Springtime for RINOs
“This sort of derangment is a novel psychopathology in the human species. . . a synthesis of low-IQ feminized brain scramble & neurotic lunacy." JD Haltigan on X
Went to the No Kings assemblies in my town and the next nearby town on Saturday. Mental illness as far as the eye could see. Old folks, too, as far as the eye could see, predominately of the female persuasion: the devouring grandmothers. The Democratic Party has marshalled mental illness as its premier campaign strategy, and lately it is winning bigly around the country as mental illness becomes the go-to cope option for the ragged remnants of Boomerdom.
They believe things that are patently insane, for instance, the latest proposal by Rep. Pramila Jayapal (D-WA) that illegal immigrants deserve reparations on account of being “traumatized” by U.S. immigration enforcement actions. If it feels like the Democratic Party is at war with our country you are not hallucinating. It is every bit as much a jihad as the Death to America crowd in Iran has explicitly pushed since 1979.
The president gets no help whatsoever from his own party, as you see in the disgraceful hijinks around the urgent issue of election reform. You know exactly how the election playbook was written: let x-million foreigners into the country illegally, give them (illegally) social security numbers, driver’s licenses, automatic voter registrations, addresses, mail-in ballots. . . and voila! They don’t even have to mail-in their own mail-in ballots. Lawfare ninja Marc Elias will arrange ballot pick-up service. And the cherry on top is that the census must count all the illegal aliens to add new congressional districts for extra seats in Congress.
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So, in the face of that, Republican Majority Leader John Thune could not muster enough votes to save the SAVE Act. Or so he said. Looks more like lack a’wanna. Eerie lack a’wanna. On their tours of cable news, the hapless Republican senators, when asked, would not name their colleagues leaning against the SAVE Act. But you know who they are. Mitch McConnell, Murkowski, Tillis, Collins, Capito.
Leader Thune could not even manage to get Homeland Security funded with the prospect of Iranian sleeper cells awakening around the country. He just threw in the towel at three o’clock in the morning on Friday, and sent the whole crew home to meet the Easter Bunny. Chuck Schumer did an end-zone dance. The brokenness of our politics could not be more in your face. As things shape up this grueling springtime, Mr. Trump might have to go Abe Lincoln on these folks. That is, declare some sort of national emergency to save the election and the country.
Of course, the nation is more than a little distracted just now with doings in Iran. The No Kings folk are unabashedly rooting for everything to go wrong there, and not a few conservatives in the public arena are straining to conjure an Iranian victory in their black-pilled deliriums. Many claim they “have no idea” what we are doing there — can it be that hard? — or else they are rabidly exercised over our alliance with Israel in the operation. You know how that goes. Cue Tucker. He’ll explain.
The truth is we are pounding these savage Shia clerics and their Revolutionary Guard myrmidons to the garden of eternal bliss where the seventy-two virgins wait. Whatever remains of Iran’s legit government is bargaining under cover for an off-ramp now. Pakistan mediates. The parties sit in different rooms and pass notes through the mediators in a third room. Iran’s Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi pretends that he will not negotiate with Mr. Trump’s envoys, Witkoff and Kushner, both Jews, the horror! But that’s sheer fakery.
To avoid humiliation in the process, Iran is still lobbing missiles and drones around the Emirates, Saudi Arabia and Israel, and they will probably keep doing that until the very moment of capitulation. Anyway, in less than a week, Mr. Trump turns the lights off all over Iran, and then they are back in the twelfth century. . . no command communication, no juice for anything, no money, no food, no water, no nothing . . . and a population getting dangerously desperate to make it all go away. . . to return to some dim memory of what normal life once was in an Iran not ruled by psychotic death cultists.
Everybody else is greatly alarmed by the disruption of Persian Gulf oil supplies through Hormuz. Global finance was already pretty shaky before the hot war commenced, and the economic tail of that dog was not wagging happily. In America, BlackRock, Morgan Stanley, Apollo Global, and Blue Owl Capital had recently “gated” redemptions — meaning investors can’t get all or part of their money out of plays that are folding on collateral rot. This private equity fiasco has significant contagion potential. The sudden oil shock makes everything feel a hundred times worse, and pain is already felt, especially in the far east and Australia / New Zealand.
But consider that the Hormuz “blockade” is also a bit of last-ditch capitulation bravado. It could be a shorter crisis than the alarmists imagine. We see everything that Iran has got from high in the sky, whatever attack boats remain. . . the thermal signatures of rockets going off. . . the bays where the drones emerge. Mr. Trump might order troops in to the stabilize ports and more than one island. Or perhaps not. I doubt we’ll know until after Iranian lights go out. If the kinetics conclude, what remains is re-starting the maritime insurance apparatus with or without Lloyd’s of London. Then, tankers start moving again.
JHK’s new novel, a comic romp set during the week of the tragic JFK Assassination, November 1963. Autographed Copies from Battenkill Books.
JHK’s World Made By Hand four-book novel cycle. A small town in the remnant of the USA in the not-distant future. The community struggles to carry on. . . .
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The greatest mental retardation in history is POLITICS. Pick the blue or the red pills...either way, you will be endlessly bombarded with lies and propaganda. Never will you ever see a light at the end of the "political" tunnel...unless you are passing into the next life perhaps.
I particularly enjoyed seeing Trump, as Scott Adams would say, "Picking the money up that was left on the table" by a frightened Lloyds of London. It happened so quickly that you knew it was pre-planned. Brilliant.