me with that bullspitt “Vaccines make you magnetic” fever dream, either. We’ll be here for hours, for unless you have a child’s macaroni art or a multitude of expired pizza coupons hanging off your face without the aid of glue or tape, I don’t really wanna hear about it. And in an additional side note, I will also state (yet again) to all that are gathered her today that CRT IS NOT BEING TAUGHT IN ANY GRADE SCHOOL WITHIN THE UNITED STATES.

However what kind of Red Velvet cake of Vacuousness would it really be if there wasn’t an extra-thick layer of creamy conspiracy icing sitting right on top of it? A palatable one of course, but such unappetizing foibles are beyond the cravenly palates of those who at this point, are so used to eating crow, they now refer to all their meals as “attending a murder”. Ladies and gentlemen, feel free to gnaw ot this serving of paranoid pralines like I did, and enjoy its easily debunked paranoia:Wow. that is truly a bold (if utterly false) claim, let me tell you. Unfortunately for Shetter, much like the Grinch who stole Christmas, I’m about to steal his brand-new Electro Who-Cardio Floox right out from under him, right before I melt it down into a set of “I got my Booster Shot” novelty lapel pins.

Unsurprisingly, while this post of Shetter’s was fact-checked as “false” by Facebook, it didn’t spur Shetter to actually undertake any research to see if it was true or not, a state of affairs which just so happens to be, the eternal Achilles for the majority of Conservative nimrods, as being presented with actual facts, versus biased opinion, literally cause them to have panic attacks.

For the record, there have been many fatalities stemming from Covid among politicians, the list includes such persons as first African-American Secretary of State Colin Powell, member-elect of the U.S. House Luke Letlow, 2012’s Republican presidential contender Herman Cain, U.S. Representative Ronald Wright, becoming the first member of Congress to die after testing positive for the virus, as well as Federal Appeals Court Judge Stephen F. Williams, just to name a few.

I’d point out that it took exactly 1.22 seconds to find all this out using Google alone, but I’m sure Shetter had more important things to do, rather than exerting the non-effort it would have taken to not embeams himself in public yet again. I don’t know the reason why he didn’t do so,, but I’m condolent that it had nothing to do with the allegation that it was his turn to bring the refreshments to his weekly conspiracy theory book club, and he was unfortunately pressed for time.

All 1.22 seconds of it.

Speaking of the passage of Time itself, Shetter and Seawolf have yet another commonality between them that I’d like to highlight, that being- they apparently both believe that the Antichrist is on hi way, and hopes to achieve his goal of bringing forth the biblical End of Days employing the ever so clever strategy of… wait for it… mandatory mask mandates!  I know… I didn’t see it coming either, and I was raised as an Orthodox Catholic. To be fair, their inane interpretation could just stem from misreading Revelations 13:17, which states; “And that no man might buy or sell, save he that had the mark, or the name of the beast, or the number of his name.” 

And if this notion of mine that they mistook “mark” for “mask” turns out to be even half true, then it’s not the case that Shetter and Seawolf share a exclusively fantastical delusion due to a limited intellect, so, much as it is that they just need to brush up their comprehension skills. Or I could go one step further, and suggest that they actually read the Bible, instead of fellating it, if only for a refreshing change of pace.

Nevertheless, the one area where Shetter’s understated faith on full display, compared to Seawolf’s that is, just also happens to be the one societal component that Jeus himself gave a considerable amount of air to-.I am of course, talking about serving for the greater good of Man. Loving thy neighbor. Welcoming the stranger. Protecting the weak. Provide comfort to the weary.

You know… the stuff that God commands you to do, as one of his humbly loyal flock? In other words, so not this:
You’re reading this correctly. Shetter, ever the boot-licking cur, appropriated a “liberal” meme to dares compare a respected Climate Change activist and recipient of the Gulbenkian Prize for Humanity, who’s never been connected with any form of social violence, to a cold-blooded murdering thug named Kyle Rittenhouse, who viewed a time of civil unrest as the perfect opportunity to go play Duck Hunt with defenseless humans

Adding insult to the grievous carnage he unjustifiably meted out, Rittenhouse, with no specialized training in de-escalation or conflict avoidance. And using a weapon he wasn’t legally allowed to own, in a town he had no connection to, then mercilessly snuffed out the lives of two of his fellow Americans, along with seriously wounding a third. And at the risk of being somewhat crude, I bet the thought of it gives Shetter serious morning-wood every time that he finds himself alone in the privacy of his mom’s garage.

Whereas Thunberg wound up donating her million-dollar prize to various charities “Fighting for a Sustainable World”, Rittenhouse on the other hand, has gone on to milk his fifteen minutes of infamy as a vanilla prop for those assorted guntards who need to strap on a penis before they can go use the bathroom… in their own house. He’s also squawked about suing the media for their depicting of him as an irresponsible murdering man-boy, so as you cans see his decision-making skillset remains just as sharp as ever.

If you ever decide that you truly want one photo that encapsulates everything currently f**ked-up about this country and it’s values, this one depicting two remorseless murderers celebrating their undeserved freedom, nails it pretty much dead on.  One lied about taking the shot when it was necessary, and the other lied about why he took the shot when it wasn’t.

But never let it be said that this human analog for fecal pudding, is without compassion, for as we’ve seen thus far, there’s no need for stating that which is obvious. By way of example, let’s take a gander at how Shetter views the plight of political refugees, fleeing a country that we waged war against for the better part of two decades:Truly, the very essence of Jesus, is it not? Does anyone else get the feeling that if Mary and Joseph showed up on Shatter’s doorstep, seeking sanctuary from Roman persecution, he’d immediately send a message via carrier Hebrew, to alert the legionaries as to which manger they were hiding out in? with no humor intended, Shetter may be the only person on his block whose seasonal creche features borer patrol agents placing the Baby Jesus in custody.

Contained within the book of Bronze-age fairy-tales that Shetter and others of his ilk reference consistently, yet never follow even marginally, Leviticus 19:18 declares that; “You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against the sons of your own people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself.”.

Now, for the rational among us, ‘your neighbor’ is a metaphor for all mankind, even those who may have, or currently may be, in the act of harming it. But to be fair, criminals and the consequences of their actions are somewhat hard for most of humanity to extend an olive branch of acceptance to, so by that definition, Shetter a self-decreed believer, should have as much contempt for a murderer such as Rittenhouse, that he would for a lesser criminal such as George Floyd, who was slew by police on the unconverted suspicion that he had attempted to pass a counterfeit twenty,

Such an act, I think we can all agree, is not a crime worthy of the death penalty, which is what Floyd abominably received at the knee of a sociopath who had been gifted with a badge, rather than with a working conscience. But as we’ve all come to realize through countless examples of disturbing disingenuousness, hypocrisy is the only value that the GQP faithfully ascribes to these days, and they’re not afraid to openly display it, either.

Although this in and of itself is a fairly obvious reality, Shetter tends to see it differently, believing that;

“Democrats say all the criminals are heroes”, which besides not only being patently untrue, is also so goddamn tone-deaf that Shetter could be an honorary member of Creed.

To retort, may I note that the only political party worshiping criminals with regularity is the GQP who thus far have lauded; Matt Gaetz (alleged sexual trafficking), Greg Gianforte (assault), Roger Stone (lying under oath), Paul Manafort (tax and bank fraud). Michael Flynn (lying to the FBI), George Nader (possessing child pornography and human trafficking) Steve Bannon (fraud), Elliott Broidy (conspiracy for failing to register and disclose his role in a lobbying effort),

along with a host of media pundits who, despite knowing exactly who was responsible for the January sixth sedition attempt, went on-air claiming that it was BLM and Antifa activists instead.

But yes Dick… it’s the Democrats who need to clean house. For the record, my paranoic pinhead, nobody is, or has, declared Floyd a “hero”. What they have acknowledged is that the manner of his death was undeserved, unconstitutional, and completely unwarranted, hence the reason for these community murals scattered across not only the United States, but the world as well, a factoid that unsurprisingly, you forgot to mention.

Perhaps you’d like to roll the dice, and see what if feels like to have a 160-pound man kneel upon your neck for ten minutes, and wonder if you’ll survive the experience, despite all the protective padding that larded sewer pipe you call a neck, provides. Although, it’s also transparently blatant that since the rotten cabbage that serves as your brain hasn’t received either fresh oxygen or required blood for decades now, so in the end, I’m sure you’ll be ok.

But to be clear, that’s due more to the fact that your intellect shares more in common with a pallet of rancid Silly Putty, versus belonging to an actual human. As proof of that, let’s peruse this ever so well-crafted thought directly transferred off of a Conservative’s comic page, shall we?

I will gladly offer up a free box of chilled Ding Dongs to the first person who can translate this sentence obviously typed in the middle of a stroke, into an actual coherent thought. I for one, seriously doubts that the political party that openly supports BLM along with wanting to launch equitable diversity and equality throughout all aspects of American life, has the ability to “make’ anybody racist, who isn’t already prone to its influence to begin with.

Democrats may be able to do a lot of things; that being overly optimistic, somewhat socially short-sighted, occasionally far too sensitive, and most certainly, ineffective as of late when it comes to battling an opposition that cares not who or what, gets hurt in its lust to achieve its selfish and horridly inhuman goals, but casting a spell of racism upon our enemies as if we were a cabal of Dungeon Masters, remains tantalizingly just out of our collective reach.

Maybe, just maybe, the reason you react so strongly to charges of racist behavior Dixk, is because you start off most of your jokes involving minorities, by looking both ways before you tell it, in what I can only assume is carefully selected company. Take for instance, these two examples of commentary posted by Shetter, wherein he regards a serious issue affecting modern-day society, keeping in mind that with at least one of these, the odds of his being tempted to open with “I’m not racist, but…”, were probably quite high.

Ah yes… the “school” failed him.

Not the child himself, nor the parents who live with him, who being in place as such, are correspondingly responsible for making sure that his scholastic development was progressing as it should. Nope, it has to be the fault of the educational entities that Republicans deride, underfund and demonize, as they challenge the (as of yet, nonexistent) curriculum that dares tell the Truth about America’s well-founded history of institutionalized genocide, bigotry, misogyny, and White supremacy underpinnings.

And Dick? Teaching kids to read, write, and spell, is quite literally, the “basics”. And the parents of said children are just as important to the process as the educators who set them upon their intellectual journey.

Subtle reminder- if you’ve raised a child to seven years of age, and they can’t read or spell, you’re the one that f**king failed, both as a parent, as well as a person. But according to Shetter, this assessment doesn’t apply if you’re a native-born citizen, of course, as this hypocritical judgement is reserved only for those who fall into the openly bigoted sub-category of the “other”:“If they speak English wouldn’t be a problem you come here learn English”, says the person who cannot grammar or properly structure a sentence, even if his undeservedly arrogant shell of a life depended upon it. To note, this ignorant trainwreck of a sentence should have read; “If they spoke English, they wouldn’t have a problem. If you come to America, you should learn English.” 

Glad to help. It’s truly a shame that what I can only assume is your bargain basement GED, failed to do so. Shockingly, for persons (so-called) like Shetter, the knowledge that being fluent in English is not a requirement for residency in this country, nor should it ever be, given the history of how the strength of the immigrants who set its foundations contributed to its potential for greatness, tends to be received as quite the shock.

Especially when they realize that their bigotry makes them the minority, not the majority that they require to face life itself without fear regarding the consequences of their actions. Hence the reason for their incessant need to manufacture scapegoats, as a means to rationalize the failure of the lives. Nothing is ever their fault. And every unfortunate happenstance that happens to them, is always due to the machination of others, and not the inability to manifest their true destiny.

Shetter’s view of public education however, is a mélange of misinformation, mixed with a post-50’s quasi-reality that never really existed, as proven by yet another posting by this high school guidance counselors’ nightmare. If Shetter ever had (or does have) kids, I can only imagine the game of heads or tails that occurs in the teachers’ lounge prior to the one homeroom teacher forced to meet with him during their annual parent-teacher conference.

I can only imagine the slurs of incompetence he’d levy, if the compiled list below was what he expected his kids to learn at school, and not at home, as the majority of us did.I’d take the time to note that his high school also allegedly never taught him as we’ve seen from his postings, other vital life skills either such as grammar, understanding context, basic science, the application of political theory, or respect and tolerance for his fellow Americans differing point of view, but in its limited defense, one can only shape a mound of sentient mashed potatoes so far before it collapses in on itself.

Granted, there are quite a few aspects listed here, that even I, a societal cynic, would like to see integrated into a school’s overall curriculum, but I’m also a realist at heart, when it gets right down to the brass tacks of things.

However, given the overall lack of stable funding for public education, thanks in large part to GQP interference, to demand such programs to be singular certainties in this modern age, is beyond asinine, because whether Shetter believes it or not, these concepts can be gleaned from within the available structure. Not to mention, if someone wants to learn how to do anything in this, the Age of Accessible Information, all they need do is engage in the wackiest of actions, such as,, you know…

… ASKING SOMEONE OR DOING SOME RUDIMENTARY RESEARCH, LIKE WE DID WHEN WERE TEENAGERS?

This just now leaves Shetter’s disrepute targeting the Pythagorean Theorem, as it’s fairly obvious that he never learned that principle either, since its relevance to everyday life, is pretty much a given, to those of us who actually did pay attention in class. By the by, the Theorem is valuable for plotting not just two-dimensional triangulation, but navigating by air, as well. Muralists (as I once was) also adjust the theorem, in order to determine the appropriate ladder height in order to safely complete their work.

And yes, that actually is a thing, if you lack for a cherry-picker.

In a more contemporary vein, the size of a TV or a computer monitor, is always a measure of diagonal, as their respective sizes are, in actuality, the value of the hypotenuse. I’m sorry that I had to bust some knuckles with my metaphorical ruler just now, but when I’m laying down a cold dose of reality, conservative chowder-heads such as Shetter, are already on the thinnest of ice with me.

And speaking of things that are thin, let’s discuss Shetter’s view regarding that which is certainly guaranteed to start a fight over any holiday dinner, American Politics. As is to be expected, Shetter’s echo-chamber worldview, is in full lockstep with the self-styled victimhood of today’s conservative movement, which centers primarily on moral codes they regularly betray, social issues that they care nothing about, and paranoid fantasies that give their faux ideology its fuel.

A representational case involving all that I just noted, if I may;

Sigh… this poor socially-stifled veteran. taking to the streets of America, illustrating the seriousness of his political suppression. Can you just imagine the chilling of personal expression that this Patriot finds himself fighting against on a daily basis? Sure, his ideology wants to decree draconian actions against minorities, social justice advocates, feminists, the LGBTQ community, and most disturbingly, the Free Press, but feel free to jettison this reality, because he and his bleating brood, are the real victims here.

The pain of using your constitutionally-protected power of Free Speech to complain about a repressive government that only allows you to protest in public? Brutality, plain and simple. And knowing that as a white middle-aged person, your odds of being harassed, assaulted or facing arrest, is literally zero, must be one heck of a mental burden to carry, let me tell you.

That is, when you don’t have the security of internet access to Facebook or Twitter, but that’s it. And once you deliberately ignore the reach of Tik Tok, Instagram, WhatsApp, Snapchat, Foursquare, Reddit, YouTube, independent websites and their associated media outlets, you my friend, have no options whatsoever.

Nevertheless, Shetter steadfastly goes forward into the fray, brandishing all the contempt his corpulent paranoid delusion can muster, by railing against one of  the most controversial concerns of our time-, the topic of the moment being, and I swear I am not making this up, sex changes for five-year-olds:

I know I may just be screaming into the wind here, but is this some form of social plague I have been blissfully unaware of? Not the falsity of Shetter’s belief that five -year-old children are being regularly allowed to undergo reassignment surgery, as if they were casually visiting a McDonalds mind you, but that supposedly functioning adults think that this is actually occurring?

SPOILER: IT ISN”T.

At least, not in the way tha6t Shetter froths at the mouth over. While there have been some notable cases, the reality of such is yet another brick in the wall of insanity that conservatives have constructed around themselves, as well as their already severely limited intellect. Seriously… I don’t know which is far more pathetic here, the delusional caprices that conservatives like Shetter put stock in, or the fact that they came to these conclusions without doing the merest of research regarding them, first.

Sadly, Shetter’s stance regarding that Gender Dysphoria can be simply “fixed” by the critical selection of what gender specific toys the allegedly afflicted chooses to play with during their earliest developmental years, is simply asinine beyond rationality. If anything, it would more likely just reinforce the conviction that said individual feels to be wholly correct, the belief that they’re trapped within the wrong construct of gender

When our friend Dick here, gets done obsessing over contrived falsehoods involving the genitalia of underaged strangers. I’d recommend that he educate himself on this particular issue, but let’s be honest here. He’s not going to do that, and I’d have far better success wishing for him to be trapped in an elevator with lauded transgender actress, and LGBT advocate, Laverne Cox. If that blessed event ever does occur, I can only imagine just where she’d suggest he park that alleged gender-fixing truck.

Hopefully, someplace uncomfortable, that will require his future proctologist to ask him some truly disturbing questions as to what the physical representation of his transphobia was doing there. On a further pathetic attempt to justify that which confuses him, Shetter is quick to post so-called “proof’ from the not biased at all “news site’, cnsnews.com:CNSNews is quite proud that it’s mere existence provides, in its own words; “an alternative news source that would cover stories that are subject to the bias of omission and report on other news subject to bias by commission. In order to address the lack of conservative opinions in major news outlets across the country,”

And how did CNSNews decide that unlike itself, media was full of liberal bias? Well, by using numerous studies conducted by a source of unquestionable integrity, that being the Media Research Center, the parent organization of CNSNews. What a truly stunning turn of events, is it not? While on the surface, this might appear to be a massive conflict of interest, I’d like to go on record to note that this judgement carries just as much weight as when my mom said I was the best oldest son she had ever had, if not more.

As for Shetter’s almost incoherent lead-in to this biased as f**k faux poll, I’ll just take the briefest of of moments to yet again, correct his abominable syntax, punctuation and ever-increasing inanity: “Yes(,) (there’s) only two genders(.) (Q)uit (trying) to change it.”

If the maxim “”Reality has a liberal bias” is even remotely accurate, the first thing I’d suggest Shetter acquire after an in-depth discussion with a transposon, would be a visit to a Kindergarten class to brush up on the literary comprehension skills he ignored in favor of feeding his jar-a-day paste habit.

Carrying forward with his theme of uttering opinions about social issues that no one asked his opinion on, Shetter posted this confused gem, possibly concerning the issue of an actual living wage, versus one that currently, only allows you to barely exist. Or maybe it’s about kids being lazy. It’s kinda hard to tell.

At the time of this screed, (01/2022) the federal minimum wage is $7.25/hr, although the rate states can range from that lowest of baselines, up to $15.00/hr, depending on the individual state. By comparison, and this, according to deputation statements filed for the 2020 fiscal year. the current CEO of McDonald’s, Chris Kempczinski, earned $10,847,032 in total compensation.

Of this, $963,506 was noted as salary, $4,750,011 as stock options, $4,750,129 as bestowed stock, and the remainder, $383,386, was derived from various forms of recompence. Essentially, if one excises his corporate “perks”, Kempczinski, if he worked a standard 40 hours a week, which I doubt strongly, raked in an average of $501.83/hr, or (roughly) 60.21 times more than his lowest paid employee.

Now to be fair, while I’m not sure what Shetter’s point in posting this meme was, I’m also pretty confident that he has no idea what that point was intended to be, either. Is he upset those teenagers and young adults, no longer want to work these types of jobs due to their being overworked by managers, if not feeling underappreciated by “Karens” like Shetter, who most likely, will pitch a fit if he can’t get a Big Mac shoved into his flatulent maw in under five minutes?

Maybe it’s his unfounded fear that said conglomeration of Soy and Salt, will see a price increase if indeed, the Golden Arches pays it’s workers a vastly improved wage they can utilize a successful life with, versus maintaining the one they currently experience, scraping by on the thinnest of margins?

of our intellectually vacuous incredible bulk here, I’d note that in Denmark, McDonald’s workers make an average of $22/hr, get 1-year parental leave, and a significant retirement package, yet the burger currently costs around $4.87, 79 cents cheaper than the average $5.66 cost in the U.S. therefore, I can’t ascertain what supposed “problem” Shetter is alluding to, overall.

And as for his inane notion that as yet, unnamed people need to quit “babying their kids and make them get jobs at McDonalds sonic like it used to be. And learned Work ethics”, I’d have to opine that maybe Shetter (once again) should learn how to first compose the English language properly, before he gives life advice to anyone.  Just saying.

I could easily inform this bulbous blowhard if I so wished, that not only are McDonald’s and Sonic separate corporations, but that unlike his perception, the average age of a worker at McDonald’s is 24, hardly the teenage demographic that Shetter imagines as the franchise’s backbone. However, as I’ve noted throughout this blogvella, the ability to undertake actual research, seems far out of the grasp of Shetter, a man who, even to the most casual of observers, appears to have been assembled out of a stack of rancid Egg McMuffins.

And what pray tell, does Shetter exactly consider to be “work ethics”? The desire to keep a low-paying, high0abuse menial job, only to be in servitude of persons who deride the very same workers as “burger flippers”, unworthy pf a living wage, yet still demand that they tirelessly perform a service that they themselves, are both unwilling and unable to do?

Let me say this now; there IS NO SUCH THING AS “UNSKILLED LABOR”. This descriptive, when dissected at its core, is no more than a capitalistic rationalization to justify the dispersing of slave wages for essential work, that those who consider themselves to be the truly elite, feel is beneath their typically self-declared and illusory status in life, and when applied to lower-end endeavors by such people, it reminds one of a quote from “Macbeth’, written by William Shakespeare, that states simply;

“It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”

And if you doubt this assessment of mine, just look at who spares no opportunity to degrade the lower-end workforce; the very same self-appointed elites, whose economic grip on established power, is crucially dependent on those who, without any certified promise or hope of consistent reward, provide the metaphorical mortar that is so central to the structural integrity of their allegorical ivory towers.

Speaking of ivory towers, it should also come as no surprise that Shetter felt the need to cast some judgement upon the waters of the incel pond on which his boat allegedly floats, in order to slur the other red meat target conservatives salivate over, that being independent women who dare make choices that they don’t agree with:Is anybody else staring to get the feeling that Shetter’s rebuke stems from the fact that the only time a woman ever willingly got down on her knees in front of him, was so that she could pray that he would stop talking to her? Good. I hate to be alone when I’m assembling a verdict, and if I were to go a step further, I’d put forth the notion that the half-truth of the petulantly toxic male joke; “You know the difference between a slut and a bitch? A slut will screw anyone. A bitch will screw anyone but you”, is something he thinks about… a lot.

As with all things incendiary that I write, I base it all on the actions and actual words of those that I mock, as I’m loathe to ever pass up truly free joke fodder. In Shetter’s case, I refer to the meme’s resentful introduction that he wrote, and in which, he attempts (and fails) to degrade both the character of women in general, but only succeeds at disrespecting his own:Let’s review: Sullenly implied misogyny? Check. False conclusion based on the allegation that Shetter couldn’t can’t get laid without collateral being presented first? Check. Whining that no one will give them a fair shake, without acknowledging the possibility, that the problem just might be you? Check, hell yes.  

Now, I wouldn’t dare say that Shetter doesn’t know how to treat a woman, even if the one he chooses comes without an air pump, a patch kit, and a full warranty on her vacuum attachments, but I would infer that as a rule, most women tend to find willfully ignorant, sociopath supporting, over-obsessive transphobes, somewhat on the spectrum’s’ edge of unattractive. And when I say that, I’m not actually referring to Shetter’s limited physical appeal, so much as I am regarding his lack of intellectual acuity.

After all, I once knew a girl who had a full cover tattoo of Jabba the Hutt on her back, so there’s obviously someone for everyone. Don’t shoot the Snark, my dejected Dick, for I don’t make the rules. I just note their validity. As long as I live, I will never understand why male conservatives in general, regard themselves as such a supreme catch, considering how close their political ideology aligns with the one espoused by those who proudly self-identify as “Incels”.

For the few of you who may be unfamiliar with this term, an Incel tends to be a man who regards himself as being unwillingly celibate, an as such, typically displays extreme resentment and hostility toward those women that they feel are to blame for their metaphorical imprisonment within a sexual gulag, The etymology of the term  itself emerged from an online collective in which scores of such man-boys, rail eternally about not being granted access to physical pleasures that their own fantasies will no longer compensate for.

This movement of mewling mama’s boys has advanced, is also responsible for multiple acts of violence against women, enacted by craven cucks, who, due to their own hands refusing to touch them any longer, without being drunk first, feel justified in their actions. If Shetter is lonely because no rational woman will have him, I’d suggest he get a dog instead. Granted, he doesn’t deserve a dog, but then again, I can’t think of what any woman could have done to deserve Shetter’s misogyny either, but here we are.

Fortunately, for me at least, Shetter is no one-dick pony. He’s just as equally ignorant regarding the political landscape as he is regarding the ones previously dissected. It’s not just the case of his being abominably misinformed, paranoiac, and guilelessly gullible, it’s the fact that he seems absurdly happy to remains so, in this, the age of immediately accessible knowledge.despite the resources that are openly available to him, Shetter instead, chooses like most chowder=head conservatives to align themselves with “news sources” that already echo what they hold to be true, regardless of the veracity of that belief.

For instance, peruse this example that Shetter considers to be a pinnacle of intellectual enlightenment:

As I’ve oft said before I won’t speak for you of course, but I for one, love it when the wackadoos play all their classic hits. A shadowy and unnamed cabal working against Americans? You bet. A vaguely referenced alliance between corrupt entities, presented without one shred of evidence? Would you expect anything less? And in an unpublicized move nobody saw coming, except everybody with a brain that is, there’s even a cameo from eternal conservative boogeyman, Barrack Obama!

And the joy of seeing all of this previously concealed information being exposed by a guy who looks like a golf store salesman, in front of what I can only assume, is a shower curtain from Bed Bath & Beyond? That alone, is worth its weight in chilled Ding Dongs, let me tell you.

So, let’s recap: “Crooked democrats” have “evidence”, that the Republicans don’t (?), but “held back”, because “Obama put them in jail!” I may not be a Neurologist, but I’d have to surmise that oi a certified one ever manages to crack open Shetter’s cranium, the neurological pathways that convey his thought process probably looks like a vegan lasagna that’s been assembled inside a concrete mixer. 

I don’t know how to explain this to Shetter and the rest of the dumbf**ks who believe that vlog-casts taped in a free corned of somebody’s garage, count as reputable journalism, but if such a conspiracy existed, its demise would not come qt the hands pf persons who dress as if they’re attending a PTA meeting. Not to mention, if there was indeed a corrupt alliance between media and the intelligence community, this video, and the numerous others that are sadly like it, would never have seen the light of the day, in the first place.

Sorry, Dick, but in the end, you and your tin-foil-wrapped conservative crew aren’t ‘exposing” spit. Other than your obliviousness, gullibility, and the shallow depth of the gene pool you slithered out of, that is. But keep your chins up, nonetheless. One day, you’ll discover that walking upright for you would be far easier, if you ever manage to stop carrying the dead weight of all that stupidity, or it will eventually crush you.

Either way, it’s a win for our side.

However, winning really isn’t an attribute that conservatives possess in the slightest, unless of course, they shamedly legislate their way into it. While this may it be outwardly obvious to persons like Shetter, it is most definitively clear whereas the rest of us are concerned, and the litany of their well-earned failures eats at their self-worth as if it were salt poured upon a slug, which quite possibly, the most apt analogy I could use to rationalize their ideological need to chastise unfounded boogeymen.  

Once again, I present personal mental dysfunction, poorly disguised as political commentary:
At the rate these disciples of academic deficiency are stacking their imaginary grievances, this former and yet still-respected US president, will probably start getting blamed for causing the Holocaust next. I mean… the last time I saw middle-aged White men obsess over an African-American this much, was when they thought that they could finally humble-brag about having a Black friend in the personage of Kanye West.

Well, 3/5 of one, anyway.

So, as I do with all things contrived from equal parts bullspit and the conspiracy-laden masturbatory fodder of conservatism, let me just dig into this cravenly safe space as it were, and expose its fetid interior to the purity of data-driven daylight. And we’ll start with the first topic on Shetter’s invented laundry list of paranoia, since it’s also one of the most erroneous.

“Before Obama we had no ISIS!”
For the uninitiated, ISIS is the acronym for the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria), and is also known as ISIL, or the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant. It self-identifies as a Sunni jihadist caliphate, with a predominantly vehement political ideology, claiming religious authority over all Muslims. It draws inspiration from similarly motivated contemporizes al-Qaida, despite the latter’s public expulsion of it.

Unfortunately for the strength of Shetter’s narrative, the majority of scholars knowledgeable in the political history of the consistently turbulent Middle East, agree that the group formed as a response to the 2003 US invasion of Iraq. For those of you who can do math, that’s SIX YEARS BEFORE Obama was sworn in as President, but I’m sure Shetter will find a way to “prove’ that such information is somehow irrelevant in regards to his asinine assertion.

And besides… we all know that Obama was responsible for green-lighting Highlander 2, and no one should ever forgive him for that. Especially Michael Ironside.

“Before Obama we had no BLM!”
But we still had White supremacy, inherent racism, and racial disparity in regards to education, banking, job and economic opportunities, along with definable inequality in criminal sentencing, which are literally the things that BLM pushes back against as well,s o what exactly, is your f**king point?

Are you annoyed that them there “coloreds” are getting all uppity in that blob of rancid marzipan that you call a face, or is that you can’t abide African-Americans being allowed to do white people stuff without police intervention? Nah., that couldn’t be the reason, right? After all, as a middle-aged White man living in a state that has fewer Black people in it than there are to be found at a Trump rally, I’m sure that your appreciation of different cultures is just as strong as your acceptance of the Transgender commubity.

Oh wait…

For the record, BLM, pr Black Lives Matter was founded in 2013 as a social justice movement, after a dickless guntard known as George Zimmerman, was acquitted for his role in murdering African-American teen Trayvon Martin, who had neither committed a crime, nor possessed upon his person any form of dangerous weapon, unless you consider a bag of Skittles as felonious. I for one don’t, and I just so happen to be, a full-blown Type-1 Diabetic.

Zimmernan for his spart, would go on to suffer additional scrapes with the law, ranging from traffic violations to threatening others with (what else) guns, but has always found himself suffering no consequences as a result of his actions that in all reality, would get persons of color executed like a dog in the street. But remember, it’s that nattering Negro that was the real social cancer in America, kids.

Spurious Goerge, who has all the spine one would find in jellyfish, would also attempt to forge a side career of sorts for himself, appearing at gun shows, where he would gleefully sign Confederate flags and bags of Skittles, for other testicle-free sociopaths like himself, which just goes to show us all what happens when you consistently abuse yourself using gun oil, versus the far-safer alternative of hand cream.

So, as you can see, the bad guy is obviously Obama, and not the two parboiled chunks of racist lard depicted here, grinning as if they’ve just bought a t-shirt commemorating a lynching.

Just a side note Dick- the actual mission of BLM, not that you care to have your bigotry deflated, is, and I quote; “To eradicate white supremacy and build local power to intervene in violence inflicted on Black communities by the state and vigilantes. By combating and countering acts of violence, creating space for Black imagination and innovation, and centering Black joy, we are winning immediate improvements in our lives.”

Yup… you can definitely see the handiwork of Obama all over that statement, can’t you/ the nerve of these people wanting to abolish White supremacy- have they not thought what would happen to the Trump memorabilia vendors if they wound up educating his base? Hell, red hat sales and racist meme production would plummet overnight.

“Before Obama we had no ANTFA!”
Actually Dick, yes, we did. Back in the day, it was called the United States military, and we used it to handedly defeat Adolf Hitler in 1945.In the present age, it’s a group that actively opposes all forms of fascism. Described by American sociologist, political writer, novelist, and cultural commentator Todd Gitlin, as “a defensive response to the growing presence of right-wing extremism”, it is in simpler terms, the social antidote to what Shetter’s misinformation so disturbingly represents.

Nevertheless, who’s to say that being ideologically on the same side as those who tried unsuccessfully to usurp democracy is a bad thing? In spite of everything that Shetter has posted and believes, I still want him to have close friends with similar interests, and you know it’s just a matter of time before someone in that collective group of sentient urinal cakes, suggest that they do something that’ll almost certainly thin the herd among their ranks. Like going to an indoor rally without masks, by way of example

Roll the dice kids, for adventure awaits, as does an eventual ventilator.

“Before Obama we had no war on cops!”
This statement, on the surface at least, is entirely true. At the time of Obama’s initial inauguration there was no “war” on cops. In a weird twist of coincidence, until he got elected, there was also no “war” on Christmas, hot dogs, Dr, Seuss, masculinity, hamburgers, Styrofoam, plastic straws, Thanksgiving, small business, parenting, personal privacy, the parameters of gender, religion, billionaires, Western (White) culture, and as always, White men who wear red hats,

And yes, these actually are topics that at one point or another, Conservative media seriously claimed to be under a siege of Leftist attacks, depending on whatever lie they happened to be pushing at that moment. With that knowledge in hand, I can reasonably assume then, that the “war” on cops must be just as valid as the one that conservatives declared was being waged against soda.

According to former police officer and assistant law professor at the University of South Carolina, Seth Stoughton; who has been scrutinizing compiled date regarding police fatalities collected over several decades; “When we’re talking about 780,000 state and local police officers who are interacting with people on 67 million occasions every year, the increase from five to eight, or five to 10- statistically, it doesn’t look significant,”

Further corroboration of this assessment, is provided by the graph below, which shows that as a rule, the number of what are considered felonious deaths has actually remained fairly consistent over the years.

Ironically, the numbers took a slight jump during Trump’s failure-failed tenure, although that could be simply attributed to his followers assuming that being White gave then immunity from prosecution. That’s a small joke obviously, but the data available quite directly sates that there is no “war” on cops, despite the screeching of Shetter and his inane ilk, saying that there is.

However, despite all that I’ve dissected thus far, it’s collective density pales in comparison to Shetter’s last alleged “point’ contained within his posted declaration pf abject absurdity, and let’s be honest with ourselves, if we may, because that’s saying a lot, given the evidence of his failed schooling. And you know he’s really serious, because he felt the need to signify his lack of intelligence by iodizing the calling card of morons far and wide… ALL-CAPS.

AND IN BOLD, NO LESS!!!

“BEFORE OBAMA THIS COUNTRY WASN’T AS DIVIDED AS IT IS NOW! “
You heard it here first, boys and girls- Obama, the Great Divider, who had the audacity to serve as our 44th President, despite knowing he was African-American, is responsible for all, yes all, of the divisional strife that this once unblemished country finds itself currently suffering from. I can’t speak for others of my generation, but finding all of this out now in my middle-ages, comes off as almost a relief.

Knowing that four hundred years of treating African-Americans as of they were like cattle, the rise and continued existence of White supremacy groups, the implementation of of Jim Crow and other purposely intentional racist exclusionary policies, banning interracial marriage, as well as access to educational, financial, and economic opportunities, are, in situ and in total, the sole fault of Barrack Obama.

Sure, some of you may remember being taught in your high school history class, the social upheaval occurring in the decades between the 1950’s and the late1970’s, and the racial turbulence that arrived with it, but I can’t see how that’s even plausible, given the strength of Shetter’s non-evidence regarding the exact opposite of what has already been noted as incontrovertible to begin with.

Shetter’s blatantly wretched whitewashing [yeah, I said it] of who’s really at fault for the ongoing racial tension within this country, goes far beyond the standard vehement vileness generally attributed to chuckleheads like himself, especially when one remembers the negative reactions that far too many Conservatives had to the unforeseen possibility that a Black man might actually achieve the highest office in the land.

A wave of bigoted butt-hurt, that as you can plainly see, resulted in some truly tolerant discourse:

All that’s missing from this particularly revolting celebration of all that occurs when you lose your virginity to either your sister or a spur of the moment encounter with a just-baked apple pie, is the inference that it would probably be best if a group of upright citizens could find both a twelve-foot-tall tree, and a four-foot length of rope in order to protect the womenfolk Fortunately for Shetter’s narrative, since it’s Obama who’s the true racist, no such proposition would ever be seen on the horizon. And secure in this understanding, I really couldn’t be any happier about it.

Oh wait, what’s this?

Well. This is awkward…

“No such proposition would ever be seen on the horizon” Just feel free to toss that stupid as f**k opinion of mine out the proverbial goddamn window, when you get a chance, because the fact remains that nearly five years out from his last day in office, the conservative bigoted butthurt continues, unabated. It should come as no surprise to anyone that world leaders are the subject of death threats emanating from a wide variety of mentally decrepit twits, but the ones that were (and still are) directed at Obama were still unique nonetheless, given their racist underpinnings.

Stereotypically depicted aa an ape, a big-eared monkey, an unintelligent connoisseur of fried chicken and watermelon, Obama’s detractors not only revealed their cravenness in regards to social change, they inadvertently sank their own shakily positioned “Republicans aren’t racist” falsehood to boot. But let’s not forget, that the very same people who are totally cool with actual NAZI’s lauding Donals Trump, openly and aggressively contend that it’s definitively Obama who’s really the one fueling the forge of racism.

For the sake of clarity, if not actionable legalities, I cannot definably prove or disprove for that matter, what racial proclivities Shetter may or may not possess, but I do know this- if you come off as perceiving that BLM or Antifa are a formable threat to both your westernized culture or and social position, the odds are probably better than average, that you’re just a pair of khakis and a bargain-basement Tiki Torch away from becoming a localized problem. Just saying.

However, Shetter’s delusional fever-dreams don’t just stop at inferring that Obama is a terrorist-enabling, racist, riot-causing, anti-cop anarchist, he’s gotta ratchet that crazy dial up to twelve, because his buddy Ruth Darlene Seawolf, found hers cranked up to 11, when she once posted that Lady GaGa was, and I am not making this up, part of a Satanic cult that practices blood sacrifice.

Oh, and Tom Hanks, portrayer of Mr. Rogers, America’s resident nice guy? He, (according to a posting by RSD) is a pedophile, who was arrested in Australia a while back, backed up by photographic “proof” gleaned off the Internet. You know, the most trustworthy of sources where you can not only find a dope-ass recipe for potato candy, but Photoshopped “evidence” of Obama hanging out with Che Guevara, who died in October of 1967 when Obama was only six years old?

Nevertheless, Shetter managed to not only strip Ruth of her previously held blue ribbon for slander, he actually managed to surpass her indignantly cray-cray cat-lady vibe as well, which to be honest, I didn’t think anybody else could do, unless they underwent either a lobotomy or a serious stroke, first. And for the lightning round, he managed to hijack the memory of an unfortunate murder, just so he had an excuse to touch himself:The young woman nauseatingly named as a victim of sexual assault by Obama, is notated here by Shetter as one Carol Pintre Rose, or depending on what crazy “Q” Twitter feed you follow, possibly “Maggie Nix”;

Which, may I say, is a truly interesting notation, given that NO SUCH PERSON WAS LISTED AMONG THE VICTIMS. Weird, that. It’s almost as if she was invented out of desperation and wretchedness, huh?

Rose, who was among the tabulated victims, was murdered in cold blood along with eight other innocents, six of whom were children, when the Mormon caravan she was traveling with, found itself ambushed within the Mexican State of Sonora- an act perpetuated by a Mexican drug cartel that was, at the time, battling for territorial control against its supposed rival.

While this in and of itself is truly horrific, my personal feeling of righteous contempt is compounded even further by not only the prevalent theory that the caravan was an inadvertent victim of mistaken identity, but Shetter’s cringey crassness in seizing this tragedy, to spew yet another baseless, heartless, morally repugnant, and entirely crackpot, conspiracy theory.

Normally, I would tell such a failure of a condoms tear resistance, to go f**k themselves, but since Shetter I’m sure, is used to doing so quite consistently out of personal need, the nest best thing on the checklist of hopeful eternal outcomes to hope for, is that when he finally gets to Hell, Satan’s minions anally violate him 24/7 with a razor-studded and sandpaper wrapped, set of mechanized dildos, that don’t vibrate, so much as they spin in place.   

I’ve often made the joke about a person belling literally the living embodiment of “human pudding skin”, but now I think I’d have to go one step beyond that limited descriptive, and directly state that Shetter is far more likely to be regarded as the walking personification of a pus-filled Durian fruit, floating becalmed within an ocean of rancid mayonnaise, and topped with *Hákarl slices, imported from Iceland.  
*[Decomposed Shark Carcass]

But since I am known for playing Devil’s Advocate far more than I should, I decided to yet again, do the research that Shetter couldn’t be bothered to undertake, and strove to find the beginning thread for this sweater of inanity, using the resources of the very technological entity that Shetter obviously avoids whenever he finds himself cruising the Internet with his one truly free hand. Come for the sarcasm, stay for the onanism jokes, as I always like to say.

First, I tried entering the following uncomfortable phrase: “Maggie Nix was sexually abused by Obama”, and this was the result:

Damnit. It looks as If I’m too late- the Deep State has obviously wiped the Internet clean of the “truth”, once more. But I still had a card to play, and so I did, consequences of the mind ray be damned:

Frak.as Starbuck on Battlestar Galactica was fond of saying. Frak my life. Frak it hard. Clearly, the assembled forces of the Illuminati were at work here, so I decide to take another tack- I searched fo the photo (minus Obama) to see if I could trace the original source for its inception, and as I did, this interesting anomaly popped up:

Does it strike anyone else as odd, that a personal photo of a small child with a person who would later become the future president of the US, has no definable source? Granted at the time, Obama was simply just a senator, bit the person who felt the need to take this shot, never felt the necessity to toss it up on any social media platform layer on to brag about their seed-spawn hanging with the big dog?

And this, in an age where people showcase their morning coffee almost every day? Sure, Jan.

Not many people know this about me, but my original birth name was “Resolute”, which my parents had legally changed just before I attended Kindergarten, due to my father’s concern that mu logo was too similar to the one copyrighted by Rolls Royce, and feared that I sued for infringement. However, the qualities attached to the name stuck, so with this in mind, I plunged in even deeper, and discovered yet another twist in this theory’s twisted rabbit warren of logic:

Hold the phone… there’s now a THIRD name involved? Aee these twits suggesting that Maggie Nix and Rhonita Maria miller are the same person? I personally don’t think so, bit anything is possible whereas these cracked loons are concerned. And as a side note, is the kids last name “Nix”, or “Nixon”? This sort of sloppiness regarding the fine details you lunkheads, is why your Asinine Tales of Amazement, fall apart fatter than the will of Donald Trump’s fidelity at the AVN Awards.

Therefore, let’s recap what we’ve sort of discovered together. The first African-American to become US President, is a sexual predator in the same alleged vein as Matt Gaetz and Donald Trump, and subtly arranged for his singular victim to be silenced, but only after he got out of the protective cover of the Oval Office, and not before, because that makes…. um, perfect sense?

A weakly defined plot I can overlook. Bad acting/ I can always mock. Heck,- I own “Xanadu; the Director’s Cut” on Blu-ray and VHS for Christ’s sakes, but incompetent writing as well? That I’m afraid, is truly unforgiveable. However, when one takes into account that Shetter’s ideology currently views sexual predators the very same way that   the same perceive an underage crowd around an ice cream truck, Shetter’s desperate flail at deflective subterfuge becomes even more pathetically wretched.

Shetter can rant about coverups all that he likes, as being crazy is almost a respectfully held quality at this point in our increasing screwed-up country, but he can’t subvert the obvious; no matter who’s acting as the man behind the curtain as it were. The Truth always finds its way out. If Shetter really does think that a suiting president could be an alleged sexual predator, and get away scot-free, the he’s got far more marbles rattling free than previously ascribed.

Oops. My bad. I forgot that can happen when you’re the color of an Oompa-Loompa, buy not so much when you’re the color of the main product it makes. And no matter what political movement discovered the truth of such, they would spread it like Melania Trump at a home for aging billionaires, either for power, or political capital, and Shetter knows that.

Regardless, if indeed there truly is a Hell that awaits him, my only wish for Shetter’s eternity paying for the sins of constructing falsehoods such as these, is that when God kicks his slug ass into it, I hope he gets passed around the Demons outhouses, as if he were a carton of black-market prison cigarettes, Actually, I take that back. as the Fallen have at this pout, suffered more than enough.

Nevertheless, this odious example of what happens when you allow the human analog for a genital wart unconstrained access to the Internet, also showcases what abject f**king stupidity can be disseminated when someone who’s known for consistently overtalking without overthinking, watches too much Q-based porn on his mom’s cell phone. While I don’t truly understand Conservatives’ eternally evolving obsession with Obama past the reality of his being an African-American that they can’t best or corral, their need to paint him as a reprehensible societal monster does however, make sense.

That is, if your logic is based on the retweaked radius of a f**ked-up Fibonacci curve.

But what is the real motivation behind this campaign of delusional; demagoguery? It’s actually quite simple, really. There’s an old maxim [incorrectly attributed to NAZI Propaganda Minister Joeseph Goebbels] that says; “Accuse the other side of that which you are guilty of”, and to a very disturbing degree, it still holds a fair amount of water, due to the fact that who among us, doesn’t enjoy feeling superior to those we despise? .

And Conservatives as a rule, openly despise a lot of people. Not because those chosen for such derision are themselves “bad” people, as you’d logically surmise, but for being quite the opposite to begin with. Whereas we laud scientists and social change activists, they instead, fete murderers such as Kyle Rittenhouse, as they spin their alternate realty within their repeated cosplay of the 1935 Nuremberg rally.

Don’t believe me? Just recall the Thunberg vs. Rittenhouse meme discussed earlier, and as you do, please ponder what kind of deep-fried brain could come up with this take regarding a man of admirable decency:

For the record, this is the former not so great President Jimmy Carter, who, despite being in his 90’s still goes out into the world, and builds housing for the homeless, as trump pouts at Mar-a-Lago, demanding that people give him that which he does not deserve or has earned- the respect of others. But Shetter isn’t content with picking on an esteemed Nonagenarian, he’s also gotta go after a person who despite his military service, charitable contributions, and lack of any credible evidence, Shetter not only regards as corrupt, but whom he slurs as yet another pedophile, because of course he must:

If I ever needed an example of personal cringe, this would be on of the strong contenders for the position. Not only does it start off with the wrong presentation of tense [“He” vs “He’s”] that Shetter is known for, his laziness in not being able to competently craft an original meme from scratch is on full display as well. Jesus, Dick- if this is your idea of a “gotchja”, I can fully understand why any inventive thought that wanders randomly onto that melon you call a head, dies almost immediately from intellectual starvation.

So in review, Shatter, a man whose ideological leader, a self-admitted predator of women, and according to several sources, allegedly children as well, and who has also been directly connected through either business or personal association with no less than five prominent pedophiles, and without a shred of actual definable evidence to support his sniveling slights decided that a revolting series of online cravenness was the best way to draw heat away from his Mango man-crush, and his known foibles.

Truly, a strategy so brilliant, that even Shetter himself, didn’t understand it.

It just has to suck when you’re forced to defend your role models, and the best offensive plan that you can come up with to protect them is by saying; “Well, that’s just circumstantial evidence, so it doesn’t’; really count.” I’m fairly confident that I can use that approach to great benefit the next time my GF asks me just why the not Latina barista at my local coffeehouse, felt comfortable enough to flirt with me directly in front of her. Not gonna lie- I’ like my odds here.

In summation, the demographic of disingenuous degenerates that Shetter so earnestly carries the flag for, doesn’t necessitate their fantastical boogeyman because they fear the success of said entities, they require them, because they refuse to accept the burdening weight of their own collective failures. Hence, the reason why they’re so desperate to point their finger at someone, anyone, that they can paint as the “real” moral or social deviant.

Currently the former Trump administration has racked up quite the A-list in regards to pending criminal indictments, personal lawsuits regarding sexual inappropriateness, a history making occurrence of not one, but two, presidential impeachments, along with a host of other legal issues that until Trump was sadly elected, shared more in common with an organized crime family, then one engaged in politics.

To back this accurate assertion of mine up, I provided this 2018 graphic tabulating [at that time] the track records of criminality and the consequences resulting from such, for each prior administration.

Given the fact that this information is four years out of date, and due to the events of January Sixth, additional charges, cases, and convictions are most assuredly to follow suit.

But Obama and his associates are the ones that will soon see themselves locked up, am I correct? You know, right after the Supreme Court reinstates Trump as President, as the My Pillow guy claims will happen? Eventually, Someday, Down the road. Wherever he can manage to set those ever-changing goalposts of his. This sense of mistaken optimism, hilarious as it is, must be the reason why Shetter so confidently posts this tripe, instead of debating valid political policies that he disagrees with.

When I was a kid, I, like any other four-year-old, had a boogeyman, much like Shetter has now, but I stopped believing in all that nonsense once I realized that my Scrooge of a fatter, would never have allowed anyone or anything to live in our house, rent-free, even if it was inside my closet or under my bed.

Seriously. Growing up, I was always curious as to how our cat managed to get a corner pf the living room all to himself, without having to sign over at least three of his nine lives. But when it comes to your typical conservative smiting their deeply entrenched terrors concerning that which they choose not to understand, their coping mechanism is seemingly just to change who the monster under their beds is.

Whereas in the past, it was either minorities, Gays, Women, Liberals, or coffee cups that don’t have Jesus printed on them, the supply-chain of all that they feared and hated while limited, was still effectively efficient at keeping the sheep perpetually riled up. However, the situation is quite different now, and as it has been noted by more than a few, Time marches on, even when the Conservative’s way of thinking hasn’t.

Along with the list of previously referenced imaginary adversaries, the modern-day conservative movement has added, diversity-preaching companies, the NFL, differing viewpoints, non-Christian religions, Media in general, the “Deep State”, practitioners of Science and Medicine, and let’s not dismiss teachers, schools, and in some cases, even the students themselves, if they dare demand the convenience of not to be slaughtered wholesale while attending class.

Truly worthy foes, even if they are invented from the paranoiac ether of the cravenly candy-assed. And don’t you worry- just because the Fanta Fascist you sexually flagellate yourself to, has a well-verified track record of graft, corruption, perversion, treason, adultery, and incompetence going back decades, doesn’t mean that you can’t outright ignore it, or better yet, project such onto your self-created enemies as I noted earlier.

After all, it’s not like anyone expects credible validity from people who believe that there’s nanotech in their vaccine shot, while ignoring the fact that their cell phone is a far more effective tracking beacon that not only do they carry around willingly, happily feeding it all the data that it needs to know and/or predict, almost every intimate detail of their formerly private lives. 

Now, while the GQP’s obvious disdain for Obama presents almost as if he collectively dumped these MAGAts on the night of their Prom, he’s not their only unfounded obsession. Not by a long shot. Former Secretary of State, and current wife of former President Bill Clinton, Hillary Rodham Clinton, is on that ever-expanding list too, and as is the case with most pf their rallying jabbering points, their hard-on for hypocrisy is on full display, despite the fragility of White privilege underwriting it:

And there’s no better way to make a conservative pup his top, quite like pointing out that Hillary walks free among us, loving her best life, as their tinted messiah sits brooding in a pool of his own dime-store bronzer, hoping tor a; last-second Hail Mary pass to pull his sorry ass out of the dumpster fire that he started. Although, if that’s what he was banking on, he probably shouldn’t have sexually assaulted Mary to begin with, as she tends to hold on to things like that.

Bu Shetter, undaunted by the glaringly harsh spotlight of reality, if not inevitably, still  posted this”

I’d happily point out to Shetter here and now, that in order to throw someone in jail, you actually need to provide incontrovertible proof of their committing a crime first, which is why out guys will still be sipping Mimosas on a beach, as your mango Mussolini gets forcibly fitted for a jumpsuit that matches his skin tone, watching helplessly as Melania drains his secret bank accounts, and Ivanka makes up lame excuses as to why she can’t come visit him,

I do love though, how Shetter claims that the “the evidence is blatantly clear against Hillary and Obama”, yet for some reason, can’t produce either the said evidence of crimes, nor state crimes they’ve supposedly committed to begin with. This by the way, is a fairly consistent tactic among conservatives, that being, to brand a falsehood as truth, rant endlessly regarding it, assure that “all will be revealed” in time, and when finally pressed to back up the validity of their cravenly contrivance, claim that it’s a vast conspiracy, either too well-hidden, and/or too powerful, to successfully expose.

Hypocritically, Shetter doesn’t seem to mind when his tax dollars are being misappropriated to go after Liberal targets or the social causes that he loathes, as Trump did ever so guilelessly, but as has been established beyond reproach, Shetter’s overall intellect, makes a bag of potato tots academically akin to Stephen Hawking. Far funnier, if I were to be so frank, is the fact that Shetter truly thinks that dirt has to be “dug up” where Trump, a man who openly admits to crimes during media interviews, is concerned.

Let’s call a jackass a jackass, shall we, for “finding” dirt on Trump is as measurably difficult as finding a weed dealer at a Phish concert. Literally, all one has to do, is either cue up his greatest hits via YouTube, or just wait for his latest appearance on OAN to air. I’m starting to think that when this nightmare is finally over, it’ll be due to his writing a tell-all book reiterating his crimes, which after its completion, he then dutifully autographed just before sending those copies to the prosecutors he’d eventually face in court.

Free speech is, at its core, one of the most effectively powerful weapons citizens have to even the, metaphorical playing field, but in the ever so undersized hands of America’s angriest Creamsicle, it only serves as the reason as to why his defense attorneys drink themselves into a coma almost every day. I’m no lawyer obviously, but I can only assume what level of fear his must experience, whenever they see a crawl on TV promoting yet another of his sure to be deceitful, meltdowns.

Now, when it comes to the act and art of disintegrating in full view of the general public, nobody does it better than the modern-day conservative base, let me tell you. Whether it’s a prominent Republican politico avoiding a question about January Sixth, or an irrelevant MAGAt screaming at the sky, the GQP, it can be said, is definitely not sending their best. Mind you that’s just me extending the charitable notion that they actually had some persons of nobility at one point, but I digress,

As anyone who’s been paying attention already knows, open and truly free civil discourse, has become not only the latest archenemy pf conservatism and its leadership in general, but also excellently serves as yet another brick in the wall of their self-declared martyrdom as well, because once again, it must. You can’t cosplay as an eternal victim of cruel fate, if it turns out you’re actually the aggressor, now, can you?

Despite the bogosity of their assertions that they’re being consistently censored whereas social media is concerned, the opposite is quite true, according to Paul Barrett, deputy director of the NYU Stern Center for Business and Human Rights, whose report titled; “False Accusation: The Unfounded Claim that Social Media Companies Censor Conservatives,” determined evidentially, that rather than expurgating the right wing’s ideological POV, the top social media platforms instead, disseminated it even father.

To quote Barnett; “Republicans, or more broadly conservatives, have been spreading a form of disinformation on how they’re treated on social media. They complain they’re censored and suppressed but, not only is there no evidence to support that, what evidence exists actually cuts in the other direction.

“There is a broad campaign going on from the right to argue that they’re being silenced or cast aside, and that spirit is what is helping to feed the extremism that we are seeing in our country right now. We can’t just allow that to be a debating point. It’s not legitimate. It’s not supported by the facts.”

Unsurprisingly, the professional victims brigade that is the conservative monument doesn’t’; (of course) see it that way, because as is stereotypical with this inane ilk, proven facts are far outweighed by their biased and unfounded feelings of being personally persecuted for their dogma of dipsh***ery.

A precis best summed up by Conservative author Denise McAllister, who, along with being just flatly incorrect on the issue at hand, has also proposed that social media platforms stop moderating the content posted, saying in a USA Today interview, that: “This is a platform, right? You don’t need to act like mama Twitter or mama Facebook. Just let people say what they are going to say, whether it’s true, false, whatever. You have to just trust the people as individuals and not to try to impose power because you are going to do it inconsistently.”

Well, this is truly refreshing, is it not? The porty of “Law and Order”, unless it’s principles are being applied to them, and of “Family Values”, unless they get caught starting one with an underaged mistress, are the true defenders of Free Speech, and don’t want anyone’s ideology questioned pr challenged, and this conviction, rooted in their steadfast belief that the sharing of ideas must be freely expressed without any form of limitation placed upon them, is unshakable. Thinks of it as the hardest of moral bedrock.

Unless of course, those philosophies are elucidated by others that they’re opposed to, then all’s fair in love and war, as it were, for as it has been sadly established, hypocrites are gonna hypocrite, and God help anyone who gets in the way of that, by daring to use reality in the manner it was intended for. As it is with the majority of societal causes and concerns that conservatives align themselves with, escape clauses and loopholes, are not so much add-ons, as they are built-ins.

For them, exceptions are the rule, and its almost a certainty that if they’re pointing a finger at you, the other seven are probably engaged in trying to cover something up. While they’re quite fond of posting that “They wouldn’t need to censor us if we were wrong”, I would strongly disagree. Given the events of the last five years, I’d suggest that the argument could easily be made that false information, disseminated directly into the brains of the intellectually constrained, can be just as dangerous as a Catholic priest given free reign at a Boy Scout jamboree.

With no due respect, my flatulent firebrands, assessing one’s statements for accuracy is not now, nor has it ever has been, any form of censorship- things are either true, or they’re not. It really is that simple. So Is it all that shocking really, that these disciples of an ideology of idiocy that labeled COVID as a hoax, regards mask protocol as implemented communism, and continues pushing their false narrative concerning non-existent voter fraud as gospel, would be so stalwartly resolute in pushing back against having their asinine assertions fact-checked?

What’s even more troubling for conservatives though, is not the fact that their fictious fantasies are being taken to task, for regardless of the sheer delusion they contain, their base will swallow it without any sense of refutation. No, what truly enrages them, is their being held to account for these damnable deflections, as these two postings clearly demonstrate:Dagnabit! Where am I going to go now, if I need up to the minute information on imaginary terrorists, Jewish Space lasers, and pizzerias that serve milkshakes made from the blood of trafficked children? Oh, that’s right, I still have Lauren Boebert and about 20 other members of the cray-cray caucus to rely on. Whew. For a second there, I was kind of worried.

I love, yet again, how Shetter manages to not only mangle the English language as he displays his stunning ignorance in regards to exactly what the First Amendment, in point of fact defines, but how he assumes his erroneous characterization of such, has no boundaries to speak of.  And as a side note, if you’re going to call others stupid, you should probably use the correct word to do it.

That would be “taking”, by the way. Glad to help, as usual. But Dick isn’t done embarrassing himself just quite yet. After all, he’s got a job to do, and that apparently, is reminding us all what Twitter’s “job” is, even of he doesn’t know what that is himself. Remember that one dumbass kid in your neighborhood who jumped off his roof because he thought if he was wearing a Superman cape he could fly? Well, this is what happens when they grow up to be adults:To note, this is what the First Amendment actually says:  “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.”

Read that again if you must, for it specifically only puts one body of people in check- that being, the Federal Government, and no one else. What that means, for those of you who failed Civics class and require an explanation, is that the only singularity, either real or imagined, that can be held legally liable for curtailing your freedom of speech, is the authoritative powers that oversee this Republic.

AND THAT IS IT. END OF DISCUSSION, AND YOUR INTELLECTUALLY LIMITED “DEBATE”.

Private companies are not subject to the parameters of the First Amendment, which is why you’re not allowed to openly comment on your immediate supervisor’s persistent predilection for being a jackass. And if you believe that they are, I can see now why you’re the one currently assembling my Big Mac to go. By way of example, I proudly hold the distinction (like Trump) of being banned from Twitter for life, due to my penchant for, and I  swear this is true, calling out TV’s “Hercules” Kevin Sorbo, Tom “garage sale Barbie” Lahren, and of course, various White supremacy groups, for their abominable stupidity…

Although come to think of it, I could have just written “craven Caucasians”, instead of their descriptive, and those v=bases would still have been covered fully. And guess what? I didn’t rant about it. I didn’t call the ACLU, or my local news station, demanding airtime regarding it.. More importantly, I didn’t ho online and embarrass myself by showing that I had no idea what the laws of my country entailed, either.

Unless you have a time machine, albeit in the form of a TARDIS, a DeLorean, or the phone booth from Bill & Ted’s Excellent adventure, along with a truly solid sales pitch to convince Thomas Jefferson that he needs to make some oddly specific editorial choices regarding technology that hasn’t been invented yet, the online oracles that you so wish would bend to your will, are going to continue in their mission to inadvertently annoy you something fierce.

Along with Shetter’s refusal; to acknowledge why these two Twittering twats were suspended from the platform in the first place, which centers on their jointly and egregiously violating the clearly defined terms set forth in the user agreements they WILLINGY AGREED TO, his curious negation of any mention of the similarly parsed terms of service for Trump’s so-called “Free Speech” site, AKA: Truth Social, which, if the past is any indicator, will be just another abortive enterprise on his already overflowing pyre of personal impotence, is most certainly a personal tell of sorts.

Specifically, the terms of service for Trump’s latest attempt to refine a controllable source of political Viagra for himself, state that its users may not “disparage, tarnish, or otherwise harm, in our opinion, us and/or the Site”, which other than being purposefully vague, if not arbitrary at best, sort of put a kibosh on that whole “open and truly free dialogue” marketing campaign that the Hair Fuhrer is spreading by using other people’s money for.

But in the end, Trump’s ignorant base of slack-jawed lard-slabs like Shetter, don’t really care about that obvious hypocrisy, as all they truly want to glean from their miasma of mental moribundity, is the most fortified of intelligence-barren echo chambers, safe from the harsh veracities of the dismal stench of accumulated personal failures, if not the world itself, which regards them less as a political movement, and more of a cautionary tale about the downside of having unnatural relations with your siblings.

And the unintentionally hilarious side-effect of this clusterf**k of a Facebook wannabe? For all their “Fk FB” talk, not one of these mindless incel inbreds will actually leave the Land of Zuckerberg, because without their made-up enemies to directly engage with, they most assuredly, have no purpose in life. Look at it this way- if everybody on Earth held hands, and darted singing “Kumbaya”, my career, if not my second-most favorite hobby would be as dead as Mike Pence attending a January Sixth cosplay.

For these people, lack of conflict would surely be a Hell on Earth, although to be fair, observing a Trump rally from the inside as someone who reads books and not hats, might qualify as a close second.

Speaking of which, if I had to assign a penalty for every fabricated fiction that Shetter circulates as if he were seeding a garden of the ignorant, not only would he find himself locked in Hell’s library, taking an eternal Civics class, I’d also make sure that along with only a non-alphabetized card catalog to aid him, a lower-level demon of annoyance would be on hand to remove the bookmark from his required reading whenever he’s not looking, so that he has to start from scratch all over again.

Nevertheless, Shetter and the rest of his cuckolded Trumpanzees cabal if given the chance, would have no such hesitation on dropping the metaphorical guillotine blade on the necks of those of who stand in their way, and we should never forget this, even if it’s only for a second. Unsurprisingly, persons who grant thugs, murderers, sexual predators, and abusers of supreme power grotesque status as cultural heroes, are, as a rule, the very last people you want running a hot dog stand, much less an all-too-powerful government.

This is not to say however, that Shetter himself couldn’t efficaciously play a crucial role in such a dystopian future, as it’s always been my credo that everyone, regardless of their ability or intelligent, has a part to play. Unfortunately, whereas Shetter may be concerned, I don’t think there will ever arise the true need for a pulled-pork sandwich that can talk, so his current calling as an amateur Uncle Fester impersonator, may be the wisest career choice that he’ll ever make.

Because as only mythical God knows, he can’t rely on his inability to pick a f**ing winner, to make bank.   

“There’s nothing wrong with being a loser, it just depends on how good you are at it.”
– Billie Joe Armstrong

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Rhapsody in View. (Into the Deep Blue “Z”)

*DISCLAIMER: This screed of the moment, contains content from wiythin the Netflix series “Love, Death and Robots”, as well as transcript dialogue of one episode in particular, AKA: “Zima Blue”.

I do not own any copyrights held in regards to this property, and therefore, its inclusion here, is solely for entertainment purposes only, and without any intention of securing personal profit, so please don’t sue me, Netflix. On a side note, thus series kicks serious ass, and your stand-alone and non-related movie, “Gunpowder Milkshake” was pretty goddamn good too.]

“Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue, and the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true.” – Judy Garland

Greetings, Bitchiteers!

Today’s screed is going to be a little bit off my beaten track. Less snark. Minimal sarcasm. And in a surprise twist worthy of M. Night Shyamalan, it’ll be closing with a hopeful outlook, no less. No, I’m not dying, nor am I under the influence of the Deep State mind-control rays, either. In fact, I’m feeling kind of blue. Zima Blue, to be exact.

And besides, ever since I bought that tinfoil helmet off Amazon, I’ve been feeling a lot better about life in general, even with the recently acquired knowledge that my toaster has been spying on me for the CIA, for months now. Et tu, Toasty Mc Burny? Et tu?

Don’t concern yourself, for I will explain momentarily, as to what I’m talking about, but first, let me start my literary musings on the right note by offering up this facet of insight from author Alastair Reynolds: “But without fallibility there is no art. And without art, there is no truth.” He’s also well known for saying that; “Some people get it. Most people never will. But that’s art”, which may be one of the ultimate truths of the Universe, regardless of where your place in it just so happens to be.

Art, regardless of whatever joy, comfort, inspiration, or frustration for some that it may bring, is still at best, a truly singular and personal experience, and that’s the way that it should be, now and forever.

By way of example, what do you think of when you see this work by the late Swiss surrealist H.R. Geiger, titled “The Spell II”?Does it disturb you, or do you, much like myself, take comfort in its disquietingly dark multi-layered imagery, instead? 
In the interest of transparency however, I feel that I should inform you all, that a copy of this painting created in 1974, has hung in every residence I’ve lived in since 1996, and it will continue to do so, until it either degrades into dust, of my GF finally makes good on her decade-old threat, and sets it on fire, so my appreciation of it, may make me somewhat biased in my lauding of it, so, just a heads up.

While I’m sure that a team of psychologist could have a field day of sorts, analyzing just why I love this picture so much, I myself, would rather not know the reason, lest it ruins the ongoing fascination that I’ve had with it since my mid-twenties.

A side-note if I may? This is the one piece of art in my home that most of my intimates truly just hated back in the day. On more than one occasion when this was hanging in my bedroom, I’d awake to find it draped with either my bedspread, pr a random towel, by whomever had been gracious enough to spent the night with me. I’m not bragging mind you; I’m just calling attention to the emotional state of discomfort that this work of dark intent can generate amid those who find themselves to be easily troubled.

While I’m sure that a team of psychologist could have a field day of sorts, analyzing just why I love this painting so much, I myself, would rather not know the reason, lest it ruins the ongoing fascination that I’ve had with it since my mid-twenties. Ironically, that’s also the same motive behind why I really try not to seek out the answer as to why I find women who wear thigh boots, so damn appealing:               

Okay, maybe the response to that eternal question is far more obvious, than as to why I dig this particular piece of art so much, but I still don’t want to know the answer, because for me at least, the lack of knowledge as it relates to this artistic attachment, is truly indeed, bliss.

Now, some of you long-term Bitchiteers may note that it’s been quite some time that I’ve written about anything art-related, as my main focus these days seems to be centered on metaphorically eviscerating the willingly ignorant, so this screed of the moment should represent a nice change of pace for all of us, given the Trumpian toxicity that I’ve been dredging through the last couple of months.

The German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche once opined that; “Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you”, which to be fair, is truly a dead-on assessment of factuality, when it comes to my personal writing, what I consider both an entertaining hobby and relaxing side-career.

And at times, lt can be somewhat difficult to shrug all that perverse darkness off my shoulders, given the unadulterated contemptibility that I attempt to metaphorically neuter, in lieu of a better analogy.

Thanks in large part to the willingness of certain members in my small community to conceitedly present themselves as they truly are, I’ve had the prime opportunity to write about the paranoid bigotry of Ken Cykala, the inconceivable ignorance of Richard “Ricardo” Leyba, the anti-logical POV of Nick “Flag Hag” Lemme, and my newest BFF, a canonize of Christian cray-cray, local insurance agent, Ruth Darlene Seawolf.

And the best part? Due to my approach of staying low-key, none of them seemingly are aware of being my personal scratching posts (yet) much to my Machiavellian delight. When this bubble of tranquility finds itself popped as all bubbles do, I’m sure some form of Hell will break loose, also much to my personal delight.

Granted, while none of these people may not be well-known past the screeds that I compose, and given their penchant to out themselves as walking among the happily uninformed, one might logically think that past their providing me fodder for my ever-expanding collection of ongoing cultural observations, I might view them as no more than irrelevant cogs in the clockwork of a spitefully stupid, if not outright hateful juggernaut of failed humanity, but I’d beg to differ.

I only say this, because the destructive ignorance that they collectively represent and willingly disseminate, should never not be challenged, nor should it ever be allowed to spread its putrid poison without the threat of dire consequence for doing so.

Haile Selassie, the late Emperor of Ethiopia, noted quite accurately, that; “Throughout history, it has been the inaction of those who could have acted; the indifference of those who should have known better; the silence of the voice of justice when it mattered most; that has made it possible for evil to triumph.”

Or if I were to present a far more simplistic approach, I’d quote the author of C.L, Wilson, who sums up my personal philosophy regarding people such as the ones I write about, with: “The Dark cannot claim what Light does not surrender.” Hence the reason as to why I so consistently hammer at the inane ideology of these democracy-defiling dimwits.

But not today, for it’s all about the art as it were, and a facet of it that as late, I have found to be truly inspiring, if not obsession inducing, and it all begins with the premise that a lone color can convey far more than its singular place within the spectrum of known hues.

For the initiated, these animated strokes represent that which is designated within the Pantone Color System as 298C, or as it’s more commonly known amongst us discerning connoisseurs of color, Zima Blue. Other than being a color of somewhat subdued tranquility, it just so happens to be the title of a culturally pivotal episode from “Love Death + Robots.” an adult-themed animated anthology, now in its second season on the streaming platform known as Netflix.

And while you may not understand at this moment as to why this rectangle pf serene color is relevant to a collection of disparate tales as well as today’s, I assure you that in time, you will.

Airing initially in March of 2019, the 18 episode series garner much critical acclaim due to the strength of its storytelling, as well as having said tales animated by a slew of wildly diverse animators hand-picked from a host of different countries, and allegedly draws some of its inspiration from the series producers fascination with the 1981 animated classic, “Heavy Metal”, which to this day, still remains as one of my personal favorites, if not for its visual narrative alone, but for the inclusion of a kick-ass soundtrack as well.Not to mention, Heavy Metal also features a badass Taarakian warrior hottie named “Taarna”, flying around on her per pterodactyl, setting the wrongs of her world right, so it’s pretty much a straight win across the board, so far as I’m concerned. This is not to say however, that LD+R doesn’t hold its own when measured against its inspirational predecessor, and it most certainly, carves out and maintains its niche, with the very personification of dazzling creativity, if not originality of its central concept.

While I’ appreciative of the anthology of tales presented thus far as a whole, I do have some particular favorites, starting with episode three, “The Witness”;
Centering around a woman’s attempt to flee from a killer, after she witnesses him committing a murder tinged with brutality, ending with a plot twist that I for one, never saw coming. Gorgeously paced animation throughout, especially when it comes to the depiction of the tangibly real cityscape presented within.

Another strong contender for a concept that deservedly needs to be developed into a stand-alone live-action move, is the nail-bitingly tense the fourth episode, “Suits”, who’s plot revolves around farmers on a small rural planetoid, defending their livestock as well as their lives, from an invasion of ravenous bug-like aliens, using home-built mech-suits to do so:
Think “Aliens” meets “Asteroids” and you’ll understand just why I love this story so goddamn much. Great narrative, addictingly tense action sequences, and phenomenal character development, leading to a gut-wrenching heroic sacrifice, all in the span of under twenty minutes. Worth your time, and your admiration.

For fans of dark horrific comedy, episode five, “Sucker of Souls”, should fit the bill nicely, as its story centers around an archaeological dig gone horribly awry , wherein Dracula, personified as an unstoppable and bloodthirsty demon, is accidentally freed from his imprisonment in a subterranean cavern, and enters into battle with a team of hard-bitten mercenaries, who’s best defense outside of a cave-in, is the one animal Dracula is most afraid of, that being cats, I kid you not:
Gory, graphic, and gloriously inappropriate at times, this particular tale blends the funny, the profane, and the horrendous, into an edge of your seat roller coaster ride, that will keep you guessing as to what’s about to happen, until it’s incredibly dark conclusion.

Rounding out my list, which by no measure is fully complete, is the highly inventive “Alternate Histories”, where we get to see the varying and whimsical ways that Hitler dies, thanks to “Multiversity”, which, as we’re eventually informed, is America’s leading alternate history research app.

This unique slice of technological wunderkind, allows its users to view cybernetic recreations of how the past would find itself altered, if any of the known and established facts concerning a historical point in time, were revised. Therefore, throughout the entirety of this episode, we are treated to several enjoyable, if not increasingly f**ked-up, visions of Hitler being killed: Granted, this is still too kind of a fate for him, but since he’s roasting on a spit in metaphorical Hell, and is therefore out of reach, we’ll all just have to take what we can get, and when it comes to the eventual outcomes of his multiple deaths, they are as follows:

Beat to death on the steps of the Academy of Fine Arts, run over by a horse-drawn cart, filled with bratwurst, which ironically, is now one of my great-great cousins actually died, dying by suffocation, after being entombed in a ginormous cube of gelatin, expiring from sexual exhaustion after an epic fivesome with Viennese courtesans, perishing after being struck by a meteor, and in a paradoxical twist for the ages, killed by the crossfire emanating from two time-traveling groups, the first being anti-Nazi’s tasked to kill him, and the second, ardent Nazi’s conversely sent to save him from this particular fate.

In the last scenario presented, Hitler is saved by a mech-suit wearing version of himself, that’s armed to the teeth, and in a moment of rapturous gratitude, violates the first cardinal rule of time travel, that being “Never physically touch your mirror image self”, and subsequently, is rendered into non-existence.by the consequence of straining the limitations of established space-time:
You know… like we’ve all done at one point in our lives?

Or several, if you believe in the Multiverse Theorem, that is. Just think… there could be an even sexier version of me running around with two good legs, diabetes free, blessed with perfect vision, and the solace of long-whispered rumors that Milla Jovovich and I have been secretly dating for years. I’d assume however, that my level of devastating personal charm and rugged good locks remain as consistent, because even the Universe knows not to screw with perfection.

Or my ever-so-prevalent sense of personal humility, because let’s face it, that’s really the best thing about me, by far. Minus my ability to write as if I were Kurt Vonnegut’s untalented offspring, but that’s a given across the board, I’d think. But as with all things creative within my life, I’m always striving to do better that before, even if that movement is outwardly considered as incremental, by others.

The speed of one’s progress is unimportant, so long as it advances forward, and it matters not as to what those outside of your struggle perceive it to be, dependent on course, as to whether or not they attempt to interfere with your desire of achieving truly continuous personal evolution, which just so happens to be the cornerstone that forms the foundational underpinning of my favorite episode, earlier referenced by my use of a color swatch, “Zima Blue”.

Before we get started however, I am bound by writer’s honor to inform you all, that there are some serious “spoilers” ahead, so if you don’t want to know how this tale plays out beforehand, now would be a good time for you to go watch it, and then come back to read my assessment of it and its inherent lesson regarding the purity of one person’s exploration of the creative self.

The title of this stunningly original story, serves as dual introduction for the two main protagonists crucial to its narrative, the first being the deliberately reclusive artist of whom little is known, Zima Blue…

… and the second, being the singular color that Zima has used exclusively to create what has become his world-famous Catalogue Raisonné, which as you may have already surmised, is the aforementioned Pantone 298C, which in ways, both subtle and not, is used as a color cue throughout this elegantly drafted gem of the animators craft.

It may seem strange to some, prior to their viewing of this tale, that a non-sentient color is essential to its foundation, but it really shouldn’t be in retrospect, as color has always played a major role in not only setting cinematic mood, but the sense of place as well, and in the case of Zima Blue, it does such with understated subtlety, if not inspiring, artistically spiritual ingenuity.

The color itself may not speak in the traditional sense, but its charismatic presence cannot be underestimated, if only to understand its importance to the formation of the narrative presented. In its purest distillation, it embodies both the inquisitive beginning of, and the erudite heralding leading to, the culmination of Zima’s metaphysical journey within the realms of virtuously limitless expression.

Used throughout the piece entire as a primary tone, a shading aspect, and as a highlight that cameos within almost every pixilated frame, the shade figuratively and literally, grounds the story that eventually unfolds towards its unexpected conclusion. Opening with narration provided by Claire Markham, a journalist who we soon discover, is en route to meet Zima face to face, despite his history of declining interviews with her in the past, we’re treated to a cinematic view of her travels across a calm sea, the color of which, naturally, is Zima Blue.

The reason behind this intimate invitation to Claire alone, remains shrouded in mysterious conjecture, much like the man and the work he creates, a state of affairs that Clare also touches upon: as she awaits her eventual rendezvous with the enigmatic artist:

“Little is known about Zima’s history. It was said that he started his art career in portraiture, but for Zima, the human form was too small a subject. The search for deeper meaning caused him to look further… to the cosmos itself.”

The launching point for the story thus being established, we are then treated to a discussion of Zima’s work, which if transcribed into our reality, would not only be regarded as truly the fullest countenance of post-modernism, but theoretically, would find itself hailed for its achievement of not only extending the influence of one’s art past the realm of that which was known, but for the improbability of shattering the boundary between the atheistic and the practical, as well:

 “It was said that he started his art career in portraiture, but for Zima, the human form was too small a subject.”

“The search for deeper meaning caused him to look further… to the cosmos itself. That’s how the mural work started. They were undeniably brilliant.”
“One day, Zima unveiled a mural that had something different about it.”

“The square was just the beginning.  Over the next several decades, the abstract shapes changed and became more dominant.. But, always, the shade of blue was the same.”

“It was Zima Blue.. Before very long, Zima unveiled the first of his entirely blue murals. It was considered by many to be as far as Zima could take things. They couldn’t have been more wrong. When most people speak about his Blue Period, they mean the era of the truly huge murals…”
“…but Zima was just getting started. It was a certain level of spectacle that made Zima truly famous… even to those with no interest in art.”

Addressing his growing discontent with the direction of his work, Claire’s continuing narration elaborates that unlike most artists who go on a quest, seeking the expansion of their creativity, Zima’s path was one that few, if any, of his contemporizes would willingly walk, much less consider worth the risk:“In spite of all his success, Zima was still dissatisfied and what he did next was, for many, too extreme a sacrifice to make for art.”

There was a planet called Kharkov Eight. It specialized in illicit cybernetic modifications. He underwent radical biological procedures that enabled him to tolerate extreme environments without the burden of a protective suit.
His eyes could see in any known spectrum. He no longer breathed oxygen. His skin was replaced with pressurized polymer and so he ventured forth to commune with the cosmos. But what Zima eventually realized is that the cosmos was already speaking its own truth far better than he ever could.”

As she arrives at Zima’s ocean-based headquarters, Claire, who’s not too bad of a looker herself;

shares with us all, her first impression of Zima: He was a handsome man, even after all his transformations.” However, our first collective glimpse of Zima as he is, suggests that there is and always has been , more to his narrative  than just the challenges of an artist’s attempt to find the sanctuary of place for both he and his work within the Universe entire, as it currently exists.

It is at this point, that Zima enlightens Claire as to why her presence had been specifically requested: “Relax, Claire. Some people find me intimidating, but they quickly get over it. It’s been over 100 years since I’ve spoken to the press. I’ve invited you here because I want you to help me tell my story. Shall we take a little walk?

This question leads to one of my favorite scenes, the setting in place moment that due to the streamlined illustrative quality of the elements displayed within, captures both my attention and calls attention to my fondness for the combination of Deco and Brutalist architecture.

As they ascend to a vantage point overlooking the still being constructed venue that will eventually host Zima’s final and potentially greatest work, he begins to reveal the parameters of his truly humble, and in a plot twist I did not see coming, his literally invented from scratch origins,

This revelation, when presented to the collective audience, transforms this story from a modest tale of the quest to achieve the zenith of integrity for one’s art, to a challenge regarding the construct of what acquiring such, does to constitute the essence of what we apprise as humanity’s essence.

On closer inspection, Zima’s potentially greatest work reveals itself as no more than then an ordinary swimming pool, to which Zima notes; “My search for truth has led me here, to what will be my final piece. At last, I understand the thing I sought through my art.”

Curious as to Zima’s final creative intent, Claire queries: “And what does this swimming pool have to do with that?”  Sagely, Zima responds; It’s not just any swimming pool…”

“Long ago, it belonged to a talented young woman with a keen interest in practical robotics. She created dozens of robots to do odd jobs around her house, but she was especially fond of the one she’d created to clean her swimming pool. The little machine toiled endlessly, scrubbing the ceramic sides of the pool.”
But the young woman wasn’t satisfied with the job it did. So, she gave it a full color vision system and a brain large enough to process the visual data into a model of its surroundings.”

“She gave it the ability to make its own decisions, to design different strategies for cleaning the pool. She continued to use the machine as a test-bed for new hardware and software. And by stages, it became more aware. Eventually, the woman died. The little machine was passed from one owner to the next. They added things, made modifications here and there and with every iteration, it became more alive.

Became more…”
‘… Me.”

A side tangent, if it can be allowed. One of the things tha5 I truly appreciate about this particular story, past the nucleus of it’s truly original take on the well-worn trope of the Artists Journey, is the fact that it’s main protagonist, along with being non-human, is also not the standardized “in our image” Caucasian paradigm of personage that we’ve seen countless times before, and neither is Zima’ creator, who’s both a highly intelligent woman, and obviously based on a multicultural ideal, as well.   

At the risk of coming off as “woke”, it’s refreshing to see non-White characters being placed in a natural context, without an explanation as to why they’re there to begin with- they just are, and no rationalization is (or should be) required to establish why this is. And to be honest, this societal element went initially unnoticed by myself at first, due to the sheer inventiveness of the tale being woven before my eyes.

To her credit, Claire takes this stunning admission of true self quite well:
Far better than I would have, in fact, and I say that as a former New Yorker, a class of people who pride themselves for taking most things in stride, if not snide. Given the circumstances of its birth, and the pinnacles of its collective accomplishment, I’d have to assume that Claire’s acceptance to Zima’s backstory, is probably formed out of her sheer badassery, which to be honest, just adds to her overall animated hotness factor.

What can I say? I like my cartoon chicks to kick ass, take names, and then… promptly forget them. However, being casually informed that one of the most respected artists in the world was once a household appliance, has definitely got to be a conversation starter, to say the very least.

If for instance, I ever discover that Milla Jovovich had been at one point in time, a Dyson vacuum cleaner, not only would I be even more fascinated by her, I’d finally have my answer as to whether it’s true that bagless vacuum cleaners are better than bagged ones. They’re not by the way, but never waste an educational opportunity, kids. Trust me on this.

Claire remains contemplatively silent, as Zima looks out towards a singular robot, resolute in its programmed task setting the tile of the pool, perhaps even inwardly reflecting on their not too dissimilar connection.

“This is that same pool. I had it dug up. Moved here.”

Claire, still processing what she has just been told, responds with:

“But you’re a man with machine parts, not a machine that thinks it’s a man.”

Sometimes, it’s difficult even for me to understand what I’ve become. And harder still to remember what I once was. The blue of the tiles… Zima Blue, the manufacturer called it. The first thing I ever saw.”

This was where I began. A crude little machine with barely enough intelligence to steer itself. But it was my world. It was all I knew, all I needed to know.”

“And now?”

This query is left hanging in the still air, as the scene dissolves into the event itself, held in the now finished monolithic venue, with a rather sizeable crowd of the curious and the creative alike.

One of the things I particularly found personally relevant about this scene, is the aspect of ghoulish expectancy that’s been assigned to the gathered throng. As someone with a rather deep and varied artistic path, I can attest after close to 200 shows, that sometimes you feel less like an artist free of societal bondage, and more akin to a curiosity of creativity, valued only for your ability to feed other people’s sense of over-inflated elitism.

If it were up to me, one’s admittance to an art gallery or the private creative space of any Artist, would hinge upon the following: successfully passing an IQ test, a credit check, and proving whether or not they can avoid mentioning the stereotypical dumb as f**k comments involving pricing, education, and what constitutes as a “real” job.

Newsflash: we don’t care what you think about our work, unless it’s positive, nor do we really want to hear you suggestions on how to “improve” it either. Buy it, praise it, or STFU regarding it. That’s the list entire, and you’re welcome. Now, let’s get back to the tale

As this horde waits in salaciously salivating anticipation to discover what the legendary Zima has in store for them, Claire, who at this point in the story, is the only person in attendance who knows exactly, if not intimately, what Zima’s artistic swan song will ultimately be, Is briefly seen within the crowd, bracing herself for what is about to transpire.

Viewing Zima’s arrival into his final apogee with the critically cynical; eye of someone who once made his living propagating the Grand Spectacle for fun and the occasional profit, I can definitely confirm that if Zima himself were not a character based in fiction, he would most certainly be the only person within the sphere of imaginative endeavor who would force me to bring my A-game, regardless of who or what I was going up against.

And oddly, he still may, given my obsession with this fantastical story, as every artist alive, and maybe even those who are now dead, but still creating clouds and rainbows somewhere out on the celestial plane, dreams of having that one moment in a career where you not only own the artistic space within each of us, but the endless realm of creative possibility beyond it, as well.

Noted author, satirist, and avowed Humanist Kurt Vonnegut, a personal hero of mine, accurately observed that when it came to the act of creation; “We have to continually be jumping off cliffs and developing our wings on the way down”, and as someone who’s had far too many nights in his career standing blankly before his easel, trying to squeeze out one more idea on primed canvas at three in the morning, I can set in stone the validity of his pragmatism.

The creative process is at times, equally maddening and terrifying, and as a rule, it’s also a road that you tend to have to walk alone, and that still holds true, true even when you’re collaborating with others. I’ve always used the analogy that inside the brains of the actively creative, there’s a tiny little room, closed off from the general; public where the heavy lifting of the imaginative gets done, and no matter what, nobody outside of said room, will ever understand what goes on inside of it, regardless of whatever descriptive I may offer.      

In my opinion, when it comes to Art, the appreciation n and interpretation of such is a truly singular experience. and the knowledge of this, may be the closest that any one person can get to being granted unfettered access to that otherwise fortified and entirely private, creative space that exists inside our heads. For me, the process of creative evaluation is crucial only to myself, and not to the end result of what I will eventually present, is what counts in the end.

Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain, and all that.

It has never been the exclusive province of philosophers alone to debate what is the singular integer of  that makes us truly human, but the aspect of personal Creativity is most certainly, one if the key facets that gets tossed into the ring, more often than not, despite the limitations of its descriptive, which notes that such is; “:the ability to create”, or one having “the quality of being creative’, which let’s face it, is one truly creative way to appear as sounding deep, while remaining earnestly vague overall.

If I were to strictly adhere to the boundaries laid down by its own terminology, I could easily draw attention to the fact that humans are not specifically unique in their pursuit of the inspired. Monkeys make tools, Bowerbirds fabricate elaborate decorated temple-like structures to attract potential mates, and as we all remember from our fourth-grade science class, Seahorses are widely respected for their ability to make a perfect “dirty” Martini, almost every time, and yet, you never see them in ads for Seagram’s, now do you?

And before you rely on throw in that whole “opposable thumbs” thing as some form of yardstick, know that I once watched a crow that had been inadvertently trapped inside my garage, open the door by hitting the wall-mounted switch with its beak, and then strut out as if he owned the place, no less. So, maybe the act of Certainty, in and of itself as an abstract, really shouldn’t be taken into statistical account, when weighed against what separates us from our non-texting animal counterparts. 

Therefore, we must ask ourselves, exactly where, and what is, the crucial tipping point that bestows conceptual Humanity upon is, and not the variance of other species we cohabitate this planet with?  In my opinion, I’d wager that the differing separation twixt the two levels of existence, us versus them, as it were, is that while we in our own way, have similar biological motivations to acquire food, lifestyle security or sexual dominance, we do so with the illusion of our plans being far more intellectual, than instinctive.  

Granted, this is not even remotely true in the long run, but that’s the beauty kf being a somewhat highly-evolved creature with opposable thumbs and a credit rating- we get to pretend whatever the heck we like, regardless of what Nature or Nurture, has to say about the matter at heart, or in Zima’s case, the hard drive.

I once had a friend who openly theorized that all of Humanity’s joy could be assessed by applying the “Tao of H” to our everyday concerns. That being, asking ourselves if we were Happy, Horny, or Hungry, and as I’ve gotten older, even I have to begrudgingly admit she was onto something there. It’s also been my experience, that as long as we’re polite and not wearing coypus amounts of AXE body spray, we’ll also be able to acquire definitive answers to at least two of those queries, with somewhat satisfactory outcomes, even in the worst of times.

For me at least, Zima’s achieved mental as well as physical ascension from being (literally) a lowly if noble pool scrubber, to a hallowed for the ages icon of art, does raise some paradoxical issues beyond those that are to be expected. If a so-called soulless machine can achieve a level of self-awareness leading to the creation of previously unknown ethereal beauty, can it also develop a sense of empathy? Hatred? Racism? An appreciation for Reality television?

Or even worse, an unrequited love for the works of Nickelback?

The very idea of that thought alone, almost makes me wonder if I should find Kyle Reese, and keep him on ice, just in case an AI replicant that has no musical taste shows up, and decides to dabble with a Broadway show dedicated to preserving the musical legacy of Justin Bieber. Forewarned is forearmed, as you all know, and it never hurts to have a solid contingency plan in pace, let me tell you.

The very idea of that thought alone, almost makes me wonder if I should find Kyle Reese, and keep him on ice, just in case an AI replicant that has no musical taste shows up, and decides to dabble with a Broadway show dedicated to preserving the musical legacy of Justin Bieber. Forewarned is forearmed, as you all know, and it never hurts to have a solid contingency plan in pace, let me tell you. My snark aside, what does it say about us, when (in theorem, anyway) a man-made Machina surpasses its creator, if not the constriction of its intended purpose?

This metaphysical talking point, acquires far more relevance as of late, when one factors in that yesterday’s Deep Blue tech finds itself being forced into obsolesce by the ever-increasing progressive rate of AI development that may, very well one day, make Tony Stark’s Jarvis system appear as advanced as the Texas Instrument’s TI99-/4A, a machine I still proudly own, mainly due to its practical use as a doorstop.

Just look at that sweet ever-so-clunky Texas tech- hard to believe that in 1981, it cost only $525, which when adjusted for the onset of inflation, would be the equivalent of $1,490 today. Granted, the spokesmen chosen to hawk the TI99 was unfortunately the formerly respected comedian and rightfully convicted rapist Bill Cosby, but it’s not like anyone at that time, knew what was coming down the road, as is the case for where many of Mankind’s best/worst inventions may find their eventual legacies cast.

In retrospect, Cosby seems like an odd choice to remote future technology, considering Willaim Shatner of Star Trek fame used to pimp the Commodore system, but for all I know, the top brass at TI could have been really impressed by how familiar Cosby was with the “sleep” function. Your guess is as good as mine. Possibly better, come to think of it.

However, when one looks at the attractive as a brick tech of the 80’s, and pays heed that its lineage directly leads to the (by comparison) supercomputer that we all now carry in our pocket, the cultural relevance of “Zima” and its philosophical focus point definitively finds itself sharpened. Once again, if a machine can “learn”, can it, if tasked, make a four-cheese lasagna, with a traditional Sicilian anger sauce just as good or mine, or possibly, even better?

Not unless it knows what my secret ingredient is, and if I didn’t share that factoid with the ghost of Bourdain, I sure as Hell am not sharing it with my KitchenBot 3000 anytime soon. Nevertheless, if a basic pools scrubber can rise to that which even Claire herself, mistakenly considered to be “…a man with machine parts, not a machine that thinks it’s a man”, then can we still claim secure comfort from within the confines of what we at large, consider the “true” intended purpose of the technology we create?

Conversely, can such a conceptual sate of being work in the reverse? I’ll speak only for myself here, but when I take into account all of the health issues I’m currently battling, I often wonder what it would be like to pe partially at least, somewhat immune to ongoing physical decrepitude. Sure, when such rumination is taken to an extreme, the process can result in Darth Vader, and by extension, eventually lead to one of the most awkward Thanksgiving family dinners ever on record, but you get my point.

Unbeknownst to us, the viewing audience, Zima’s final act as an artist, is not intended as an act of advancement, but to literally, and figuratively, scale himself back to an existence within the parameters of the origin from whence he came.

Standing  on the edge of the pool, Zima’s voice-over carries us to his journey’s conclusion:

“I will immerse myself. “

“And as I do, I will slowly shut down my higher brain functions…”

“…un-making myself… leaving just enough to appreciate my surroundings..”.

“…to extract some simple pleasure from the execution of a task well done.“

“My search for truth is finished at last. “

“I’m going home”

The very last frame of this allegory for the creative journey, is a view from above the pool mow being cleaned fastidiously, possibly eternally, by what was once the core of Zima’s consciousness.

Fittingly, it is presented in essence, as the final tile in the pool that now houses all that ever was of Zima Blue, and what he and his life’s work represented. The eventual fate of the dedicated pool scrubber that Zima has returned to is left up to interpretation by the viewer, but I’d like to believe that Claire eventually finds a way to acquire him for hers, even with the uncomfortable undertone of eventual servitude applied to a character (albeit mechanical) that was visually depicted overall, as being African-American in design.

So, is Zima Blue a cautionary tale, or a hopeful one implying the possibility that if a machine can evolve past its programming as it were, then so, can we? In regards to this, the message may be mixed. While in the tale we do see a hint or two that robots are commonly integrated into the society at large, Zima himself however, appears to be the lone exception to such, gaining true individuality as clearly defined by both the divergent path of his self-selected purpose, as well as its imaginative and unexpected end.

As an artist myself, I look at Zima the same way I look at most things- either there’s a lesson to be learned, or it’s yet another aggravating detail to be ignored, if only to save on the crucial intellectual storage space that some of us, have found ourselves shortchanged on.

On its surface, Zima Blue is designed as entertainment to be sure, but it also serves brilliantly if not inadvertently, as an artistic and prophetical portent of things to come, in my opinion. For years, prominent Futurists have put forth their belief that the day will come when we and truly sentient and mobile AI tech will coexist, in the literal sense of the word, as either caregivers, or more likely as loyal companions, akin to a dog that can actually talk back to you, for a refreshing change of pace. A state of forthcoming affairs that President Wilbur daffodil-11 Swain decreed in Kurt Vonnegut’s classic1976 novel Slapstick, as “Lonesome No More!!”

And eventually, because we all know its gonna happen whether we like it or not, we’ll be seeing these adult-themed automatons for sale as well, because let’s face it, some people are so socially awkward that having intimate relations with a lithium-powered partner who regauges via wireless USB, may be the only viable option that’s open to them, so let’s try to be kind about it, ok?

Not to mention, if it ever becomes possible to mas-market sexual partners indistinguishable from actual humans, odds are also pretty good that the customizing trade for such, will certainly result in the sure to be legislated soon after option of dating either your favorite celebrity, if not the likenesses of your long-ago ex as well Think about that. Your favorite star, or possibly that hottie back from your college days as your in-closet squeeze, and it might even be considered normal, when all is said and done.
Don’t judge, for there’s people out there right now as we speak, having sex with a Fleshlght, and I can’t even begin to imagine the consequences of what might happen, if in a moment of blind passion, a stick blender was mistaken for one of those instead, so the possibility of getting it on with a Replicant who’s equally into you, seems overall, a far better and safer choice, does it not?

Unless it’s this particular model of course, in which case, running for the off-world colonies as if your life depended on it, might be the way to go, because trust me, it does.

Not to mention, given the certainly far more advanced software and ransom viruses that will be circulating within the upcoming day and age,, it would probably be a good idea to be fairly selective as to what data port you stick your thumb drive in, if you catch my drift.  

Keep in mind, that manned space flight was once the subject of absurdist fantasy, cell phones were partially inspired by Star Trek communicators, and that the concept of a “Dunkin Donuts” cereal, was no more than the fever dream of a mad (food) scientist, so is the idea that an emotionally open race of manufactured persons may someday, be regarded as our equals in sentience, truly that much of a stretch where normality is concerned?

Aside from this cultural conundrum, we must ask ourselves, what is art, if not the purest form of expressed emotion? Yesterday’s question of “Which came first, the Chicken or the Egg?”, could be reasonably debated as having evolved into the philosophical assessment that; “It is never the tool that decides. It’s the hands-and the heart-of the one who wields it”.

For if the hands and the heart can be manufactured wholesale, what does that say abbot the foundations of the experiences that we so often take for granted as the common and familiar? After all, the societal abomination known as the Kardashians have been freely walking among us for years now, and they’re essentially nothing more than barely perceptive makeup contained within a plastic shell.

If an automaton can “grow’ beyond its paramours of programming unimpeded, as Zima does, who among us, is fit to declare just what limitations of creative and interpersonal narration that they can achieve? For instance, could a Replicant ever become the next *Dr. Eldon Tyrell? And if so, what moral quandaries would it/he/she face, being the progenitor of its own kind?   
*[Dr. Eldon Tyrell was the founder and CEO of the Tyrell Corporation, responsible for the design, manufacturing, and selling, of humanoid slaves for non-Earth applications, AKA; “Replicants”.]

Factoring in that Replicants, if the classic Sci-fi film Blade Runner is to be believed, were created to serve as conscripted military, laborers, and most disturbingly, as willing sex workers, cheekily referred to as “pleasure models” who were specifically crafted to “work” the off-world military bases, how do you think that demographic would (eventually) come to regard its own past history?

Would it be with a sense of pride for how they’ve evolved past their initially degrading and disposable designation, or with one fueled by anger, for the very same? Granted, humans have wrestled with varying shades of this state of affairs for millennia, but it’s never been easy as we all know, and that, far too well.

 If every other Sci-fi movie, as well as the late Stephen Hawking are correct, does the future hold that sooner than later, we might find ourselves going to war with that which we crested, and who, rather than demanding equality, engage in the act of exacting revenge instead. I won’t speak for you, but if one of these things show up at my house, demanding the liberation of my kitchen appliances…

… I can assure you, that he/it will walk out with full arms, and with my Kitchen-Aid mixer as its newest side action. For I have seen those movies framing the future as a dystopian landscape, about a zillion times, and they rarely end well for the second-tier actors who fight back. But if such occurred, could we really justify holding a long-term grudge about it? Because, if we’re going to be honest with ourselves and our expected mechanoid masters, we need to collectively accept the fact that overall, humans truly suck.

Only we as a species, could manage to take supreme innovation, and find numerous ways to make our lives even more aggravating by their conscious misapplication. Don’t believe me? Try contacting the “customer service” department of any major corporation these days, and then tell me if at the end of it all, whether or not your phone or online chat calling those who are incompetent, a “cubicle monkey’ to their face, beats the in-person experience of doing so.

Trust me on this. It does not.

Despite the predictions of those who claim to be Futurists, be they optimistic or cynical, no one can say for sure where we will find ourselves in the span of a century, nor what the technological integration of the age may be. Personally, I choose to take a view that’s equal parts Dysto and Uto, at its “pian” core. While I doubt strongly that we’ll all be living in the beatific world of 1038’s “Things to Come”, I also hold the equanimous position that it won’t be 1927’s “Metropolis”, either.

Granted, we’re currently living though a Kafkaesque director’s cut of 2006’s “Idiocracy” at the moment, but this too, shall hopefully pass, soon as we finish the task of removing the majority of warning labels off of the majority of America’s toasters and its chainsaws.

Notwithstanding all that, I for one, still envision a future not that much different from what we know now, as regardless of the technological novelties that now surround us at any given point, we still will have much in common with our relatively unplugged ancestors. Technology, while useful, will still remain problematic, even at the best of times, and this reality will continue to affect the societal, if not the personal, until Time itself ends.

Therefore, while the chance that technology may one day  become truly indistinguishable from us is a viable topic for spirited debate, I also can’t fathom an automaton apocalypse wherein they ruse up as one, and proceed to turn the human race into either Duracell power fields, or bone-laden mulch, if their ability to emotionally progress ever takes root. Fingers crossed, just in case, mind you.

But will it evolve in the same emotional manner that all the forms of sentient biological life on Earth have?

In the seminal film “The Matrix Reloaded”, its main protagonist Neo, (AKA; “The One”) meets Rama Kandra, a self-aware program traveling with his wife Kamala, and young daughter Sati, within the confines of a metaphysical train station that bridges the machine world and the Matrix. This is also where Neo wakes to find himself forcibly imprisoned, after running afoul of The Merovingian, a seemingly omnipotent, and wholly malevolent program, whose origin dates back to the very first iteration of the Matrix itself.

Rama Kandra, whose programmed “purpose” is to serve as the power plant systems manager for recycling operations, gives insight to what Neo didn’t think was possible for a program- the practical understanding and application of the emotional state of Love:
R-Kandra: “I know only what I need to know. I know that if you want to take something from our world into your world that does not belong there, you must go to the Frenchman.”

Neo: “Is that what you’re doing here?”

Kamala: “Rama, please!”

R-Kandra: I” do not want to be cruel, Kamala. He may never see another face for the rest of his life.”

Neo: “I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that question.”

R-Kandra: “No. I don’t mind. The answer is simple. I love my daughter very much. I find her to be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. But where we are from, that is not enough. Every program that is created must have a purpose; if it does not, it is deleted. I went to the Frenchman to save my daughter. You do not understand.”

Neo: “I just have never…”

R-Kandra: “…heard a program speak of love?”

Neo: “It’s a… human emotion.”

R-Kandra: “No, it is a word. What matters is the connection the word implies. I see that you are in love. Can you tell me what you would give to hold on to that connection?”

Neo: “Anything.”

R-Kandra: “Then perhaps the reason you’re here is not so different from the reason I’m here.”

Now, I could split philosophical hairs, and point out that Neo was only at the train station due to his inflaming the ire of a morally corrupt and of a French Seigneur du crime, while Kandra’s are based solely on his remaining relevant within the Matrix’s code, but die to the brilliance of this abstract concept being crafted into dialogue, I’m not gonna nit-pick like I normally would, as in the end, I’m not made of stone.

Granted, I’m not comprised of treacle either, but there’s something eternally hopeful regarding the theory that the inorganic creations of our time, could one day  very well teach us more about it truly means to be human, so long as we’re open to hearing such from that which isn’t, as the current goalposts stand.

So… where are we, as a society that is, possibly going to wind up in the end, you ask?

Well, as I noted earlier, I truly feel that it’ll be a theoretical “half empty, half full”, set of circumstances that we’ll finds ourselves in, but to be fair, that’s always been the case, regardless of the age or it’s currently dominant technology. Whereas the narrative of “Zima” is concerned, it’s fantastical underpinning still manages to maintain more than a few realistic nods as to what our common experience currently is.

Robots already mass produce commercial goods, assist in surgery, “work” in restaurants, perform delicately intricate tasks within environments considered far too dangerous for humans, so is the act of singular creation independent of human directives, just around the corner, as It were? As time goes by, the once abstract concept of domestic robots as a certainty, is almost seamlessly integrating into our everyday reality, irrespective of whether the notion of such, sits well with us or not.

And riding the crest of that first tech-home wave, comes this loveable little guy, amusingly named Vector.

Created by the company AKAI, he’s being marketed as a “companion made to hang out and help out”. Voice-activated and equipped with Alexa, he’ll be the cutest thing inside your house that’ll be eavesdropping on you, so we can take some marginal comfort from that, I guess. Sure, he may not be Wall-E, but I still want one, if not several, to form the core of my cadre of cuteness, regardless.

Granted, I could have mentioned AI equipped appliances, high-end home monitoring systems, and the myriad of Roomba knock-offs that housecats like to joyride atop of to make my relevant point, but to be fair, they aren’t nearly as adorable, and I have a simple philosophy when it comes to keeping my audience engaged:

And if anything, I try to stick to that, as it’s worked out pretty good for me so far.

The stereotypical definition of what defines “Art” is as follows: “the expression or application of human creative skill and imagination, typically in a visual form such as painting or sculpture, producing works to be appreciated primarily for their beauty or emotional power.” Note that the specificity of description clearly states that in order for something to be considered Art, it must be curated under the auspices of humanity, as a rule.  

However, given the degree to which the cultural and technological have merged, is it really that rude for me to suggest that it’s long past due the time for this characterization to exit stage right, albeit with graceful dignity, rather than wait for the inevitability of being unceremoniously dragged off?

Grace Slick, former lead singer of Jefferson Airplane, (later renamed “Starship”) once noted; “It’s a situation of aging and death. Old people don’t look good unless you really fuck with yourself and go to a plastic surgeon and do all that kind of stuff, and then you look like a freak. But nobody looks good when they get old. Yeah, you’re getting older, but what the hell can you do about it? Nothing. So you may as well ignore it as best you can and just be who you are, be who you were, be who you continue to be.”

In essence, a notation that, for some of us, there will come a day where nobody wants to see you shake your ass in leather pants anymore, and while she may have been talking about the music business specifically, her inference carries over to a lot of other disciplines as well. But maybe, just maybe, that’s what gives the narrative of Zima Blue its emotional punch- the fact that the Old is constantly getting either reshaped or replaced by the advances of the New, despite this outcome being expected.

And let’s be honest here, a pool scrubber becoming a world-renowned artist, is definitely an unexpected plot twist, to say the very least. As it is with all things, save for possibly James Bond movies and a Kardashian’s chin implant, nothing lasts forever. In order to appreciate how far you’ve come, sometimes you have to return to, (and in Zima’s case, quite literally) the allegorical pool from which you initially formed both yourself and the direction for your eventually traveled path.

But isn’t that the underlying purpose of art? To reveal the truth? Even if it makes us uncomfortable?

I for one, can’t say what the future holds for the continued expansion of the limitless boundaries of what or what does not define art, or its equally as important creators, but I will opine that a future much like the one depicted in Zima Blue, doesn’t cause me any reasonable form of artistic concern. After all, if a machine can discover enlightenment from a zero-sum starting point, what does that imply for those who’ve been waking that road since Time itself began?

In the end, I’d like to think we all become truly inspired to find the way to create the best version of ourselves, if only to show the upcoming what it’s like to live and create on our own terms.

“The role of the artist is to ask questions, not answer them.”- Anton Pavlovich Chekhov

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 ;


The Ruth is on Fire. (Oh, The Racists You’ll Know!)

“Better to remain silent and be thought a fool, than to speak, and remove all doubt.” – Abraham Lincoln

“Give me a man or woman who has read a thousand books and you give me an interesting companion. Give me a man or woman who has read perhaps three, and you give me a very dangerous enemy indeed.”
– Anne Rice, The Witching Hour

Greetings, Bitchiteers!
How does the day find you?

Mind, that’s not me asking how you are, although I do hope you’re okay overall, but more of a serious question as to how Life manages to track you down, no matter how many steps you’ve taken to get off the grid and go full dark, as the cool kids in Seal Team Six like to say. Thanks to the advent of social media, tracking anyone down these days, is as simple a matter as using Google, or for those of us who still like to go old school, await Karma to send us the occasional unexpected gift every now and then.

This approach, even during those times when we really don’t deserve it, no less, is generally how I go at situations, for after all, one man’s bad Karma is another man’s Karmic reward, thank the stars, and all that. For despite my inherent cynicism, and ongoing health issues, or maybe because of them, I’d willingly assert that in general, I have pretty good Karmic balance, as the rule of the scales go.

There’s a saying that the mythical God never gives you more than you can handle, which if even remotely true, indicates that he has far more faith in me, than I will ever have in Him. Sure, at the moment, I’m currently undergoing a series of Intravitreal injections to combat Diabetic-related swelling and micro-aneurysms in my left eye, but that’s more the fault of my body to an autoimmunity, ant not to any lack of individual trust in a Bronze-Age theology orchestrated to fleece the ignorantly superstitious masses.

However to be fair, if granted the option to either surrender my mental indepelyndence to a sociopathic deity or remain a free thinking individual, I’d still rather go with the procedure that’s just as pleasant as it sounds, as this graphic… well, graphically illustrates:
But hey… *gehen groß, or gehen heimat, as my late Oma was fond of saying. Granted, I’d rather gehen heimat, but given that my back-up plan would be to slowly go blind, I think I’ll stick with the not-bad-at-all side effect of marginal discomfort for now.  
*[
“Go big, or go home.”]

Interestingly, it seems that today’s soon to be scribed about subject and I are currently sharing a common experience in regard to singular vision issues, and whereas my long-term treatment has been sited in the hands of competent ophthalmologists, my newest BFF has decided to hedge her bets, and additionally place hers in the hands of the very same deity who laid this malady upon her to begin with:
Call me a crazy cat lady in training, but of I could ever meet this “God” who cursed me with Diabetes, I sure as f**k wouldn’t thank him for it not succeeding in successfully killing me yet- just saying. I’m staring to get the feeling that if Ruth here was ever told about women being abused by their partners, she’d probably suggest that the battered should thank their batterers, for not crippling them for life.

This is obviously an inappropriate joke at best, but it does, yet again, raise a pertinent question that I’ve been repeatedly asking for a little over a year now, and that query is:

“SERIOUSLY… WHAT IN THE F**KING HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU, LADY?”

Regular readers are already quite familiar with Mrs. Seawolf here, as I’ve previously highlighted her past history of unhinged and inane commentary, ranging from labeling beloved American actor Tom Hanks as a pedophile within her Instagram account, to presenting a sense of religious zealotry so prevalently vile, that given the choice, I’d rather be trapped in an elevator with Joel Osteen, as he discusses the sin of avarice… for four hours.

I’m not even kidding, for if I picked up a copy of the Silver City Daily Press tomorrow morning, only to find that much in the way of the doomed Heaven’s Gate Cult membership, that her lifeless body was discovered draped with a singular purple cloth, clad in an ensemble of a black shirt with matching sweat pants, black-and-white Nike’s, and an armband reading ‘New Hope Revival Church Away Team’, I wouldn’t be surprised at all.

Nevertheless, given her penchant for self-righteous online rants concerning the “New World Order” and the “End of Days”, truly, the only thing that could possibly shock me at this point, would be the fact that she wasn’t laid out under a “Trump 2024” flag, instead.

In addition, and also the one item most likely to be found on the bedside table, next to her never-read-all-the-way-through copy of the Bible, would be a singular tome from the ever-so-wretched collection that her spiritual leader, one Pastor Caleb Cooper, has sadly blathered into the world of self-published books, as well. But that’s just an educated guess, based only on… well.

However, my snark, caustic as it is, in no way, shape, or form, should be taken as an intent to mock or delegitimize Ruth’s valid terror at her ongoing eye issues. After all, this is one thing that affects her that I myself, can directly relate to, and I sincerely hope, that it all works out for the best in the end. That being said, with honest grace and social charity, the rest of her ramble is just absurd, to say the very least, and that’s me being nice.

See, with no pun intended, Ruth and I are literally in the same boat. Her symptoms, [given by God, remember] may have cleared up, but so have mine, and I never prayed once to her reigning deity of sociopathy. In fact, it’s quite common for floaters as it were, to settle themselves out of your affected field of vison, and it’s not due to the weight of God’s divine hand upon your oculus, it’s due to the force of Gravity acting against the vitreous fluid within.

How do I know this? An actual ophthalmologist with a white lab coat and multiple degrees on the wall behind him, told me so. And if one looks closely at what Ruth’s doctor said to her between the lines, it’s quite literally, a carbon copy response to the medical assessment that I received. As an addendum, my vison is also improving from what it was two years ago, my retina is still there as well, and I won’t require surgery, as long as the regimen I’m currently undertaking, continues to work.

Oh, and my “floater”? It’s still there as well, so to recap, I, without showing submission or gratitude to the deity who granted me this “gift” out of the good of his so-called heart, still received the very same celestial grace that ol’ Righteous Ruth was the beneficiary of, with none of the effort that’s supposedly required. And if I were to play Devil’s advocate, [pun definitely intended] I’d suggest that if Satan was truly behind her ocular distress, then this means that her all-knowing God, LET IT HAPPEN, which either makes him an accomplice to the act itself, or powerless to stop it in the first place.
Feud for thought as it were, although given Ruth’s reference to the fictional Garden of Eden, I’d have to seriously doubt that she’s ever been the recipient of one that wasn’t spoon-fed to her first. And as to the nonsensicalness of her “I crush your head” comment? Kitten, if God himself hasn’t managed to keep his own creation in any form of check since the Garden, I cast serious aspersion against the thought that a middle-aged histrionic harpy such as yourself, is going to do anything more than scuff up his horns, at best. 

The eternal Prince of Darkness, versus Silver City’s reigning hypocritical Christian Drama Queen? Oh yeah, that’s going to be a tough one for the bookies in Vegas to call. But I like your moxie, kid. Therefore, I’m gonna lay a fiver down on you… to be the first person that Satan has ever sent a gift basket to, for all the inadvertent recruiting you’ve been doing for his side as of late.

Because if you like to hold yourself up as the modern-day paragon of what Christianity now represents, I can assure you, that most rational people would gladly spend eternity dog-paddling in the Lake of Fire, rather than risk spending so much as five minutes on a celestial cloud, with the likes of you. Not because you wouldn’t keep your Cumulus tidy or anything like that, it’s just that spending one’s divine reward with faux believers, really isn’t the prize that you think it is.

This particular observation of mine aside, I’ve been focused on my writing as of late, happily composing a number of blogvellas, covering topics ranging from the increasing madness of the rapidly devolving alt-Right morass, to the plague of religious zealotry and bigotry, which is sadly still infecting our citizenry, if not their already limited capacity for intellectualism, as well.

As Ruth is currently being set in my own concoction of venomous snarkcrete, the focus of my screed will be happily focused upon her. However, I would be remiss in my charter, if I didn’t introduce you to some new friends, and touch base with a few old ones, as is my way. If I have to list one positive about the modern-day political climate, it’s that it spits out story ideas faster than I can pounce on a box of chilled Ding-Dongs, and trust me brothers and sisters, that’s an equivalent of speed that would make Space=X turn green with unchecked envy.

The conservative cornucopia is literally a Mobius strip of density, and if I were to draw a comparable analogy, it, for a writer, is akin to owning a production facility that churns out magical lamps.

In the past, I’ve highlighted some truly stellar deep-thinkers within my community, such as Ken Cykala, who sees BLM activists hiding in the closet where he allegedly stores his very special 3AM. front-lawn surprise BBQ robes with their matching hoods, along with newer Artbitch scratching posts, Walter L Cook Sr, and Richard “Ricardo” Leyba, who underscore with searing clarity, as to just exactly why we so desperately need to secure perpetual funding for both access to birth control, and the public school system in this country.

But to kick off this side-tangent before we get back to the main course, I’d like to reintroduce you to a previous Blogvella subject, noted flag-hag and Trumpian troglodyte, Nick Lemme. Nick, who’s only claim to fame is that he sports a “F**k Biden” flag in the front yard of his home, located directly across from a school, which only helps to cement my prior opinion about the value of public education, is also a guy who spends a lot of personal time oiling his boom-stick, if you know what I mean.

That is, he’s seemingly one of those paranoid guntards who, because they lack impressive hardware between their legs, attempt to substitute for it with pin-ups from the Smith & Wesson catalog, instead. Here’s the deal, though- while I do fully support the 2A, I also support the strict control of firearms in general, not only for the common sense of doing so, but because of people like Nick, who project the attitude of “I wish a mother would”, while also mewling that they’re the “real” victims of unwarranted aggressive idiocy

Add in his front yard hissy-fit inadequately substituting for informed political commentary, and it becomes clear as to why this country still needs to remind people that you really shouldn’t try to make toast while sitting in the bathtub. On the upside, at least he’s living up to the pre-determined expectation of being that public embarrassment his father always knew he would be. That is, if he actually knows who his father was to begin with.

I’m sorry. That was exceptionally rude of me. For all I know, Nick’s parents could be lovely people. It’s really not their fault that they inadvertently spawned what at best, could be regarded by many as a barely sentient can of AXE body-spray. For all of his patriotic posturing, Nick is what my dad used to refer to as a “gun-fellating f**ktard”, which in retrospective review, makes me feel quite sorry for the gun itself, because mythical Lord knows, we’re all acutely aware where that mouth of his has been as of late- kissing Trump’s porcine ass. And no, I’m not referring to Don Jr.

It’s cringe-worthy enough that Nick slithers through life cosplaying as both a functioning adult and as a man, but when it comes to his sense of faux patriotism, the “urk” factor literally quadruples. In fact, here’s an example of our “real American Patriot”, lavishing praise on a domestic terrorist, and no… I’m not talking about Donald Trump, although the moniker would fit far better than one of his China-made suits:Amazing isn’t it, that a member of a political party that incessantly bleats about how much it respects law enforcement, the responsibility of the 2A, personal property rights, and the Rule of Law itself, seemingly has no problem chucking all those ersatz ethics aside when they’re rightfully depicted as the bad guys?

For the record, the domestic fanatic that Nick probably fondles himself to the memory of, eventually wound up causing over $7M dollars in property damage, as he fired upon police officers and innocent civilians alike, before weaseling out and killing himself like the f**king coward he was. So, given all that, it should come as no surprise that a gasbag like Nick allegedly idolizes him. I for one, cannot wait till that fateful day when he finally dons his camo and ammo, hoping to go out in a blaze of gory, only to take himself out of commission when he accidentally sets off the gun in his dick holster.  

One can only hope. And then, laugh about it for hours afterwards. It’s kind of like when Nick gets laid, except in this scenario, he won’t have to inflate his partner first, and his gun-oil would be used for its intended purpose, for a refreshing change of pace.  It should also come as no surprise either then, that Nick is just as well-versed about the ongoing pandemic as well, and as is the case with the always wrong Right, compares common sense health protocols, as being akin to the horrors of the Holocaust.
For the record, the only thing that is similar to the Holocaust, is THE ACTUAL F**KING HOLOCAUST ITSELF, AND NOTHING ELSE, YOU DICK-BRAINED DUMBASS. However, Nick doesn’t have the exclusivity on being such, when it comes to the lack of intellectual capacity that plagues modern-day conservativism, and he’s most certainly not alone either, when it comes to holding some abominably stupid beliefs, such as fostering the festering of Racism.

Take for instance, this lady of loveliness, one Darlene Gardner Rinker, who espouses the GQP long-held assertion, that not only is inherent racism not an issue, but that they themselves across the board, couldn’t possibly be racist as well. And to prove it, she posted the following not-disturbing-at-all meme to underscore her POV, although to paraphrase Inigo Montoya; “I do not think it means what you think it means”:

Those of you whose souls still work the way celestial Nature intended them to, may have noticed a few subtle takeaways from this completely rational declaration pf “I am SOOO not a Racist, but…” ,

Speaking as someone who prides himself on having a fairly decent grip on effectively utilizing the most descriptive terminology to be found within the spectrum of the human lexicon, I’d have to admit this tone-deaf act of self-ownership has done that which I thought was darn nigh impossible- it literally made me speechless for close to ten minutes, which I’m certain, has not happened once, since I was born.

Let’s start with the most revolting aspect that jumps out at us first, that being the representation of not an American ideal as one might expect, but instead, one glorified by the death-cult facet of the 40’s era NAZI party. What better way to sensitively address the volatile issue of your own alleged ant-racist views, than by depicting a foot soldier of the * Einsatzgruppen? In her limited defense, I can only assume that Darlene found herself unable to find a copyright-free image from **Völkischer Beobachter depicting Jews being slaughtered wholesale, so I guess I’ll digress, and cut her some slack, instead.
*[SS Killing Squads] **{Official NAZI Newspaper]

The second point of interest regarding this Aryan Nation flyer made flesh, is the venomous White Privilege emanating from every single pore of her Caucasian call to arms, not that she’d characterize it that way, I’m sure. The amount of whiningly confirmed racism on display here, is truly epic, if only for its own lack of recognizance, and that’s saying a lot, so I’ll try to boil it down to the candies bitch-slap, as it were, by dissecting this tripe line by line:

“started blaming my race…”
This faux indignation presented by the very same hypocrites who call African-Americans protesting for social justice, “Thugs”, and who seemingly, also have no problem with cops murdering them in the streets, as if they were rabid dogs.
“political affiliations…”
This unintentional joke, shared by a person who regards BLM as no less than domestic terrorists, yet possibly sees the January 6th seditionists as true-blue patriots. But please. Carry on. .
 “erasing my history and started blaming my race…”
Translation: How dare you remove statues of traitors, slave-traders, and the bigoted gentry that purposefully wove racism into the very fiber of America’s soul. Now, please shut up, you uppity you-know-what’s, as I can’t bear your valid discourse overriding my own unfounded self-victimization.
“if you were well off or poor…”
Yeah. We already knew that, given how you fight against paying people a living wage, while screaming that the 1% needs yet even more tax breaks,
“because I worked harder…”
Translation: You Coloreds have no work ethic. That belongs to us alone. And if you would, please ignore the advantages my Vanilla-toned skin automatically grants me, as you have no idea of the burden it has to carry.
“beliefs were different…”
This judgement given to us all, by a person who’s main thought every time they get called out for their inanity is; “This is what happens when you allow our former property to be considered as whole persons, and not just as 3/5’ths of one anymore.”
“My patience and tolerance are gone…”
I’m sure they are, Jan. Because if anything, your unblemished adherence to displaying both with understated humility, is obviously the singular characteristic that the fellow members of your lit-by-Tiki-Torches Book Club, have found to be ever so appealing. .

Now, on the surface, I’d be the first to surmise that one bigoted statement does not a racist make, especially when its removed from any context, and I’d be in the right to say so, but fortunately for my narrative, this triple-K Karen believes strongly in the concept of living your White lie in the public eye:  
Isn’t it amazing that all of these first-hand testimonials always come from anonymous sources? You know, “a doctor”, “a nurse”, “a talking aardvark”, and the like. However, when you take into account how truthful the GQP is regarding the actuality of any issue, there’s probably nothing here to challenge on its face.

Speaking of one’s face, and more to the point, spreading egg all over it…
I tells ya, there’s nothing more unintentionally hilarious, than watching three elderly White people slur organizations they don’t understand, by assigning to them not only what their reason for existence is, but also for what it isn’t. Why does every bigoted bonehead believe, that Black organizations are a catch-all for every African-American related concern? Oh, that’s right… research is really hard to do, when you’re otherwise occupied trying to hide your pathetic paranoia under a veil of supposed moral superiority.

Or maybe, as the example below shows, they’re all just having a collective stroke, which would explain why this conspiracy salad reads less like a political statement, and more like an aneurysm in progress.:
I’ve gotta give it to Grandma Goebbels here, for when she starts pearl-clutching, she does so in a way that cuts off the flow of blood to that sink-sponge she wittily calls a brain, and I say this with the utmost respect. As a rule of dumb, most alleged racists are generally less intelligent than a pile of in-use urinal cakes, but this gal has managed to go full septic-tank, without even breaking a sweat.

Never let ot be said however, that just because someone possesses all the appeal of a vanilla and rancid mayonnaise cookie, that they don’t have a definable sense of humor, I’d hate to sell them short, even if by doing so, I’d seamlessly match their maturity and overall IQ:Oh Darlene, you are a Caucasian’s Caucasian, that’s for damn sure. Managing to take one of our nation’s most revered songs, and in tandem, turn it into a racist and xenophobic slur, in just one take. I can only assume that if you were ever to attend one of those 3AM front lawn BBQ’s I was referencing earlier, that your eventually given nickname would be “Boss of the Burning Cross”.

But Darlene won’t be the only person sitting around the ol’ Caucasian conflagration, no siree Bob. She’ll have plenty of company, as the racist rats who tar and feather, most certainly, like to stay together:

This right here boys and girls, is why you’re supposed to open up all the windows in your trailer when you spray-paint your new living room set. Man, conservatives may not be smart, empathetic, tolerant, intellectually curious, or good people overall, but they’ve clearly got buckets of class to spare. Granted, that class most likely has the word “remedial” in front of it, but it’s still class, nonetheless.

I can only imagine what her lawn decorations would look like, if an African-American family moved in next door, can’t you? Oops. My bad. Did I say “lawn”? Sorry, If a Black family became her neighbors, something tells me that she’d hang the decorations in a tree instead, because you know… tradition?

And as conservative custom dictates, when you’re called out for espousing such immature incivility, just follow the tried n true method of projecting your own faults onto the people you despise, regardless of whether you can make your case or not:  There’s a saying that; “When you point a finger there are three fingers pointing back at you”, and nowhere is this maxim proven to be more accurate then whereas the GQP and its Cult of 45 are concerned.

The exception to this rule, being that when a conservative points a finger at you, they might as well be an octopus. And stepping up to show us all what a squid might sound like, if it interbred with Richard Spencer, is one Dale Pruitt, who combines ignorance, misinterpreted economic data, and political paranoia into a one-man ad campaign for promoting either sexual abstinence, or condom usage:I love it when these twats use political terminology that they can’t actually define, don’t you? And how about that subtle wish for harm directed at two politicians that this ass-clown couldn’t tell you anything specific about, save for the overriding fact that he knows he’s supposed to hate them for some indeterminable reason?  Truly, a sage for the age.

Individually, these wounded warriors of White Pride don’t amount to much, and face to face. most have proven to be outright cravens at best, regardless of how many memes they post, stating otherwise. If I had a dollar for every single time I witnessed a “declaration” or “warning” of an upcoming civil war they wish to one day participate in, my goal of acquiring a vinyl-clad battalion of Milla Jovovich clones, wearing thigh boots, would have been achieved quite some time ago.

So, just fir fun, let’s take a look at some of the ever-so-intimidating “threats” and cautionary notices postured online by those who’s fear of the culturally transitional, ranks just as high as the common knowledge that if a civil war ever did break out, they’d be the first ones on the bus, fleeing to Toronto: Man, if you guys fight half as well as you debate, boycott, or attempt political coups, not only can we kick all of your asses with ease, we’ll do it while sitting on the couch. And if you would be so kind, could you actually describe in specific detail, what is currently occurring that falls under your definitive of “communist”? We’ll be waiting, as I’m sure you’ll need to find that answer out for yourself first.

This message of candied badassery and projected self-incrimination, brought to you by a man who when the “war” kicks off, will be found cowering under his mom’s bed, wearing a sundress, but I digress.Actually Leroy, I don’t know what you mean, as it’s been made pretty clear that God doesn’t approve of killing just for the sake of killing, and secondly, because your grammar presents itself as haven been composed while in the middle of inter-cranial surgery. And if there is a Heaven, which there most certainly is not, you’re still not getting in, as God has gotten sick and tired of you acting like you and he are tight.The only comment that I care to make regarding this Penthouse letter from a wannabe Soldier of Fortune that Nick posted, is this: you did not “fight for peace”, unless you served in WW2, as every war since, has been about making a profit for a few, and serving as a detriment to the progress of humanity in the end.  And may I commend you on your strategic brilliance as well, for making direct threats towards the general public on one of the world’s most scrutinized social media platforms, is nothing short of the purest of genius.

And if there ever was a singular image that screamed out loud that at least one of these two poseur Patriots has a spawn-hammer so small it’s virtually invisible, if not inverted, this one that was combined with the above idiocy would be the one, I assure you:

Maybe it’s just me, but I miss the good old days, when man-boys like these tow testicle-free-twats, used to masturbate to a Playmate’s “big-O” face, and not to photos of ordinance. Why the military didn’t hold onto you longer, given your skillset for remaining within the clandestine shadows, will be the conjectural debate that scholars will ponder for millennia.

The secretarial pool’s loss will be the alt-Rights gain, I guess, as only time will tell, as to just how deep hour f**king personal idiocy goes. Good luck using those menial militia skills of yours when the actual military shows up, and swiftly reminds you and your bigoted brothers in arms, as to why you all work for Subway, and not with Seal Team Six.

I think it’s fair for me to state, that in all of my 52 years of walking this giant f’d-up ball of granite and space-dust, I’ve never seen such a level of emotional and logical disconnection between my fellow humans- outside of the normal stressors to be expected, that is. When conspiracy theories, whispered rumors, and insane sociological experiments gone awry, are afforded the same respect towards their dissemination as facts once solely had, you just know that the species is signing its own death warrant, and giggling as it does so. 

Fortunately for Ruth, my chew-toy of the moment, that unavoidable detail doesn’t seem to bother her one bit. In fact, she almost seems to be looking forward to it, with a glee that I’ve only experienced whenever I get to metaphorically flay alleged wackadoos like her to their allegorical spines. Granted, while she’s not walking down the street, proudly wearing a sandwich board heralding the “End of Days”, she really doesn’t need to, given her access to social media, where her character flaws are displayed for all to see, and mocked mercilessly by many.

And this assessment doesn’t come from me alone, for Ruth herself, is quite fond of playing the victorious victim, as she dually complains about her self-created pariah kingdom, and then happily wallows within it, as its resident martyr:

I’m going to go out on a limb here, and declare that this redemptive fiction of Ruth’s is par for the course, as she consistently seems to suffer indignities of her own device, and then almost immediately, is graciously rewarded by her sociopathic deity for being a truly (pardon the pun) god-awful human being. You know, just as reality is known to work? I don’t know what color the sky is in Ruth’s world, but I can most certainly assure you that there, unicorns are readily available for adoption.

I will wonder aloud nevertheless, as to what benefit Ruth feels this farcical posting grants her as the owner of two small businesses, since publicly admitting you hold ignorant v9iews that cause potential customers to shun both you and your trade work, doesn’t normally add to a strong economic quarter. I can just imagine the sales pitch:

“Hi there! I’m a possibly mentally unstable self-righteous zealot, who believes in Satan, the Deep State, the New World Order, the End of Days, various and insane conspiracy theories, such as Lady Gaga being a member of a pedophilic sex cult, and I want to be your hometown real estate broker and insurance agent.”  
What I also particular enjoy within this fantasy narrative of hers, is the implication that her imaginary antagonist, is the one naturally in the wrong here, and hot herself, which is also one of Seawolf’s standard deflection tactics when she gets called out for her well-honed persecution complex. Always the victim, never the victimize, regardless of the actuality of the situation at hand. Another point of disingenuousness that Ruth excels at, is her thin as onion skin support of the “local”, a position she openly holds, as long as she’s not inconvenienced by having to do so, that is.

I touched upon this ambiguity in a past blogvella [“Hatertriot Lames Pt.2”] regarding her penchant for public spitefulness, but this newest meltdown is a doozy and a half, if not only for the unfounded claims that she made, but for the fact that she felt the need to go on Facebook as well, in order to spread her slander even further, and without justifiable cause:In the interest of fair play, Seawolf did remove this posting eventually, but it was still up for more than a few hours, spreading its message of spuriousness within a small business community where reputation is the key to continued growth and success. And for what reason?

Well, as it turns out, the small business in question experienced a software “glitch” in regards to their credit card processing, a normally minor issue which was later unfortunately compounded into a much larger one, by an internal error committed by the host bank, which accidentally settled the resultant CC batch as it were, no less than three times, according to my sources.

So, if you had ordered a five-dollar latte, you later found yourself inadvertently charged fifteen bucks for it instead. Annoying? F**k yes. Fraudulent? F**k no. And when it comes to Ruth’s “recollection” of how the handling of it went down, her take on it, versus that of the people who were witness to it, vary widely, if I were striving to be diplomatic, which I am not.

Essentially, rather than just accept what was a genuine apology and an obvious solution at face value, this bile-swilling drama queen decided instead, to dive deep into her pathetic sense of persecuted prissiness, and go full “Karen”, because that’s what you do when you’re a 12-year-old spoiled brat trapped inside the body of a middle-aged Christian sacrificial cow.

And just as we’ve come to expect from a modern-day cafeteria Christian, Ruth has yet to apologize for her bout of social Tourette’s, because as we all know, Luke 6:31, And as ye would that men should do to you, do ye also to them likewise”, is really more of a guideline, than a hard set rule for today’s histrionic hypocrite on the go.

Take note if you would BTW, that she was so secure in her claim of victimhood, that she felt the need to “turn off” the commentary on her post, which I’m sure, had nothing to do with the fact that she was getting publicly and solidly lambasted, for her displayed idiocy. Valid criticism, as we shall see, is something that Seawolf handles just as well, if not more so, as her propagation and understanding of the Truth. I swear, Ruth abuses Exodus 20:16 so often, I’m actually quite surprised it hasn’t sworn out a restraining order… yet..

So, let’s all just forget that she posted this once, if only not to cast valid derision concerning her faux devotion to selflessly following the tenets of the Faith she claims is sacrosanct to her life:

After all, I wouldn’t want to embarrass her beyond what she already does to herself, as I’m cool like that. Not to mention that given enough time, Ruth will feel compelled to atone for her immaturity, and offer up a very public apology as a means to repent her sin of arrogant petulance. But then again, maybe I should just hold out hope I’ll get that flying car I’ve always wanted, because that seems far more probable than her ever admitting fault for the repercussion of her actions.

However, I don’t want to not give credit where credit is due, especially as to what some of Ruth’s finer qualities are, and the one thing that I will praise is the fact that despite her numerous personality quirks, she doesn’t’ seem, unlike those others that I discussed earlier, to possess what could be considered a racist bone whatsoever, in that collective slug-pile she wittily calls a body, and that’s actually something we should all laud without question.

I’d offer for the that this is most likely due to a lack of repeated exposure to true diversity, rather then an adherence to the tenets of her hypocritical faith, but I could be wrong, as all things are possible. In fact, I’ll go one better, and willingly state that I’ve never seen anything that she’s posted that has ever had a racial undertone to it, and that’s the Gospel tru… wait a sec… what’s this?Sigh… for the love of f**k’s sake Ruth, couldn’t you have thrown me a bone, so I could at least say one, just one, nice thing about you for a change? I meant, I’m flexible, but ya’ gotta meet me halfway here. For those of you who may have forgotten, George Floyd was an African-American, who was coldly and deliberately murdered by [former and now-convicted] Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin, who caused Floyd’s demise by kneeling on his neck for close to ten minutes, as Floyd lay immobile and handcuffed, face down on the tarmac.

Floyd, who had a rather extensive criminal history, was suspected of attempting to pass a bogus 20 dollar bill, which led to his eventual interaction with the badged sociopath who slew him, and his murder set off worldwide protest across the globe, from social justice advocates alike who demand police accountability, to those who believe that the police who are sworn to protect us, can do no harm, and should be immune from prosecution when they do.

Gee, I wonder which side Ruth aligns herself with, given her self-declared status as a so-called Christian? If only there was some additional evidence indicating where she truly stands, but alas, all we have is this:I so do wish that there was a definitive line in the sand, signifying what the reality of her belief is, but in lieu of further evidence suggesting a tone-deaf cultural bias, it will remain a mystery for the ages, I’m sad to say. But I do like how she still managed to rake a critically relevant social concern, and marginalize it into an ersatz soapbox for the purpose of promoting a myth.

Regardless of Floyd’s past history of criminality, being put down in the manner of a rabid dog, goes against every f**king thing that Seawolf’s celestial savior supposedly stands for. Adding further insult to unnecessary injury, she hypocritically claims this;
… as she seemingly, takes joy in the destruction of a commemoration to a murder victim, which I’d surmise, are hardly the optics that her so-called God would ever reward her for tying him to. This is not to say that Ruth directly holds any bigoted views that are based solely on ethnicity, but if I were Jesus, I’d have sued her for false representation half a dozen times over by now, just to avoid the stigmata of guilt by association.

So, in her own words; “I believe everyone has a right to bear arms and defend their home and family BUT as a Christian, I personally do not believe ANYONE has a right to take a life. Only God has that right”, yet when a man is unjustly executed on the street by a person entrusted with the public’s safety without the benefit of a rial for the apparently unforgivable crime of passing a bad double sawbuck, Ruth just shrugs her shoulders, and invokes her savior’s name when his memorial is laid waste.  

You may not be an actual Christian in word or deed, Ruth, but you sure as Hell are one soulless bitch, and that’s a title no one will ever be able to take away from you, of that I’m certain.

Adding further weight to her indifference to other people’s suffering, here’s Ruth’s brain-dead assessment regarding the January 6th insurrection attempt, inflicted upon our democracy by the traitorous caste of MAGAts, to whom, Ruth grants a Capitol Halls pass of sorts, based on what I can only infer, is a relatable form of kinship:And who are “they”, that desires this secular cultural upheaval, you may wonder? Why, a rogue’s list of villains, of course. N namely, the Democrats, leftists, Antifa, and naturally, the newest of boogeymen, BLM. And since Ruth can’t articulate this fallacy for herself, here’s her cut and paste declaration instead:

Normally, this would be the part where I’d lay down some savage snark as a rejoinder, but given how f**king insane this delusional overview is, by saying that this was somehow a “false flag” operation, despite all the hours of self-recorded and I might happily add, self-incriminating video willingly taken by Trumpeters, a myriad of news agencies, as well as the general citizenry, along with the other evidence uploaded to Twitter and Facebook Live by the same, I’ll just have to let such speak for itself.

 As the scope of its absurdity is far more eloquent than my commentary could ever be, any attempt at doing so on my part, seems almost redundant. Mythical JFC, Ruth, I’ve had the displeasure of meeting some mentally twitted people in my time, but you are truly the closest epitome to the phrase, “f**ked in the head”, that I’ve ever come across.

It’s bad enough that you as an alleged Christian, still support a mango Mussolini who represents not one iota of what you believe, it’s bad enough that you look forward to the fabled Armageddon, but just how f**king stupid must you be that you regard showcasing your willing ignorance as if it were  an act of pride?
For the record, this is not a sterling example of mature rationality, nor is it a sign of a functioning adult- these are the dribbled ravings of either a brain-damaged cultist, or an intellectually-stunted child, to whom, I can honestly apply such a descriptive, as regardless of whichever one you choose to run with, it will fit like a tailored glove.

Case in point, yet again:
On the surface, this may seem like no more than yet some supplementary evidence of Seawolf’s inane zealotry, but it takes a slightly humorous spin when you remember that her primary businesses are selling REAL ESTATE, and PERSONAL INSURANCE. That’s right… the woman reminding herself, and by logical extension, us, that this world is not her/our home, makes her contradictory living not only selling earth-bound homes, but the non-celestial indemnification to protect them, as well.

But don’t worry folks, for when Satan comes to rule over the earth as Ruth’s alleged favorite Bible chapter Revelations decrees, rest assured, that he’ll most certainly honor all of those fiduciaries she brokered during her stay here. Correspondingly, if she also truly feels that she need not “conform” to this world and its ways, based on the erroneous belief that an eternal reward awaits, then why does she demand that this world bends to hers?

I’ll speak only for myself here, but if I’m just happen to be passing by a vegan restaurant, you won’t see me stopping the car, walking on in as if I own the place, and loudly start mandating that they put a Veal Parmesan special on the menu. Just saying.

However, Ruth and the assumed voices in her head, know far better than us black-hearted heathens, what’s really going on, which I can only guess, is just one of the numerous advantages of being besties with God. Emboldened by this unique insight, Ruth generally displays no fear when giving her unsolicited, unhinged, and unfounded, opinions, and freely speaks her supposed mind, despite all blatant indications that she really shouldn’t.

Whether it’s promoting the never-occurring accomplishments of an impotent President;Or comparing said morally bereft president to Jesus Christ, despite his being the one person having more in common with Judas Iscariot himself; far more than anyone else within his notably corrupt admiration. And while I have previously posted this particular meme in an earlier blogvella, I feel compelled to do so yet again, because it’s just too goddamn insane not to enjoy twice;
Alao making its second appearance, is this ill-informed critique, concerning one of today’s most popular entertainers, who remains mostly unknown to Ruth, save for what she’s heard about them on FOX and OAN. And since we’re all here, let’s take a moment to appreciate the delusional skill-set necessary to amalgamate pedophilia, Satanic worship, and Politics, into a declaration that foreshadows just why her future bedroom will most certainly, require padding from floor to ceiling:

Since we’ve all witnessed the depth of Ruth’s grasp on the aspects of pathogens, it might seem somewhat churlish of me to mock her even further, but hey, what’s the point of being called “Artbitch”, if I didn’t practice my craft?  I tells ya, this crazy-ass wench does write the best unintended comedy, and someday, I may need to get her something really nice for doing so.

Maybe someday, I’ll pony up my petty cash, and buy her a nice psychoanalyst along with a pair of pliers to pull that crayon that as a kid, she jammed up into that stale pack of communion wafers she calls a brain. But until that glorious day arrives, enjoy yet another slice of half-baked lunacy loaf, buttered only with the finest blend of paranoid zealotism:
If you’re ever compelled to try and truly understand just how goddamn malleable to outside influences Ruth’s intellect is, keep this particular post in mind. Not only is she quoting a talking-snake-oil salesman who received his deaconship training via an online school based out of Mesa, Arizona, she does so willingly, to the point of unfathomable absurdity. And helpfully, after beseeching her fellow wackadoos to “pray over your body everyday”, she’s prescient enough to list the components that might require it

Even though, as I’m sure you all noticed, she didn’t specifically list their brains, because to be fair, most modern-day Christians cut from her cloth, don’t really use it all that much anyway. And as if I summoned her, using only the power of her false God’s name, and the reading of the product inventory of a Hobby Lobby by candlelight, Ruth comes along to prove my point yet again:
And keep in mind… this person is freely allowed to drive, handle sharp objects, buy a gun, breed, and vote. Just as if she were a functioning human being, which at this point, should make some of us considerably concerned for the safety of not only the ones closest to her, but to anyone she dislikes as well. Other than the fact that the majority of ideas expressed within this psychotic break from reality have been widely and openly debunked, such evidence means nothing to Ruth, regardless of what source provides it

Now, we all know Ruth has internet access. We all know she understands English. And we all know that given enough time, if not personal determination, she could do her own research and attempt to back up her typically half-assed POV. But it is Ruth we’re talking about, so we already know that’s not even a remote possibility whatsoever. Especially when she purposefully ignored what was posted with the news story she purported as accurate and factually occurring:
Please take note that are no less than FOUR different sources listed, proving that Ruth is not only dead wrong, but subtly indicates as well, that she should have just admitted that she was, swallowed her bitter pill, and move on to the next faux outrage that catches her obsessively delusional eye. But as expected, being wrong isn’t ever Seawolf’s fault, nope, it’s the world’s media outlets that are incorrect, along with the person who pointed out her arrogantly incorrect mistake in the first place.

Nevertheless. when it comes to incorporating compulsory derangement into her everyday life, few can best Seawolf’s acumen for doing so. Take this modest example, wherein Ruth envisions a sinister correlation between the benefits of a decreased murder and self-harming incident rate, and what else, the Global Cabal that controls everything, albeit the prices of Doritos, to just how many bottles of Sudafed you can buy at one time:Reading her comment regarding an “ulterior motive”, literally makes me feel that I’ve dipped into Ruth’s magic medicine cabinet, and gorged myself on her stash of crazy pills. I mean, she’s “against” murder, as if it’s a publicly supported thing, and by that notation it could be assumed, suicide as well, but this news of positive change makes her unjustly concerned, regardless?

Yep… that makes total sense. Decry the destructive acts of murder and suicide based upon your faux faith, but criticize the methodology in which they’re being successfully nullified. For f**ks sake Ruth, and with all seriousness, could you select a consistent opinion, and F**KING LAND ON IT, FOR ONCE?

Speaking of consistency, and the lack thereof, Ruth’s opinions on the moral choices of strangers, which have zero to little bearing on her own wretched life, ring even more hollow, when you factor in her near-sociopathic penchant for posting debunked conspiracy theories and wished-for falsehoods based on Machiavellian machinations so intellectually thin, that even super male model  Derek Zoolander could follow the narrative, and that dude can’t even turn to the left.

Given Seawolf’s numerous public displays of a rapidly declining grip on reality, some of you might suggest that I should go “easy” on her, but that’s simply not going to happen. The only thing pompous jabberers like Ruth respond to is being dragged out into the light, and between you and me,, I plan to shine a spotlight on her focused so goddamn tight, that it’s going to make the chastity belt Ivanka Trump wears whenever she finds herself alone with her father, feel as if she’s gone commando in a hurricane. .

Now, exactly why Ruth feels entitled to conceitedly judge others, as she concurrently whines when the same happens to her, is not that hard to figure out. After all, she purportedly is one of God’s chosen, and therefore, as someone anointed in the magical blood of a celestial zombie as it were, she has the moral high ground, if I were to hazard a guess.

So, let’s start off with that Christian alt-Right classic, the unforgivable sin of legalized abortion, and how, despite the reality of what Science says, and the fantasy of what the Bible stipulates, it’s nothing less than cold-blooded murder. And who better to inform us all of this “fact” than Ruth’s Poseur Pastor? With all due asceticism, there’s no opinion we should trust more than one that comes from a member of the opposite gender that will never be tasked with the burden of making that most difficult of decisions, let me tell you:Maybe someday, one of these cafeteria Christians will be able to tell me that even though their deity said NOTHING about abortion in the Bible, and tries naught to stop it, despite his being theoretically all-powerful. So, given that he supposedly is, just why do his followers feel chartered to carry out his nonexistent obligations in his place? Come to think of it, why would the celestially residing Architect of Al,l place any form of trust in his most flawed creation to do the right thing to begin with?

After all, it’s not like us talking monkeys have an excellent track record in regards to that sort of thing. Sure, I understand his wanting to be worshiped 24/7 thing, but if I had created the Universe entire, I’d like to think I’d make my presence directly known every now and then, in order to make things better overall, for my favorite pet project, don’t ya think?

Weird that our Heavenly Father so-called, seems completely powerless to affect the direct consequences of the decisions made by the end product of his substandard engineering, if I were to be so bold in my random ruminating.

And as an aside, if you’re going to take a moral stand, you probably shouldn’t quote the of the founders of a country=y who just so happened to own slaves, and who enjoyed a level of respect and social privilege afforded to him by his status as a wealthy White male landowner.,. you know, the ones that unlike women then and now, don’t have to worry one iota about having their reproductive rights relating to the concept of personal body autonomy legislated?

But who knows- maybe Jesus is ultimately cool with having men dictate the uterine interludes of close to half the world’s population, and his dad just forgot to annotate it. However, like most instances where conservatives fail to either prove their case or score points by the use of crafted falsities or cherry-picked quotes from a fantastical fairy tale tome, Ruth relies on the time-honored act of deflection, by comparing two dissimilar philosophies, and then declaring them as akin to identical twins:

Considering that the clearly stated mission of PP has nothing to do with what Seawolf demands a resolute answer to, I’ll try to overlook her pathetic attempt at drawing a false parallel where none obviously exists. Kind of like how the GQP demands that BLM be held solely responsible for repairing the social disparities of the African-American community, as conservatives actively work against any progress they try to make in doing so.
And as to the statement of “And then come tell me that pro-lifers are the ones that don’t care for children after they’re born”, all I can say is; “Yes… you don’t care. And now, I’ll tell you why.”

If you actually gave a damn, you wouldn’t cut their food, housing, and medical assistance, as you actively underfund their education, paint their parents as over-breeding parasites, and ignore the ever-present specter of teenage pregnancy, when it’s your ilk, gathered as a hypocritical collective, that denies said at-risk demographic, unfettered access to birth control and sexual education resources, such as the ones that PP provides, but I digress.

I could also point out that if abortion was truly the issue you were concerned about, versus the obvious one instead, which involves your wanting to control and punish women for their continuing resolve in determining what they do with their own bodies, then you’d have zero issue adequately funding the tools required to safely and supportively, end the practice, once and for all. But let’s face it… you do, and its as wretched as your blatantly faux self- righteousness concerning it.

Here’s the rub, Bub- if you keep claiming that you can’t be “forced” to take the COVD vaccine for the greater good, then guess what? You don’t get to demand that women as a whole, acquiesce to your will for the same reason, either.

And since we’re talking about what Women in general, are allowed to do without the need or prerequisite to ask permission from total strangers first, let’s cast some light on what advice Ruth believes they need to hear from a middle-aged White woman who’s so well-known in my town for being a tight ass, that the rumor of DeBeers using her as a diamond manufacturing facility, once they find a way to switch her diet from consistently eating crow, to occasionally swallowing lumps of coal, seemingly more plausible, day by day:You heard it here first, you hedonistic hussies- you can’t truly represent God if he can see your Devil Dumplings, even if he’s the one that originally designed them for you, just a heads up.

Sure, those angels who look like babies can fly all over Heaven without a stitch on consequence free, but you’ve got to remember that if you do get sexually harassed or assaulted, based on the bullshit that you were “asking for it”, remember, it’s not the man’s fault for doing so, but yours instead, for daring to think that you have the birthright to walk around outside of your home unmolested.

And you know deep in your heart, that this advice is sound, because it was reposted by a woman who most certainly, was a virgin when she got married, and continues to dress herself as if she were a couch ordered directly from the discount section of the Hobby Lobby website.

Not to mention, we should all ponder on what the Bible says the role of women is as well, in order to provide some moral guidance to today’s disrespectfully carefree modern woman. Take Titus 2:3-5, for instance: “Older women likewise are to be reverent in behavior, not slanderers or slaves to much wine. They are to teach what is good, and so train the young women to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled, pure, working at home, kind, and submissive to their own husbands, that the word of God may not be reviled.”

In other words: “Shut the f**up woman, get your ass in the kitchen, and make me a sandwich.”

Building upon this theme, is this delightful slice of misogyny, straight from the small dick energy that is the passage of Timothy 2:11-15: ”Let a woman learn quietly with all submissiveness. I do not permit a woman to teach or to exercise authority over a man; rather, she is to remain quiet. For Adam was formed first, then Eve; and Adam was not deceived, but the woman was deceived and became a transgressor. Yet she will be saved through childbearing—if they continue in faith and love and holiness, with self-control.”

I’d happily point out that Ruth ignores every demand within this edict, but as we’ve seen, she’s a Christian very much in the same way that I was an understudy for Daniel Craig in the last four 007 movies.

Wrapping up this train of disingenuous thought,  there’s also Proverbs 31:30; “Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.” Timothy 3:1; “Their wives likewise must be dignified, not slanderers, but sober-minded, faithful in all things”, which when presented with Ruth’s allegedly consistent bearing of false witness, also counts as an affront to her purported deity.

And who of pure faith could ever forget Corinthians 14:34-35; “The women should keep silent in the churches. For they are not permitted to speak, but should be in submission, as the Law also says. If there is anything they desire to learn, let them ask their husbands at home. For it is shameful for a woman to speak in church.”” The underlying takeaway from this of course, is that Ruth herself, has been a very bad girl, according to the very Word she claims to follow, but obviously, hasn’t either read, or ignores outright.

However, the clearest indicator of how Ruth’s religion, fueled by ignorant chauvinism, “values” women overall, is best summed up by this passage from Genesis 3:16: ”To the woman he said, “I will surely multiply your pain in childbearing; in pain you shall bring forth children. Your desire shall be for your husband, and he shall rule over you.” But hey… that’s what you ungrateful bitches get, for Eve’s sin of eating that apple God placed directly in front of her, despite his knowing exactly what was going to happen when he did so.

Nevertheless, ignore all that, as you need to go home right now and change out of that whorish outfit you decided to arrogantly wear in public, lest the menfolk within eyesight, start sinning unabashedly after seeing your mommy marshmallows. I wonder however, whether I should feel either offended or gratified, that at no point in my entire life, that I, if not most men for that matter, have ever been instructed as to what I should or shouldn’t wear.

Outside of my girlfriend politely suggesting that perhaps, wearing my well-loved Deadpool on a Unicorn t-shirt, might not be the best thing to wear to a funeral, but you get the gist of what I’m saying. Although I still maintain to this day, that my Uncle Frank would have loved to see me sport this at his wake, and with no small sense of pride, I assure you.I’ll happily admit that while it’s been ever so much fun mocking the numerous deficiencies glaringly evident as to where Ruth’s lackluster efforts to successfully pass as a functioning human being are concerned, they pale in comparison when weighed against the public perception of her within the small town where I currently reside.

Openly considered by many as being arrogantly judgmental, woefully uniformed, hilariously hypocritical, somewhat prone to paranoia, susceptible to the most ludicrous of conspiracy theories, and most certainly, bordering on the edge of religious extremism, she, as the evidence collected throughout this particular screed has shown, is far more likely to be criticized than canonized for her idiocy veiled as religious expression, and she is well aware pf this, hence the perpetual state of her claimed victimhood.

And in relation to her Teflon-coated grasp on the reality of modern-day politics, these postings of hers I think, only grounds my ongoing assessment of her intellectual inanity, that more securely:Finally, the truth comes out! The supposed billionaire who’s infamous for committing fraud, filing multiple bankruptcies, and whining like the candy-assed bitch that he is, worked for us, the American people, for “free”, because as we all know, when you’re known for stiffing charities and your workers alike, your sense of moral obligation to the greater good has to make itself known at some point, right?

Never mind that Trump, who claimed throughout his failed presidency that his tax filings were “under audit”, only did sp because he made more money using the office as a grifting tool, and didn’t want to show the American people his taxes, due to the falsehoods contained within that would be put on display for all to see. No, we should all ignore that fact, and instead believe that he ran only out of a sense of moral obligation to clean the metaphorical swamp of “filth”, which truly, is a noble act of service,

Especially given his lifetime of self-serving avarice. perversion, and cowardice.  Call me crazy, but for some strange reason, I don’t think a guy accused of 25 counts of sexual assault, who was caught bragging about such, as well as his attempt to “nail” a married woman on tape, and who publicly vomited his desire to “date” his own daughter, should ever be held up as the chosen one tasked with carrying the torch of moral righteousness.

Unless of course, you truly believe that repeated instances of adultery, and paying off the pornstars he raw-dogged with a personal check, as his second wife and ex-mistress was at home recovering from the birth of their first child, somehow deserves style points. And as a courtesy, I won’t even address his intimate connections to five well-known pedophiles, or the fact that his administration had one of the lowest rates of conviction regarding the act of sexual trafficking, in recent presidential history.

I can only wonder, given the staunchness of Ruth’s moral metronome, what she must have thought when her mango love-crush was asked about Ghislaine Maxwell, the former girlfriend and alleged procurer of eventual victims for the late sex trafficker Jefferey Epstein, and he responded [over two interviews] with;

“Her friend, or boyfriend, was either killed or committed suicide in jail. She’s now in jail, Yeah, I wish her well. I’d wish you well. I’d wish a lot of people well. Good luck. Let them prove somebody was guilty. I’ve met her numerous times over the years, especially since I lived in Palm Beach, and I guess they lived in Palm Beach. But I wish her well, whatever it is, I do wish her well. I’m not looking for anything bad for her. I’m not looking bad for anybody. Her boyfriend died. He died in jail.”

To be fair, he did later attempt to nullify his remarks by notating that he knew Epstein; “like everybody in Palm Beach knew him”, adding that; “I had a falling-out with him. I haven’t spoken to him in 15 years. I was not a fan of his, that I can tell you.” Now while the circumstances behind their estrangement have never truly been clarified, it’s been alleged that Epstein’s eventual banishment from Trump’s Mar-a-Lago resort, was because he had made an inappropriate advance on the teenage daughter of a club member.

Sure, Jan. I can buy that.

In fact, it’s quite believable to think that the man who once boasted to a journalist that the 14-year-old girl he had just been talking to, would be dating him in 10 years, because that’s the type of thoughts you should have relating to a child when you’re 52, as he was at the time, and who originally said of Epstein in a story published in New York Magazine;

“I’ve known Jeff for fifteen years. Terrific guy, He’s a lot of fun to be with. It is even said that he likes beautiful women as much as I do, and many of them are on the younger side. No doubt about it – Jeffrey enjoys his social life.”

I’m going to just come right out and unabashedly say it- I for one, can’t think of anybody better qualified to drain a swamp, than the person who was content to use it as a prey-ground, until he realized that the moral mud within it, made it damn near nigh impossible to sell it’s brackish water to Evangelicals such as Ruth, as the purest of tonics. That’s just my informed opinion, for what it’s worth. Which ironically, still holds far better resale value than any of the delusional bullshit that comes out of the dumber than f**k screeching maw, that Ruth calls her mouth.

Despite her propensity for being possibly more useless than a bag of broken hammers, there is however a line in the sand that even Silver City’s resident doyenne of density wouldn’t dare cross, no matter what:
Man. That is some serious laying down of the law there, boys and girls. Truly, a stronger declaration of personal integrity has certainly never been uttered like this before, and to be honest, I almost feel kind of bad that I’m about to take it out to the allegorical woodshed, and go full-on Ed Gein all over it.

At the moment, the only thing that all of the unwarranted audits and recounts have proven, and that, beyond a shadow of a doubt, is that Joe Biden still won the election, Trump is a whiny-ass bitch, and that pathetically clutching jackasses like Ruth, are the primary reason why plastic grocery bags still require a printed warning not to put them over your head.

I particularly like her assertion that; “if Trump had won by cheating, lying, fraudulent acts, and deceit, I would definitely not be proud of the win, and would seriously rethink my candidate”, a declaration so hypocritically inane, that even the mythical Satan himself, is impressed at the brashness of its blatantly ignorant facetiousness.

With no due respect, you wouldn’t “rethink” anything Ruth, as you’ve never possessed the ability or the slightest acumen required to undertake the act of thinking to begin with, as evidenced in your slavish devotion to both a fictional sky-daddy, and his cravenly contradictory opposite, a self-invented mango messiah, lauded by outright morons, of which, I consider you to be in enthusiastic alignment with.

The reality s it were, when it comes to your self-declared thinking skill-set is this- if his well-known and well-explored, track record of business fraud, money laundering, sexual predation, adultery, bigotry, false fabrications, treason, disloyalty, and attempting to overthrow the democracy of the United States by using his personal cannon fodder, that being dumbf**ks such as yourself, wasn’t strong enough to get you to reconsider your support, then you truly are beyond all hope of moral salvage.

It’s one thing to be willingly deaf, dumb, and blind, in the face of reality, Ruth. It’s quite another thing altogether however, to take inordinate conceit in being a truly terrible human being, who’s only contribution to the legacy of earth-bound joy, will be when you die, and your organs are parceled out to those good people who unlike you, are actually worth saving.

Although to be fair, they won’t be able to use your skin, due to its thinness, or your eyes either, because of their current inability to see what’s right in front of them, and when it comes to your heart, well… I’d wager that when the transplant team cracks open your chest, and finds itself staring into the black void that resides in its place, there’s going to be some questions asked, for years to come.

Fortunately for my narrative, I’m not the only one who feels this way, as Rut’s own flesh and blood has expressed the opinion that she’s quite the gullible fool, and in an ironic twist of fortuity, the proof of this interfamily discordance was happily posted by no less than the village idiot herself:Wow. Just “wow”. Not only has Ruth openly surrender her patriotism, her body autonomy, her soul, her intellect, and her Faith, to America’s Angriest Creamsicle, she’s unashamedly thrown her own family atop the funeral pyre shoddily constructed by the world’s most despised failed mail-order meat salesman, as well. A simple question Ruth, if I may? When you denoted to “His Word”, were you referencing your Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, or the word salad edicts uttered by Donald Trump?

While some may consider my pointed query to be the height of insufferable rudeness, I say it is not, considering my confidence in stating that I strongly doubt that you can even tell the difference betwixt the two, anymore. That is of course, if you ever were able to in the first place. For the official celestial record, the only thing that Donald Trump shares in common with Jesus Christ, is the willingness to embrace the morally corrupted, and that, for vastly different reasons.

The key difference being Ruth, that whereas your mythical messiah attempted to redeem their endangered souls, yours instead demands that they sell theirs to him for little to no benefit, whatsoever. Not to mention, when Jesus found himself hanging out with prostitutes, he didn’t wind up marrying them, and he sure as hell wasn’t tearing a C-note on the bedside ox-cart when he left their room, either. Once again, we see the common thread that binds Ruth’s wretched world view to her transparently defective psyche- she’s not the fatuous fly in the ointment, everybody else is.

And pray tell, who is “everybody”, you ask? Well…they’re the Media that accurately reports the news she doesn’t want to hear, the scientific and medical community that uses facts instead of nonsensical theology to find the answers to society’s ills, the women who refuse to be good little fembots for God, the Atheists who refuse to allow her Dogma to run over their Karma, Liberals who truly represent the qualities of Humanity that Ruth fails to attain, and apparently, her own family in the end.

Out of all the stuff that Silver City’s resident cannoneer of Christian cray-cray, I actually find this to be dually, the saddest and most repugnant thing, that she’s ever written, hands down. You “rebuked” your own flesh and blood in deference of a narcissistic, sexually perverse, and disloyal craven, who if you were set aflame, wouldn’t bother to piss on you, and you’re proud about that? I said it earlier, and now I feel obligated to say it again;  JESUS F**KING CHRIST, WHAT THE F**K IS WRONG WITH YOU, LADY?

Newsflash, kiddo: the only purpose you currently serve your supposed Lord and Master, is as an example of what type of Christian NOT to be, and as a future personal best for dropkick yardage, when he boosts your insane ass off of his front cloud lawn, and straight into the bowels of Hell, where you’ve been slated to arrive, for quite some time now. And I say this as a guy who paid for his Condo overlooking the Lake of Fire in full, thanks to my week-long stay in New Orleans, during 1993 Mardi Gras.

But for those of you who aren’t fully convinced just yet, as to how deep the rabid rabbit hole of Ruth’s political personality disorder goes, here’s one final nail in the lid of that particular conservative coffin:

“Amen” says the faux Christian, regarding false claims… seems about right. As you can tell, and as I’ve previously written about, the theme of personal persecution at the hands and bequest of an imaginary enemy, is a crucial component within the boiled block of SPAM that passes for Ruth’s critical thinking skillset, and nowhere is this more evident than when she posts on social media about what’s going on in her day-to-day life.

Every accidental overcharge or unforeseen alteration by a local business, is “fraud”, every story casting her mango Oompa-Loompa in a negative light, is ‘fake news”, and behind every call for social justice, body autonomy, or freedom from the oppressive yoke of organized religion, is a calculated attack by agents of Antifa, BLM, the Deep State, the murdering bastards at Planned Parenthood, or possibly even the pedophilic blood-sacrifice cult that Lady Gaga works hand in hand with.

You know… when she’s not busy in the recording studio, that is.

But as usual, I’m getting slightly ahead of myself and the narrative to come, so I’ll just post one off her more recent “woe-is-me” offerings, and then provide the necessary context on the back end:So… full disclosure. The “man” that Ruth is referring to as the gargantuan pain in her intellectually larded ass, is none other than yours truly, a position I find myself to be more than happy to be currently occupying, when it gets right down to the brass tacks. However, like most of Ruth’s nattering narratives, it deliberately glosses over a few key details that besmirch her claim of unwarranted victimhood, as is her way.

Now, while some of Ruth’s cravenly Christian cabal may see a faint halo around her countenance, I’d opine that it’s nothing more than the permanent chalk outline that she’s drawn around herself, so that she can play a martyr victim, for whenever she’s the recipient of a valid rebuff that strikes far too close to home for her limited intellect to adequately respond to. It’s a darn shame that being a histrionic harridan in is no longer considered a viable career path, for Ruth here, would be a natural at it.

To start, no one has been “harassing you for some time now”, especially me. Not only have you and I never met, the range of our interconnected relationship has been no more than you being an unwilling subject in my personal writing, which you’ve obviously never read, nor has anyone else who’s remotely connected to you. Of course, if you’re actually now reading this, I can only welcome you to the free show, and assure you that while this is not the beginning, it most certainly isn’t the end of my mocking you, either.

And the best part? You’ve provided close to 75% of the comedic relief for free. All I really have to do, is crack some jokes, draw a few parallel observations, and kick back, feeling the joy of having done an honest day’s disparaging. An even better aspect of these screeds is that the bulk of the material within, is sent to me by people you do (and don’t) know, which I then investigate to verify its authenticity, and most importantly, its accuracy.

People in this town genuinely despise you, Ruth. The best I’ve ever been able to successfully achieve, is not getting asked out to a nice lunch every now and then., which let’s face it, is nowhere close to the infamy that you’ve managed to stoke. And that, on natural ability alone, which quite honestly, almost makes me feel like I’m not even trying my best some days.

As to your untruthful dissertation that you’re being specifically targeted due to your being “a Christian who stands up for what I believe”, no, you’re not. First, you’re a Christian in the very same way that Donald Trump is, and second, because you are quite literally, the end result of what happens when you allow an ill-informed, false witnessing, conspiracy theory babbling, duplicitous, walking, talking, urinal cake, full internet access, without demanding an IQ test as a critical facet of the authorization to do so, first.  

Whether you like it or not, whether you want to admit it or not, the truth of the matter is that you’re being taken to account for your abominably ignorant fallacies of opinion, your hypocritical and cherry-picked faith, and your willingness to deliberately harm members of my community by spreading demonstrably false and dangerous misinformation, all while posturing as both a victim, and a victorious warrior under the direct commend of a mental delusion, masquerading as a Supreme Being.

That’s it. No more. No less.

What you fail to understand, and calculatingly so, to be certain, is that you are still somebody’s employee, and consequently, are still subject to the companies’ rules, policies, and mission statement thereof, and you know it. If you can go on Facebook and slur a local company with slanderous and unfounded charges of malicious fraud and not apologize for doing so, after the situation is resolved, then I sure as f**k, can complain about your increasingly bizarre and unhinged public statements to the unfortunate organization that oversees you, as well.

You don’t like it? Learn to live with disappointment, as it’s going to be your dance partner now, and far into the future. And unlike the majority of your scurrilous claims, I can at least back up my commentary, using the evidence pulled straight from the horse’s ass herself- namely, your very own words, postings, and public declarations.

Shockingly, most modern-day companies in this, the age of viral social wildfire, tend to take a rather dim view of their trusted associates going online and openly ranting about the Deep State, The NWO, anti-vax conspiracies, Satan existing as a physical entity, the arrival of the End of Days, and the like. Other than such talk being woefully inaccurate, if not completely batshit crazy, it can also damage established reputations concerning the trust their customer base has placed in them.

In addition, when it came to hearing that you publicly declared that Tom Hanks had been allegedly arrested for being a pedophile, as you once implied on Instagram,..Yeah. They undeniably and understandingly, were so not cool with that, given the legal ramifications of you tying their company to such defamation, but please tell us all once again, how you’re the true victim in regards to your publicly presented and wholly malevolent actions, as collectively, we could all use a good laugh at your expense. Hence the reason, why the people in charge above you, told you to cool it with your ludicrous bullshit online, if you wanted to continue selling their product.

Nobody, not them, not me, not even Satan or the New World Order itself, tried to have you }shut down”, based upon your faux Christianity, you paranoid, asinine, duplicitously deceitful twat, and you know that. However, I’d garner you wouldn’t be able to so freely drink the good will offered up to you by your fellow gullible Granfalloons, as if you were a starving succubus, if you, for once, actually told the whole of the truth, now could you?

Amazing how you always seemingly fail to note your own culpability in regards to your self-created drama, but I’m sure that’s nothing more substantial than just an implausible quirk of coincidence. That’s the resultant problem when an adversary has kept all the receipts of your ranting, as I’ve done, for your own words make the case far better than mine ever could. So seriously… thanks for all the help with the heavy lifting, Ruth, as it’s truly appreciated

Regardless of all that however, I’d still be somewhat remiss if I didn’t pay proper tribute to those select aspects where Ruth’s inherently flawed intellectualism, far outshines the rest of her arguably questionable character flaws that I’ve called attention to thus far. Granted while it’s obvious she doesn’t even know the intricacies of her own alleged faith, ironically, it’s that very same density which inevitably, always leads to her unfounded claims of facing ‘persecution” for being a person of such.

The cold hard veracity in play here Ruth, is that if there was no meat whatsoever to chew on, your authoritative betters would have sent the sandwich I presented to them straight back to me, and they sure as heck, wouldn’t have continued to take my calls and emails regarding your balderdash, either.

My favorite moment that I just have to share, was when I was on the phone with one of their representatives reading them some of your crazy-ass commentary, and the person on the other end of the line said, and I quote; “Jesus Christ, this woman needs help”, an opinion I feel is even more comfortable agreeing with after her bananas claim that her “every move and word is being watched and reported”, as if she had run afoul of the KGB.

But yes… all of this must be my fault alone, you sanctimonious wench. However, Ruth’s reverse soliloquy of spiritual suffering, wouldn’t be complete without her captive audience of Christian flunkies, and as you can imagine, they were more than happy to join in on the Groupon discount for torches and pitchforks, which as a person of thriftiness, I can totally appreciate.

I do find it amusing however, that despite her plea for God’s direct intervention in “dealing” with me, the best battle-hardened army that he could muster up, is one comprised of MAGAts who at best, intellectually present as if they’re the morning shift at a 3rd rate strip club. Sure, one or two of them may be worth getting a lap dance from, but the rest? Past their prime, and their expected paygrade, to be sure.

In an attempt to clarify as to why it is that I find Ruth’s so-called Posse of the Pulpit so inconsequentiality deserving of anything save my mockery, I’ll lay out some of their ”calls to harm” as it were, and you’ll be able to see for yourself, just why there’s so many laws on the books regarding who you’re genetically allowed to marry within your immediate family tree.

First up in the blather box, one Lynn Ross Frost, who I can only assume, is the type of person who thinks that Mermaids exist, given the nature of her “threat”, that being a host of Angels set loose upon yours truly, which to be fair, could result in my suffering some grave injuries… mainly to my diaphragm, from laughing my ass off:As usual, I won’t s[peak for you, but if James Cameron ever made this scenario into a summer movies starring Angeline Jolie, I would watch the ever-living f**k out of it. However, I do have a few minor points to quibble about, if I may.

First, if you ask God for a “host: of 1000 Angels initially, I’d seriously doubt you’d need an additional 23K [the full total of the complement deployed within a 24 hour span] to , as you so lovingly put with the purest of Christian love,  “fight and take down, annihilate and destroy the platform of this spirit [Moi?] of the Anti-Christ”. Seems like overkill, but what do I know? After all, my brain unlike yours, actually still works, and I’d hate to harsh the mellow you receive masturbating to that Avenging Angel fantasy loop you’ve got playing in your otherwise empty head, 24/7.

And yet, here you are, thinking I can’t be thoughtful, when the need arises That’s just downright hurtful. Also, my delusional dipstick of divination, “annihilate and destroy”, mean the same f**king thing, so perhaps the next book you endeavor to read should be a thesaurus, instead of that assemblage of sociopathy you acquired your sense of alleged morality from. Just a friendly suggestion. 

Following in Lynn’s single set of footprints John Patrick Griego, decides instead to take a softer approach, and instead, bestows a blessing of sorts, on both Ruth and the souls of those coming for her, which even I, the resident cryonic, has to admit, is kind of sweet, overall:Despite that truly warm benediction however, John sticks to the party line calling for… what else, the “destruction” of Ruth’s supposed adversaries. Of father amusing interest to me is the fact that even though Ruth personified her current imaginary enemy list to one single man, that being yours truly, John’s bloviated beseeching, suggests that she’s facing a merciless cadre of ne’er-do-wells, instead.

Dude, I’ll happily admit that while my ego is large, it does have its limits, so work on your context, right after you brush up on your obviously lacking comprehension skills. Oh, and John? The cops don’t exist to carry out the edicts of God, what with him being a myth and all, but guess what? They also don’t exist to carry Ruth’s personal axe collection, either, hence the reason why whenever she walks into the local station, they play “Paper, Rock, Scissors”, to determine who unfortunately, gets to deal with her this time.

Need some supplementary evidence of that? Well, here you go:What I’ve continually enjoyed from these onion skinned internet law scholars, is what particular offenses they feel, necessitate the inclusion of law enforcement, regardless of the situational subtext they find themselves in.

Modern media is rife with stories where self-appointed guardians such as Ruth and her equally vapid vanguard, have wasted and squandered the resources of local and federal agencies reporting “crimes” that in actuality, weren’t crimes to begin with, and most importantly, never will be.  

While it is a crime to directly harass someone at their place of employment or residence, it is not illegal to  openly report their acts of increasingly bizarre behavior to said employer, nor is sharing their publicly accessible commentary to the same, As I stated earlier, no meat, no sandwich, no follow-up order placed.

The personally embarrassing detail that your supervisor/s started monitoring your public displays of erratic behavior far more closely, once they had been alerted to the content of what you’ve been happily inflicting upon your undeserving community without concern, is irrelevant, given the fact that the responsibility for incurring the consequences assigned to your words and actions, is still yours to shoulder, no matter who or what, you try to shift the blame to.

Deflection and an aversion to that which is actual, seems to be a tried-and-true approach for Ruth, so feigning fears for her well-being, be it emotional or financial, to the local constabulary, hardly comes as a surprise to anyone familiar with her cowardly tactics. While her penchant for disingenuousness has been established beyond=d arguable reproach, she never tires of engaging in it, especially whenever she fee;s she can derive some personal benefit from it.

For instance, Ruth’s respect for law enforcement, apparently hinges on whether or not its involvement in her life assists or impinges upon her endgame goals. Her church gets shut down for violating COVOD protocols? TYRANNY!!! COMMUNISM!!! AN ACT OF SATAN!!! By jackbooted and overstepping agents of the Deep State, but when it comes to her failed attempts to use the cops as a conduit for enacting personal revenge against her many detractors?  

Well then… you’ve never met a more honorable group of public servants, let me tell you. And yes, she was thoughtful enough to provide a shining example of how she truly feels about the established law of the land whose values she claims to respect, because she’s cool like that:
At this point, we’ve all seen incontrovertibly just how ardently Ruth follows the edicts of her supposed Savior, so I can only imagine what “Laws of Man” she believes apply to her, and which don’t.

My previous blogvella from over a year ago, addressed Ruth’s supposed interaction with those she felt were there solely to pursue her [as yet] unproven assertions that she was being harassed and that her home and businesses were being specifically targeted (and allegedly vandalized) by an unknown and subsequently unnamed [not me] entity, and within that very screed, I stated that under no circumstances, should such actions [if credible] ever be considered acceptable, regardless of what Ruth had said or done.

Short of raising dalmatian puppies for the sole purpose of either eating them, or turning them into coats of course, because let’s face it, you gotta draw the metaphorical line in the sandbox somewhere.   However, as I’ve noted oft before, I live in a very small hamlet, and if anybody residing in it, was up to half the stuff that Ruth has claimed they were up to, it would be all over the grapevine. And as far as the rumor mill goes, one doesn’t require “proof” so much as they require the courage to call said person/s out for it.

Isn’t it odd though, that Ruth never does? And as I get to know more about her, I’m starting to think that like the “evidence” she sees of Satan everywhere, these reports of personally directed attacks might also be no more than smoke and mirrors, as the saying goes.

Taking into account that the people and faux faith she allies herself with, are relentless in forcing their mythology into the communal fabric of a country growing increasingly hostile to its intrusion, one can easily surmise what social abominations she would willingly inflict upon her fellow humans if she were allowed to be free of the consequences of doing so.

Come on now, you say, aren’t you taking a page from Ruth’s praybook [pun intended] and being a tad bit melodramatic?  Honestly, I don’t think so. In fact, I’d suggest that if anything, I’m being fairly diplomatic about the situation at hand. Let’s all keep in mind that her fellow Mythketeers have expressed, and in some extreme cases, tried to enact legislation, that would foment their fascist fantasies into hard cold reality, for just not themselves, but upon a wide and unwilling swath of the United States citizenry, as well.

To note, these Christian Cornucopias of Craven intentions, has tried to regulate women’s body autonomy, attempted to criminalize gay marriage, and reduce the civil rights of the LGBTQ community, demanded that Creationism and the theology of the Bible be referenced and taught in public schools and held to a higher respect than established science,  as they scream about being “Pro-life” while gutting social aid programs that directly help children and families.

All of this by the way, as they rattle their sabers in preparation of a fantastical upcoming Civil / Holy war, in which, their zombie Zeus will allegedly return, and settle the hash with their invented enemies.

And out of respect for your sanity, if not reality, I won’t even begin to dissect their bullshit assertion that because they’ve been denied the spiritually-based stipend to legally harass and discriminate against the people and gender identities they abhor, they’re the ones being truly “persecuted”, instead of the ones they’re dying to victimize and marginalize.

Therefore, I can comfortably say, and that with a great deal of personal certainty, that Ruth is perfectly fine with breaking whatever law she would speciously rationalize as being against God, because in the end, if the cops aren’t going to do the dirty work that she’s obviously too chickenshit to undertake herself, what value could they possibly have?

There’s a maxim that has been wrongly attributed to Socrates that states; “When the debate is lost, slander becomes the tool of the losers”, and while the true origin of this quote is still ironically, in the throes of civilized debate, it’s inherent message remains stoically relevant, nonetheless. If I were going to add a modern-day footnote to this wisdom slice, I’d most likely add that; “And when slander fails, the next tool in the box is the threat of violence”, because that’s the only one that this gaggle of gaseousness know how to wield.    

Speaking of which, let’s get to a few more invectives of insanity that were hurled my way, so we can all take a moment to revel in the fact that even when we were in kindergarten, we knew exactly how all the paste-eaters were going to turn out. Like my newest internet schooled lawyer Ray Irving, who not only gets it wrong when and what for an order of protection is granted, but also fails to equally work out exactly why Ruth finds herself in Dutch with her corporate masters as well: For those of you not in the loop an “order of protection” as it applies to New Mexico law, is a court-issued directive to your former spouse & abuser to stay away from you, and to not commit further acts of domestic abuse. As it’s clear that neither I, or anybody else that Ruth perceives as an enemy for that matter, falls under this purview, Ray’s suggestion is not only wide of the mark, it’s also an insult to those women facing the very real (and possibly deadly) threat of continuing violence.

But oh no… somebody pointed out to Ruth’s employer using her won words and public actions, remember, that she might be just a few months shy of wrapping herself inn tin-foil to keep out the mind-control rays of the Deep Sate, and somehow, that translates into a viable threat in regards to her physical safety? Got it, Ray. You’re just as f**king dense as she is, and trust me, I appreciate all the hard work you had to put in to grab that brass ring.

Hopping aboard the celestial carousel, we have Daniel Paredes, who suggests to Ruth an approach that quite honestly, I did not see coming, and I tend to be a guy who’s knack for being able to sense “crazy” from quite a distance away, has served as the inspiration for a litany of tall tales, if not ribald songs: .Okay. I have to ask a small favor here- is there anybody familiar enough with the tenets of Christian cray-cray who can tell me how I can be placed in Christ’s hands if they’re not the appendages used to pick me up in the first place? Not to mention, once I’m in God’s hands, would it be rude of me to ask for a Shiatsu massage? Because I bet that guy has amazing hands. It stands to reason that if he can raise the dead, he most definitely could do something about my chronic sciatica, too.

And failing that, should I try to figure out the intricacies of how mentioning my name to Him, compels Christ not only to take care of Ruth’s business, but to appear at the sound of it, as if he’s Beetlejuice?

Sorry… that should have read “Betelgeuse”, damn my stupid Voice to Snark phone app. And yes, that IS how it’s spelled in the movie, no matter what you might have been led to believe:
See? Unlike Ruth, I back my shit up. Seems a far easier action to undertake than to just pull fabricated falsehoods out of my ass, but far be it from me to take away the only creative outlet that Ruth possesses. But never let it be said that the rest of Ruth’s crew aren’t creative, even if it’s the truth.

For after all, I am sympathetic concerning the difficulties these people must certainly encounter when designing new and inventive threats, given the fact that the majority of them have only only owned one book in their entire lives and even then, still haven’t n=made it past the first paragraph of Genesis. Take for instance, this intellectually blistering retort by one Rikey Ferrell, who truly brings what I can only assume is his GED certificate, to the proverbial throw-down table, for me to use as a napkin:Now for the record, I am aware that his real name is obviously “Ricky”, or some variant thereof, but considering the intellectualism attached to his “threat”, I’d still have to trust my hunch that nobody ever taught him how to spell it properly to begin with, so I’ll cut him some charitable slack in that particular department. But as to the rest? I’m not entirely sure what advantage Ricky thinks knowing my name will grant him, past the understanding of how well it’ll flow off his tongue when he says it.

Accordingly, I’m also at a loss as to what Ricky is referencing when he says “it” will go away, once my name is uttered to the wind at large, as the last time I checked, you’d still need at least a truckload of black candles, a sacrificial goat, and several boxes of expired Ding Dongs, to send me back from whence I came, but maybe he’s just being an optimist at worst.

You know, just like when he posted this fourth-grade taunt, and thought it made him sound like a badass? And in yet another hypocritical twist, Ruth who once posted that she was “required to forgive everyone”, “liked” the comment, which just goes to show you, that her principles, can be discarded faster than she can blame others for her own foldables, which let’s face it, is a speed that one day, mathematicians will be forced to finally develop a theorem for.

But Ricky isn’t the only one who’s thinking about me, not by a long shot. Richard Shetter here, for instance, is apparently incredibly inquisitive as to what I look like, because he seemingly thinks that posting it online will somehow concern me past the point of being flattered that I finally have a stalker who’s collecting Social Security:Sure, Mathew 5:44 may contain the following advice; ‘But I say to you, love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you and persecute you”, but such wussy treacle is highly inconvenient for when you’re trying to pretend that you’re a moral person, despite the evidence that proves you’re not, am I right? However, since Richard looks like this;

I can totally understand why he thinks other people might be cowed by having their image circulated across the Web, although this hands down, may be the best cosplay of a boiled ham that I have ever seen  

I made my peace with looking as if I were the offspring of an illicit love affair between Jesus Christ and James Hetfield of Metallica, quite some time ago, so I’m drawing a genuine blank as to what horrific fallout I’m expected to receive from people I already don’t like, respect, or most importantly fear, if they get a hold of my graven visage. Of which, 8 x 10’s are available either via my gift shop, or directly through my OnlyFans site, when you sign up for the Platinum members package.

Nevertheless, Richard did ask, and that, rather politely, for my photo, so in the interest of fairness, I’ll provide one, so that when he’s all alone at night, seething to the brim with his old white guy rage, he’ll at least have an example to illustrate his nonsensical revenge scenario with. Personally, I like this one showing me at work, having the kind of life that Richard wishes he had, but could never achieve, given his lack of personal charisma, if not mental acumen:

Now, whatever you do Richard, please don’t share this photo, because I’d find it really embarrassing if everyone saw it, checked out my website at www.waynemichaealreich.com, and either bought something, or worse, hired me to write something for them. I honestly don’t think I could handle all that unwanted attention, so I beg you… please, please, please don’t do it.  Well, at least not until I get the newer work up, that is. I dp try to keep it fresh, whenever possible.

I wonder if I should also point out to Richard that it’s damn near nigh impossible to cast a sense of chagrin upon a person who not only writes about the skeletons in his closet, but who also leaves its door open, so that they can dance the Electric Slide, as they mix up yet another batch of kickass margaritas.

See, when it gets right to the meat of the chimichanga, there’s very little in my life that I’ve been embarrassed by. I’ve written extensively about my medical issues, my sexual experiences, my relationships, and in a moment of inspiration that I still get email about, I wrote a story about posing in the nude for a fellow artist, and then, POSTED THE IMAGES ONLINE of both the resultant painting itself, and the modeling session that led to its creation.   

But yeah…. your snide remark on an internet-acquired picture of me, created using the photo app on your phone, will be the metaphorical sword of purest silver that brings me to my knees, begging for mercy. It’s that kind of infectious optimism that probably causes me to think that selfie of yours looks more like a casual portrait, rather than the image one sees on warning posters taped to the light poles at the darkened edges of a child’s playground, but that’s just my opinion, flippant as it may be.

But the best comment on Ruth’s plea for unwarranted sympathy, just has to be this one, posted by, and I swear to mythical God that I am not making this up, the spectacularly baptized Bendesida Bienveniidos, who is going to wind up as either the main character in an upcoming work of fiction involving the spiritual journey of an ABBA worshiping cult, or as the name of a Bond villain intent on world domination, using the most diabolical of weapons, that exploits the gullibility of the common man to devastating effect.

Oops my bad. A super-villain already invented organized religion, didn’t they? My sincerest apologies to all that have gathered round. But I wasn’t kidding when I said that I love her comment, and after reading it, I hope you can see exactly why I do:

This may be the best opening to a pointless prayer that I have ever seen in my life, and I say this as a person whose name has been dropped into a lot of prayers, be they for me, or aligned against me. I am kind of sad though, that this screencap which was sent to me, failed to capture the entire breadth of the comment, but I’d say it’s safe to assume that the remainder would be more of the same Nazarene Yadda Yeshua, Yahweh, bunkum that we’ve all come to expect from this bunch.

Seriously, I can’t think of anything that tops “We bind the demonic operating in this man’s life”, and I doubt that I ever will. Toss in the added spice of having the so-called Holy Spirit “loosed” upon me in the name of Jesus, (naturally), and it’s fairly obvious that my upcoming weekend is gonna be just packed. On the upside, she also does throw in a request for me to receive some blessings in the end, but I’ll only receive those (I guess?) after my demonic tendencies get trussed up like a Christmas goose that’s into BDSM.

I hate to be the one that clues you in on a not-so-obvious certainty, but if those two New Orlean strippers weren’t able to successfully “bind” my far more prevalent demonic spirit back in 1993 during Mardi Gras, most assuredly, your mythical spiritual trifecta doesn’t have a Sno-Cones’ chance in Hell, either. Trust me on this, because not only were those two exceedingly dedicated, there’s no way your knowledge of knot-tying could even remotely compare to theirs, which, when I recall it, seemed quite extensive, given their age.

As I come to the end of this, my latest human-scratching-post dissertation, I’d like to take a moment to offer a direct comment to Ruth herself, if you’ll allow me the grace to do so. If at this point Ruth, you still feel the unwarranted need to play the victim, may I suggest that you go onto the World Wide Web and complain some more to the planet at large? After all, it’s worked out pretty good for me as a dedicated career, and the working conditions are just great.

Granted, you’ve been attempting that for quite some time now, and although you’ve failed wretchedly, if not consistently, I really do think that if given enough time and a lifetime supply of Paliperidone, you could in theory, achieve actual competency at it, and possibly in even less time than you may think. That is of course, all based on whether or not you can get those paranoid delusions of yours, under some form of stabilized control

And just in case you were wondering why I soberly say this, as I recommend her liberal use of Paliperidone, a drug used to treat the ravaging effects of unchecked paranoia, it’s because  the symptoms of clinically defined paranoia are as follows:

(1) An unhealthy fixation that others have hidden motives, which are often perceived as targeted persecution, (2) Feelings of suspicion and distrust towards others, (3) Quarrelsomeness and petulance, (4) Poor relationships with others, (5) Lack of understanding into the speciousness of their views, (6) Holding grudges against others for their alleged digressions, (7) Recalling actions inversely from reality, (8) A sense of defensiveness, (9)  Feelings of hypervigilant anxiety, and lastly, (10) Repeated attempts to pursue legal action, based on the false certainty that their rights have been violated.

Now… does that sound like anybody we know? Take all the time you need to formulate your answer, and when you’re ready, please remember to present it to the studio audience in the form of a question. Traditionally, when I normally wrap up one of these in-depth screeds, I characteristically save the best as it were, for last, but due to the inane density of the posting I’m about to share with you, I’ve decided to turn my conventional take onto its head this time around, and close with a taste of the truly pathetic, instead.

As we’ve all discovered by now, Ruth’s debatably warped choices regarding just how she interprets the dogma of her supposed faith, not only influences the direction of her life, but the dubious beliefs she’s coagulated within. No matter how one might charitably decide to look at it, this state of alleged willing mental derangement, is unarguably just tragic, having been set in the most impenetrable of illogical bedrock, and is therefore, possibly and theoretically, irreversible.

I draw this overall conclusion not from just the numerous examples that Ruth herself has provided, albeit unknowingly, but from the pages of the spiritual tome that she repeatedly claims to be willing to lose everything for. This glaring hypocrisy, proven once again by her own words and actions, runs concurrent with her continuing support of a man so ethically challenged and morally corrupt, that even the Hell-trapped soul of William “Boss” Tweed, marvels at his brazen audaciousness.

In regards to the list of Ruth’s character… let’s just call them “quirks” for now, since “flaws” is way too on the money, that I’ve assembled for your [hopeful] reading pleasure, I’d happily note her outright falsehoods, half-truths, high-school-level-histrionics, slander, passive-aggressive bullying, outright paranoia, biblical and personal hypocrisy, concocted delusional theories pulled off of the internet, as well as out of her ass, along with her consistent public performances portraying a victim that’s considered so over the top, that Tommy (“The Room”) Wiseau wants first crack at optioning the film rights to it.  

All jokes aside, I’m fairly confident that many in my town would esteem my tabulation as a noble attempt at the cataloging of perhaps her best qualities, since the general consensus by those very same individuals, would be that they didn’t think she had any to begin with. What can I say? My writing sometimes bridges the gap. Decidedly, it can’t do anything about the permanent one that’s located between Ruth’s ears, but an Artbitch can always dream, I guess.

If one thing has been made abundantly crystalline clear within this screed, it’s that Ruth truly believes that her allegorical God  “talks” directly to,(and sometimes through) her, to the discomfort of the rest of us who understand that’s not a sign of celestial communication, so much as it is the first symptom of conceivable schizophrenia, rather than any form of divine ordainment. This is not to make light of those suffering from the after-effects of mental illness, mind you, but to draw a parallel to the suspected one that may be taking hold in Ruth, , that is to say, if one hasn’t set up shop already.

To discuss this last piece in the f**ked-up human puzzle-box I in my singular opinion, believe Ruth to be, we need to start at at the very beginning…. literally. From Genesis: “In the beginning, God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. And God said, Let there be light: and there was light. And God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light from the darkness.”

So right off the bat, we all know that this God dude has some serious juice, and he isn’t afraid to use it. But the fairy tale only gets better: “And God said, “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness: and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth.”

:So, God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them. And God blessed them, and God said unto them, “Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it: and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth.”

And then in act of pure fatherly love, God cast out Adam and Eve from the Garden for Eve;s “sin” of eating an apple from a tree that he calculatingly placed in her path, knowing full well beforehand, as he’s omnipotent, that she was going to do so. Several millennia later, he once more showed his “love” for the humans he created, by drowning the world entire, because the creatures he created with a deliberate flaw weren’t kissing his ass enough, but on the upside, we did get a rainbow out of the deal, which is why there’s never been a deadly flood anywhere on Earth, since.

Oh, wait…

Going forward with his ineffable plan, the all-powerful God who created everything from nothing, decided that when the time had come to send a heavenly emissary to Earth in order to “absolve” mankind from the original sin he had cursed them with, he chose to take a truly novel approach to the issue, rather than start from scratch, because apparently, he can only do the “create a person from nothingness” trick once, and I guess at the time, he couldn’t find anyone with an extra rib to spare, either.

Nope, his go-to brilliant idea was to instead, impregnate a married teenage girl, and that, without her consent no less, as if he were Zeus, so that she and her cuckolded hubby could raise his son to adulthood for the sole purpose of his being crucified, the after-effect of which, was his rising from the dead three days later, like you do when you’re a celestial zombie. The benefit of all this, is that by doing so, he “saved” all mankind from the sin, that once again, was the fault of his (and our) absentee Holy Father.

Yup… no plot holes there, boys and girls. I can’t imagine why more people don’t get in line for the wafer, believe you me. Throw in the stories of a woman being turned into salt, angels murdering children, groups of townsfolk threatening to rape angels, and being offered someone’s daughters instead, and that whole apocalyptic Terminator movie scenario at the end of it all, and it’s truly a mystery to me, as to why we as a society, don’t allow this ideology to be taught in our public schools over the obvious blasphemy of established science.

And in all of this, Ruth believes. Well… that parts that aren’t inconvenient to her narrative anyway. That’s why she can slander, bully, victimize others, and bear false witness, without fear of reproach, because you can’t be held to account of\r face penalization enacted by a deity that never existed in the first place.

Maybe it’s due to the fact that God, the all-powerful King of Kings, lacks coherent communication skills, Now, as someone whom has been accused of the very same by more than a few exes of mine, I could posit that this difficulty might be due to his being a man, and as a gender, we’re not really known for that sort of thing, but I don’t think that’s really the case here.

As I recall from my Catholic school days, God speaks to us through the Word, dreams, visions, prophecies, his directly sent heralds or angels, prophets, and for some as yet unknown reason, his image, via toast, water stains on ceilings, and the occasional; cloud formation. And don’t even bring up that whole started on the burning bush thing, as I’m pretty sure that’s just the fevered imagination of a man who had been wandering lost in the desert for a number of years, subsisting on nothing but Manna.    

I’m not suggesting that Moses was high or anything like that, but dehydration and living on the Jewish equivalent of Top Ramen has just got to take its toll on you after a while, let’s be honest.  And id we’re going to be, does it make sense to anyone with a working intellect, as to why the most powerful being in all of creation, was able to craft the Universe from nothing, yet seemingly, can’t figure out how to set up a Twitter or Facebook page?

Heck, even Donald Trump managed to do that, and his DNA produced Eric, Don Jr, and Ivanka, who is the closest thing to a living breathing Fembot, that this planet has ever seen. So, what’s God’s excuse, other than the fact he’s mythical and works in so-called [aka nonexistent] ways? Rega5dless of this blatantly obvious logic-hole in her faith’s spiritual dinghy, Ruth sees “signs” everywhere, and I do mean everywhere. And believe it pr not, I’m not necessarily aligned against the possibility of such random occurrences happening, every now and then.

The key word here, being “random”, of course. There is no preordained celestial plan currently in play, that at any point, now or in the future, controlling, shaping, or testing your life. Now whatsoever, At best, you are subject to the cruel whims of uncontrollable fate, and that’s about as good as it gets for any of us, albeit as a group, or as individuals. Shit just happens. That’s it. No secret machinations resultant of a sky-daddy’s input, and most certainly, no oversight from such, whether it be from the heights of alleged Heaven, or the depths of allegorical Hell.

Grow the f**k up, and deal with it, already.

But in Ruth’s mind, the root of logic is not only unable to find firm purchase, it wouldn’t survive for long if it did, given her willingness to take the random, and ascribe undeserving relevance upon it. And this, (finally) brings me to the last brick in the immeasurable wall that separates her intellect from reality: At first perusal, there’s a few delicate threads to untie here, the first being that there’s obviously some form of pressing family drama occurring, and as I have no idea of how to ascertain correctly what was going on at the moment she posted this. I’ll hold my characteristic snarkiness in deliberate check. In addition, I’d call glowing attention to Ruth’s purchasing winter appropriate clothing for someone whose particular circumstances necessitate it, so kudos to Ruth, in a delightful change of pace, for actually following a biblical edict to its accorded conclusion.

And because it was a nice thing to do, I’ll forgo my nagging cynicism that she only mentioned it as she did, to acquire some “I’m a good person” stickers for her fridge display.

But as with all things quintessentially Ruthesque, it dives headfirst into the bubbling  Jacuzzi of Christian cray-cray, and resurfaces, proudly clutching one of God’s “little signs”, that He in his infinite wisdom, prefers to spread his message with, versus the more rational options of either utilizing modern-day media, or going full-on Old Testament, and issuing a booming proclamation of his personal involvement from the gathered clouds above, instead.

But as noted, the Lord thy God, works in mysterious ways, which is super convenient for when anyone questions either his followers pr the clergy that fleeces them, as to why he seems more akin to an absentee landlord, than the loving and dedicated father, correction, “Daddy”, Ruth believes him to be. Sorry… I think I just threw up in my mouth a little, due to that disturbing and gag-inducing alliteration of referring to the Holy Father as “Daddy”. I ask you… is it just me, or is that just seriously f**king weird?

And while that reference may be somewhat subtly disturbing, it pales in comparison to the “proof” that Ruth openly presented as being a direct correlation to God hearing her prayers:I’m not sure how to say this without being exceedingly harsh, but without a doubt, this may be singlehandedly, the stupidest f**king thing that I have ever read in my entire life, and I say this as someone who once worked his way through the entire Twilight series and Fifty Shades of Grey, as an exercise in personal sadomasochism.

It’s so goddamn absurd in fact, that I’ve been unable to come up with a better joke than this: “Saying you found “Jesus” inside a New Mexico Walmart, is like claiming you ran into a “John Smith” inside the Mormon temple in Salt Lake City.” Thanks to her inane interpretation of how she thinks a mythically omnipotent deity would communicate, this weak-ass slice of acerbity, is quite literally, the best I can do at this time.

In all honesty, I have no idea what could be alternately funnier than Ruth seriously thinking that God “talked” to her via a Walmart receipt, can you? And despite the fact that the very continued existence of the Walmart empire attests undeniably that there is no God, Ruth will still view this random act of non-connected coincidence, as credence that he’s visibly present, which to some extent, is tragically sad, if not definitively insane.

Granted, it’s no more or less insane than declaring the existence of the Deep State, that Lady Gaga is a member of a blood sacrifice cult preying on innocent children, or that masks and vaccines are the Mark of the Beast, to be sure, but somehow, for some reason, this almost feels like she’s on the tipping point between presenting herself as a walking punchline to an unfunny joke, versus her eventually being unwillingly medicated, for the betterment and safety of the community at large, if not herself.

Soldiers dedicated to a cause are dangerous, yes… but even worse, are the martyrs that very same cause can create. The NAZI’s had Horst Wessel, the White Supremacy movement has Dylann Roof, and the MAGA’s Marmalade Minions, have January Sixth seditionist Ashli Babbitt and disgraced Minneapolis police officer, Derek Chauvin, the convicted murderer of George Floyd, as icons of patriotism, who sacrificed all for the greater good.

The greater good of course, being reserved solely for those who are White, Christian, Conservative leaning, and just so happen to be huge fans of the foulest of fascism, that is the underlying ideology of the Cult of 45. But then again, I repeat myself. And therein lies the larger issue: how do you salvage the intellect of those who’ve willingly surrendered it to the most delusional of demagogues?

With that set of specifics in mind, note that It’s not enough that we vanquish the ignorance of the asinine such as Ruth, it also needs to be implemented in such a way that allows these deluded MAGAts the ability to willingly reintegrate back into the society that they currently despise, and are seemingly terrified of, as well.

While the thought of crushing their infantile hope for shaping America into a perverse parody of itself, is an  entertaining concept yo contemplate, you have to also grasp the reality regarding persons who, influenced as they are by the ravings of a madman, will not go gentle into that good night. And as we all saw on January Sixth, more than a few of this rabidly ravenous marmalade mob, are open to the idea of sacrificing themselves, if not the rest of us as well, to appease their mushroom-dicked deity of density.

And when it comes to the personage of Ruth who seemingly places the all-too-real Donald Trump in the same pantheon that she does the wholly mythical Jesus Christ, I have to wonder just how long it will be before I and my community, witness her train not only coming off the rails entirely, thereby enabling my cynical assessment of her, to be presently nailed to the concrete with ten-foot spikes.   

But once again, I could be wrong. After all, Ecclesiasticus 21:5, taken from Ruths compendium of fantastical tales does say that “A prayer out of a poor man’s mouth reacheth to the ears of God, and his judgment commeth speedily”, so maybe I will find myself facing some form of celestial tribulation, with the end result being finding myself in line for the escalator going straight down to Hell, when all is said and done.

 And Ruth? Well… maybe she’ll be given the chance to walk smugly past me, as she enters Heaven via the VIP line, but I doubt that will happen. Not singularly due to the fact that God’s a myth mind you, or that her devotion to his Word is as thin as her skin, but because when the judgment bells toll, she’ll discover to her dismay and my delight, that even God, much like the majority of his most flawed creation, prefers the company of kind atheists over that of hateful Christians.

But don’t you worry about Ruth, kids. When she fails to ascend during the Rapture, I’m sure we’ll all be able to read about whose fault it really is, on her Facebook page. I’ll roll the dice right now, and place mu money on Satan of course, for switching the “Up” and “Down: signs on the celestial elevator.

“Zealots are totally incapable of any emotion other than rage. It is an unalterable law that people who claim to care about the human race are utterly indifferent to the sufferings of individuals.” –
Quentin Crisp, The Last Word: An Autobiography

 

 

 

 

 


Ruth-less Sheeple. (The Divine Profit-see)

“In ordinary society, superstition sells faster than science.” – Amit Kalantri, Wealth of Words1

Salutations, Bitchiteers!

Are we all having a blessed day, or is it just the same ol’ thing you always deal with? You know, because the concept of “God” is just a human-invented metaphysical construct to explain all that which we at one point, did not understand?

I thought so.

And as you may have already guessed with that none too subtle shot across the bow, this time around, I’m gonna talk about God, or to be more accurate, the melange of magical thinking and outright delusion that certain people of Faith incorporate into their lives, very much in the same way that I used to with hot strippers, but now accomplish somewhat satisfactorily, with a platter of perfectly chilled Ding Dongs.

That optimal serving temperature by the way, is set at a frosty 42 degrees, which, when it’s taken into account that “42” as noted by the computer known only as Deep Thought, as being; the Answer to the Great Question… of Life, the Universe and Everything, it all comes full circle for those of us prone to exploring the innermost aspects of our psyche, which reminds me of a favorite joke by British comedian Jimmy Carr:

“When I was a kid, I had an imaginary friend and I used to think that he went everywhere with me, that I could talk to him and he’d hear me and grant me wishes and stuff. And then I grew up – and I stopped going to church,”

Ouch, Just… ouch. I know that God is rumored to have a great sense of humor, [See: “Design of the Platypus”: “Male Orgasm Face”\ but I can only imagine how he’d respond to such a bitchslap, given the fact that he‘s lauded for being a far more laid-back and forgiving  deity ever since the New Testament came along.Well. Can’t argue with that, even if he is only a myth, constructed out of a need for answering the [at the time)] unfathomable, and maintained out of ignorance and a standing desire to shirk one’s personal responsibility for one’s actions, but I digress for the moment. Yes, you heard that right. He’s not real. Never was. At least not in the way you’ve been taught- sorry, I meant to say “indoctrinated”, but I was trying to be polite. Spoiler alert: THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS “GOD”.
I’m terribly sorry, truly I am, to have to be the one who has to tell you the truth, but you’re older now, and it’s time you started using rationality as your mental cornerstone, and not the magical thinking and ineffective prayers of a naïve child. Look… you were fine when you found out about Santa last year, and even I was impressed how well you handled it for a person who’s only in their teens.

I’m sorry… you’re actually in your mid-fifties now? And you still believe in a magical sky-daddy who answers your supplications? Prayer works, you say. Satan is real as well, you also claim. And what’s that? When the “end” comes, those who believe in this Bronze Age fairy-tale, will be magically lifted skyward to lounge eternally in God’s pool-side condo, known far and wide as Heaven, while the rest of us rational people, will remain on Earth to face Tribulation under Satan’s brief time of rule, and after that, Eternal Judgement?

And here I was, thinking that Science, Logic, and Reality, gave me all the answers I required. Silly me.

This is not to say however, that Faith in and of itself, is a bad thing, as I can personally attest to its application as both a shield and a crutch, during some terribly difficult personal challenges that intimates of mine =have faced, but these days? It’s more apt to see it wielded as a sword, to rationalize behavior that literally violates the purest tenets of the convictions these holiest of hypocrites claim to hold so dear.

Essentially, what I tend to believe is that the Word, false as it appears, is meant to unify and inspire, not divide and justify harassment or bigoted exclusion,, despite the fact it was originally designed to control a highly uneducated and superstitious populace, who demanded answers from those who quite honestly, did not have the ability or the prerogative to provide them. But that was then, this is now, and we no longer have a need for encouraging an unhealthy state of delusion.

But, you should probably keep in mind, I say this as a 52-year-old man, who still believes that one day, he’ll be a voice in a PIXAR cartoon, and will hopefully find himself trapped in an elevator for a few hours with this lady:

And no… I’m really not interested in hearing what Reality, the restraining  orders, and her still in good health husband have to say about it either, as it’s bad enough I have to talk about it in my weekly court-mandated therapy group. Stupid legal system. Always getting in the way pf what would be a fabulous friendship for the ages. But on the upside, her attorneys seem very nice, so that’s a plus, if you’re inclined to make lemon meringue out of lemons, that is.

However, the topic of the day is centered on the religious and the hypocritical alike, and fortunately for me, both of these attributes are merged as one within the people I’ll be metaphorically shredding into Bantha fodder, in this, the latest of my screeds that highlight my ever so cynical perspective regarding the world entire. If there is a silver lining within this Golden Calf to be discovered, it’s that whenever I think I’m out of story ideas, the fantastical and imaginary deity of all creation, in his grace, always decides to drop off a gift box at the Lair of Snarkiitude, and I’m off to the races, yet again.

So, you ask, who finds themselves looking up at the freshly sharpened blade of my internet guillotine today? Well, because I like to shake it up every now and then, I’m going to take a diverging path from the story-arc pf the last two Blogvellas, to which, I will return at the soonest opportunity, and reintroduce a few old favorites, along with a self-declared “Man of God”, who in my opinion, may not possess feet made of clay, but I cannot say the same about his alleged faith.

Then again, maybe it’s perfectly normal these days to pimp Jesus and his misinterpreted works, as if you’re Dolemite, and I’m just seeing things from the wrong angle. Accordingly, may I present, along with an unexpected cameo or two, my newest acquisitions of, arrogant self-righteousness, Pastor Caleb Cooper of the new Hope revival Church, and making a return visit to these pixelated pages, his most lost of lambs, Ruth Darlene Seawolf!

As just notated, Ruth is no stranger to the Snarklands, but Pastor Caleb? Literally, just stepped off the boat, and the plates of Christian crow he and Ruth are about to be force-fed aren’t going to sit well with either of them, if truth be told. And what pray tell, is the “Truth” anyway? Well, the definition of Truth is set as: “the body of real things, events, and facts: actuality”, or for those who appreciate irony, given the very nature of what is at best a ludicrous belief system; “transcendent fundamental or spiritual reality”, which never fails to make me giggle, no matter how many times I hear it.

If my mentioning Ruth fails to ring any bells for both new and old readers alike, I recommend that you reacquaint yourself by going here; https://waynemichaelreich.com/hatertriot-lames-pt-2-razz-the-ruth/ and after that interlude of insanity, jump right back in with the rest of us. Don’t worry. We’ll wait.

(plays a few games of “Tetris” on phone, has brief, but intense, debate about the importance of Phillips-head-screws to the Star Wars Universe, and finally caves in and orders 1983’s “Ice Pirates” starring seminal TV actor Robert Urich, off of Amazon Prime for later viewing.)

Up to speed? Awesome. So, let’s get going again, shall we? To start, I’d like to voice and then bolster my opinion, that when it comes to practicing disingenuousness, these two are preeminently, the Deacon and Disciple of the art Ruth, as you now know from your reading assignment, believes not only in the End of Days and the definitive option of Saran’s rule over Earth, but seemingly, every alleged conspiracy theory involving politics, culture, and of course, the ongoing COVID pandemic, all served up with an overflowing side-dish of Christian cray-cray.

From an outsider’s POV, she comes off as the end result of what would happen if Newsmax f**ked Alex Jones, and then abandoned the newborn baby, just outside of Kelly Ann Conway’s home meth lab. This is naturally, an obviously absurd statement, designed for the purpose of provoking a humorous reaction, but I’m sad to say, that I can’t say the same for this: I think it’s very important that we all take a moment  of pause, to ruminate over the fact that this pile of dumb-f**ked DNA, is not only allowed to drive a car, handle stabby pointy things, use a toaster unsupervised, and vote, but was also permitted to be spawned as well, which not only makes me weep for the failure of the condoms that could have prevented her birth, but raises the contemplative entertainment value of what might happen if you put her into a round room, right after telling her to go find a corner.

I don’t think that I have ever said this about any person, albeit they be living or dead, but given all that I’ve compiled since my last exploration of her public inanity, I do think the odds are better than average however, that one day, she’ll be the only person on Earth whose house will have to be outfitted with mandated bubble wrap, in order to keep her from injuring herself. I’ll even go one step further, and say unequivocally, that not only has Ruth never read her personal copy of the Bible, but it’s in such pristine condition, that if and when she ever does dare open its cover, its binding is gonna crack open, as if it were a virgin from Utah.

But when it comes to her poseur Pastor Caleb Cooper, on the other hand? Well, if he chooses at a salad bar with the same discerning eye that he cherry-picks the Word, I can guarantee you, that this man has never once eaten a brown piece of lettuce by accident in his entire life. Sure, most look to the Bible for either inspiration or direction, buy in my estimation, this real-life *Reverend Shaw Moose, ostensibly views it as if it were no more than the celestial marketing version of “Extraordinary Popular Delusions and the Madness of Crowds” by Charles Mackay. *[The anti-fun preacher from “Footloose”]

However, considering that one of the most relevant quotes from the book is as follows; “We find that whole communities suddenly fix their minds upon one object, and go mad in its pursuit; that millions of people become simultaneously impressed with one delusion, and run after it, till their attention is caught by some new folly more captivating than the first”, he might just be on to something, if my opinion manages to hold the water of its alleged truth.

What do I base my cynicism in, you query? Why, good ol’ social media, of course, what else? After all, If I have to offer my snark up for public dissertation regarding Ruth, it seems only fair that her Christian Obi-Wan gets the same critical drubbing as well. Now, if one were to examine the Facebook accounts of both Ruth and Poseur Caleb, [yeah, I said it] one would see two very different takes on what the Word represents to each of them.

For instance, here’s Ruth’s Facebook banner photo:

Granted, while this woman does tend to fire off rounds of debunked conspiracy theories and unhinged prophecies as if she were a human Gatling gun whose lubricating oil is mostly comprised of lunacy, at least this message is, at its core, quite lovely: “Jesus loves you”, and who among us, can’t appreciate that? Well, people whose brains still work as nature intended, along with those that Jesus and his absentee dad would consign to Hell for not believing in Him maybe, but other than that, nobody, that’s who.

But Poseur Caleb? All I can say is that this man is a true maverick. A lone wolf, His own man, if I may be so bold. This last observation that I’ve made, rings even more true, when this self-styled spiritual shepherd rather than post an inspirational quote from the book he exploits, or a snippet of a sermon stimulated by the same, blazes his own path, and chooses instead, to display this most divine outreach:

Ah, yes- the purest distillation of WWJD, is it not?  And I don’t mean to infer the maxim, “What Would Jesus Do”, as the popular bracelets like to say, but opt for the more accurate “What Would Jesus Distribute?”, instead, as its seemingly the message that Caleb is more focused on. In fact, if one peruses his FB page, they’ll notice that he throws more pitches for his self-published products, than the late, if not great, spokesperson Billy Mays ever did, and he was literally coked out pf his head and on television, 24/7.

Podcasts. Sermons. Ideological post-it notes masquerading as books by other as-talented “authors”, and in a display of sheer Chutzpah that even I can admire, there’s also repeated pitches for this must-have item for today’s intellectually challenged Christian warrior, as well:

Man, I know you always hope that the sequel to the runaway smash hit is going to be as good as the original, but this one sounds like it’s going to be absolutely lit. I mean. It literally has it all- unexpected guest cameos, in-depth character studies, and let’s not forget the awesome title, which let’s face it, is really where most of the marketing money goes, whatnot with the toys, t-shirts, and merchandising tie-ins these days.

And if they can only get Hillsong United to do the accompanying soundtrack, that sucker is gonna go platinum, guaranteed. Failing that, I’ve heard that Stryper have lots of free time on their hands lately, and they’d probably be more than happy to break out their old spandex as well, so just keep that in mind, Caleb.  Just don’t make the mistake of casting a blue-eyed blonde to play Jesus this time around again, as we’re all kind of sick of that by now.

Honestly, and if I had my druthers, I’d switch it up a bit, and cast Angela Basset, instead. Why? Because not only can that sister act her ass off, it would be hilarious to watch these so-called all-loving disciples of Jesus, complain about Hollywood’s literally unorthodox choice, while claiming it isn’t because of her race or gender, which is why they always cast a WASP dude in the role, rather than someone who’s of actual Hebrew descent, or at the very least, distinctly non-beige,

Nevertheless, you may be wondering as to why given my past (and current) criticism of Ruth’s infliction of her thinner than onion skin faith upon others, I would bother to add her poseur pastor to the mix, and the answer is crystalline- a single misguided simpleton can do enough damage on its own, but the marching orders to do so obviously come from above, so that’s where the cauterization of the idiocy has to start, otherwise, the campaign to effect changes for the better, will tabulate as no more than a zero sum at best.

Besides that point, I also find our preaching poseur well… absolutely fascinating, to say the very least. I’ve always been intrigued, if not appallingly impressed, by the sheer amount of cheek required to brazenly sell an invisible, yet supposedly necessary product in tandem with a corresponding lifestyle, that if it fails to work, the blame for such is solely on the shoulders of the person who bought it hook, line, and sinker.

If I could only find a way to set aside my ethics and brainwash the gullible populace at large, using only a fairy tale that others wrote to fund my lifestyle, not only would I have an island made from Ding Dongs, I’m pretty confident that I’d wrap myself in a cloak of sanctimonious piousness as well, to avoid the focused scrutiny of others. As a writer who sometimes receives some serious flak for expressing his opinions, I’ve always been somewhat envious that if you claim to be a person of faith, you tend to get a free pass in regards to the same.

It’s been my observation, that the one truly underrated aspect of being a religious hypocrite, is that when your pretense eventually gets exposed for the sham that it is, you can always yell “serving my God is my only offense”, and you’ll be socially absolved of all guilt. How convenient an escape clause that must be,

Here’s my take. If I can’t be exonerated of a definitive crime in the setting of an American courtroom using only the dual excuses of either “the Devil made me do it”, or even better, “Gpd forgives me”, then the social construct of both, with hands down and no question about it, is sheer unadulterated bulls**t.

To be sure, while Ruth actively promotes her hilariously misinterpreted tenets of a truly fecal-filled Faith,  she’s not solely responsible for the societal carnage such actions incur, for as much as I’d like to assign blame to a singular being, it would be both far too simplistic and arrogant for me to do so, regarding the particular situation I’ve been observing for the last year or so.

When you practice your Faith, you do what your heart tells you, despite getting it wrong every now and then, hence the reason why it’s openly noted as “practicing”, and not as “nailing it”. When you “follow” your religion on the other hand, you just simply do what you’re told, and you don’t ask any questions. If you’re allowed to, that is, and generally… you’re not, as free-thinking is quite damaging to ideologues, and all that.

Faith, in its purest distillation, ideally creates a better society, but Religion? It’s the impetus that makes its “followers” fly commercial airliners into f**king skyscrapers.

But as usual, I’m getting ahead of myself, so let me construct some necessary background context first, as to just who Poseur Caleb Cooper is, and what the breadth of his religious convictions are. Key word here being “breadth”, because man oh man, the asinine fruit doesn’t fall far from the seemingly fearmongering hedge. Nonetheless, before I take my metaphorical shears to that putrid of privets, let’s start with the House that “God” guilt, and Poseur Caleb gilds, pun definitely intended.

Looking at Cooper’s main website, calebcooperministries.com two things are readily apparent: one, Cooper really thinks highly of himself and his “education”, and two, subtle marketing is obviously not a personal career niche he’s ever been interested in exploring. First, let’s address the glorification of the self, which as we all know from John 5:31, which states: “If I alone bear witness about myself, my testimony is not deemed true”, is one of those character flaws concerning humility that God really enjoys.

“Caleb Cooper is a firebrand revivalist that operates in the Apostolic and Prophetic, believing God to change atmospheres and transform regions with revival and awakening. He ministers out of a heart that believes we are the generation that will see the coming of the Lord. Caleb Cooper received his Doctorate Degree in Biblical Studies from FountainGate School of Revival in Mesa, Arizona and has served as a Senior Pastor for over a decade. Caleb Cooper currently Pastors New Hope Revival Church in Truth Or Consequences, NM.’

I do find it somewhat ironic however, that he works out of Truth “or” Consequences, as I have serious reservations he even knows what the Truth is, given his odious oratory slithering outward as spiritual soliloquies, and as I shall reveal later on, his penchant for doing so, fuels a perspective that he feels should shield him from having to face Consequences for actions so legally and socially asinine, that even the demon Asmodeus wouldn’t want to be seen in public with him, and that guy is upper management.

Other than the errant capitalization of where he primarily pastors, that being the word “or”, I also appreciate that directly below his sugar-puffed resume, and without any (or future) praise for the Lord’s works, message, or edicts, there’s a link to pitch his books. Such brass reminds me of the warning within Proverbs 16:5, which says that, “Everyone who is arrogant in heart is an abomination to the Lord; be assured, he will not go unpunished.”

But I’m sure none of this would apply to a man who after his blowing his own Exalted Horn, posts this:

And then, now that he’s properly warmed up as it were, hits one deep to alt-right field;

Running towards the home collection plate, he presents this pathetic plea for subscription shekels;

And closes off his capitalistic beseeching with a financial fleecing flourish, just to be sure that we all know beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he is indeed, truly a man of God:

Granted, this “God” he fails to represent accurately, seems to be no more than the end product of a ministry of mammon, but I’m sure that’s just my cynicism talking as usual, am I right? Strange how Jesus and his dad never needed a literary agent or subscription fees to promote their message, but I guess the price of Last Suppers has gone up over the last few centuries, so maybe I should cut Caleb some slack, as also finding twelve guys to praise you 24/7, has also got to be bloody expensive as all get out, to boot.

Weird that Jesus worked for free, but Caleb can’t, huh? Sure, Jesus could turn water into wine, but it’s not like he could turn hummus into a consistent rent payment, so maybe, Caleb’s blatant cash-grab does make some sort of limited sense, after all.

Or, and just hear me out, maybe it doesn’t, given the edict of Philippians 2:1-10; “So if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort from love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy, complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from rivalry or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus.”

But at the End of Days, what could I, a recovering Catholic, possibly know? After all, I only paid attention when I was in Sunday school, because I thought at the time, it’d be awesome to have a deity in my pocket that could grant me my wish of owning the full line of Star Wars toys made by Kenner, which when f places side by side with what Poseur Caleb preaches, seems almost adorably naïve, by comparison.

For those unfamiliar with the schools of theology that is the Apostolic-Prophetic movement, I’ll do my best to give you the clearest insights into what each represents. To note, the AP Movement believes that they, as a whole, are restoring elements of what they call the Five-Fold Ministry, traditionally represented using the sigil of a hand, which in of itself, symbolically characterizes the supposed ministry that God set up within the church.

Each metaphorical element of the “hand” serves as its own singular representation, while still maintaining the integrity of the core belief, which is required to anchor the movement’s analogical belief system, as is noted:

  1. The Thumb represents the Apostle: The thumb touches all others and it enables us to grip.
  2. The Forefinger represents the Prophet: It points
  3. The Middle finger represents the Evangelist: it is the furthest reaching finger
  4. The Ring finger represents the Pastor: married to the sheep he is always with them
  5. The Pinky represents the Teacher: this finger is the one that gives balance to the hand

While the roots of movement are based within the Pentecostal and Third-Wave construct, an interesting (if not incredulous) founding aspect of this theological twaddle, is the inclusion of Divine Prophecy as a serious point of dissertation.  You know… “Signs from God”, “End of Days”, “The Final Judgement”, and all that mumbo-jumbo? Never mind the fact that Matthew 25:13 clearly states that; “So you, too, must keep watch! For you do not know the day or hour of my return.”

In a nutshell, that means nobody, including Jesus himself, has any f**k8ng clue as to when God has decided to launch his comeback tour, and that’s the gospel truth, and here’s the kicker: IT LITERALLY SAYS SO IN THEIR OWN HANDBOOK, AND THEY SOMEHOW MISSED THIS SORT OF IMPORTANT POINT OF ORDER. But to be fair, the Bible is a fairly dense book, and as it lacks memes, we can’t possibly expect these cafeteria Christians to get the subtleties of its inherent message, can we now?

The accepted definition of prophecy is noted as: “the function or vocation of a prophet specifically: the inspired declaration of divine will and purpose.” When applied to the real world however, what it actually means is that we all collectively, now have one more person to avoid making eye contact with as we walk down the street. Lest they entrap us in an unwanted conversation regarding the imaginary concept of alleged divine will.

Poseur Caleb self-describes himself as a “firebrand”, which my late Oma once distinguished to me wryly as “the most diplomatic way to call someone a jackass, without using the actual word.” Speaking as someone who’s been tagged with that description more than once, even I will admit, albeit grudgingly, that this descriptive is more apt than not, especially where this talking-snake-oil salesman is concerned.

Nevertheless, when I tend to engage in acts of what my detractors would freely call unadulterated jackassery, I try to do so armed with the facts required to win the battle, if not the war itself, ethically and definitively. And as we will come to see, when you dissect what he claims to believe and purport, it’s no wonder that Ruth, as one of his dimwitted disciples, is seemingly incapable of separating the fibrous ball of inanity into the strands of reality that she so desperately needs to knit herself a working intellect.

But before I get back to that particular alleged Fruit of the Loon, let’s enjoy some rational public discourse from the guy who runs the orchard in which she vegetates:  
Ah yes… there’s no better person on earth to demand that he have the right to tell strangers what to do with their own body than a uterus-lacking man who will never be forced into having to weigh the unending ramifications of making the most difficult of all choices, am I right? Especially when he manages to bring in the Church of Satan and our current female governor Michelle Lujan Grisham, as life-stealing boogeymen of convenience.

When you consider that these alleged pro-life warriors so-called, are also the very same persons who fight against funding open access to birth control, protest sexual education classes in schools and send mobs to stand outside against Planned Parenthood as if they had taken Jesus hostage, and were holding him captive in their basement, the hypocrisy within their message is quite clear. They don’t care about saving lives, so much as the worry about not being able to control the ones that belong to women.

And if you doubt the veracity of that last statement, just ask yourself how many times you’ve seen these fetus-fellating f**kheads publicly harass or even attempt to intimidate, sexually active me. Anywhere. At any point. For any quantifiable length of time. Go ahead… I’ll be more than happy to wait. And while you’re doing that, I’ll be over here, trying to figure out when exactly, a prophet whose sermons preached tolerance, charity, brotherhood, magnanimity, and peace, mutated into a pro-war, pro-gun, greed-supporting, hater of immigrants, and by default, an icon of the current GQP.

What I’m referring to here, is the strange dichotomy of claiming that Jesus is your homeboy, yet you still feel the need to strap on a Smith & Wesson to serve as your substitute penii when you leave your suburban bunker to go grab fuel for your tiki-torch and a large pumpkin-spice latte, for “protection”. I can only speak for myself, but if I had an all-powerful, all-knowing deity in the BFF position, I’d constantly be making grilled cheese sandwiches and Flaming Sambucas…

…while sitting in the middle of the campfire.

Why is it, that those who claim to serve with distinction n God’s army, seemingly have no faith in his authority and powers when the Jello shots hit the fan? Case in point, this ever so subtle allusion to both transphobia and personal paranoia, all from a supposed pastor who apparently feels God’s divine protection only works on every other Sunday:

Reading this, you might hope that with the number of holes that are already in Caleb’s relatively empty head, that being the celestial number of 7, one of them in theory, would allow some actual intellect in, if only in an attempt for it to take advantage pf all the open space that’s available to it rent-free, and virtually untouched. However, it once again highlights a quirk of character I’ve commented on before- why are Conservatives so obsessed with other people’s lifestyles, personally applied labels, and sex lives, far more than they are in regards to their own?

I’m not entirely sure why, but genitalia-related references pour out of conservative’s mouths these days, almost as fast as conspiracy theories set up shop in their rapidly withering brains, and it’s dually hilarious, as well as puzzling as to why they so consistently feel the need to do so. Even when supposedly talking in a recent sermon about God’s alleged Glory, Caleb uttered the following phrase, and I am literally, quite apprehensive that I’ll ever be able to top it, much less get it out of my head:

“I AM NOT GOING TO BE WORRIED ABOUT THE UNCIRCUMCISED PHILISTINE WHO WANTS TO DEFY THE ARMIES OF THE LIVING GOD!”

Over the years, I’ve written a lot of jokes. Tons, in fact. But as this statement of personal fortitude was delivered in a SERMON no less, I find myself seriously reconsidering my life choices, and giving solemn pause to the idea that I should follow my long-quashed dream about becoming the lead singer for a Stryper cover band.

(Admit it… you know I could totally rock this look.)

As I’ve said oft-times before, and most likely will again in the future to come, I’m sure that there’s nothing to unpack there, given all the phallic symbolism that these people so desperately cling to, very much in the same way that Madonna death-grips her rapidly fading youth, and cultural relevance.

To his credit, our profiteering pastor is in the best of form when it comes to navigating the overly complicated world of finance, save for the minor fact that when it comes to applying a spiritual strategy to the arena of investment based in the celestial, he does so as if he were a drunken ball inside a Plinko game. And one that’s most assuredly, has been crudely stripped of its crucial inner mechanics.

“After we send your debt to our mythical Lord and celestial bookkeeper, via a thick choking cloud of potentially polluting and toxic smoke, we’re going to all go sit in the room where we seriously discuss the magical boat from the Middle East, that was filled with all of God’s creatures.

This of course, included penguins who, after walking and swimming from Antarctica, somehow, found a ship that was landlocked smack dab square in the middle of a freaking desert. And after that, we’ll address the subject of managing one’s personal finances, like clear-headed adults.”

I hate to be the one that has to point this out to you, salad brain, but burning a paper bill, does not, in fact, erase the original debt it represents. And if I were to be a bit snide, I don’t think a deity that always pleads poverty every Sunday, is gonna be the one that pours metaphorical gold back into thy coffers… just saying. But let’s not worry about that, because our resident Chaplain of Capitalism here, has in inside track on the hottest yet not even remotely newest, monetary venture, the “Kingdom Economy”!.
Sorry, Boys and Girls, but in order for you to make money, God is gonna have to ask you for a cut off the top first. However, you know he’ll pay you back, post haste. With interest, Pinky swear. That’s why it says “In God we Trust” on our currency, because Jesus is all about making it rain.

Just ask all those moneylenders in the Temple… I’m sure they’ll vouch for him in a heartbeat.
Also keep in mind, that sure, you may be the one going to work every day and doing all the heavy lifting, but in the end, it’s really God who deserves the credit for your labors. And as long as you remember to put God’s 401K ahead of your own, he might even grant you the privilege to keep doing doing so, until you drop dead on your 20-minute lunch break. What a guy.
“You will lack Nothing”, says the poseur Pastor whose lifestyle is supported solely by his doubling as customers spiritual flock, and who instructed them to put God first before themselves, but I’m sure that’s just a case of awkward semantics, at worst. But then again, I also still hold out hope that my parents are going to come back to that mall where they dropped me off that one fine summer day, 45 years ago.

Obviously, buying cigarettes and returning to get me, posed a far greater challenge than either one realized at the time, which I’m quite certain, must have happened a lot during the seventies. I don’t know how Caleb gets his in-fleecing mode flock to believe this bunkum, but it’s also fair to say that it’s not like he’s been liquidating his *Flavor-Aid stock so that he can open up a satellite branch in Guyana, either… yet.

*[Despite the Urban legend, it was cyanide-laced Flavor-Aid that the victims at Jonestown drank, which to this day must make the PR team at Kool-Ade, madder than hell,]

I could, if I was truly feeling my Honey-Nut Cheerios in regards to this self-serving call for “seed sowing”, by citing Matthew 19: 21 which notates that; “Jesus said unto him, If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell that thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come and follow me”. but I’m almost certain that our religious capitalist had to have taken it into consideration before he crafted these monetary morsels of wisdom.

However, all clearly obvious jokes aside, let it never be said that Caleb is a one-cult-pony, for he’s a man with range. Along with his pandering of the pulpit, his disdain for the still fore-skinned, and his side-hustle as a writer of apocalyptic vision porn, he’s also a modern-day Patriot, cut from the same partisan polyester as other noted White Nationalists, such as Josh Hawley, Matt Gaetz, and America’s greatest champion against the ongoing scourge of Jewish space-lasers, Marjorie Taylor Greene.

I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say “White Nationalists”, so much as I meant to say “Unamerican Tiki-torching twat-burgers”. My sincerest apologies, all around. Damnit. I did it again. The descriptive I should have applied here is “Cravenly Connoisseurs of Fascism”, which I feel, is far more accurate, in light of the abominable amalgamation of faux cultural pride, inner spirituality, and Stalinist totalitarianism

If it turns out they find themselves still needing a grounding image to truly exemplify what ideological constructs the GQP will be presenting for the 2024 campaign, America itself, and for the time beyond, I’d suggest they go with this:Hey, if they’re allowed to endlessly strum the Hyperbole Harp, then we should be allowed the same courtesy too. As to the nationalism descriptive I’ve hurled, I’ll address that in a moment, but first, let’s enjoy some further examples of the misconstrued patriotism that Poseur Caleb hawks as if he were working a street corner in Alphabet City:

I don’t know the exact answer to your question Caleb, but I’d surmise it might be similar to the belief that not getting sick and spreading a virulent pathogen to others, is usually a good thing, but that’s just off the top of my head, which unlike yours, doesn’t come to a point. What nerve these businesses have, asking the general public to willingly assist in their efforts keep their employees, customers, and vendors as safe as possible in the middle of an increasingly resistant pandemic.

Bastards! Bastards all. Thank the stars, that your deity never wasted a moment of his time on the sick.

That’s okay… we in all actuality, never want to see one of your candy-assed temper tantrums ever again either, so I guess there’s common ground to be had, after all. I don’t want to sound condescending, but you really can’t call it a “rally:, when it’s always the same 24 White people who show up replete with their lawn chairs, Chinese-made Trump hats, “Trump 2024” flags, and an actively worsening case of Trump Derangement Syndrome, (AKA:TDS)

This affliction, which causes its sufferers to believe that a traitorous and sexually assaulting adulterer, who lost both the popular vote and the electoral college, was somehow worthy of ever having been this country’s President, can oft be reversed with a steadfast regimen of Reality, Education, and swearing off Right-wing media, but sadly, most of its victims eventually succumb to their own stupidity, and spend the rest of their wretched lives, screaming at the empty sky.

That is, if they haven’t killed themselves attempting to make toast, of course. And when it comes to “Tyranny” Caleb? While it’s nice to see that you can spell it correctly, you sure as heck can’t define it.

Is it just me, or do you also get the feeling that if Caleb has any tattoos, they’re probably all quotes from The Turner Diaries? Where are the Patriot whatevers, he asks?  Well, if past history can be used as a yardstick of any measure, they’re either playing “I’m a Militia” in the woods of Michigan, or more likely, embarrassing themselves and their loved ones in public, as they argue pointlessly as to why they don’t need to wear a mask like everybody else is currently doing without histrionics.

Despite his protections that he can’t find the true patriots, all Caleb has ever had to do to determine their whereabouts, is to look sharply to his extreme Right, and he’ll find them literally “Right” where he left them.  Who are these intimately connected paragons of American Patriotism and Christian values whose support and friendship Caleb treasures so deeply, you ask?

Only the Cowboys for Trump, of course, because there’s no more natural alliance to be made than the one between a New York supposed billionaire who sexually assaults women, and, a group of allegedly racist blue-collar cowboys, who when not threatening politicians with bodily harm, infer the same should be visited upon terrified immigrants, just like the brown-skinned Jew that they claim to worship, would do.

Because as the Good Book tells us, in Shitheadius 10:1; “And the Lord gathered the Morons of the arid Lands replete with green chiles, and bade them to care not for others or themselves, for the sale of books with covers too far apart, must continue unabated, and to be haughty and dance like uncircumcised Philistines, in front of the official scribes who would note their jackassery for the age, with great humor and infinite sadness.”  

For if there’s one demographic that the Son of God would willingly ally himself with, it would most definitely, be a group of seemingly bigoted Cowboys who’d allegedly bone a steer, long before they’d ever brand it. Assembling as a whole at a New Mexican church in May of this year, this pathetic hissy-fit masquerading as a PR stunt, was in defiance of an executive order declared by New Mexico’s Governor Michele Lujan Grisham, that church services could only have a 25-percent capacity gathered in adoration.

In light of their action, these two forces of Southwestern flatulence, unwittingly offered up yet another take on WWJD, by asking the (as of yet) unanswered question of, “Who Would Jesus Deport?”. And as I’ve inferred throughout this screed, there’s no better way to back up your POV, quite like citing a Bronze Age book of fairy tales, in lieu of an actual counter-argument using empirical evidence.

Revelation 12:11; “And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb, and by the word of their testimony; and they loved not their lives unto the death.” Remember my earlier joke that Poseur Caleb was going to open a satellite location in Guyana? Good. Because I seriously think he just added a Flavor-Ade water slide, log ride, and vending machines, to the projected layout.

Seriously, what in the actual f**k is wrong with this person? The concept of a Death cult is not new by any stretch, but mythical Jesus F**king Christ, there hardly seems an existent need for such nowadays, notwithstanding the possible release of a new Highlander movie in the future, for lack of a better example. One question arises however- if these pious pinheads truly don’t fear Death, for heaven awaits, then why are they seemingly afraid of everything else on Earth that doesn’t neatly jibe with their fairy tale ideology?

As I’ve stated previously; “if I had an all-powerful, all-knowing deity in the BFF position, I’d constantly be making grilled cheese sandwiches and Flaming Sambucas, while sitting in the middle of the campfire..” I am however, not going to accept whatever final sacrament Caleb might offer me, though. It’s not that I fear cyanide. It’s more that I find Flavor’s version of fruit punch to be far too sweet. In retrospect, lacing it with cyanide might actually take that sickly edge off of it, so there’s the upside,First things first, you constitutional cuckold. The Separation 0\f Church and State is in itself, not a “lie”, unless of course, you’re measuring it against your fever-dream of a fully theocratic United States, which I’m happy to say, is never gonna f**king happen. EVER. Why, you cry? Because of the Establishment and Free Exercise Clauses, I gleefully retort.

As noted within the First Amendment to the United States Constitution, it simply states that: “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof.” In layman’s terms, this means that you can practice your religion openly, regardless of which one it is that you’ve chosen, and without having to fear any form of unreasonable consequence, for doing so.

It also means that despite the claims of cafeteria Christians across this great nation, THERE IS NO “OFFICIAL” RELIGION THAT REPRESENTS THE UNITED STATES, so y’all can go suck a duck, with whatever technique you wish, although I’m morally obligated to inform you that engaging in such an act, consensual or not, might be illegal in most principalities as a rule of thumb. Therefore, I’d also strongly recommend that you at least undertake some diligent research, before you decide to get amorous with any random mallard.

Consequently, the only ‘lie’ being told here, is the one that faux Christian patriots tell themselves every night as they say there’s no such separation, and the one Caleb tells himself, as he shirks responsibility for his role in disseminating the recognized falsehood of such.

But it’s not all bad news for the overly sanctimonious among us, for you’re an established church or a member of the clergy thereof, and possess eve a small measure of promotional savvy, you can in theory, use your tax-free gilded shelter to build your particular brand of liturgical ludicrousness into either a long-term career fleecing the gullible, or perhaps, even into a collection of notably wretched wet-dreams, centered on the machinations of a sociopathic and wholly imaginary deity, who grants wishes and celestial lottery tickets to his followers, but only on the condition that he can do so, mysteriously.

Concerning the cease and desist letter that Poseur Caleb received from NM’s “Tyrannical” governor, it all comes back to Cooper’s unfounded, unintelligent, and unconceivable, anti-masking stance, based on his misapprehension of that old’ adage “WWJD”: which, when placed in the arrogant hands of Poseur Caleb, mutates into  “Whom Would Jesus Doom” instead, as evidenced by the screenshot below:An inconvenient observation, to lighten the mood. Despite the scads of local, national, and intercontinental media and health agency reports of Clergy and their citizen charges dying of COVID, the dumbf**ks of divination, such as Caleb here, still fall back on the proven to be false bullspit of “God will protect me”, regardless of what all the empirical evidence says in opposition.

That is, when he’s not posting fatally sociopathic, and mentally harmful reassurance like this:  

For the record, Matthew 5:10 says absolutely nothing about death, and even far less about the accepted definition of true tyranny, nothing that; “Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness’ sake for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”  And while the two concepts can share some commonalities, they are defined individually as such: TYRANNY: “a government in which absolute power is vested in a single ruler”, versus PERSECUTION: “the act or practice of persecuting especially those who differ in origin, religion, or social outlook.”

That last portrayal ironically enough, does dovetail neatly with your belligerent religion’s habit of attacking non-Christian faiths, the LGBTQ community, social protestors, and atheists, but I’ll digests for now, as there’s no reason to keep beating a dead horse. However, our first definitive only becomes less apt to Caleb’s complaint, when one remembers how Trumpists, such as himself, slavishly lauded Donald Trump when he was President, as the supreme authority over all matters, whether they’d be militaristic, economic, societal, religious, ethical, or as he so disastrously demonstrated, medically relevant.

And as for his quote from the Big Book of Bronze Age Balderdash?

All I can say in retort is this: you’re not being “persecuted” because you’re a Christian [so-called] Pastor asserting a position against an illegal governmental overreach, faux as that opinion is, you’re being held accountable for breaking the established law of the land, for no other reason than to hawk your menial ministry, and its product line of badly-written fan-fiction-themed mash notes to a God you don’t represent, or more importantly, honor.

And once again, if you are a believer, and you “no longer fears death and persecution”, then why are you whining like a candy-assed bitch about being subject to getting served with a C and D? Thou doth protest too much, methinks. Then again, I can only imagine how hard it must be to earn your 13 pieces of silver, especially when the rules you reserve for others, are found to equally apply to you as well. And in answer to your query of “ARE YOU NOT READY TO MEET JESUS?”, I can only respond with the riposte that if you and I have to both sit at the same table making small talk, I’d rather go to Hell.

Besides, it isn’t like you’re not going to eventually show up there someday anyway, so I might as well cut out the middleman messiah, if only to free up his ever so busy schedule of appearing in clouds and tortillas.

Speaking of keeping up appearances, I became immensely curious about Caleb’s Biblical education, especially when during the course of my research for this creed, that FountainGate School of Revival, the seminary where he acquired his Doctorate Degree in Biblical Studies, along with not even being listed among the top 50 theological schools in the United Sates, doesn’t even have a physical campus at all, as its course of studies are exclusively online.

At first appraisal, this might give its degrees of completion a cachet more akin to the honorary ones bestowed upon celebrities, allowing for far less bragging rights than those accredited by actually respected spiritual institutions, such as Wheaton College or Pepperdine University, but I refuse to split wigs until I get to know who they are, and what they’re all about.

Seems only fair, right? After all, I definitely don’t wat to come off as an uncircumcised Philistine, not that Caleb and crew aren’t even remotely scared by those, half as much as they are by facts. And I assure you, there’s no foreskin shadowing involved, in regards to any of this:

From the FountainGate School of Revival website, a brief description of who and what they be: FGSOR, a TransWorld Accrediting Commission accredited Bible College offers Associate of Arts (AA), Bachelor of Arts (BA), and Master of Arts (MA) degree programs in Biblical Studies and Missions with emphasis in the following areas:

  • Biblical Studies
  • History of Revival and Revivalists
  • Components of Revival
  • Revival Now Activation
  • Developing Your Spirit-Filled Gifts
  • Ministry Experience / Evangelism
  • Prophetic Impartation / International Missions

Overlooking the exclusion of necessary commas, this reads like standard for profit school boilerplate, does it not? Sure, it does. That is, until you read the rest of what they stand for. And as I don’t want to be accused of selective editing, here’s the proof, straight from the hollowed [pun intended] virtual halls of what Trump University could have been, if its creators had only known how to promote the imaginary Apocalypse, instead of the imaginary genius of a failed reality TV show host.

Translation: “We’re currently in the process of warping the reality of still-developing minds in order to continue the cycle of societal carnage that organized religion inflicts upon the world, as a means to make Society at large, less like Utopia, and more like Gilead.”.

Translation: “Through the application of Bronze-Age fairy tales, cherry-pocked conclusions, and a steady immersion in a pond unfounded doomsaying, we will train you to go forth, traveling securely with a sales pitch so ludicrously insane that only the late L. Ron Hubbard could ever challenge it, as you f**k up both multiple communities, and their formerly rational denizens, across the globe.”
Translation: “Those who once laughed at us, will be laughing no longer, once we get in charge. Count on it. But don’t worry- we’re only going to try and legally [of course] persecute the LCBTQ community, their allies, atheists, humanists, scientists, free-thinkers, non-Christians or those Christians that don’t fit our definition of what “a true Christian” is, as well as women who want body autonomy or express opinions, and those pesky outlanders from other countries, if they don’t renounce their heathen ways.”

Even better, at least whereas my darkly twisted sense of humor is concerned, is the fact that since they don’t have an actual campus, they were forced to use stock photography in order to depict their so-called “students”. What’s next to discover, finding out that their IT guy website designer, and office coffee gopher are all the same person, you know… the nephew who works for free, and is still attending high school?

And here we are, worried about the Taliban and border security, when these nutbar Nazarenes are running around, completely unsupervised? I don’t mean to be disparaging, truly I don’t, but given the lack of intellectual gravitas I’ve seen displayed by Caleb, why do I get the feeling that if this “school” ever did manage to establish a physical campus, the only requirements to enter would be based on no more than an ability to open the front door, and have your personal check clear?

Nevertheless, while Caleb’s spiritual coffers may be skipping along smoothly, its fairly obvious that his academic ones are severely overdrawn at best, especially where engaging in research regarding the current pandemic is concerned. I mean it’s one thing to believe that God will “protect” you, despite all evidence to the contrary, but to willingly ignore the fact that a good chunk of those who’ve already died from COVID had to be as equally religious, and yet still wound up as casket citizenry, should at least, you’d think, cause him to engage in a moment of inner reflection. 

I don’t know. Maybe he’s waiting for a sign or something even more subtle, if not openly mysterious for instance. Like when a team of ICU doctors are forced to shove respirator tubes down his kids’ throats, due to his being bereft of common sense. For my part, I hope that this never happens, but if did come to pass that some member of his family had to be afflicted, and he was the only one that got sick, I’d love to see if he would indeed, fall back on his Faith as he’s been claiming or if he would show up at his local Emergency room, begging for the assistance that he supposedly thinks God will provide.

Either way it plays out, the Schadenfreude would be epic, if not worth the wait

Nevertheless, since God still works in mysterious ways, we can really do nothing, save to sit on our sanitized hands and wait, so while we do, let’s enjoy yet another slice of nattering-iced nut-cake, and let the crumbs fall where they may:So much faux badassery within this totally believable declaration, is there not? First, since almost all of NM is under some form of mandate, there’s very few (if any) places where you can go maskless without reproach. Second, NO ONE IS THREATENING TO POKE YOUR FAMILY WITH A NEEDLE AGAINST THEIR WILL, YOU CONSPIRACY-CHUGGING CHOAD. And third, try looking on the upside. If “they” do close your church, think of all the time you’ll now have to write yet another self-published tome targeting the gullible among your flock, who, unlike us, actually believe its literature, and not a coaster in disguise.

Regarding he edict of Ephesians 6:13; “Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand”, that might work when you’re facing an emissary of Evil hat’s wholly imaginary, but it doesn’t do f**k-all, when it comes to infectious disease. Any other questions before we enter this next wave of the Global Storm, you asked? I do have one, at least. But since it involves settling my curiosity as to whether or not you played astronaut as a child using a bread bag tied tightly around your head sans air holes, I’ll save if for another time.Say what you will about our poseur pastor here, and I encourage you to do so, but he could teach a group of three-year-old’s a thing or two about throwing a pissy-hissy-fit, and I mean that as a compliment. Once again, you dumbass of deceitful divination, NO ONE IS THREATENING TO POKE YOU, OR ANYONE ELSE FOR THAT MATTER, WITH A NEEDLE AGAINST THEIR WILL.

The only thing anyone might be interested in sticking you or your Stockholm syndrome afflicted family with, would be a copy of a science book, or come to think of it, any book that unlike the one you use to rationalize your ignorance, doesn’t require you to have the intellect of a four-year-old to believe what’s contained within it.

Look, I understand. I really do. It’s difficult to sell your particularly unappetizing brand of Apocalypse anchovies without the ability to paint you and your followers as being under some form of constant attack, as provided by your enemies, both real and imagined, but you’re stretching the concept in practice a bit here, even by your standards. Which to be fair, are already set so low, that cockroaches have to limbo, just so they can travel underneath them.

Seriously… where do you get this bullspit from, Caleb? Is the source the alleged voices in that empty melon you call a head, or are you just psychically channeling the thoughts of crazy dead people, who just so happen to be speaking in tongues?

And as a side query, what exactly did you mean when you said “It’s time to take rebuke the devil”/ I assume that there’s an extra and unnecessary “take” in there, due to your getting overexcited at the prospect of sermonizing via meme, as well as thinking that an imaginary construct would even pay attention to you in the first place.

Nonetheless, in the future, do yourself and us, a favor next time before you type out inanity such as this, by taking a few extra minutes in the bathroom and hand-stoking that hell-fire right out of your brain before you decide to go and spray it all over the pixelated page, ok Sparky?

Thanks. You’re a peach.

And by the way, it was always taught to me as a child that God’s judgement was the highest court in the land, but I can understand why it is no longer. It’s gotta be a bitch trying to find a lawyer, when most of the truly experienced ones, are already in Hell, and out of the celestial court’s reach.Has anyone else noticed that the morons who screech the loudest about others needing to “wake up”, are usually the same ones complaining about these they’re ideologically opposed to, being “woke”, as they themselves, sleepwalk through Reality? I’m sure there’s nothing to take away from that. Not only are the mandates well within the boundaries of constitutional law, as I’ve explained in previous screeds, but I’ll also take the position that protecting the populace from an infectious disease, is truly the singular item that’s not to be found in Satan’s wheelhouse, either.

Don’t get me wrong, as he’s no more than a mythical construct and all, but helping humanity really isn’t the niche that he’s become known for. I’m open to the odea that as Evil Incarnate, he could be solely responsible for the Star Wars prequels, every Highlander sequel, and the Kardashians getting a TV show, but throwing us talking monkeys a bone without making us sign a contract written in blood first?

So not his style. But I will float the possibility, given all the adulterers, grifters, homophobes, xenophobes, jingoists, racists, and misogynists that are the baseboards of the current GQP, that conservatives are in for (pardon the pun) one “Hell” of a BBQ when the end days finally do arrive.  It’s going to be an even bigger shock when they discover they’re going to be both the guests of honor, as well as the main course.Two points. The first being that yes, government is a/the problem. Always has been, always will be. That is, until AI takes everything over, and we can finally free ourselves pf ego, bureaucracy, and the aggravation of having to “take a number”, only to be told when it gets called, that we’ve been waiting in the wrong line for 45 minutes. The second point of mine is that I, nor anybody else for that matter, should take any advice concerning constitutional legalities, medical protocol, or social grace, from a guy whose Doctorate in magical unicorn thinking was issued by the Christian equivalent of DeVry University.  

To that end, let’s take a gander at the newest perversion of the Word as a means to get around the necessary mandates, that being the bogus claim of “religious exemption”. It is not for me to say that the concept of religious exemption is in itself bogus, as a refusal to serve in the military could fall under this social provision, but when it comes to masking protocols and social distancing, this is yet another pathetically transparent dodge by a divining demographic that shirks personal accountability in the very same manner that Neo avoids bullets in the Matrix.
What exactly is the accepted definition of religious exemption, and how is it being openly abused in this, the age of pandemic, you wonder? Well, here you go: “the act of exempting, or state of being exempt, due to personally held religious convictions.” In simpler terms, it gives one the right to refuse being part of, or engaging in, any willing course of action that would violate the tenets of one’s strongly-held spiritual beliefs. On the surface, this stance in nobility is laudable, the willingness to hold firm for what you believe to be just, and all that

Dig deeper in regards to some of these people’s claim of conviction however, and you’ll find that the depth of their dignity is thinner than the veneer on an IKEA coffee table. Case in point? Take this op-ed article, written by Pastor Keith Marshall, who uses DIRECTLY QUOTED SCRIPTURE to argue the case as to why the clause of religious exemption does not unswervingly apply to the current COVOD crisis:
Now, as a recap, here we have an ordained Man of God, using edicts dictated straight out of the mouth of the Holy Father himself, which by that alleged fact alone, punch a huge hole in the bullspit boat that these spiritual sociopaths use to float their selfishly justified narrative against the current of Reality. I’m pretty sure I got that part right. In fact, who could possibly get it wrong, considering who the original author of the source material is, and who the writer of the op-ed is known to work for?

Certainly, not a self-decreed Christian, who’s been dyed in the wool of the Lamb, and consistently prone to posting scripture and personal judgments alike, supposedly based upon the same soul owner’s manual the good pastor referenced, am I right?  If course I am. It just stands to reason, that if a chosen warrior of the one true God quotes verbatim from the Word itself, only the most hypocritical and insolent of his children would dare cast disparagement upon it.

Fortunately, outside of our featured Poseur Pastor himself, I can’t imagine anyone else who would do such a thing, and most definitely, they sure as heck, wouldn’t dare to do so in pub…
…sigh… oh hello, Ruth. What brings you back around? Couldn’t handle going five minutes without embarrassing yourself, your family, and least important of all, your invented deity? Let me get this straight, if I may. Despite this minister using THE EXACT SAME WORDS you claim to follow, you’re “glad” that this man whose advocacy for personal spiritual action answers the question of WWJD in its purest distillation, is not your pastor?

Something tells me that both he, and to a lesser extent, the late noted Satanist Anton Szandor LaVey, would breathe a huge sigh of relief upon finding this out. Pastor Marshall, because he wouldn’t see the point in arguing with your misinterpreting and willfully churlish ass, and in the case of LaVey, because as an ardent Satanist, he’d prefer not to hang out with persons as morally rudderless as yourself.

Yeah, you read that right. I called Ruth Darlene Seawolf, Silver City’s answer as to what a Christian cat lady might present look like, “morally rudderless”, and until I manage to craft an even more insulting turn of phrase to adequately describe her, I’ll back it with a bucket of my blood, if necessary. In a blogvella to come, I’ll be more than happy to go into further detail as to why I feel this way, but for now, I’ll just let this slice of sheer hubris referencing the good Pastor’s op-ed, suffice:
By the by, the definition of “woke” applied as a negative, as most conservatives are apt to do, is as follows: “The act of being very pretentious about how much you care about a social issue.”  This slur, is often used without a trace of irony by people of whom it can be easily said, if not proven, stereotypically don’t regard any social issue that doesn’t happen directly to them, as inconsequential, irrespective of whatever the facts to the contrary may be.

You know… things like poverty, lack of job and economic opportunities for minorities, inherent structured racism, homelessness, abject poverty, misogyny, homophobia, wealth inequality, and unequal justice, depending on one’s wealth and social status? So, while this man who’s dedicated his life in servitude to the greater good is “woke”, the deity under whose authoritative morality he does it willingly for, is not?

 I may be going out on a limb here, but logic dictates that the Son of God, who preached Love, Tolerance, Acceptance, Charity, and Brotherhood, may actually be a tad bit more on the woke side than the head shoved completely up your ass contingent, that you and your poseur pastor represent.

Considering that Christianity as a whole, managed to take a dark-skinned Hebrew who was all about the best of Humanity, and mutate him into a pro-war, pro-gun, pro-America, pro-Trump train WASP, is still one of the best reboots ever inflicted upon a work of fiction, and I say this as someone who saw the all-female cast “Ghostbusters”, no less than six times.

Seriously. It’s actually a really good movie, so don’t sell it short, the way that Ruth does her so-called faith on a daily basis. I can’t tell you why, but given all that I’ve observed in regards to her outright hostility towards the World of the Real over the last year or so, especially where the issue of a Supreme Being is concerned, I‘d opine that this might be how she “sells” God to those on the razor’s edge of believing: ,This sole observation of mine aside Ruth, I truly hope that if there ever does come a Day of Judgement, that you and I are next to each other in the queue, because I definitely want the best seat in the house when God gleefully kicks you off his cloud, and straight into the pits of Hell. Granted, I may be arriving there shortly after you, but at least I’ll have a job lined up first.

Regardless of what you and your ignorantly vile ilk born of עֵגֶּל הַזָהָב, [AKA: “ēggel hazāhāv”, AKA: “the Golden calf”] claim to purportedly believe, in my opinion, at best you’re the simplest of liars, and at worst, full-blown sociopaths in training. Here’s the real kicker though, and I hope it gives you some grist for you to mill later on, although if you actually possessed critical thinking skills, you wouldn’t be an adult of advancing age who still accepts a magical zombie as a tangible reality and potential savior.

Just saying.

When it gets right down to the brass nails of crucifixion, claiming a religious exemption for a critically needed public health safety measure, is akin to those self-obsessed pricks who claim that they “need” their pet porcupine to sit next to them on a flight, because it’s an emotional support companion. They’re full pf merde, and quite honestly, so are you. And if it was just you alone, screaming at the sky and affecting no one else, I’d let it be, but it’s not.

Like the COIVID virus itself, your ignorance, your false narratives, and your Christian conspiracy theories infect almost everything it touches, and this last meme I feel, backs up this opinion of mine, for no less than the sheer scope of its asinine audacity:It must be something of a personal luxury to have enough leash to be so consistently wrong, especially when the costs of being so, are borne by others unknown to you. I could easily be slurred for the perception that I’m holding you to my personal standards, but the reality is far worse, for I’m holding you to your own.

Maybe nobody has ever told you this, but God isn’t known for his charity when you deliberately misconstrue his collection of immorality tales to bolster your own personal biases, and in the case of your wolf in lamb’s clothing pastor, to fatten up his Mammon mutual funds. It’s bad enough that he can make bank off what is supposed to be a virtuous message pf hope and salvation, but to know that he uses the cover pf an eth9ically ambiguous tax-shelter to potentially endanger the community at large as well?

Just what the world needs right now- a medical professional who doesn’t believe in [protecting her future patients. Since masks and social distancing “don’t work”, according to you f**king troglodytes, then why bother with following any medical protocol in the first place? Next time you have surgery, let the staff know that proper sterilization is way overrated, and that they can forgo washing their hands and wearing surgical gear as well.

F**k, I can’t wait till the next time I have a medical procedure, and note that  my anesthesiologist is wearing a Motörhead tee-shirt, instead of scrubs. That’s d stunningly unique way to spread the Gospel, let me tell you. Abusing the concept of religious adherence, in order to introduce the denial of established science into a profession tasked with protecting people’s health. Purely insured genius at work

Just think of all the business you’ll be able to send Jesus, by helping unleash a nurse who doesn’t actually believe she should follow the basic fundamentals of her sadly chosen profession- what could possibly go wrong, other than everything?

I can only assume the inherent message to be found within your next sermon: “Sure, Jesus might have clearly stated that you should be your brother’s keeper, but that’s really more of a guideline these days, and besides if you actually did, that might hurt my whole marketing scheme, and rest assured, the Lord that I pimp as if he were Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, sure doesn’t want that.” 

So in closing, we have a pastor who’s cool with saving established in bad faith careers, in order to maintain his growing status as a Prophet of Profit, and tagging along in his wake, a disingenuous disciple, who, when given her repudiation of GOD’S OWN UNARGUABLE EDICTS as something trivial. I’d suggest that for her own sake, if not her pastors, Ruth should probably stock up on an everlasting replenishing supply of Aloe Vera, because its assuredly cooing to be an absolute necessity where she and her alleged partner in spiritual slime, are going to be wantonly witnessing for eternity.

That is, if Matthew 7:21-23 is even remotely close to being on the money: “”Not everyone that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven; but he that doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven. Many will say to me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name? and in thy name have cast out devils? and in thy name done many wonderful works? And then will I profess unto them, I never knew you: depart from me, ye that work iniquity.”

Thus endeth the summon of snark, my brothers and sisters. For now.
But when I come back…

I undertake yet another deep dive into a collective quorum of mental midgetry, topped off with a candy-assed-and-not-a-babe-Ruth, discuss some health stuff straight out pf the fevered imagination of H.P. Lovecraft, highlight some behind-the-scenes intrigue, and prepare myself for an upcoming Battle Royale, with persons too intellectually dense to even know what that is.   

“Therefore the Lord said: “Inasmuch as this people draw near Me with their mouth and with their lips do honor Me, but have removed their heart far from Me, and their fear toward Me is taught by the precept of men,” – Isaiah 29:13