Monthly Archives: September 2020

The Trump-Biden Debate Bloodbath

President Trump won the debate. This is obvious to all who watched whatever that was. Phrased  differently, are you telling me Biden won? Joe Biden. That doddering coot. The curmudgeon and senescent dotard, hobbled by decrepitude and wizened. Shot up with an Adderall and B-12 cocktail. Straight, no chaser. A man chained to a radiator in a root cellar for months at a time. Yeah, that Joe. Does anyone think he “won,” whatever that means? This poor man with the watery eyes and vacant stare, ready to lapse into fanciful stories about Corn Pop, blond leg hair, mythical pool duty and rusty straight razors. “CornPop was a bad dude and he ran a bunch of bad boys.” A man who misses disease numbers in magnitudes of millions. A scripted man not conversant in any way with the radical alt-left agenda. A chooch who refused to admit he signed on to that looney tunes AOC and her equally moonbatty Green New Deal that no one understands. Joe, who rails against climate change and can’t define it. That Joe, in no wise conversant with Hypsithermals and Holocene maxima, screaming and yelling about weather, which is what climate change is. Weather as in the sun. Joe, still plying the trope that Roe v. Wadehas the slightest chance of reversal after 47 years of unscathed existence. You mean that Joe? You think he won the debate? Come on, man!
 
Hunter Biden. The profligate one. The troubled, the crook, the shill and con. The geezer’s cash cow. You don’t think the dough was going Hunter’s way, do you? You’ve got to be kidding. That’s for Papa Joe. It’s part of the con. It’s like when Bela Pelosi claims her old man’s the genius breadwinner, he’s the cover. The front. Pelousy’s pocketing the cash, Sparky. Nancy is. It’s her con. Her deal. But you knew that.
 
Chris Wallace, agent provocateur. CW, who couldn’t carry his old man’s Jacque, was the worst of the worst. Chris, who said he wanted to be “invisible as possible” was Trump’s second debater. And not a master debater at that. CW violated every rule of honest debate moderating recognized by the free world. Count how many times our dear President Trump was interrupted versus Will Geer. And his emphasis was exquisite. Masks, Proud Boys, white supremacy (whatever the hell that is), climate change (again), COVIDiots and . . . I already forgot. But look what wasn’t covered: crime, bedlam, anarchy, nihilism. BLM and Antifa terror. Law and order. Yep, not a word about that. Not a peep. No, sir. He doesn’t want to incur the wrath of George Soros. After all, who can forget the Norma Desmond frozen, frightful leer of Faux News’s Harris Faulkner when Newt Gingrich deigned to mention the all-high all-holy all-powerful all-evil Soros? What a racket, quoth Smedley Butler.
 
Decorum. I don’t want to hear one more pathetic lament against Trump’s alleged bullying decorum. Did he tell Basement Joe to shut up or call him a racist. Will you shut up, man! That’s your Joe. The same feller who wants to defund or, excuse me, reimagine the police. Whatever that means. A drooling jadrool of the first order. Joey knows that he’s the place setter for that cackling harridan and noted hip-hop RBG/BIG historian Chameleon Harris to take over. The Manchurian Candidate Veep, baby. A woman so bereft of conviction she makes HRC look like Rula Lenska (and no, I have no idea what that means). President Trump showed the world what tough is. It’s the same President Trump you’ve known the entire time of his public existence. This is nothing new. Can you imagine Methuselah sitting across from Putin, Erdoğan or Xi Jinping? How’s that for horrible? The future of the free world hangs perilously while this senex stares off screaming “Who ordered the veal cutlet!” No way.
 
Got a minute? Watch our LiveStream last night immediately following the bloodbath. You’ll love it.

That’s all.

The rudiments and abecedarian fundamentals of hero worship and becoming a truth acolyte. Simple.  This is the LionelNation YouTube Channel. Watch our twice quotidian LiveStream. At 8AM and 8 PM we meet. So join up, join in, sign in and click the alert bell so you’ll be notified of future live streams, new videos and pertinent miscellany. Click here. Subscribe to the channel. Click here.

Whom POTUS Should Pick for SCOTUS

If only they knew what they were talking about. SCOTUS is the least understood governmental/juridical function fervently and vociferously argued and discussed by the least aware contingent of the least focused. As with diets, nutrition, science, politics, American history, Darwinian mechanics, the Bible, religion, particle physics and cosmology — Americans assume an unearned conversance with a subject matter they’ve never studied for a moment. They have a tenuous grasp of what this Constitution thing is and an almost puerile innocence that what isn’t fair is or should be somehow addressed through guarantee or prohibition, whatever fair means. Once the scrums are assigned both sides rail and howl anent RBG without any idea or notion of what she’s about, said, done, written, ruled, name it. But here’s the bottom line.
 
Crying on cue. With the procession of moirologists comes the concept of automourn, a cultural contrived collective hysteria whereby social media participants feign inconsolable grief over any remotely famous celebrity who dies, irrespective of how they die or their age at the time of death. The focus is on how the grieving’s sorrow outweighs others’. How their pain is the greatest. How their referenced and felt anguish outweighs everyone else’s and how they know best the degree of loss that the mourned represents. RBG you can bet is the subject of great lachrymation from a variety of mourners who confuse her with a Kate McKinnon character. You know, that judge lady who wears the lace doily collar. (You know it’s true.) Remember, I was a fan of RBG for many of her decisions. Not all. But that goes for all SCOTUS Justices. With the exception of the great and Brobdingnagian jurist Bushrod Washington.
 
Dragging out the usual tropes. The screaming and yelling and teeth gnashing and the contretemps and petty bickering, especially from the reality-bereft Bela Pelosi who’s quickly competing for the confused crown with the root cellar denizen Biden, handcuffed to a radiator who’s dragged before the masses after being hit with a nice Adderall booster. She’s threatening impeachment again. Nancy, please. We’ve heard it. Not again. The country hasn’t the stomach for it. Have some gourmet ice cream, get a wash and set and call it a day. Deal?

What America needs. I want a Justice who plays by the rules. Who, as is now the oft-cited norm, calls balls and strikes. That’s it. Who rules with a dispassionate and surgical focus on the Constitution. THE Constitution as written, as intended as designed. Not the mystical magical protean ever-evolving, ever-changing, ever-morphing, the perpetually transmogrifying, shapeshifting Constitution. Balderdash! Legislatures may change and reflect mores and attitudes. That’s fine. That’s expected. But the Constitution is another story. Yes, I’m echoing Nino Scalia’s originalism. You betcha, Sparky! It certainly can envisage and address new issues and challenges to conventional thinking but the basic precepts of the Constitution remain intact, based upon the original understanding of our drafters and forebears. That simple. That basic. It’s really not rocket science or political science.

Get used to it. And if it hasn’t hit you yet that everything post-Bork is a dumpster fire, cluster flock you must have been in a coma. All SCOTUS picks will enjoy this horror. (In fact, how Gorsuch slipped through I’ll never know.) And this goes for anyone irrespective of party affiliation. Politics loves blood and pain and destruction and collective agony. Ratings surge. Congressional stars are made. It’s a media bloodbath that will never cease. Never stop. And never change. So when POTUS nominates Amy Coney Barrett, hold on to your hats, buckaroos. It’s going to be bloodier and nastier than anything you’ve ever seen or could imagine.

That’s all.

The rudiments and abecedarian fundamentals of hero worship and becoming a truth acolyte. Simple.  This is the LionelNation YouTube Channel. Watch our twice quotidian LiveStream. At 8AM and 8PM ET we meet. So join up, join in, sign in and click the alert bell so you’ll be notified of future live streams, new videos and pertinent miscellany. Click here. Subscribe to the channel. Click here.