Being the continuation of InstaPunk and InstaPunk Rules
Happy New Year!
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Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot...
Guy Lombardo. The once and future Czar of New Year’s Eve.
Welcome to the past, which is the blurry black-and-white future the revolutionary Democrats-in-charge have in mind for you. 1957 is not ideal, not the final outcome envisioned by a party whose platform is essentially a mimeograph of the Bernie Sanders campaign platform. They couldn’t nominate him because he’s Jewish and a lifelong advocate of Cuban and Soviet “socialism,” which is to say he is a Communist in everything but name. So they stole all his policy prescriptions instead. Why HIS Life Matters. In 1957, Bernie was in high school. No doubt, one of the stories that attracted his attention to the USSR, which was its demonstration of superior technology via the first satellite in space, Sputnik.
Leading the way, even if the dog dies. For the greater good.
By the time he went to Brooklyn College in 1959, Castro was just coming to power and Bernie became a loud advocate for him and all things Marxist. By then, of course, most of the world was well aware that the Marxist experiment in the Soviet Union had become a one-party totalitarian state under Josef Stalin. Which Bernie never seemed to mind. More from 1957:
The Hitlerian monster Stalin was four years dead by then, but the USSR remained every inch what he had made it. (Antifa take note of the following. You can DO this.)
In WWII, btw, FDR affectionatelynicknamed him “Uncle Joe.”
Bernie Sanders continues to insist he’s not a totalitarian Communist but a Democratic-Socialist, meaning he’s only interested in helping the oppressed workers by confiscating business from the private sector and redistributing income so that everybody has the same (almost) living wage and the exact same crappy healthcare, except for the brainy leaders who have five houses and pay no taxes. It’s completely different, right?
Chances are, the Sanders vision is more consistent with that of Venezuela’s Maduro, who praised Bernie as a revolutionary ally in the war against capitalism. So maybe this is what we all have to look forward to in the Luddite paradise being planned for us by the newly emboldened Uni-Party, which they hope to make permanent by conferring statehood on D.C. and Puerto Rico (4 new Dem senators), packing the Supreme Court, abolishing the Electoral College, and adding millions of government-dependent Dem-voting illegal aliens. The economy will take care of itself, especially when all those pesky fossil fuels have been eliminated.
“The western city of Maracaibo used to be Venezuela's affluent oil capital. But today, it's a place of hardship and hunger. Facing hyperinflation, corruption, penniless public services, crime and chronic shortages, the city has become a symbol of the country's wider economic collapse. Eating has become a luxury. Due to a lack of medical care, the lives of children, the elderly and those with chronic diseases are slowly slipping away. In this 26-minute documentary, our reporter Roméo Langlois bring us a heart-wrenching account of the depths of human suffering.”
Well, we can all hope for the best, can’t we? I do wish you all a Happy New Year. Now it’s time for me to go get ready for all those locked down bowl games we’ve been enjoying so much in our COVID gulag.
You remember this guy ? His name was John Wilkes Booth. He killed President Abraham Lincoln, whose birthday it is today. He was a Confederate sympathizer who believed Lincoln and the federal government that enforced United States laws were evil. Pretty much like — no, exactly like — today’s Democrat know-it-alls who encourage violence against federal laws removing the technical non-voters they think they own like the crooked judges who make their fortunes. John Wilkes Booth was considered insignificant before he killed the President. He was an actor, related to a more famous actor and living pretty much on his name only anymore. Sound like any bios you’ve heard lately? I’m just asking you to remember that the following people may seem like insignificant entertainers with all their violent threats agains Trump, but in their kind of work they all learn how to load and cocks guns. And pull the trigger while aiming at the red laser dot. Yeah, these people. What do they all claim...
P. T. Barnum’s Most Famous Attraction My first job at NCR Corporation was in Product Marketing, which encompasses marketing strategy, marketing communications, and sales support in the form of competition information. Yawn. But my career began with an immediate crisis. When I was taking stock of what I had to work with, I tried to find my division marketing strategy. There wasn’t one. Well, there was, but it wasn’t a strategy; it was a simple directive. Pursue major accounts. Period. So I wrote a marketing strategy document and showed it to the smartest guy I knew at NCR, the one-man band who gave Executive Briefings to targeted major account decision makers. He shook his head at me. “It’s great,” he told me. “But there’s nobody to show it to. Not your boss, not his boss, and not the Director of Marketing. He doesn’t give this kind of stuff the time of day.” Oh. We talked. He got more enthusiastic. “What might work is sending it directly to our real boss, the Division VP. Y...
This is one in a series of posts I’ve written for a friend explaining ways in which my life has seemed orchestrated rather than the strict result of my own decisions. Even my biggest seeming mistakes have produced enormous benefits in terms of furthering my education and the scope of my writing. This is the latest of those posts, shared here because there’s no one living who can be hurt by its content becoming generally available. It’s more personal than IPR posts usually are. But I’m in a Shane mood at the moment and I don’t care. It’s a mood that recurs now and again. It passes and I go back to work. But that’s why this post is being shared here, today. One point to remember. The audio narratives here were not scripted. They were extemporaneous recordings made on my iPad over a number of years, not expressly for this post. C’est L’amour That’s the Piaf I fixated on when I was forming my first thoughts on romantic love. I knew of her before we were ever went to France, because my...
In sunnier days, this would probably have been a Friday Follies post. But we’re talking a wilder take on recent antics being fed us through the mass media. More like Friday FAFO Fun. Just how batshit crazy we should feel about the hallucinogenic diet we’re on depends more than somewhat on what side of the aisle we’re viewing it from. For example, if you’re MAGA, as many of my readers are, you probably feel compelled to check in on the War Room on a fairly regular basis. Where the hunt seems to be on for that one more fatal trap the cunning Dementocrats will be using to steal yet another election. I’m not taking questions here. This is just how the daily drear if RAV is striking me. Note that the part of “Hang On” Steve is being played here by Jon Voight, and wait for the relief of seeing Julie “the Smart One” Kelly being played by Sigourney Weaver. You and I should consider ourselves Stanley. Is that better or worse than being one of wet behind the ears voyeurs of the left ...
Yes, it became an annual Nightline Ceremony Now that the first battlefield casualties of ‘Trump’s Iran War’ have been recorded (6 as of 3/2/26), Ivan hear the bells tolling on the soundtrack of the Alphabet News networks lamenting the names of dead military personnel they don’t care about in any other respect. Soldier deaths are one more cudgel that can be used to beat the America First crowd with. We’ve been here before. The article reproduced below is one I wrote for the original Instapunk blog almost exactly 20 years ago. The occasion was a forthcoming — and much promoted — edition of Nightline dedicated to intoning all the names, one by one, of American military personnel killed in Iraq. A not so subtle undermining of ‘Bush’s Iraq War,’ by a TV program that began as a nightly update on the American hostages taken by Iran in November 1979 after Jimmy Carter handed that nation over to the Ayatollah Khomeini. The ironies abound. Nightline was outraged by the plight of the ...
Jesse Jackson (1942-2026) Honestly tried to find an appropriately hagiographic portrait of Mr. Jackson on the occasion of his death, but I came up pretty empty. Mostly photos of him with other famous people, usually Democrats and Civil Rights bigwigs. I really did make an effort to turn an old photo of him into something more. His was a career full of activity and effort but little glamor. He ran for President twice in two of the weakest candidate pools the Dems Hadhad before the current slagpile. In 1984 he lost the nomination to Mondale, who went on to lose 49 of 50 states. In 1988 he polled worse than Al Gore and Michael Dukakis, who also lost bigly in the general. What little attention I paid him then and subsequently is probably due to his participation in the phenomenon of Reagan Derangement Syndrome, that new streak of personal hatred which entered National Democrat politicking after Watergate. Then he gradually dropped away into the background. Honestly, I probably would l...
Two people daring to approach one another against the odds I like this pic. A surreal take on Valentine’s Day. My wife and I love each other, just not this particular commercial permutation of romance. She doesn’t want a card and I don’t either. But it doesn’t mean I want to be a Scrooge about the whole thing. More than one way to stir a heart though. Loving a musical talent of the opposite sex is not what I’d call cheating, or else I’m in very big trouble. Just shared my lifelong romance with Edith Piaf, which will live as long as I do. But she’s not the only one I have flirtations, infatuations, even relationships with. Enough of them that this could be a series, though I promise I’ll keep that to a minimum. Still, this is a good time to acknowledge such affinities. Women have been misbehaving quite a lot on public stages of Iate and I have not been shy about calling them out. Appropriate that I give a moment to my more tender feelings. Yes, even I have feelings. And female sin...
DISCLAIMER: If you’re anything like me (attentive to the things I’m attentive to), you’re behind the curve in this whole podcasting phenomenon. I’d seen short clips of podcasts at ‘X’-Twitter, heard about the land office business Tucker Carlson was doing right after he left Fox, and didn’t pay that much attention to people like Joe Rogan until Barron Trump suddenly got credit for stealing the media narrative from the alphabet media (ABC, CBS, NBC, MSNBC, CNN, PBS, NYT, WAPO) during the election campaign. Honestly, I’d regarded solo “pundits” filming themselves being smarter than everyone else as an opportunity for satire rather than serious analysis. Why this disclaimer. I have put my own oar in the podcasting water. Several times. Trying to figure out how normal people could produce a regular series of programs on their own hook. So I took a crack at it on the down low. I wake up early, long before dawn, so I experimented with filming myself on the iPad. Without a printer I coul...
With all the ruckus about U.S. athletes showing off their jock insight about politics and patriotism this year (“me, me, effing ICE killers, and uh, me”), I haven’t paid much attention to the competitions in Milan, a city in which I had some fine evenings decades ago. Why spoil those memories with graceless images of Ugly Americans embarrassing themselves and us? What has seeped through my indifference is four American performances on, ironically, ice. Two were disasters, gold medal candidates in figure skating who failed dismally under the Olympic spotlight, and two sterling American gold medal victories by a charismatic young legal immigrant from China and a Women’s Ice Hockey Team that beat Canada thrillingly in Overtime. Any karma involved here and there? Could be. Regardless, I’m not going to replay any of these turns on ice here. Let the dead past bury its dead self and let the long lasting glow of triumph reveal itself again at intervals as occasions warrant. Why such a hig...
Mad Max as you’re supposed to want her Having finished my Mad Max post yesterday, I realized I had confined my discussion of the ‘Instant Gratification’ problem to the MAGA fainthearts. Their inability to look far enough forward to envision consequences is far less than that of the whole half country full of Democrat apologists and Trump haters. Shouldn’t I address that fact in some comparable terms to what I just wrote? I guess so. The easy answer is referencing the two recent Mad Max sequels provided to us by Woke Hollywood. But I haven’t seen them. I had no interest in paying to see them in a theater. At one point I did put one of them, Furiosa I think, on my IMDB watch list. I received a notification that it would be briefly available on one of the streaming services and I did tune in to watch. Lost interest about 15 minutes in, by which time the old rules had it a good movie should have you hooked. I was not hooked. It was just the same cinematic backdrop as the Road W...
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