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Archive for December 28th, 2009

It’s a tough job, but someone’s got to do it

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I know that I am a wordy bastard. And after I tried to wish everybody a Merry Christmas and all Hell broke loose [much to my surprise, I was actually NOT trying to stir shit for a change] I thought I would back off for a while.

But there are things that should be noted. His Majesty mentioned that bombing attempt on Christmas Day, and alluded to the incompetence of the regime, both in notifying in Buraq and the aftermath when Napolitano claimed that the fact that all the bureaucratic t’s were crossed and i’s dotted after the detonator failed proved that “the system” for dealing with terrorism was “working smoothly”.

But there was what gives every appearance of another attempt yesterday. Same flight from Amsterdam to Detroit, another Nigerian, and this time things are quiet, too quiet. Other than His Majesty, there has been no mention of either bombing attempt on the Rott.

Being a wordy bastard, I have been discussing it elsewhere, and there have been multiple threads over at BELMONT CLUB where I weighed in. The latest was dissecting the excuse being offered by Leftists that the reason that Buraq has not deigned to publicly react or respond to the bombing attempt is because to do so would lend dignity and weight to those conducting the attempted bombing. And that for Buraq to deny them that affirmation and dignity is the most damaging response possible.

I have heard of similar reasoning by Emperors in Chinese history. And in every case, it was just before the dynasty was overthrown, usually by barbarians.

In any case, here in slightly modified form, are some of my ponderings on the sudden silence after the second apparent bombing attempt.

Looking for “dogs not barking”. It is the old investigating technique of finding anomalies in conduct and trying to determine the “why?” behind them.

Look at the Christmas bombing attempt. Within a hour, we had more information than the president had [since they did not bother to disturb his golf game until 3 hours after it happened.]. We had a name. We had a rough outline of the incident, including that passengers defended themselves and the country [although the hero is a Dutchman who our media promptly named and pictured for the benefit of Jihadi's in the Netherlands]. We had eyewitness accounts. We had eyewitness reports [of unauthenticated credibility, but we were getting information] of anomalies in behavior and lapses in security procedure in the Netherlands that may have included the arrest of an accomplice. We had passengers talking to the news media. We knew shortly afterwards that the would-be bomber was on a list of terrorist affiliated persons. That he had bought his one way ticket with cash at the last minute [that is one of the major flags that should get you turned inside out by security personnel] and did not have any luggage for a multi-continental trip [that is another major flag calling for turning the suspect into a Klein Bottle under the rules we are playing by]. We soon knew that he openly claimed Al Quada affiliation, training in Yemen and acquisition of the device there. And that he claimed that there were multiple others en route using the same method.

We also knew the next day that the Chef d’Cuisine for this airborne serving of Hangtown Fries had secreted himself in the plane’s head for a prolonged period and apparently had …. extracted … at least part of the hypergolic mixture from waterproofed packaging that was, as we said in the business, “keistered” for transport.

Give us more, O Emperor! »

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…and, once again, sorry for having been away from the window for so long. I’m still alive, though. In between working my fingers to a nub to pay the bills that keep growing faster than any amount of cash infusions seem to be able to keep up with.

Just about ready to shut everything down, find a nice cave to live in and declare myself a hermit. Bill collectors oughtn’t be able to find me there.

But enough blah.

It’s been an interesting Christmas, hasn’t it? First we get the “gift” of the Senate passing a bill wasting another $2.5 trillion (low ball estimate, and why don’t we take it with zeroes on?: $2,500,000,000,000) and forcing every living soul in this country to subscribe to death panel supervised “care” or else go to jail. A tax on being alive. How sweet. All passed courtesy of Ben Nelson (D-Whorehouse) who suddenly decided that his “deeply held principled opposition to funding abortions” were less deeply held than his belief in taking a fat bribe while letting his constituents take it up the poop chute.

That parasite gives two bit harbor whores a bad name. At least they perform a service in return for their money.

And then the sheer awesomeness of the Age of Obongo where passengers, once again, are forced to save their own lives because Janet Napolitano and the Dept. of Homeland Insecurity can’t be arsed to put terrorists with known ties to other terrorists on a “no fly list.” She and the Southern Poverty Law Center are too busy classifying everybody who has ever disagreed with socialism and/or taken the Oath of Allegiance and meant it a “terrorist.” Oh, sorry. They’re not “terrorists.” They’re “causers of man-made disasters.” Unless they’re not mooselimbs.

Ogabe, the Savior of Mankind, couldn’t be arsed for comment since he was tied up playing golf in Hawaii. At least he wasn’t reading “my pet goat”, because that would have been just plain… Irresponsible. Not to mention lewd. We all know how his kind reacts to nubile goats, don’t we?

Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

Unless you happen to be an unsuspecting goat with an inviting rear end, that is.

What else? Oh yes, the unveiling of the Ogabes’ Christmas (or should that be “Holiday”) Tree at the White House, complete with Chairman Mao ornaments. We must celebrate commie mass murderers. Oh, and one with a transvestite and another with Ogabe’s simian mug superimposed over Mt. Rushmore.

We don’t know if it qualifies him, but his ego surely is bigger than Mt. Rushmore.

Would that his intellect or qualifications were bigger than a paramecium.

It amazes His Imperial Majesty. We always used to think that Caligula’s making his horse Senator and getting away with it was the most perfect example of just how idiotically complacent so-called free people are, but then the people of this once free and proud nation decided to outdo him by naming the horse’s arse President.

But hey, we’ll have a tea party, write a bunch of petitions and then we’ll just go back to taking it up the Khyber Pass.

After all, what can we possibly do more than that?

Our forefathers at Lexington and Concord might have a few suggestions, but who gives a fuck about them anymore?

Sorry. I’m tired, poor and increasingly resigned to the victorious march of idiocy. Idiots outnumber us, and as long as we let their say have the same weight as ours, we’re fighting a losing battle.

There’s strength in numbers.

There is also mindnumbing stupidity in it.

But our kids and grandkids will surely forgive us, right? After all, we only did what was right and proper.




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