Featured Post

The Democrats Resurrect Stalin and Beria

Sitting in my hotel room in Manhattan while the Diplowife and the Diplodaughter spend what's left in my bank account, I was reading a gr...

Tuesday, November 21, 2017

Feathers: My Usual Thanksgiving Repost on a Repast from the Past

Feathers 

Yes, feathers. Not the figurative kind that fill leftoid heads, but the real kind that cover birds. We are going light today. Our topic is feathers and how they nearly produced a civil war in the Diplomad clan, and how echoes of that strife apparently will reverberate on the 4th of July.

As the six regular readers of this blog are painfully aware, during the Reagan years I served for a time at the UN in New York. We loved New York City, even with all its inconveniences especially with two rambunctious boys. Schooling was a problem as the local PS was, well, pretty bad. When two of the vastly overpaid teachers at the school told us that they would never send their own kids there, we decided to yank our boys out and send them--at considerable cost to the Diplomad bottom line--to private schools. One went to a school run by Irish Catholic nuns, who wanted no parental involvement, "Thank you very much, but we know how to do this." The older son went to one run by strangely liberal, yet oddly conservative Jews who wanted lots of parental involvement in the school as long as the parents did what the school wanted. Hey, it's New York. Live with it.

Well, as it does every year, the Thanksgiving holiday rolled around. You must understand we had spent most of our lives overseas. The boys had been born in Spain, and hardly had been in the US. Educated abroad, they--God help me--had grown to love soccer football soccer with both of them becoming (and remaining to this day) rabid fans of Spain's La Furia Roja. Their grip on Americana was a bit weak. Please remember that as this saga proceeds.

Another piece of background you will need. My Spanish wife hates, detests, abhors, loathes, etc, feathers and any creature sporting them. She shows a special wrath for chickens, turkeys, ducks, and geese. She cannot stand the thought of fowl on the meal plate. I have seen her blanche and break out into a cold sweat at fancy diplo dinners when served quail, duck or some other feather-bearing beast. It is not funny; better said, she has no sense of humor about this matter. My efforts to convince her that chicken tastes just like iguana have had no positive effect. Whenever we go to a restaurant, regardless of what she orders, she insists on, ahem, grilling the waiter on whether any foul fowl was involved in the making of her pending meal, "Uh, no ma'am, our salmon is, uh, salmon. It's a fish, not a bird." "Yes, yes, but the rice and the vegetables, were they cooked with chicken?" I am used to it by now.

Thanksgiving Day in New York, 1985. My older son, then about six was in a bad mood. I asked what was wrong, "You have no school today. Mom is making a nice Thanksgiving meal. What's wrong?" He glared at me, "The Pilgrims did not eat paella! They ate turkey!"

Explanation. Given the Diplowife's aversion to feathery creatures, our overseas Thanksgiving Day meals consisted of seafood paella. My wife had, ahem, implied in some way . . . oh, heck, she flat out told the kids that the Pilgrims ate paella with the Indians. Maybe she was thinking about Cortez and Pizarro, I don't know, but anyhow the kids had gotten into their heads that paella was the meal on Thanksgiving. Now in NY, the older boy had been asked the previous day to make a presentation at school on Thanksgiving. He, of course, reported that the English Pilgrims sat down and shared paella with the Native Americans. This caused a bit of a commotion and, I guess, led to some considerable ridicule, or what the politically correct nanny-staters now would label "bullying."

He was furious with us. He refused to eat paella and demanded a turkey. Even my wife was shocked into submission by the uncompromising fury coming from the tyke. It was Thanksgiving Day. I had to find a turkey in Manhattan! I dashed out of our building on the upper east side. All of the supermarkets were closed. A turkey! My kingdom for a turkey! I wandered the cold, darkling desolate concrete canyons, my despair growing and threatening to overwhelm me. I had let down my kids! The wages of sin, the consequences of falsehoods! God give me a sign that You will allow me to redeem myself . . . Wait! A deli! Still open but about to close! I ran in! Turkey sandwiches! They must have a turkey somewhere! A bizarre negotiation followed in which I finally convinced the suspicious Pakistani owner of the "Jewish" deli to sell me a whole kosher turkey at the price per pound of the sliced sandwich meat. I paid him a fortune--in cash--for a small bird about the size of a Chihuahua, and ran like the Grinch with my turkey under my arm.

My kids had turkey that day, and every other Thanksgiving since then has featured a big bird on the table. My wife refuses to sit anywhere near it, and has her own separate fish-based meal.

This will be an issue on the Fourth of July. The Thanksgiving paella got moved to Independence Day. The kids, now grown, of course, alas, are starting to make noises of impending rebellion against paella and in favor of hot dogs and other beast meat. The Diplowife mistrusts hotdogs, even the kosher all-beef ones, as stealth chicken missiles. She does not want anything with the potential of bearing fowl touching our BBQ grill or being anywhere near anything else that might be cooking. It appears that we might have a split Fourth meal. One side of the family eating chicken wings and hotdogs, and the other with the paella. Now that I think about it, this seems an appropriate metaphor for what is happening to our country.

Friday, November 17, 2017

Moore's the Pity?

Just a quick note as I am still unpacking, and a variety of techs and movers and delivery people are crawling all over the house. The Diplowife happier than a pig in mud, with her directing, supervising, giving orders . . . I get tired watching her.

Have been following only from a distance the Roy Moore senatorial election saga.

I don't know Moore; know very little about him; have no idea if he would be a good or bad senator from the Great State of Alabama. I, however, find disgusting this progressive/DNC tactic of launching swarm attacks alleging sexual improprieties of some 30-40 years ago. Frankly, when you have time to examine any particular one of the allegations, it almost invariably comes up short in the credibility department. There always seems to be some fatal flaw in the account that discredits it.

The progs, however, don't care. It's akin to the old Soviet WWII tactic of dealing with minefields: you just keep running through them. Individual soldiers get killed but the overall attack continues. You see, for example, how the press reports on the allegations, e.g., "dozens of women have come forth." The fact that individual stories seem to get blown up by the minefield of truth, does not stop the wave. The onslaught continues.

This weaponization of everything is going to tear us apart as a nation.

I hope Moore wins.

Wednesday, November 15, 2017

Gone South

Sorry for the long break in blogging. We have made the move, internet is on, and I am loving North Carolina. Hope to start blogging ASAP, once all these pesky boxes disappear.

I have to say that throughout my long career in the Foreign Service and the many, many moves,  I proved either the luckiest or unluckiest FSO. My stuff always arrived. Through pirate infested seas, bandit clogged ports and highways, hurricanes, etc., my stuff always showed up. I couldn't get rid of it! That streak continues. . . . sigh.

Friday, November 3, 2017

Clintons, Again

Surpassed in the past perhaps only by the Kennedy clan, the Clintons just can't seem to stop generating attention. The very latest piece of publicity comes from former Clinton toadie Donna Brazile--the very one who helped slip the questions to Clinton before her debate with Sanders. This former DNC acting Chairman, and lifelong political hack of the rankest kind (remember her attacks on Barbara Bush?) has suddenly got religion and has lobbed the "bombshell" revelation that Hillary Clinton (shocked face!) is a duplicitous, conniving, crooked politico with no ethical standards. Wow! Who'd a thunk that? And, and (breathless!) she used her vast monetary reserves to take over the essentially bankrupt DNC (Thanks Obama!) and tried to rig the primaries against the dopey Bernie Sanders. Wow! Why has nobody ever said this before? What else Donna, what else? Tells us what else you have discovered? Japan attacked Pearl Harbor? Harvey Weinstein is a sexual predator?

The only interesting thing about the Brazile "revelations" is that even some of the closet collaborators of the Clinton Crime Family seem to be placing some distance between them and the CCF. Maybe we are seeing the end of the CCF? Dare we hope? We even see the hopeless Elizabeth Warren acknowledge, after months of denying it, that the Democratic primaries were rigged against Sanders. We see some of her closest confidants acknowledge, ah, gosh, yes, the Hillary camp paid for the phony Russia/Steele dossier on Trump which has led to the absurd collusion investigation now consuming millions of dollars. This, of course, after a year of Hillary's denying any involvement in the dossier. Hillary, herself, now no longer denies it, trying to justify as standard "oppo research" the payment of millions to foreigners, including former and active Russian government officials, to gin up the salacious dossier.

I will write more about this later, but for now let's just note that perhaps the greatest feature of the long history of Clinton corruption is how open it is; unlike what one would think a crook would do, secrecy is not at the core of their operations. The Clintons involve dozens, perhaps hundreds of people in their corrupt schemes, and make those schemes so massive and so wide-spread that it is hard to understand, analyze, and bring down. We are left like a blind man trying to describe a sunset. Whitewater. Travelgate. Clinton Global Initiative. Clinton Foundation. Lavishly reimbursed speaking tours. Uranium One. Pay for Play. Buying a political party. Private email server. And on, and on. It is rather breathtaking.

Al Capone could have learned a lot from the Clintons.

Meanwhile, Donna Brazile continues on her atonement circuit. Like the Weinstein denouncers, just a bit too late.

Tuesday, October 31, 2017

New York, Again

Eight dead, over a dozen injured in New York City.

It seems that a man from "Tampa" engaged in a wild shooting spree driving a rental truck into a crowd while shouting something that might have been interpreted as "God is Great!" or perhaps he was screaming the name of actor "Alan Arkin!" as have many other individuals over the past several years whilst murdering thousands of people.

There. Have I got the official narrative right? I don't want to offend anybody or put any group into a defensive posture . . .

Let me ask a couple or so questions, however, while we search for the motive and debate whether he was or was not a "lone wolf": What was he doing in the USA? Why was he here? Why do we let these "folks" into our country?

Won't make any difference if we build a wall if we let them in via JFK. I think we have plenty of kooks and killers produced at home without having to import more . . . I don't want to seem isolationist or protectionist, but . . .

Time to get serious . . . unless that offends, of course . . . if it does, well, we can always break out the Teddy bears, flowers, and candles, and darken a couple of buildings for a day or two . . . that might do it.

Friday, October 27, 2017

Collusion Collision

OK. Just a quick one as I enter the final days of the GREAT MOVE.

The Russian collusion story has gotten so weird nobody could have predicted it . . . well, except for this blog and about tens of millions of other persons.

Anyhow, as regular readers know, I have written a great deal about the Russia story and the allegations that Trump and his campaign were in bed with Moscow, and that Putin was willing to go for broke (almost) to ensure that Trump, instead of that really, really scary Hillary Clinton, won the November 2016 presidential election. I never bought it, simply because it made no sense.

Last March I wrote a piece which basically called the true narrative of the Trump-Putin collusion story,
As part of the Democrats' desperation move to delegitimize and perhaps even abort the Trump presidency, the obedient and well-trained progressive national media took up the theme of Russian hacking of our election and of Russian intel efforts on behalf of Trump's candidacy. Please see the many pieces I have posted on this if you want more details . . . . 
The Democrats, trying to avoid discussing that their terrible candidate used an illegal private server for classified work while she served as SecState, and to distract from the steady and corrosive drip-drip of information coming out of Wikileaks re a range of Democratic shenanigans, hit on the story of the Trump campaign being in bed with Putin and his agents. A series of "bombshell" "leaks" from what was claimed were intel sources alleged that the Russians were working to get Trump elected and that the Trump campaign not only knew this but was collaborating with Moscow <...>

The Dems claim that Trump is in bed with the Russians; Trump denies it and countercharges that the Dems had him under surveillance. We have here a problem. If the Dems have official intel on Trump's connections with Russia, how did they get it? Presumably from the official intel services which then it would appear were monitoring Russian contacts with Trump's people. If there was no surveillance order given to US intel, from where did the intel on Russian contacts come? The British is apparently the Trump answer. I have a more plausible one. I think there was surveillance of Russian activity, probably by the NSA, and it found nothing to show that Trump had contacts with the Russians; the Obamistas and the Clintonistas then made up the accounts of Russian interference. In other words, they lied. That's the most charitable explanation I can develop. There, of course, are harsher ones which I hope are not accurate, ones that would show, once again, Obama's misuse of the nation's intel and enforcement capabilities.
When all the spinning, talking points, and bad/fake news reporting ends, one is left with the irrefutable fact that the Democrats lied about Trump's links to Russia. They lied BECAUSE, in fact, they were the ones in cahoots with the Russians. Bill and Hillary aided Vlad's effort to corner the world's uranium market in exchange for, (drumroll, shocked face) money! Lots of it. Some (around $145 million or so) funneled to the odious criminal organization known as the Clinton Foundation, and other large amounts handed directly to Bill as "speaking fees."

The Clintons and Obama were dead certain Hillary would win the election, and all this grotesque corruption and selling out of the nation's interests would be buried and ignored. Hillary's campaign and the Democratic Party leadership paid millions to a shady outfit (Fusion GPS) to develop a narrative about Trump being the Ruskies' Pet Poodle. In violation of US election laws, the Dems paid millions to foreigners, including Russians, to cook up the salacious but very fake "dossier" on Trump and help ensure the election would go Hillary's way.

It's all coming apart now, a massive train wreck.

Popcorn has never tasted so good . . .

Saturday, October 21, 2017

Progsanity

Let me just assure one and all  one that the move out of the formerly magnificent state of California continues apace. No turning back.  Purchased airline tickets, have a date for two of the cars to ship, and movers on the hook. We are heading east and down!

There is so much weirdness going on it's hard to pick starting and ending points. I see that some whacky Congresswoman from Florida, who dresses up like Howdy-Doody for some reason, has gotten all patriotic and is blasting President Trump for being insensitive in his call to the widow of a slain SF soldier, one who died on an operation in Niger. In the course of his condolence call, he apparently used a phrase something like, "He knew what he signed up for." This phrase has been jumped upon by the Honorable Ms Howdy Doody and the prog media as some sort of insult or insensitivity. It, of course, is a fairly standard phrase when discussing the deaths of heroes, to wit, people who knew the danger but went ahead and did their duty, regardless. The whole thing is obscene., and shows that nothing is off limits for the Progs. I can't stand when Progs play patriot. The fake just stinks way too much.

Speaking of fake Prog patriotic outrage, I am not hearing much of this Russia craze as the story slowly oozes out about the Clintons' own very strong Russia connection, i.e., the worst kept secret in the world. The Russians, it seems, poured some $146 million into the Clinton Foundation, and paid Bill some $500,000 in speaker fees, precisely at the time that a Russian owned subsidiary was negotiating a massive uranium deal and seeking SecState approval for it--uh, guess who was SecState . . . So the Russians had the anti-fracking, anti-military Clintons on their payroll but were working to get pro-fracking, pro-military Trump elected? Hmmmm . . . .

New word, progsanity: willful political, historical, and social amnesia commonly found among progressives when convenient to advance a radical agenda; the rewriting of history, including recent developments and the refutation of logic and its substitution by loud screaming, sneering, and violence, all justified by "the cause," to wit, the destruction of Western values, norms, and civilization.

Back to loading my cars . . .