Ron’s weekly rant.

Damn the global warming! Froze my fingers off walkin with Monsterdawg this morning. And yes, I had fur-lined gloves on, and a sweatshirt over a heavy T, and a Navy foul-weather jacket . . . and a hat.

Wuz gonna bundle up the branches and rake those big ol’ leaves from the tulip tree I dismantled yesterday, but if it don’t warm up considerable, I’m gonna stay inna house and put stuff in my belly that I really don’t need.

Well, what can you do . . . Mother Nature, right? Brings me to a consideration my mind worked on while walkin around in the cold wind: The best-laid plans often come back bearing payment-due vouchers, quit-claims, and eviction notices.

The PC Nazis and Social Justice Crusaders, in league with socialists and communists and anarchists, are winning. Paul Harvey very prophetically spelled out the game plan for them half a century ago, and they’ve followed it perfectly.

Virtually everything he mentioned way back even before Viet Nam got going good has become reality, almost as if he’d had a smartfone which could tune into 2020 news reports with 20/20 vision.

We’ve all seen the liberals chipping away at the cornerstones of the Constitution, judges legislating from the bench, news organizations promoting global agendas and selecting or revising or creating news stories to support them.

Christmas is so commercialized and ostentatious that someone from Dickens’s time wouldn’t recognize it in most cities. Church congregations are dwindling, and it won’t be long until we follow Europe’s lead and convert cathedrals to mosques.

Our military has been so neglected and gutted by liberals that many of our potential enemies have weapons on a technological level equal with our own, and their planes, tanks, and ships usually work while we can’t get parts for ours.

This morning I read a breakdown of a survey assessing the levels of patriotism and historical knowledge of young Americans. Here’s one excerpt from it (which Mark Levin highlighted on his show):

Forty-six percent of young Americans, defined as ages 14-37, disagreed with the statement, “America is the greatest country in the world.” In addition, 53% of the same age group said they believe the United States is a sexist country, and 54% believe it is a racist country.

[ . . . ]

Nick Adams [founder of the organization conducting the study] said he was “totally unprepared” for the “epidemic of anti-Americanism” the survey revealed.

“That half of millennials and Gen Z believe that the country in which they live is both ‘racist’ and ‘sexist’ shows that we have a major fraction of an entire generation that has been indoctrinated by teachers starting in grade school that America is what’s wrong with the world,” Adams said.

When asked who had a bigger impact on the country, more than half of 18 – 21 year-olds chose Barack Obama over George Washington. And on which is better for the country’s future, socialism or capitalism, half chose socialism.

You can draw your own conclusions from that; I won’t bore you with mine. But here’s one more off-the-wall way all that indoctrination, brainwashing, and propaganda is coming back to bite us in the butt:

The vaunted “Me-Too” movement, which insisted that white men are the source of all problems in the US, has shot itself in the foot. Wall Street movers and shakers, as an example, are minimizing or avoiding contact with women in their organizations and their offices for fear of unfounded but devastating accusations down the line.

Males are avoiding all one-on-one meetings with females. No more having dinner with female colleagues. No more joint travel arrangements. No near proximity in hotel room assignments. Guys have been forced into speaking as little as possible to gals in offices and workplaces; speaking candidly and frankly is considered perilous.

What the Me-Too agenda has produced, just like what Obama’s racial-healing policies wrought, is the opposite of what they wanted: gender segregation, a cover-your-ass mentality, and a return to a boys’-club atmosphere rather than opening the equality doors for women.

The new rule of thumb is never to have dinner with any woman under 40 who is not your wife or sister, never share an elevator with a female, and by no means ever meet with female employees in rooms without windows and open doors.

This results in male bonding instead of inter-gender idea sharing over drinks after work, sharing a cab, or having a cup of coffee in the employees’ lounge when women are there.

At the same time the gap is widening over gender-related conversation in the workplace, young males have begun to abandon physical or masculine values of previous generations and morphing into metrosexuals.

Instead of competitiveness and self-dependency and laissez-faire approaches to life and work and man-woman relationships, men are more interested in ‘emotional strength,’ selflessness, and compromise.

It’s as Khrushchev said, socialism will wind up burying the capitalist paradigm, like winning a revolution without firing a single bullet by working on the minds of the young.

And as Gloria Steinem said about male-female relationships, “We are becoming the men we once wanted to marry.”

Saw this on Insty.

Help, I Can’t Stop Hooking Up With Trump Supporters

When someone asks about my worst hookup, I have plenty of options to choose from, but I inevitably end up telling the same story. It’s the one where I started arguing with a Trump supporter at a bar and then before I knew it, I was waking up the next morning in his bedroom. There were flags everywhere: Ronald Reagan’s face was emblazoned on one of them, “Don’t Tread On Me” made an appearance on another. I say it was the “worst” not because the sex was bad, but because, well, see above.

This was in early 2016 and—while it doesn’t excuse my choice of partner—it was before Pussygate, before the suggestion of violence against his opponents,, and before the realities of a Trump presidency really set in. So while I found a lot of his comments abhorrent, hooking up with one of his supporters wasn’t quite the moral conundrum to me that it would become a few months later.

To my own surprise, we kept hooking up and—despite the fact that our political opinions were diametrically opposed—it didn’t feel weird. When we texted, we’d naturally argue about politics, but also about other things, like if corn or flour tortillas made for the best tacos, or whether Drake or Kendrick Lamar was the better rapper (I said Kendrick, of course). When we met up in person, that pent-up anger would turn into frustration, which would turn into a sort of competitive tension that resulted, inevitably, in sex.

This is one really messed up woman.

I knew we’d never be anything more to each other than a hookup, but I didn’t care. The sex was hot, and it was uncomplicated in the sense that neither of us expected—or even really wanted—any strings attached. And since I was confident in my political convictions, all that witty banter about tax codes, emails, and border walls was the foreplay I never knew I needed.

I assumed it was a onetime experiment, but shortly after we ended things I started sleeping with yet another Trumpster who I was inexplicably attracted to. This, I’m sorry to say, was after Trump had secured the nomination, but in my defense I was still pretty certain we were going to elect Hillary Clinton, so I could ignore the fact that this guy’s family wore MAGA hats. Harder to ignore was his conviction that if Clinton won, we would automatically go to war—with which country, he couldn’t say, but he was certain that a woman president would lead to war because…emotions, maybe? I have no idea. He was ill-informed, sexist, and loved to start arguments with me.

But once again the thrill of the election and the friction of our differences made the passion so much more palpable in bed. So I pushed aside his ingrained bigotry and instead let it wash over me, filling me with a desire to prove him wrong—or maybe to just be on top of him.

Maybe it’s because Trump supporters are real men instead of the pussyhat wearing soy boys that supported Crooked Cankles.

As much as I don’t like the idea of sleeping with people whose values are clearly the opposite of my own, I can’t seem to stop, especially since the election. I’m an extremely competitive person and knowing that the guy I’m with is on the “winning” team (even though I’m still correct) just forces that competitiveness into overdrive. Even when my annoyance with Trump and his supporters turns into depression, anxiety, and frustration, I still get an odd sense of vindication after sleeping with one of them.

And it’s by no means just a way to feed into that whole “What if I can change him?” cliché. I don’t need any of these Trumpsters to actually like me. It’s merely because I’ve discovered that crazy political tension also makes for great sexual tension.

And maybe you’re just a slut.

Plus, in an odd way, sleeping with Trump supporters reaffirms my own political and personal values. I don’t think I could ever have a serious relationship with a one—I can’t be with someone who won’t understand why the news sometimes causes me to burst into tears, or why I want to throw my phone across the room after reading the President’s latest tweet. For me, differing political ideologies are a deal breaker. But that only makes me more OK with accepting these flings for what they are: Opportunities for excellent hate-sex. And to be able to walk away unbothered, unburdened, and sexually satisfied makes me feel powerful at a time when many people with my liberal leanings have never felt less in control.

Yep. You’re just a slut.

Can you imagine any sane woman writing sumpin’ like this? Liberalism really is a mental disease.

Joel sent me this heartwarming story.

A letter to the wife:
———————

I am sorry for the way I acted earlier today and getting into
an argument when you asked me to put up the outside Christmas Lights.

I was wrong and was being stubborn and hard-headed when you
ask me to do such a simple thing to make our house more festive
for the holiday season.

Sometimes I get overwhelmed with frustration when it comes
to doing things around the home.

I have made an honest effort to get the lights up to brighten
our home and please you and our neighbours.

Now that the lights are up and working, I am going to the pub
to have a pint or two with my buddies and unwind and de-stress. (more…)

From Ron.

Before Quiet Riot there was Slade. Saw these guys in concert back in the 70’s. Their lead guitarist was wearing a huge pair of platform shoes.

The Courante from Bach’s Cello Suite #4.

From Ron in Ohio. (more…)