Lionel Nation

LIONEL LIVE in Amenia, NY
 
On January 22, 2020 — LIONEL, the Emmy award-winning mononymous digital truth warrior, veteran talk radio practitioner, former prosecutor, trial lawyer, bluegrass practitioner, author and legal and media analyst inaugurates his 2020 Pop-Up Entertainment Activism Tour when he graces the portals of Monte’s Local Kitchen & Tap Room in beauteous Amenia, Dutchess County, NY on Wednesday, January 22, 2020 from 6-8:30 PM for a dinner show that will wow, mesmerize, delightfully infuriate, enchant and entertain in a style that is without peer. Seeing is believing.
 
America is witnessing an information renaissance. Never before have our country and the world had such access to so much information and political data while exhibiting in some cases a concomitant profound ignorance. Is it too much data? Too much information to process and digest? Nope, LIONEL believes that the best and only way to understand what’s happening is through the absurdist lens. If you don’t find what’s occurring before your eyes hysterically funny, you’re missing the point. And LIONEL will bedazzle you with a wit and perspective that will inspire howls and painful cachinnation and snorting chortles. Please join us.
 
Anyone who’s followed LIONEL knows he’s never hidden his support of and for President Trump. And that has certainly earned him his share of detractors from political sinistrality. LIONEL loves controversy. He thrives on it. After all, you only catch flak when you’re over the target. And baby, we’re over the target.
 
LIONEL’s been in the business of show for over 32 years and loves the adventure of platform innovation. When talk radio was at its zenith LIONEL was there. Talkers Magazine voted him in the pantheon “HEAVIEST HUNDRED: The 100 most important radio talk show hosts of all time.” He was podcasting before anyone knew what it was and again was honored by Talkers with inclusion in “Talkers Frontier Fifty,” celebrating pioneering podcasters. He’s hit the standup circuit with, what he calls, (Out)spoken Word. And now, Pop-Up Guerilla Thought Entertainment. Are you in? 
 
Dig this. F. Scott Fitzgerald said, “The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function.” That’s you, patriot. That’s us. Are you with us?
 
For TICKETS and information CLICK HERE.
 
DISCLAIMER: LIONEL is an unabashed supporter of President Trump. Those unaccustomed to such unapologetic fealty and admiration for this man’s political genius or who suffer from chronic TDS may experience uncontrollable dyspepsia, teeth-gnashing and spiritual disquietude. Please consult your physician if necessary. See you there and God Bless America.
 

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How do I follow this Lionel feller? Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, the Lionel Media website and browse the merchandise, memorabilia and marketing available at the Official Lionel Nation Gear Store and above all, the Lionel Nation YouTube Channel where we engage in immersive, totally interactive live stream broadcasts twice daily. It leaves antediluvian talk radio in the dust. Where it shall remain. And when it comes to the moiety of the team, Mrs. L can be followed thusly on Twitter. Please also refer to Mrs. L’s Focus on Human Trafficking channel. Please, watch her video with an emergency room pediatrician; it’s simply chilling.
 

Chugging through America’s atherosclerotic rail artery. As I tap this Mrs. L and I are all aboard the Amtrak regional to the sump pump of the swamp, Washington DC. We just pulled out of Penn Station, the most antiquated and anachronistic and antediluvian and ossified and concretized shithole of shitholes. A virtual human detritus arcade. The tabernacle of the psychiatrically bereft. The cathedral of Black Belt crackers. An assault on the olfactories. My God, what have I done! (Echoing Byrne.) Shoeless, toothless, senseless, reality-less urchins and spent souls, tattered and distraught while discarded. Mumbling nonsensical threats and belches through teeth like piano keys, a 10-year-old scruff, watery eyes and breath that could smelt ore. God’s children perhaps but transient nightmares. The travelers’ trauma. The commuters’ Cuckoo’s Nest. And Amtrak “police” do nothing, these fat sloths and tenterbellied oafs grazing about waiting to retire. Every conceivable loon and batshit crazy ambulatory schiz scaring the shit out of the innocent tourist is here. You can always tell the hardcore New Yorker who will not so much as shift a smidgeon of their atomic footprint, not one molecule or neuron firing recognition or acknowledgement as some demented vagrant voice-farts something about a dollar, coffee or Edward Witten’s hypotheses on supersymmetry. Ah, New York. Meanwhile the meanest, nastiest, rudest Amtrak . . . get this . . . CUSTOMER SERVICE agent greets us. CUSTOMER SERVICE?! Bwahahaha! This guy makes Ed Gein look like Robert Q. Lewis and, no, I have no idea what that means. Ah, Penn Station. The depot time forgot. The posterchild of the decline of infrastructure. While China and virtually every developmentally relevant society rolls out the latest in locomotion from Maglev to HyperSpace to InterDimensional whatever we’ve got Floyd Smoot and the Cannonball. But when you have to peregrinate to Swamp City DC, it’s the best ticket in town. Amtrak, Hunter Biden’s quarry and Creepy Joe’s mark. Amtrak, the apex of American locomotion and travel. And have you ever been in a Club Acela? Egad! You can luxuriate in a place that’s a cross between an ICE Detention Center and a Super 8 lobby. To be sure, they don’t let just anyone greet Acela dupes conned into this First Class dreamscape, no siree, Bob. Nope, they get the best to man the front desk. Think rejects from a Tilt-A-Whirl midway concession in Dothan. We’re talking rough. Enough with that, now the critical data.
 
Donald Trump is a genius. Not just a stable one. Just a bona fide genius. There appears to be in fact and on display a Trump Doctrine. And with 292 days until the election this is not good news for the intellectually disaffected Dems, Never Trumpers and terminally-afflicted TDS livestock. This is the worst of news for these miserable naysayers without a plan, hope, vision, dream . . . name it. These are very bad times. The worst of times. His latest brilliance was on full display last eve in Milwaukee, site of the Demoncratic National Convention in July. From the moment he hit the stage until he walked off 90 minutes later (with no water sippage, no can breaks . . . is he running a Foley, for Chrissake?) he had them in the palm of his hand and he was again masterful and how this must gripe their arse, those rancid Dems.
 
‘O Sole Mio’s dead and no one gives a shit. You know it’s true. Casey Kasem Salami was surgically dispatched and evaporated over a flame, hit by a missile with a precision that knows no equal. Meanwhile, Iranian geniuses blew out of the sky innocent passengers on a Ukrainian flight. Whoops. And have you heard this tack? While this story was being reported those quisling bastards at NPR went overtime reminding the world of how American error blew out of the sky an Iranian passenger plane in 1988. Can you believe these vermin? Stick to the point, Ayatollah Assahollah. Focus on your own Iranian numbnuts (cf. Deez Nuts) and targeting morons who are confounded by innocents on regulated flight paths. And here’s the best part, Demoncrats, unable still to even approximate a message, are now demanding to know the particular bases of definitional parameters of the imminent (not eminent) threat POTUS employed in assessing the threat posture of this (now) grease spot. They’re simply unbelievable.
 
Rerun of Season One. Have you heard the latest iteration of Russia, Russia, Russia, the Russophobic Kremlin-bashing redbaiting Cold War carping, bleating, barking seal circus act and feigned histrionics? Oh, you did, huh? Then explain it. Go ahead, we’ll wait. But let me save you some time. It’s in fact what is blatantly, nakedly and obviously a limited hangout in preparation for and anticipation of something tastily nasty from perhaps the illegally confined Assange and his merry band of WikiLeaker prankster journos laying the groundwork to expose and (if there’s a Gawd) indict Creepy Joe et fils. Remember, the Ukrainian subject model will prove to be the most incomprehensibly stupid move when Poor Ol’ Pelosi allowed her misfits to run roughshod: So where are they now? At what stage do they enjoy? Reruns. Season One. Back to the drawing board. The impeachment, fraud, Ukraine and Obstruction of Whatever slumgullion gumbo accusation they’ve mixed together yet again. If it weren’t so tragic and pathetic, it would be (as the kids say) hilarious. And look at who’s pushing this yarn. Yep, the usual suspects. Seriously, no need to even comment here. Trust me.
 
What the hell happened to these folks, Sparky? #FoxNews has become museum quality paleoconservatism without the paleo or the conservatism. It’s maundering populism couched in celebratory echolalia. Tried, spent and prime for displacement by the new, bold and fearless truth warrior. Think I’m kidding? These folks keep regurgitating the same rote presentation with a ball-less vim, scaredy-cat approximations of real critical news that would wow the masses and (as we say in West Tampa say) KNOCK THEIR D-CK IN THE DIRT. Why must news be so boring? Trite and manicured and trimmed and leveled and beveled to fit in a nice carrying case, free of the sharp edges that excite and incite and invite. Will someone please tell me! My colleagues from heritage talk radio are like the Japanese soldier who doesn’t know the war’s over. It’s not 1988. No more Rush wannabes. No more headline rippers. Please, not for our sake but for yours, wake up and grow up. This is serious bidness, Sparky.
 
There’s a simple reason why #Megxzit captivates me. Because I love to see these inbred homozygotes fail, screw up and plummet to dirt where they belong. Harry turned out to redefine schmuckhood when he hooked up with this viper, Double-M. Dear Gawd, terminally p-whipped. Maybe it was part and parcel of his self-destructive tack perhaps over the fact that he never bought the fantasy that his Mum was killed in a tragic “accident.” Especially with beady-eyed amphibian (not full-reptile yet) Phil lurking in the background. Watch. After a short spell, he’ll divorce MM and crawl back to the Royals, shorn, shot and shat on.
 
Lionel’s Pop-Up Road Show Invades Again. Take note. On January 22, Wednesday, 2020 CE from 6-8:30 PM ET in Amenia, NY, as in Dutchess County, I’ll be laying out the groundwork to the success and triumph of this noble republic via my blockbuster, sui generis, nonpareil and simply off-the-chain (out)spoken word presentation (others would call it “stand up,” never I) as spellbound diners howl with delight. The place is Monte’s Local Kitchen & Tap Room. Here are the details. But arrange now your schedule. Hie! Seats are limited and fire marshal rules limit human cacophonies in extreme. TICKETS HERE
 
How do I follow this Lionel feller? Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, the Lionel Media website and browse the merchandise, memorabilia and marketing available at the Official Lionel Nation Gear Store and above all, the Lionel Nation YouTube Channel where we engage in immersive, totally interactive live stream broadcasts twice daily. It leaves antediluvian talk radio in the dust. Where it shall remain. And when it comes to the moiety of the team, Mrs. L can be followed thusly on Twitter. Please also refer to Mrs. L’s Focus on Human Trafficking channel. Please, watch her video with an emergency room pediatrician; it’s simply chilling.

Not sure if you saw President Trump’s speech this morning live, but you’ll see it later I trust. Here’s what I saw. Better yet, here’s my video dissection and disquisition. And now this.
 
Trump, Donald J. 45^th President of the United States of America. Reflects intrepidity. Steadfastness. Certitude. Determination. And a #POTUS having the time of his life. Stewarding the helm with an aplomb and exuberance and decisiveness we haven’t seen since . . . well, not sure exactly. And don’t give me that Reagan nonsense; he was acting (though quite effectively). This power was certainly never seen in the last marionette we had. Dear Gawd, Sparky. Remember that feller? The Manchurian Mr. Obama. The obeisant one. The [DS] dimbox. Not the anax andron of Trump. Think of it. Mr. Cool sent $1.7 billion in cool cash to Iran, in unmarked bills. On pallets. PALLETS! Shrink-wrapped. 2003? Sound familiar? Oh, but you’ve heard that. It just never gets old, the shocking horror, that is.
 
Remember, the Left’s BFF BO made the deal with Iran that no one can imagine or believe even to this day. Especially the Iranians. I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that I’m suggesting Obama was a corrupt, impuissant dolt, a sockpuppet clown and handmaiden to the [DS] globalist gangsters. Precisely. And your point is what exactly?
 
I will never cease to be amazed by the number of blatant quislings who appear on virtually every #FauxLeft news platform spouting some of the most cosmically incomprehensible drivel ever uttered by a human being or in the annals of drivel uttering. And the reason for this has nothing to do with any attempt on their part to craft a cogent explication as to the Iranian point of view or any careful dissection of Trump’s foreign policy. No, it is [TDS] in full bloom. So incredibly aggressive is this neurological and psychiatric condition that when they see him, think of him or are reminded of him something in the reasoning centers of their executive brain turns off completely. And in the world of collective synchronized histrionics, the one who outdoes the other wins the prize. See that your over-the-top lunacy outplays your deskmate. Why? To beef up your reel and to be invited back. That simple. The autoangelist and pious pukes of the treasonous left take turns portending disaster and lending their vile pessimism porn doomsaying to the unsuspecting crowds who watch their pusillanimous pap. Are you getting the idea that I don’t like them much?
 
The other day I was watching a YouTube presentation from one Tucker Carlson, the previously bowtied member of the Fox News traveling comedy caravan. And what I heard could best described as a 1990s junior college essay on the evils of Leo Strauss and a textbook denunciation of the horrors of neoconservatism. Holy Norman Podhoretz, Batman! Where’ve I heard this before? Before you knew it the Pavlovian kneejerk went full jerk to a dusting off of the yellowed pages of PNAC and the usual tripe, viz. whom do you fill the vacuum with after regime change? Yes, these are rational points but we see the real reason for this. He wants to create the friction division between himself and his fellow Foxers to impress the Brothers Murdoch to keep him and maybe Judge Nap once Iger pulls the plug on the pretend independence of Ailes’s treasure. But I digress.

Remember, watch OANN if you absolutely have to watch something that looks like network news. And watch me if you want to be cognitively dazzled. Ahem.
 
So good news, Americans. Iran never knew what hit them or will hit them should they elevate the rhetoric to anything about high-screech bleating and wailing and armchair and amateur moirology.
 
Thank you, President Trump.
 
How do I follow this Lionel feller? Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, the Lionel Media website and browse the merchandise, memorabilia and marketing available at the Official Lionel Nation Gear Store and above all, the Lionel Nation YouTube Channel where we engage in immersive, totally interactive live stream broadcasts twice daily. It leaves antediluvian talk radio in the dust. Where it shall remain. And when it comes to the moiety of the team, Mrs. L can be followed thusly on Twitter. Please also refer to Mrs. L’s Focus on Human Trafficking channel. Please, watch her video with an emergency room pediatrician; it’s simply chilling.

I knew America was gullible but never this much. Seriously. The level of naiveté is cosmic. And from those who fancy themselves as connected and [WOKE] or variations thereof.
 
Forgive me for doubling my newsletter efforts. I just laid one on you yesterday but I couldn’t let this go. If I hear one more person gasp at Ricky Gervais’s faux courage I swear I’ll puke. If you’re one of the twelve people who never bought this utter shite, forgive me and this. If you’re not, I’ve one question: How bloody gullible are you?
 
Ricky Gervais (RG) is a Pedowood [DS] shill who was handed a script that was written for him by a team of writers (though he most certainly provided adequate tweakage with his own unique slant and take). But think not that this sole intrepid comic took on Tinseltown single-handedly. It’s a work, Sparky. A con. A con that repeats itself yearly as America falls for this bit every time.
 
That script after crafting was then placed in the teleprompter whereupon it was read by RG, directors, camera people, AD’s, TD’s, line producers, cleaning ladies, receptionists . . .  everybody! After that, camera positions had to be blocked and arranged so that when the bad boy of slash and burn references De Niro or Baby Yoda, they had to be at the ready. Which means they knew and were poised. Prepared and standing by for the choreographed moment of brilliant skewering. When Tom Hanks was allowed his series of aghast takes, that had to be scripted in advance. You see, the director had to be standing by, camera positioned and targeted. Impromptu, my arse!
 
These sick people are so monumentally demented that they’d feel left out if they weren’t insulted. It’s somewhat akin to a Don Rickles engagement. “Why didn’t he mention me?” and not only did they want to be skewered but so did NBC, the Golden Globers, agents, managers, the whole lot.
 
But here’s the kicker. While you feel RG skewered so-and-so, he/she/it was laughing at your mindless innocence in thinking anyone cares. Because nothing will be done regarding anything that was mentioned. Nothing about Leo’s underage dates, Apple’s use of sweatshops and slave labor, nothing. Even the Felicity Huffman joke was most probably negotiated by her agent orchestrating the big post-pen return. Notice how Lori Loughlin wasn’t mentioned. As well as transgender jokes. Or Oprah skewering, James Gunn pedo tweets, Disney. Nothing. Nada. RG can get ballsy to a point but no further. Ah, yes, RG the bad boy of scripted and contrived would never deign to cross that line.
 
A limited hangout is the deliberate and controlled revelation of someinformation (e.g. something scandalous or even criminal) to try to confuse and/or prevent discovery of other information or to provide the impression and belief that this is the full extent of the subject matter. So in this instance Hollyweird pretends to be shocked and embarrassed over RG’s shocking scripted and previously approved jokes, jabs and jibes hoping you’ll move on thinking that’s the extent of the attack. Did you notice how the Catholic Church was included in the pedo joke while a glowering Bergoglio doppelgänger, Jonathan Pryce, feigned absolute mortification as his The Two Popes gets lumped into the gag? Brilliant. See, there’s always time to slash Christianity, especially Catholicism.
 
Remember, these folks are actors. At least on paper. And they live in a world that you and I will never visit or even approximate (GOOD!) and as such they’ve no sense of reality or believability. These are cons. Freakish pervo pedo cons. Rapists, paraphiles, debauchers, troilists and demented sexual predators. And such has been the way since Chaplin and Fatty Arbuckle. Since Shirley Temple, Judy Garland, name it. These sickos have no appreciation for normalcy and goodness and as of late they realize the gig just might be up. So what to do? This.
 
That’s right. Create the image and fantasy that the actual reality of their sordidness has been found out by none other than Hollyweird outsider and Brit outlier RG. What blinding bilge! Especially now, especially with Jeffrey Epstein in the news. Thanks to another limited hangout. Let me explain.
 
Sunday night’s 60 Minutes highlighted preeminent forensic pathologist Dr. Michael Baden in his brutal TV deposition that Epstein was dispatched, whacked and offed via ligature-obvious strangulation and homicide. #EpsteinDidntKillHimself live and in color. And what that did was again via limited hangout show the world that this dastard’s elimination has been exposed. Therefore, case closed and nothing to see here. Meanwhile Ghislaine Maxwell’s on the lam unindicted and unscathed. You see, they tell you, they show you. They admit exactly what you know to be true because (1) they don’t care what you think and (2) they know you’ll do absolutely nothing.
 
Now, any questions?
 
How do I follow this Lionel feller? Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, the Lionel Media website and browse the merchandise, memorabilia and marketing available at the Official Lionel Nation Gear Store and above all, the Lionel Nation YouTube Channel where we engage in immersive, totally interactive live stream broadcasts twice daily. It leaves antediluvian talk radio in the dust. Where it shall remain. And when it comes to the moiety of the team, Mrs. L can be followed thusly on Twitter. Please also refer to Mrs. L’s Focus on Human Trafficking channel. Please, watch her video with an emergency room pediatrician; it’s simply chilling.

So long, Solemaini. See ya. Adios. Sayonara. Have a nice day. The dispatch of Qasem Soleimani, also spelled Qassem Suleimani or Qassim Soleimani or S-P-L-A-T. Look, I’m not one to ghoulishly snarl and yip and howl over the taking of innocent life and that’s why it’s perfectly fine here to react accordingly because the surgical ablation of this purulent fungating boil of fallen humanity is not in that category, so here goes. He was zeroed in on, sighted, pinpointed and dispatched instanter. Like that. Poof! Vaporized. Nullified with extreme prejudice. “Taking out the architect of the Islamic Republic’s decades-long active campaign of violence against the United States and its allies, especially Israel, represents a tectonic shift in Middle Eastern politics,” wrote Michael Doran, defense expert and analyst. In the New York Times, no less. Translation for those playing along at home: As was Corn Pop, Solemaini was a bad dude. And virtually unknown to anyone, certainly in the [DS] corporatist apparatchik #FakeNewsMedia typing pool. Watching as much as I could of these intellectual bantamweight pseudologists made me retch. The faux wailers, compensated moirologists. Trained mynahs. Howling on cue. Paid to lie and spew loud lachrymations to some feller they’ve never heard of before ordered. Are you getting the sense I’m not found of them?
 
Blame Israel, the MIC, everyone but the bad guy. You expected it. You knew it was coming. The same old tune, the same old refrain. And it goes something like this. The US is fighting Israel’s battles. They set it up, we pulled the trigger. It’s all about the Military Industrial Complex and Wall Street and stocks and ____ (Your Choice Here). Notwithstanding the fact of history. And reality. And realpolitik. But you expected them and that. It’s the way it always is. And with free speech comes it, this rather Pavlovian obeisance to the refrain. But, suffice it to say, Israel benefits when the strategic terror planning conductor is expurgated. As do we, the world and civilized humanity. That simple. Oh, and, yes, Sparky, defense stocks enjoy a spike. Does this surprise you? Ever hear of the Butterfly Effect? Nonlinear cause and effect. It’s in their disinformation packet to be memorized and regurgitated. And it’s getting old and forgotten. Remember, today’s Monday. A new news cycle. Impeachment, Super Bowl’s approaching. General O Sole Mio’s already in the rearview mirror.
 
These are the days of the neoteric. Scrap the usual take, Sparky. We’re thinking new. Novel. Unorthodox and unique. Forget political parties and Walter Cronkite. We’ve a new generation of voters, born in captivity with nary a clue as to what the hell’s going on. We live in the Twitterverse where maladjusted misanthropes covered in Cheeto dust hunch over a laptop in the ‘rent’s basement and bark at the moon. You want to explain Reaganomics to these folks? Good luck. It’s a new world and a new POTUS who had the vision and the foresight to hook up to the masses in ways and platforms brand new to the asylum. That’s right, DJT hacked the combination, appended brilliance with an “@” and changed the course of American politics. Forever.
 
Harvey’s going to double down on the Sicilian flu this week. Weinstein, that is. The man will portray Oscar-caliber (when that actually meant something) incapacitation as his trial commenced today. Hobbled and sidelined by accelerated senescence, this dotard in the role of his life will foot drag, shake, pulse, heave (and ho) and slide along with walker in hand, appearing (if it’s possible) more ugly, disgusting and emesis-inducing than ever. And the case is off to a great start as his new lawyer seeking brass-ring media stardom announces that she’s going to take on #MeToo full force, full frontal, full contact and full Monty. Full metal hack it. And CourtTV’s going balls-to-the-wall, hoping this will be their new OJ, their new shot in the arm. Imagine what Harvey’s thinking after Epstein took the dirt nap through murder-induced suicide. #EpsteinDidNotKillHimself
 
Memory [Jizz]laine: We’re coming for you. Remember her. Ghislaine Maxwell, the “socialite,” public enemy numero uno, is in the crosshairs. Look, Bill Barr, we don’t know exactly what you’ve been up to heretofore but it looks like plenty of nothing. You’ve essentially announced [CRICKETS]. No big shakes on MS-13, fentanyl traffickers, opioid mills, puppy mills, Hayley Mills. Nothing. Nada. Bupkis. The big goose egg, my bagpiper friend. And remember, as the saying goes: “A true gentleman is a man who can play the bagpipes, but doesn’t.” Bill, don’t just stand there. Indict someone. Anyone.
 
Dems. Deez Dems. Nuts. Blecch. Yuck. Ick. I absolutely despise this certain batch of faux Democrats. And you do too. Not all but most, a lot, a significant number. I mean I really detest them. This bunch. These faux Dems, these demented libturds and their cosmically and cosmetically disjointed view of the world. Yes, I know. I’m cautious to avoid the word hate, as that’s been the target of these morons. You can’t hate as that’s been criminalized unless the hate is for Trump and then that hate’s exalted and transpositioned into righteous protest and indignation. You earn your bones, your badge if you hate Trump for everything and anything. The more diffuse the hate the better.
 
This tribe of obstructionists. I loathe them. They’re like an impacted bezoar. Some huge wad of intestinal wax that allegedly sidelined and felled Elvis and the Duke. (You’ve heard those weekend radio ads, right? But I digress.) I detest them with a fury and a passion that’s inexplicable and heretofore never experienced. I was never elevated to such despising. Until now. They make me seethe and rail. I wax emetic. Vesuvius, baby. Nancy Pelosi is Brunhildë, Nadler, an experiment gone bad. And Schiff . . . well, that’s too easy. This group of un-American mutineers are at the very heart and base of turning my New York City into some dystopian beta-test.

We’re gonna reelect that motherf*cker! Sound familiar? January 3, 2019, hours after she was sworn in the Michigander termagant Rashida Tlaib, who’s to rational electioneering what Al Martino was to microsurgery, this vile charter member of the Squad Furies uttered this now famous and prescient classless profanity. “[W]e’re gonna go in there and we’re gonna impeach the motherfucker!” To be correct, the entire quote was presented thusly.

“When your son looks at you and said ‘Mamma, look, you won — bullies don’t win.’ And I said, ‘Baby they don’t, because we’re gonna go in there and we’re gonna impeach the motherfucker!’”
 

Rashida out of luck. This is the low rent, base and classless claptrap that we’ve had to endure. Well, that changes now. Bigly. With 301 days to the election, here we come. All of us. The lot. The passel. And where there’s one of us, there’s all of us. (And where have I heard that before?)­­ RT took on DT. For the match of her life. So, let’s see what she and the rest of Der Squad do as POTUS45 locomotes towards reelection. In 301 days.
 
Start spreading the news. New York’s looking like the set of Death Wishmeets Night of the Living Dead. Through and as the result of catastrophic, cataclysmic and catatonic criminal justice and bail reforms, New York’s most insane, dangerous and criminally derelict are caught and released for whatever they do for reasons NO RATIONAL PERSON CAN UNDERSTAND. Did I say rational? That may explain it. My guess is that it is part of a [DS] masterplan to subvert and destroy every vestige of rational order that our society enjoys. Everything. And every thing. It’s part of the new calamity protocol. You’ve read of LA and Frisco now the proud owners of 20 pound bags o’ poop strewn about the landscape. Why? Disorder and destabilization. [DS] evildoers can’t prosper in order. And calm. They advance exponentially when everything’s amiss and askew. I ask you. Jews in NYC are under attack from the A-Team of loons. Who in particular? Miscellaneous haters spewing such incomprehensible gibberish that no one can remotely decipher what’s being said. Malists, NYC is the place for you. It’s become full-tilt, full-throttle nuts. And dangerous. And soon unlivable, thus perhaps explicating the exodus taking place at clips heretofore never seen.
 
Mass hysteria as spectator sport. This is an ochlocracy: perfect, pure and simple. Swarms and mobs, gaggles, flocks and passels, herds and schools — murmurations and formations of the easily moved (and paid Soros-style). All swept up in the moment and the frenzy and the communal siren call of publicity. A giant LOOK AT ME! moment forever captured, catalogued and memorialized. An incoherent moment, mind you. But a moment nonetheless. And they provided invaluable and priceless B-roll fodder for Trump media armies. “Is this the America you want?” It was that simple. If you want to see what mayhem looks like, here’s Exhibit A. Bravo, DNC. You stepped in it again. Just think what the critical Independent vote thinks after watching this freak show. As Cruise’s Jack Reacher noted: “Remember, you wanted this.”
  
The etiology of TDS tantrums. But where did these people get the idea they could terrorize innocent victims aka Trump supporters or staff? Does this ring a bell? “If you think we’re rallying now you ain’t seen nothing yet,” Rep. Maxine Waters, D-Calif, told supporters at a rally in Los Angeles this past June. “If you see anybody from that (Trump) Cabinet in a restaurant, in a department store, at a gasoline station, you get out and you create a crowd and you push back on them, and you tell them they’re not welcome anymore, anywhere.” Can you say “incitement,” Ms. Waters? I can. The Wig may have finally lost it.
 
And speaking of Maxine. Some were most taken aback when POTUS slammed the ostensible paucity of Maxine’s intellectuality. Low IQ Maxine. Harsh? Mean? Perhaps. But oh, so accurate. If you haven’t heard this testament to comedy genius may I lay this beaut on you. Mad Maxine trolled, punk’d and scammed yet again by this troupe of Russian wiseguys. Listen to this woman. Listen to the inarticulation, the tenuous grasp, the perilous connection to what’s happening. The cosmic gullibility. The incomprehensible daftness of this delirious dolt. And she wants to be briefed on military targeting?! I still attribute the whole pathetic mess to wig constriction. Plain and simple. Bless her heart.
   
Enough. We must move on.
 
#MAGA2020. It’s been 1665 days since President Donald Trump announced he was running for President, 1154 days since he was elected, 1080 days since he was inaugurated and it’s only 301 days to the 2020 reelection where he will be again resoundingly swept back into office via landslide, taking the electoral and popular vote. And during the aforementioned periods and in view of the last, what has been the Democrats’ message? Tell me. What are their hopes, goals, intentions, wishes, dreams, platforms, plans, programs, ideas, vision? Anyone? Anybody? Hello?
 
Read this carefully. Pay particular note. Donald Trump is the greatest President in my lifetime. How this man has been able to captivate, motivate and scintillate huge swaths of Americans is nothing sort of astounding. He devastated the best and (sorta) brightest of the GOP contenders, wiping the floor with them. Bernie was obliterated through the Oven Mitt Fashionista herself after being apparently threatened and/or aggressively persuaded to cease and desist instanter. And speaking of Shillary, who brought back the Mao jacket and reptilian exoskeleton back brace as fashion accessory, her disintegration and implosion are ones for the history books. POTUS’s HRC target now is obtainable through Huber or Sessions, viz. to have her indicted for any of the series of possible charges that are available. She has flouted the law and her responsibility for too long. #OvenMitt4Git
 
This is my 32nd year in professional political and legal commentary and analysis. I have never enjoyed it more than now and cannot even imagine it getting better. But something tells me it will. Thank you for sharing this with me. Admit it, you’ve never felt more alive.

God bless America.
 
How do I follow this Lionel feller? Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, the Lionel Media website and browse the merchandise, memorabilia and marketing available at the Official Lionel Nation Gear Store and above all, the Lionel Nation YouTube Channel where we engage in immersive, totally interactive live stream broadcasts twice daily. It leaves antediluvian talk radio in the dust. Where it shall remain. And when it comes to the moiety of the team, Mrs. L can be followed thusly on Twitter. Please also refer to Mrs. L’s Focus on Human Trafficking channel. Please, watch her video with an emergency room pediatrician; it’s simply chilling.

The three (3) essential areas of focus initially suggested and advanced by Adam Schiff and his Intel Star Chamber will comprise the following areas of focus, reviewed and analyzed herein. 

1. Did President Trump request that a President Volodymyr Zelensky initiate investigations that would ultimately benefit POTUS’s own personal political and partisan interests in the US, including inter alia an investigation anent the President’s political rival and potential opponent in the 2020 U.S. presidential election, Joe Biden et fils?
2. Did President Trump, either directly or by and through agents, seek and endeavor to use the power of the Office of the President and other resources of the federal government in myriad ways to apply considerable pressure on Zelensky and the government of Ukraine to advance the President’s personal political interests, including in effect leveraging an Oval Office meeting desired by Zelensky or by withholding U.S. military assistance to Ukraine?
3. Did President Trump and his Administration seek to obstruct, obfuscate, conceal, suppress or cover up information to conceal from the Congress and the American people evidence about the President’s actions and conduct?

And the ultimate question to be reviewed and considered is presented thusly: Assuming arguendo any of the aforementioned are answered and proved in the affirmative, is it enough to reverse and subvert the franchise by extricating a duly-elected President? Especially when the election is a mere 360 days away from this moment?

Verity. Let me start by saying (as I am wont to do) that Americans are essentially and organically good people for the most part, by and large. And let’s be a tad universalist as well and throw in the notion of mankind sharing in said goodness. As in worldwide. As in internationally. True. Humans are indeed preternaturally (to some) naturally hardworking, honest and, I daresay, patriotic when it comes to abecedarian concepts of no shite, elemental, basic and rudimentary love of country and order. Let me even throw nationalism into the mix versus nativism and certainly versus white nationalism or supremacy for that matter (terms I’ve yet to figure and truly grasp and master). That being said, this is still a lazy lot nonetheless with nary a clue as to fundamental issues, and a fortiori the essential concept that the #FakeNewsMedia are corporatist statist fascist operatives and apparatchiks designed and employed to spread drivel, dreck and disinformation to the fat and happy slobs who’ve never grasped the fact that their beloved liberties can be taken away in the snap of a finger. Too harsh? I’m just getting started.
 
Today’s #FakeNewsMedia is the AIDS of informational breakdown. Why? What’s AIDS primarily? It’s marked by the breakdown of the immune system. Those infected, inflicted and affected suffer from opportunistic diseases caused by the body’s radar system having been shut down. That’s what’s happening today with our news and information media. Look at it this way. What’s worse: Knowing the wrong thing or not knowing anything? I submit the latter. And if you’re allowed to wallow in this retched information and news septic tank what you’ll invariably learn is nothing. As in the absence of something. Something of matter. Something of note. The dearth, paucity and nonexistence of the critical.
 
We’re at war. And the enemy is internecine, embedded and from within. A dormant pathogen called nescience and ennui that uses intellectual torpor as the base or medium of spreading vile misinformation and propaganda. Am I getting through, Sparky? Blink once for yes.
 
I don’t care if you like Trump, voted for him, hate him, love him, that’s not the issue.  The issue is the Constitution. And it’s under attack. Why? Let me tell you. (1) The extraordinary measure of impeachment is now used as an amputation technique to interrupt and short-circuit the franchise. To reverse the vote. To remove the victorious, the duly elected, the winner. To ablate the victor. To dissect the quiddity of the representative process. Ask Jimmy Madison or Tommy Boy Jefferson what they’d think about using the emergency brake of impeachment to right election misdirection and they would most probably swear you were joking. (2) #FakeNewsers think you’re stupid. That you’re incurious, uneducated. Prove them wrong. (3) Refer to Nos. 1 and 2 supra.

The Deep State [DS] is real and here and deadly and must be stopped at all cost. There are slews of attempted definitions as to [DS] but let’s see if we can narrow it down. [DS] is a for the most part a clandestine, occult and quasi-secret network and labyrinth of especially and essentially nonelected government and tangentially governmental officials and private entities operating extralegally and without the conventional bounds of government to influence and enact government policy. As David Rockefeller famously intoned, “The supranational sovereignty of an intellectual elite and world bankers is surely preferable to the national auto-determination practiced in past centuries.” This is not some tinfoil hat conspiracy theory, Sparky. This is as serious and as real as it gets. Besides, we haven’t worn tinfoil in years; it’s aluminum.

I’m not a conservative, a Republican, a right-winger. I’m just right. This has nothing to do with Trump. But it has everything to do with a man who dared to challenge the status quo, dared to push [DS] special interests aside and dare to do it his way. Shattering Biden’s prototypical nepotism scam into smithereens. And remember, if there’s one thing that [DS] colluders and miscreants hold inviolate, sacred and sacrosanct it’s the colossal scams and networks and warrens of corruption that nepotism circuits represent. How? When Nancy Pelosi is reported to be worth a Gazillion smackers, how does she explicate such? By claiming it’s her husband who’s the business genius. Right. When Maxine Waters, who — by all metrics and medical science variables is a bona fide cretin and a submental, subliterate, daft blowtop — is a millionairess, is asked to explain her riches . . . well, come to think of it, she never is. Look at how her family benefits mightily. Go ahead, we’ll wait.

Will Trump be impeached? Yep. Without a doubt. But not removed. How do I know? It’s all they have and all they’ve got and nothing will get in their way. That simple. That basic.

How do you spell pathetic? As of today, there are 397 days left until #Election2020. Think about that for a minute. Barely over a year and the Dems have yet to craft a coherent policy save for the surgical extraction of a duly-elected POTUS, their opponent. The message is occluded, muddled, distorted and distracted. Irresolute, dissolute and of disrepute to boot. Incoherent, logolalic, logorrhea-laden. The bases of the blateroons. Energumens fixated on impeachment. Determined to concoct and construct wild yarns of enlisting Ukrainian prosecutors to investigate . . . wait for it . . . crimes committed in Ukraine! Imagine that. The diabolical genius of Trump attempting to enlist the help of a country in seeing that it investigate and prosecute if need be its victimization. You can’t make this up.

“How dare you!” The Greta Hall of Fame just inducted its newest and latest member. Move over Mses. Garbo, Van Susteren and Waitz (all right, Grete, close enough). Meet America’s and the world’s cosmic climate sweetheart, the incomprehensibly frightening Greta Thunberg, the 16 year-old, pigtailed and braided latter-day atavistic incarnation of Frau Blücher. She actually makes David Hogg look like George Gobel. If you missed her staged, canned, over-rehearsed, eating-the-scenery over-the-top schlock screech speech at yesterday’s UN climate whatever, you missed one for the ages. Spooky. Seriously. Histrionics for the books. Classic. Sad. Pathetic.
 
Like watching accident dashcam videos. Ah, our Miss Greta. She stole the show, perhaps as the beneficiary of the most fleeting of moments of ignominy couched as righteous indignation and horror. With screams from the crowd of “Where are her parents?” this vacant-eyed Climategate human shield central casting global warming clone and Soros-sponsored crisis actress captured the imagination of many the Kubrick fan as we thought how she’d be perfect perhaps singlehandedly supplanting the twins in The Shining all by her lonesome. Look, I’m no shrink but I know troubled when I see it. After all, I’ve been to talk radio conventions.
 
Somebody help this girl! There’s not a human being with a soul, sentience and a pair of working neurons who watched her and didn’t wax aghast over how this kid was paraded up to the front of the room where she took it from the top and read her carefully prepared jeremiad, her plaint, her indictment against the world. Trembling, lachrymating, spitting each element of the gravamen, the bill of particulars of the bereft. Triggered. Move over SJW fave Jessica Starr, you’ve been outgunned and outmatched. It’s horrifying no matter how many times I see it. And yet I admittedly find myself watching it and her repeatedly even though it’s irritating. Troubling. But, dammit! so entertaining. And addictive. What is it about this moment that is so compelling? It’s like watching airline meltdowns where emotionally frayed travelers are dragged off flights with passengers applauding their ouster. It’s wrong . . . but so fascinating. Who ever agreed for her to appear? Didn’t they have any focus group review her dress, affect, mannerisms, style? What bonehead thought she was ready for prime time?
 
Greta Thunberg is a shill and will be forgotten by Friday. She’s being used. And you know what happens to anyone used by Dem prog libs and then what happens when they’re used up? When they’ve served their purpose. Remember Cindy Sheehan, the Khans, Omarosa, Avenatti, Dusty Samples (Stormy Daniels to you), Christine Blasey Ford? Again, once spent, POOF! They disappear. See ya. On the ash heap of history. Here’s a copy of the home game. Don’t let the door hit you.
 
“The eyes of all future generations are upon you and if you choose to fail us, I say we will never forgive you.” This used and rehearsed, this prop, this poor Stepford animatronic. Like a rescued cult member staring before the cameras, eyes fixed, affect flat. Timed, rehearsed, blocked, programmed from childhood. This was her moment. Ready for her closeup, Mr. DeMille. One of the most blatant and horrid examples of child abuse seen in modern times. But, remember, the world’s children are expendable. Fodder, merchandise, easily trafficked and merchandised. This child (chronological age is irrelevant) was ready for her Malthus moment. To shudder and shake and cry and carp about how the world would implode, explode and vanish but she never said exactly what needed to be done to fix it. Not one plan, program, idea, vision, platform. Reminds me of the Democratic vision . . . wanting.
 
“How dare you! You have stolen my dreams and my childhood with your empty words.” I heard that very phrase repeatedly howled from Hillary supporters the night she skipped on Javits and ordered Creepy JoPo give the sayonara speech. But I digress.
 
“You say you hear us and that you understand the urgency, but no matter how sad and angry I am I do not want to believe that because if you really understood the situation and still kept on failing to act, then you would be evil, and that I refuse to believe.” Wow. I screamed the same thing when they canceled The Ropers. I’m with ya, kid. Been there. But, at the risk of sounding redundant, when we yelled and protested even at your tender age we had a suggestion. You know, end the war by leaving the war. How exactly do we fix change as in climate? Notice how they’ve lost the notion of global warming. That baby was going nowhere; perhaps someone researched Hypsithermals and Holocene maxima.
 
“You are failing us but young people are starting to understand your betrayal.” Counterfeit. Fugazy. Inauthentic. Unauthentic. Not real. Staged. A poseur. Some climate parvenu. A weather snake oil dilettante. An exceedingly scary and shockingly vacuous young lady, put up and propped up by climate hucksters pushing and pulling for the ultimate brass ring, the big enchilada — carbon taxing. That’s what everything’s about. It’s about cap and trade, track and tax, carbon exchanges and carbon taxing. The illusive and mythical and magical and phantasmagoric carbon footprint. It’s a part of our world now. Antifa thugs, global protesters leaving parade routes with garbage strewn. Incomprehensible logolalic platitudes. Alas.
 
“It doesn’t matter what is true, it only matters what people believe is true.” Thus spake Paul Watson of Greenpeace fame and how true it is today. But as for our Greta, we’ll never forget her moment. Forever forged and emblazoned on our collective conscious. Poor Kate McKinnon. She must be watching and thinking “I could play Greta perfectly!” But that’s a no-no. She’d lose your Liberoid membership card and that would be the end.
 
Onward, patriots!

Free speech is the cornerstone of civilization.I’m as ardent as anyone can be in preserving and maintaining an absolutely unfettered freedom of the press, expression and thought. Free from government licensure, regulation, restriction and the prohibition and proscription in its exercise. The First Amendment stands for such; why do you think it’s the first? And with the Internet and social media under attack from within, primarily internecine platform censor grabs, I’m even more acutely aware of the necessity of unlimited speech and expression and thought. I want to hear and read and see everything that I care to and look away or turn off that which I’m not interested in experiencing. That simple. But it’s my choice.

This topic means a lot to me professionally.I remember being in the front lines of terrestrial talk radio when it meant something and when it was edgy and dangerous and relevant. Yes, I was there. Front and center when talk was illustrious and luxurious and fin and just great. When a nascent Rush Limbaugh could be Rush Limbaugh. When he and it mattered. And what fueled such was freedom to speak and freedom to offend. I remember when we were faced with the horrors of a revamped Fairness Doctrine which was anything but fair. Why? To counter Rush and his spate of Rush wannabes that he inspired and hatched. Everything was conservative talk, so much so it made me sick. But it was fresh and fun. Liberal and progressive talk was left to the mealy-mouthed dorks and drops of NPR, who are still there by the by. But the blowback was a sign we were important and that it mattered. Remember, you only take flak when you’re over the target. I remember when there was something called shock jocks, when there was actually something shocking about what they said and not rekindled and warmed-over drivel and drool from coprolalic children spewing and spitting bile and filth. They actually shocked. Today, well, it’s a bunch of programming retreads and hangers-on who still think it’s 1983. Alas, but I digress. Ahem.

Dead serious here, Sparky!This is not just no a series of shite observations here, this is fact. And reality. I mean this. Free speech cannot be abridged but with free speech comes responsibility and liability. And there’s plenty of the latter to apportion to the humanoid pustules of the NYT. So it’s with great sadness that I hereby recommend that the New York Times be ordered shuttered, shut down, shut up, padlocked and condemned by government fiat, imprimatur, order and action once and for all.

I’M KIDDING! (For the most part.)

Journalistic malpractice.But what these dastards and bastards have done to Justice Kavanaugh is simply without peer, shame and incomprehensibly unconscionable. How the once mighty Gray Lady fell and stooped to this I’ll never know. Perhaps the writing was on the wall when they hired that ferret Dean Baquet, who if I don’t know better was sent in clandestinely to destroy the paper by abandoning the rudiments and undergirding of plain old journalism. That’s right, journalism! Look, have whatever opinion you want. No sweat. Wax socialistic, anachronistic, solipsist, Zoroastrian, Communist, proto-fascist, neoliberal . . . it doesn’t matter. That’s your right. That’s called an editorial. Have at it. Knock your socks off. But when you report it as news — incontrovertible, verified, actual, true and verified news — that’s something quite different. My fellow patriot, what we’re seeing here with the treatment leveled against Kavanaugh is mind-boggling. Even to me. Let me provide the following gravamen, if I may.

The rendition will slay you. Now the story goes something like this. But first, let’s pick up from the Times’s retraction or explanation or clarification or whatever the hell you want to call this. My guess, preemptive girding in preparation of certain litigation from Justice Kavanaugh.

Editors’ Note:Sept. 15, 2019

An earlier version of this article, which was adapted from a forthcoming book, did not include one element of the book’s account regarding an assertion by a Yale classmate that friends of Brett Kavanaugh pushed his penis into the hand of a female studentat a drunken dorm party. The book reports that the female student declined to be interviewed and friends say that she does not recall the incident. That information has been added to the article.”[ES]

WARNING: The following is NSFW.Let me warn you. This is not for the mild-mannered or faint of heart. I must address penis protocol and the facts of Kavanaugh’s latest imaginary indiscretion from the past that no one can remember but only thinks they heard someone mention that they heard someone remember they heard. This involves frank discussion. Or something. (And yes, I see the frank pun that’s beckoning.)

 The facts, ma’am. Just the facts. Please, and let me again apologize, am I to believe that BK was standing about a college party, sufficiently gooned and waxed out of his gourd, whilst his schmeckle was airing out and along came friends (plural) who took control of said schwantz via manucaption of some sort and pushed said appendage into the hand of an unsuspecting coed party attendee who happened to be standing about? Now please, go through this scenario in your mind. I dare you to try and reenact it. Does this even make sense to you? Is this even remotely possible? Forget the journalistic horrors evinced by the NYT, how am I supposed to believe this even happened? Oh, wait. I forgot. It’s the Times.

Let me see if I’ve got this straight.Don’t you think whilst at the party even a tipsy Kavanaugh would have noticed (1) his member was exposed — tumescent, turgid, flaccid we don’t have the foggiest, (2) friends (again plural) were fidgeting with his googootz and (3) said friends were “pushing” it into the mitt of some hapless lass? And, what, he just stood there all the while watching and the victim recipient of his accoutrement doesn’t remember the commotion and positioning and pushing and . . . well, see what I mean?

Valedictory. Sorry, but there’s a word for what this is: BULLSHIT. New York Times, I curse you, your editorial staff, your very essence. Carlos Slim, dump this rag. Sell it for scrap. They’ve earned unfathomable contempt from all.