Clusterfuck Nation
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And so the four horsepeople-of-color arise, at once the glorious avatars of Wokesterdom in all their incendiary wrath, and the butt of ridicule among a pretty big chunk of everybody else in this land. I speak of congresswomen Omar, Tlaib, Pressley, and AOC, a.k.a. “the Squad,” riding a reconn mission to the precipice of that great cliff of electoral catastrophe — in advance of the political party that is apt to follow them over the edge in 2020, like so many suicidal lemmings.
Charges of “racism” have been twanging around the Federal District all week as if a throng of medieval re-enactors had taken over the place and were putting on a colorful pageant about ergot poisoning, with the townspeople afflicted by creeping incubi, crawling succubi, winged demons, murderous furies, and other agents of Satan. I have often noted that our president is the genuine article of a supernatural figure himself, being both a Golden Golem of Greatness and a Twitter troll of the highest degree. Last week, the four Squad gals pointed their fingers and ululated at him — “racist! racist! —expecting perhaps that a bolt from on-high might strike him dead, but it only prompted him to more keyboard villainy, challenging them to fly back to whatever infernal hellhole they came out of. For three of them it was the good ol’ USA, parts of which are, let’s face it, rather hellhole-ish these days.
The American race hustle is getting kind of old and it’s a sure loser for the Democratic Party. Why they can’t move beyond it and engage with the many other mighty matters of our time is one of those abiding mysteries of life, like why the birdies sing, or why the Mets can’t get decent relief pitching. I daresay that in my lifetime this country has bent over backwards to assist, accommodate, and uplift the demographic that styles itself nowadays as people-of-color. None of that has managed to abolish significant economic inequality. But, really, what else can be done? Spend trillions more promoting fatherless households? (The Wokesters might like that, seeing as how much they detest people of the male persuasion.)
The main “ask” these days is to allow Mexicans and Central Americans to cross the border as they please and receive a menu of benefits provided gratis by the US government, and thus from US taxpayers. The arguments for that from Wokesterdom range from bad faith to completely insane, yet they are now being retailed at the highest level of presidential election politics. Every candidate in the first Democratic “debate” raised a hand in favor of providing free medical care to illegal border-jumpers. I wonder how that sits with the Americans who now pay $12,000 a year for health insurance with a $5,000 deductible.
Of course, this policy of unfettered illegal immigration does not economically favor the sizable demographic of poor Americans, many of whom are people-of-color. In theory, the border-jumpers are taking away an awful lot of jobs. But I think the argument there is that 300 years of slavery gives bonafide US citizens-of-color a pass on manual labor — so it is not against their interests to ally with the open border advocates — while both groups have an interest in getting any free stuff the government may offer.
The white liberal masochists allied with this crusade, led by House Speaker Nancy Pelosi, may have reached their own red-line for pain and suffering under the reigning twisted thought-regime. Last week, AOC attempted to tar Madame Pelosi as a “racist.” The day will come — if it has not already — when Madame P will have to usher the Squad into the House cloakroom and tune-up each member with thirty inches of re-bar, good and hard.
The Squad, meanwhile, is giving aid and comfort to the shock troops of Wokesterdom, the AntiFas, a devoted member of which last week attempted to shoot up and firebomb an Immigration and Customs Enforcement building in Tacoma. The perp, one Willem Van Spronsen, 69, was gunned down for his trouble, but left a “manifesto” detailing his allegiance to the Wokester party line. Another Wokester gang in Aurora, Colorado, marched on an ICE building, took down the US flag, and raised the flag of Mexico. Bad optics, I’d say. Imagine how the video footage of that will play in Michigan and Pennsylvania when election season rolls around.
Also meanwhile, the party’s pathetic attempt to revive the walking dead narrative of RussiaGate is not working too well down on Jerold Nadler’s House Judiciary Committee. The chairman apparently discovered that his star witness, Robert Mueller, might have to answer some embarrassing questions about the conduct of his investigation — like, why did it go on for two years when his chief deputy, Mr. Weissmann, was informed from the get-go that the main predicate document was a fraud? So, Mr. Mueller’s turn in the witness chair keeps getting postponed clear into the August recess. I doubt the former Special Counsel will ever sit in that hot-seat. If I was him, I sure wouldn’t do it voluntarily. Oh, did anyone notice the House staged an impeachment vote on Wednesday? It flopped too.
Finally, there is the walking time-bomb known as Jeffrey Epstein, Democratic Party poohbah and impresario of an underage sex racket featuring the “Lolita Express” airplane service to his private “Orgy Island” in the Caribbean, with auxiliary party shacks in New York City and the New Mexico Desert. Rogue reports have been styling Epstein’s doings as an international blackmailing operation associated with the CIA and other Intel outfits, including the UK’s MI6 and Israel’s Mossad, for the purpose of keeping international bigshots on a short leash. Who knows? At the center of it all is former President Bill Clinton, listed twenty-six times on the Lolita Express’s flight manifest — though the ex-Prez said last week in a statement that it was only four times. (Consider the source.) A raft of unsealed documents in the matter has been court-ordered to drop any day, and power-players all over the world — especially in our nation’s capital and on Wall Street — are rumored to be chewing their fingernails down to the nubbins as they wait for it.
What a cargo of wickedness is borne by the garbage barge called the Democratic Party as it chugs out to sea toward a sickening, slightly radioactive orange sunset for what is looking like its final voyage.
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From the Jeff Greenaway Series
At Ponsonby Hall, a new Hampshire prep school for screw-ups, things are far from all right.
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Something Strange is going on at Camp Timahoe in Lost Indian, Vermont, summer of 1962.
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Great Summer Reading… JHK’s Hippie Novel!
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