Beware getting what you wish for

Up until November of 2013 the US Senate required 60 votes to confirm Presidential nominations and appointments. Then Senator Harry Reid — a Democrat — decided that was just too much to bear and ended it in favor of a simple majority vote. 

At the time I told anyone who would listen that this was a mistake that the Democrats would rue once they no longer held the Senate. 

Of course, the Democrats lost the Senate — as happens — and the Republicans happily used the simple majority vote to confirm a metric butt-ton of President Trump’s nominations and appointments. 

Over the screaming and pearl-clutching of the Democrats. 

The worm turns, and now the Democrats have decided to nuke the filibuster — which, much like the previous nomination and appointment rule, requires 60 votes to break. They’d like to break a filibuster with a simple majority, or get rid of it all together. 

Allow me to put on my Cassandra hat. Let us cast our thoughts back to September of 1982. In the Senate, an amendment by Senator Jesse Helms is up for vote. This amendment, if passed, would permanently ban all Federal funding for abortions (excepting only if the mother’s life was in danger); it would declare that Roe v. Wade was a mistake; and would provide for direct appeal to the Court if any State should pass pro-abortion legislation. 

It failed due to a filibuster by the Democrats. Understand that at the time, the Republicans had the Senate. 

How would history be different if the filibuster has not existed? 

Does anyone on the Democrat side of the Senate have enough functioning brain cells to understand the implications here? Does anyone on the Democrat side understand that they won’t hold the Senate forever, that the Republicans will take it back, and be able to take a successful shot at Roe v. Wade with 51 votes? 

Given the reaction over the Democrat’s self-inflicted wounds from removing the 60-votes for nomination, I’m guessing not. 

So, I’m going on record as saying, “You don’t want to get rid of the filibuster. If you do, it’s going to bite you on the arse later down the road.” 

Just saying. 


Oh, fer the luvva …

EDIT: I had a post here regarding the Biden video that looks like bad CGI. 

Robb Allen over at Sharp As A Marble  commented on my Facebook and is pretty sure this is actually an artefact involving several issues.

I trust his expertise, and his explanation made sense; so I was incorrect, and I’m editing this one.

Biden is still a houseplant, though.



Well, the time has changed again, and once more I’m mainlining coffee to try to adjust.

With that in mind (and in search of non-offensive blog fodder) I’d like to direct the attention of my Gentle Readers to a little-known law: The Uniform Time Act of 1966 (15 U.S.C. ยงยง 260-64). You can find the text here

 I say “little-known” because it’s fairly obvious that a whole bunch of folks in the Texas Legislature haven’t read it.

As usually happens about twice a year, folks — your Humble Scribe included — get a little cross over the whole hour moving thing, and we’d like to stop that from happening. Which is all well and good, and has my complete approval.

However, the latest effort to end it involves bills allowing the citizens of Texas to decide whether to stay on Daylight Stupid Time year-round, or stay on Standard Time year round. 

Here’s where the very-highly-paid legislators initiated intimate contact with the juvenile canine: Under Federal Law you can’t choose to stay on Daylight Stupid Time.

The State legislatures can choose to switch twice a year; or they can choose to stay on Standard Time. There isn’t a third option.

So, any State Law decreeing a stay on Daylight Stupid Time violates Federal law — specifically the Uniform Time Act of 1966 — and is, thus, a non-starter.

Yes, we need to quit switching back-and-forth, but any bill offering a choice between DST and Standard Time is going to get shut down, because we aren’t going to win that one in the Supreme Court, and we have other, more important, fish waiting to fry in that particular venue.

If you’re in Texas, kindly contact your State legislators, insist that we stop bouncing back and forth on times twice a year; and remind them to read the actual  Federal law controlling said bouncing so we can actually get it changed.

Ta, ever so.


Public Service Announcement

If the dish you are making calls for garlic, but you’re not sure how much you need — the baseline is one clove for each serving, plus one for the pot.

That’s baseline. You may need more if garlic is a featured part of the dish.

We’re not in Britain — think of the children. And if any Gentle Readers happen to be visiting from Jolly Olde England — USE MORE GARLIC.

Brought to you by the Campaign To Make Food Tasty.


History didn’t begin in 1994

I’d like y’all to meet Charles Curtis. Born in the Kansas Territory in 1860, Mr Curtis was an enrolled member of the Kaw Nation, by way of his mother; and his first languages were French and Kansa. 


A gregarious man, Mr Curtis studied law, and then found himself representing the State of Kansas in the United States Senate, until he was tapped to run as Vice President of the United States in 1928, winning quite handily. 

He served as the 31st VPOTUS for one term — his running mate was Herbert Hoover, and that didn’t bode well — and resumed his legal career after leaving politics, until passing away in February of 1936. 

He was the first Native American to serve as Vice President; the first multi-racial person to serve as same, and the last unmarried person to hold that office. 

History, kids. It didn’t start in 1994. 


Aged like fine milk

When George W. Bush became President, he was openly mocked — anyone else remember “Chimpy McBushitler” — brazenly disrespected, and political hacks made millions hoping he would fail.

To the cheers of the Left.

Then Barack Obama was sworn in, and suddenly …

And the Left decided that anyone who treated President Obama the way the Left treated Bush was a traitor, and probably sub-human.

Well, as things do, President Obama left office, and Donald Trump was sworn in. And suddenly “Openly defying … brazenly disrespecting .. hoping that he fails” not only stopped being “treason”, but it took the religious fervor of the Bush years, and turned the knob to 11.



Seasons come and go, and all that, and now a Democrat is back in the Oval Office. And we’re supposed to forget the riots — not to mention the open defiance, brazen disrespect, and hoping for failure — and make nice.

“Come together”, “Unity”, and all that.

I would say that’s rich, coming from people who spent four years of the Trump Presidency, and 8 years of the Bush Presidency, trying to tear things apart, and spitting upon the idea of “unity”, but the Left — like all other fanatical religions — can’t see their own hypocrisy.

Nah, y’all can take your “unity”, fold it until it’s all corners, and shove it up until you gag on it.

Nothing but the back of my hand to you.


Requiscat in pace

FarmDad has taken the journey that calls to all of us sooner or later. 

I met him, as I have met a lot of people, on-line. First through comments here, and then I started noticing him during the infrequent times I would try irc, usually he’d be offering laconic thoughts on Things In General. 

He was one of the folks that ferreted out my email address, and I noticed a sharp mind behind those one-liners.

When Herself and I received an invitation, along with some other folks, to come out to his place for a weekend, we accepted. 

The first morning I walked into the restaurant where everyone was supposed to meet, I was on edge and twitchy. A rangy man in a worn Carhartt jacket stood up, gave me a firm handshake, looked me in the eye, drawled, “I’m Bob. This is my wife, Jeannie. Coffee in the white jugs. Welcome.” He clapped me on the shoulder, and moved off to talk to someone else. And that began a friendship that I have always treasured.

Bob was a product of the rural American West, and when they were polishing him they left some of the bark on.

He was courteous, generous, stubborn, opinionated, and the salt of the earth. If he had a biscuit, and you were hungry, you had a biscuit. If you called Bob because things went rodeo at two in the morning, Bob and Jean would show up in his pickup with tools, and hugs, and a Plan To Put Things Right.

When my heart went squiffy some years back we were in the middle of fixing the porch. I woke up from a doze in the recliner to find Bob looking at me, I blinked, because — quite frankly — he was the last thing I expected to see, and he drawled, “Well, you look like [deleted], but not as bad I as expected. You got bottle jacks and outside power?”

Porch got fixed. And the back deck.

If you were wrong, Bob would tell you so; and if you did right, Bob would let you know.

I miss him already. Terribly.

Vaya con Dios, buddy. We’ll see you on down the road.


John Farnam was right

Respected firearms instructor John Farnam has a couple of quotes that I would like folks to meditate upon.

“Don’t go stupid places. Don’t hang out with stupid people. Don’t do stupid things.”


“Asking for trouble is a pretty good way to get it.”

Matter-of-fact, I would like folks to meditate upon these quotes until about, oh, February. And as far away from Washington DC, and/or any State Capitol as is physically possible.

I understand that folks are irate, but right now … you can’t do any good. There is no way. shape, or fashion — short of Odin showing up to personally smite some dacoits — that you can win. 

You can, on the other paw, do a great deal of bad.

Take the anger that you are feeling right now, and channel it into passion. Constructive passion.  Find a candidate who exemplifies what you want in a representative and start — now — setting the ground for the 2022 mid-term election. And dedicate the next two years to building that candidate’s support.

Stop supporting toxic social media. If you feel that social media is unfairly biased against you — why are you supporting them with your presence? Facebook, and Twitter, honestly don’t give a warm bucket of rat expectorant about you.

They do, however, listen to their pocketbooks. As my friend Jay says, “Money talks, but cash screams.” 

Don’t just stop posting on social media — delete your accounts there. Advertisers will notice. The stock market will notice. And shortly thereafter … the tech oligarchs will notice. Make them whimper.

But don’t go to DC for a kittenish little march. There are ten thousand ways that will go bad, and no way for it to go right. Don’t go picket your State Capitol, because they’re not going to listen.

On Inauguration Day, you don’t need to see the Plagiarist Of The United States take his oath of office. Nielsen ratings are still a thing — turn off your TeeVee that day. Step out on your front porch and flip the bird DC-wise, if you need to, then zorch your Facebook account. Nuke your Twitter account.

If you feel you have to scream your outrage at the whores and catamites in Washington DC, do so from your back porch. You will have exactly the same effect, with little chance of it being used to hurt everyone else.

I’m begging you:  Don’t go to DC or your State Capitol. Those are stupid places. Don’t go there with your new social media friends, because those are stupid people. And don’t protest. They’re looking for a reason, and you protesting is stupidity that you’re handing them on a silver platter.