Thursday, January 12, 2017



Can you even imagine having enough hatred in your heart for anyone--much less Barrack and Michelle Obama--that you would feel the need to hire prostitutes to defile the bed where they once slept by pissing all over it?

To hate the Obamas--as inoffensive and admirable a couple as have ever served in public office--with that kind of bilious, quasi-Satanic intensity... that is what I mean when I refer to Trump as being unprecedented, as being a monster.

Trump is a monster. He's a fecal golem, his forehead adorned with the kabbalistic formula MAGA, fueled by the crackling malevolent battery at his core: a pitch-black Pulsar of pure hate, burning in the frozen vacuum where God forgot to put a soul.

And he is days away from becoming the most powerful man in the world.

  • After being found guilty of murdering nine worshipers at South Carolina's Emanuel AME church, Dylann Roof has been sentenced to death. After having taken the time to listen to his entire 2 hour FBI confession tape, I can tell you one thing: The ONLY thing differentiating Roof from the vast majority of Far Right Trumpnik Redhats is that he carried through on his beliefs. More on this soon.
  • Journalists present for Trump's Wednesday press conference--his first since July--want everyone to know that they weren't clapping at his pronouncements and laughing at his jokes. Those noises were literally being made by paid Trump staffers. I guess Trump learned a valuable lesson from Jeb!'s "Please clap" moment.
  • My Twitter crush Elliott Lusztig says that he thinks the next ten days will be "as crucial to American history as the famous Thirteen Days of October 1962", and you know what? I think he's right.

Did you know that some alt-right media whores are trying to float the notion that Trump wasn't actually mocking journalist Serge Kovalevski in that infamous moment from his campaign?

Check out this video by noted Nazi fanboy and Canadian welfare-case-cum-conservative-clickbait-cunt Gavin MacInnes on the subject...

Considering the ridiculous bullshit these Trumpnik Redhats are ready to believe about anyone they dislike, the idea that they think Trump wasn't mocking Kovalevski is pretty fucking rich. What do they think Trump meant when he said: "the poor guy — you’ve got to see this guy"?

I shouldn't have to say this, but the fact that Trump has wiggled his arms in the past does NOT mean that he wasn't mocking Kovalevski.

By the way, this all neatly skates around the real issue here, which is the fact that Trump fucking LIED about what Kovalevski said re: his article "supporting" Trump's retarded assertion that he watched thousands of Jihadis celebrating 9/11 on New Jersey rooftops! Again and again he's repeated this bullshit! 

But whatever. Let's get bogged down in semantics and microscopic, mock-forensic detail, so the big picture always gets lost in the shuffle. It seems to be what we're best



Only one suggested "reading" (in the purely semiotic sense) for today, and it's this abbreviated version of a 1958 episode from the Western TV series "Trackdown", in which a con-man named Trump comes to town and warns the people that the world will be destroyed, and he's the only one who can stop it, by building a wall!


"And so rock bottom became the solid foundation upon which I rebuilt my life."

- Harry Potter author J.K Rowling, as quoted by MMA fighter Ronda Rousey, who posted the above quote on her Instagram page, apparently deaf to the irony inherent in the fact that Rowling didn't write the above until AFTER she'd done the hard work of re-building her life.

  • If you want to learn about some cool and/or weird things that happened on the 11th day of January, check out our sister-site, Useless Eater Blog.


Curiouser and curiouser, these interesting times in which we find ourselves embroiled...


  1. When I was much, much younger, still in college and 9-11 was still way over the horizon, my friends and I would gather together to watch crap movies, drink way too much and generally have a good time until all hours of the night. We talked about insane, ludicrous things, and one night we found ourselves talking about the OK City bombing, since I was distantly related to one of the bombers.

    (Interestingly enough, at the same time, I had a cousin who was married to the brother of a certain Richard Wayne Snell, and a friend of mine whom I met later went to school with, and lived next door to, McVeigh in New York--amazing how these things happen, isn't it?).

    One of the guys in our little group, who I will call "Jake," was not the sharpest knife in the drawer, and he hadn't said much through the whole thing, mostly because he was drunk off of his ass. But when we found ourselves talking about how you'd pull off a mass attack, Jake finally said that he wouldn't bother with bombs, he'd just hijack a plane and steer that sucker into a building, since a fully-fueled plane is pretty much a man-piloted cruise missile. He'd pick a high-profile target like Washington or New York or something.

    And right after he said that, he got this sick little look on his face, and when my other friend--call him "Matt"--looked at him, I saw the look on his face as well.

    All three of us looked and felt as if a goose had walked over our graves. We finally shook it off and went back to talking .

    I don't know the exact date, but I do know it was in early September of 2000, and it was on a Sunday night.

    Over the course same year, I had classes in speech and microbiology with associated labs. I had presentations in both classes, so I killed two birds with one stone, and made them both about bioterrorism so I could do reuse my research for both. I discussed possible infectious agents with some of the pros and cons of each, and settled on Anthrax as a good possibility, since it was relatively easy to obtain and prepare for use as an infectious agent with minimal expense or risk of accidentally Darwinizing yourself, and touched on a former soviet biowarfare laboratory called VECTOR as one possible source for smallpox.

    During each presentation, I developed a strange, sick sort of feeling, the same one I got that night months before.

    And when I stopped to really look, my classmates, some of them, were wearing the same stunned-bunny look on their faces that me, Matt and Jake had had that night.

    So was the professor. Her sister received an envelop with white powder in it sometime in 2001 while she was living in Pennsylvania.

    I don't know what it means. But the next time I had to give a presentation, I gave it on the history of brewing.

  2. That's intense. ike psychedlic coincidence/cosmic timing kinda intense. I was in Texas, drinking in the car and enjoying the final weekend before the open container law took effect, ranting and raving about government intrusion into personal lives. A few days later, 9/11 happened, and that government intrusion into personal lives took on a whole new dimension, even involving a visit from the FBI based on trigger words in some e-mails I sent to a college professor. And it's just gotten worse -- everything we do is permanent and monitored; we have internalized the panopticon, even invited it into our lives. Strange times indeed.

  3. I once had a dream that I was eating a giant marshmallow...when I woke up my pillow was gone...So I kinda know what you guys are sayin'.