Black People Are Safer in Chicago Than Florida?

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The author of this American Greatness post makes the point that the NAACP is as shamelessly absurd as it possilby can be when it selects Florida as the place where black people are most at risk in America.

Obviously if you look at Chicago (or Detroit, Baltimore, New York, Atlanta, St Louis or Kansas City) more black people are being murdered, assaulted, raped, robbed or condemned to hopeless poverty than in Florida where law and order and  economic opportunity still exist.  The only thing that’s missing in Florida is the leftist propaganda that blames all of that blue city dysfunction on Republicans and white people.

The NAACP is a racket that blames black misery on everyone but who deserves it; the Democrat Party and the enablers in the black community that benefit from it.

The Borg is Becoming Reality as We Speak

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Neuralink describes their mission thus:

“Creating a general-purpose, high-bandwidth interface to the brain.”

This is the beginning of the cyborg as something other than science fiction.  This is what Zuckerberg pretends he’s doing with that joke Metaverse.  I guess there’s no way to stop this.  But I don’t see it as a harmless thing.  Some good things will come out of it like restoring motion and sight to people who have been injured.  But we’ll see plenty of harmful consequences too.

26MAY2023 – Quote of the Day

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JUST SO STORIES

THE CAT THAT WALKED BY HIMSELF (Part 3)

 

Cat went far and far away and hid himself in the Wet Wild Woods by his wild lone for a long time till the Woman forgot all about him. Only the Bat—the little upside-down—Bat that hung inside the Cave, knew where Cat hid; and every evening Bat would fly to Cat with news of what was happening.

One evening Bat said, ‘There is a Baby in the Cave. He is new and pink and fat and small, and the Woman is very fond of him.’

‘Ah.’ said the Cat. listening, ‘but what is the Baby fond of?’

‘He is fond of things that are soft and tickle,’ said the Bat. ‘He is fond of warm things to hold in his arms when he goes to sleep. He is fond of being played with. He is fond of all those things.’

‘Ah.’ said the Cat, listening, ‘then my time has come.’

Next night Cat walked through the Wet Wild Woods and hid very near the Cave till morning-time, and Man and Dog and Horse went hunting. The Woman was busy cooking that morning, and the Baby cried and interrupted. So she carried him outside the Cave and gave him a handful of pebbles to play with. But still the Baby cried.

Then the Cat put out his paddy paw and patted the Baby on the cheek, and it cooed; and the Cat rubbed against its fat knees and tickled it under its fat chin with his tail. And the Baby laughed and the Woman heard him and smiled.

Then the Bat—the little upside-down Bat—that hung in the mouth of the Cave said, ‘O my Hostess and Wife of my Host and Mother of my Host’s Son, a Wild Thing from the Wild Woods is most beautifully playing with your Baby.’

‘A blessing on that Wild Thing whoever he may be’ said the Woman, straightening her back, ‘for I was a busy woman this morning and he has done me a service.’

The very minute and second, Best Beloved, the dried horse-skin Curtain that was stretched tail-down at the mouth of the Cave fell down—woosh!—because it remembered the bargain she had made with the Cat, and when the Woman went to pick it up—lo and behold!—the Cat was sitting quite comfy inside the Cave.

‘O my Enemy and Wife of my Enemy and Mother of my Enemy,’ said the Cat, ‘it is I: for you have spoken a word in my praise, and now I can sit within the Cave for always and always and always. But still I am the Cat who walks by himself, and all places are alike to me.’

The Woman was very angry, and shut her lips tight and took up her spinning-wheel and began to spin.

But the Baby cried because the Cat had gone away, and the Woman could not hush it, for it struggled and kicked and grew black in the face.

‘O my Enemy and Wife of my Enemy and Mother of my Enemy,’ said the Cat, ‘take a strand of the wire that you are spinning and tie it to your spinning-whorl and drag it along the floor, and I will show you a magic that shall make your Baby laugh as loudly as he is now crying.’

‘I will do so,’ said the Woman, ‘because I am at my wits’ end; but I will not thank you for it.’

She tied the thread to the little clay spindle-whorl and drew it across the floor, and the Cat ran after it and patted it with his paws and rolled head over heels, and tossed it backward over his shoulder and chased it between his hind-legs and pretended to lose it, and pounced down upon it again, till the Baby laughed as loudly as it had been crying, and scrambled after the Cat and frolicked all over the Cave till it grew tired and settled down to sleep with the Cat in its arms.

‘Now,’ said the Cat, ‘I will sing the Baby a song that shall keep him asleep for an hour.’ And he began to purr, loud and low, low and loud, till the Baby fell fast asleep. The Woman smiled as she looked down upon the two of them and said, ‘That was wonderfully done. No question but you are very clever, O Cat.’

That very minute and second, Best Beloved, the smoke of the fire at the back of the Cave came down in clouds from the roof—puff!—because it remembered the bargain she had made with the Cat, and when it had cleared away—lo and behold!—the Cat was sitting quite comfy close to the fire.

‘O my Enemy and Wife of my Enemy and Mother of my Enemy,’ said the Cat, ‘it is I, for you have spoken a second word in my praise, and now I can sit by the warm fire at the back of the Cave for always and always and always. But still I am the Cat who walks by himself, and all places are alike to me.’

Then the Woman was very very angry, and let down her hair and put more wood on the fire and brought out the broad blade-bone of the shoulder of mutton and began to make a Magic that should prevent her from saying a third word in praise of the Cat. It was not a Singing Magic, Best Beloved, it was a Still Magic; and by and by the Cave grew so still that a little wee-wee mouse crept out of a corner and ran across the floor.

‘O my Enemy and Wife of my Enemy and Mother of my Enemy,’ said the Cat, ‘is that little mouse part of your magic?’

‘Ouh! Chee! No indeed!’ said the Woman, and she dropped the blade-bone and jumped upon the footstool in front of the fire and braided up her hair very quick for fear that the mouse should run up it.

‘Ah,’ said the Cat, watching, ‘then the mouse will do me no harm if I eat it?’

‘No,’ said the Woman, braiding up her hair, ‘eat it quickly and I will ever be grateful to you.’

Cat made one jump and caught the little mouse, and the Woman said, ‘A hundred thanks. Even the First Friend is not quick enough to catch little mice as you have done. You must be very wise.’

That very moment and second, O Best Beloved, the Milk-pot that stood by the fire cracked in two pieces—ffft—because it remembered the bargain she had made with the Cat, and when the Woman jumped down from the footstool—lo and behold!—the Cat was lapping up the warm white milk that lay in one of the broken pieces.

‘O my Enemy and Wife of my Enemy and Mother of my Enemy,’ said the Cat, ‘it is I; for you have spoken three words in my praise, and now I can drink the warm white milk three times a day for always and always and always. But still I am the Cat who walks by himself, and all places are alike to me.’

Then the Woman laughed and set the Cat a bowl of the warm white milk and said, ‘O Cat, you are as clever as a man, but remember that your bargain was not made with the Man or the Dog, and I do not know what they will do when they come home.’

‘What is that to me?’ said the Cat. ‘If I have my place in the Cave by the fire and my warm white milk three times a day I do not care what the Man or the Dog can do.’

That evening when the Man and the Dog came into the Cave, the Woman told them all the story of the bargain while the Cat sat by the fire and smiled. Then the Man said, ‘Yes, but he has not made a bargain with me or with all proper Men after me.’ Then he took off his two leather boots and he took up his little stone axe (that makes three) and he fetched a piece of wood and a hatchet (that is five altogether), and he set them out in a row and he said, ‘Now we will make our bargain. If you do not catch mice when you are in the Cave for always and always and always, I will throw these five things at you whenever I see you, and so shall all proper Men do after me.’

‘Ah,’ said the Woman, listening, ‘this is a very clever Cat, but he is not so clever as my Man.’

The Cat counted the five things (and they looked very knobby) and he said, ‘I will catch mice when I am in the Cave for always and always and always; but still I am the Cat who walks by himself, and all places are alike to me.’

‘Not when I am near,’ said the Man. ‘If you had not said that last I would have put all these things away for always and always and always; but I am now going to throw my two boots and my little stone axe (that makes three) at you whenever I meet you. And so shall all proper Men do after me!’

Then the Dog said, ‘Wait a minute. He has not made a bargain with me or with all proper Dogs after me.’ And he showed his teeth and said, ‘If you are not kind to the Baby while I am in the Cave for always and always and always, I will hunt you till I catch you, and when I catch you I will bite you. And so shall all proper Dogs do after me.’

‘Ah,’ said the Woman, listening, ‘this is a very clever Cat, but he is not so clever as the Dog.’

Cat counted the Dog’s teeth (and they looked very pointed) and he said, ‘I will be kind to the Baby while I am in the Cave, as long as he does not pull my tail too hard, for always and always and always. But still I am the Cat that walks by himself, and all places are alike to me.’

‘Not when I am near,’ said the Dog. ‘If you had not said that last I would have shut my mouth for always and always and always; but now I am going to hunt you up a tree whenever I meet you. And so shall all proper Dogs do after me.’

Then the Man threw his two boots and his little stone axe (that makes three) at the Cat, and the Cat ran out of the Cave and the Dog chased him up a tree; and from that day to this, Best Beloved, three proper Men out of five will always throw things at a Cat whenever they meet him, and all proper Dogs will chase him up a tree. But the Cat keeps his side of the bargain too. He will kill mice and he will be kind to Babies when he is in the house, just as long as they do not pull his tail too hard. But when he has done that, and between times, and when the moon gets up and night comes, he is the Cat that walks by himself, and all places are alike to him. Then he goes out to the Wet Wild Woods or up the Wet Wild Trees or on the Wet Wild Roofs, waving his wild tail and walking by his wild lone.

 

Rudyard Kipling

Supreme Court Schools EPA on the Difference Between Navigable Water and Soggy Ground

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The power mad losers at the EPA told a couple in Idaho that they couldn’t build a home on their property because they defined the wet spot on their property as navigable water.  They based this on the fact that the groundwater drains into a nearby lake.  By that theory anyplace it rains is navigable water.

The Supreme Court today looked up navigable in the dictionary and told the EPA to go pound sand.

Apparently they do not subscribe to the Bugs Bunny school of boating where you can row on land.

Thank you Supreme Court for having the courage to acknowledge reality when you see it.

Tim Pool Clarifies the Commercial/Sexual Hierarchy

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I suspected this but it’s good to have confirmation.  But what about Miller Lite?  Are their drinkers just hen-pecked?  Seriously, I’m curious to see if the Bud Light boycott success can be duplicated with Target.  I think the effect will be much smaller.  But with the current economy maybe even a small downturn might be significant.

Winding Down

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Lately I’ve been tired.  Too much going on.  Not enough time to get everything done.  And when I’m tired, I think of the strangest things.  Probably disorganized thought processes.  Probably just free association rattling around in my head.

But I seemed to see a parallel between the way I am feeling and our world.  Our civilization is tired.  It’s slowing down.  It’s like a pendulum that’s run out of momentum.  The original impetus that got it going has been worn away by frictional losses and its motion is ebbing away.  Soon it will stop.  And once it stops something different and much less satisfactory will take its place.  We won’t be marking time with the Newtonian clockwork precision of the pendulum.  We’ll measure it by the frantic beat of our hearts as we run in panic from one disaster to the next.

All signs point to decay and the law of the jungle.  The breakdown of law and order in the cities seems to be the new model.  The weak will be at the non-existent mercy of the savage and ugliness will be the norm.  This all follows the same pattern as past iterations.  Rome had its Marius, Sulla, Caesar, Antony and Octavius.  We have Clinton, Obama, Biden, Trump and DeSantis.  These strange monsters appear around the landscape and strut their hour before being replaced by the next monster.  The only thing that’s certain is that the progression is a devolution.  Each character outdoes its predecessor in weirdness and in the amount of damage it will do to its surroundings.

Look at the absurd cast.  We have the game show huckster.  We have the richest man in the world.  We have an ancient senile grifter whose bagman son is a drug-addled pervert.  Soon we’re sure to have a man dressed as a woman running the world.  And finally, we have the prospect that a superhuman artificial intelligence will commandeer our whole human enterprise and possibly pull the plug on all of us.

The more I look at all this the more certain I am that something has got to give.  Somehow, somewhere, a portion of this dying world will break loose and make a new start.  It’s just not reasonable to think that all the progress and energy that existed a generation ago has all been snuffed out.  A civilization that could harness the atom and send rockets to the outer planets couldn’t just lay down and die, leaving nothing behind.  Something will survive.

But I’m also very certain that the wreckage will be horrendous.  For instance, the American cities look to be an almost total loss.  Chicago is leading the way in rushing to meet its fate.  They’ve recently chosen a new mayor who ran on a defund the police subtext.  The recent murder of a policewoman by a couple of teenage thugs just highlights the new power structure in that city.  The criminals have the upper hand and the city government won’t challenge them.

So, the death spiral continues apace and it will get much, much worse before it can even begin to get better.  The only part that is difficult to predict is where and how a new civilization will appear.  Maybe it won’t even be a western culture.  China, India and a few other countries in Asia might hold the seeds to a future renaissance.  But in the short term we will have to go through the whole passion play.  Next up is the tyrant.  Who will be our Caesar?  Our Brutus?  Or maybe we’ll skip ahead and Hunter Biden will be our Caligula.  Only time will tell.