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.
[ Before we begin, a word about hyperlinks in this and any Instapunk post. They’re there to help you, not create a series of distracting digressions. Good rule of thumb: note that the link is there, take it if you can’t resist, but try to finish reading the post and then go back to any hyperlinks that still intrigue you. Videos are reader’s now/later choice every time. Absolute linearity is the obsession of the obsolete typewriter crowd.] The Preface to this post is here . Göbekli Tepe. 12,500 years old. Belief in the existence of the divine lasted for 12,340 yrs. This is very long. I had to write down what I was thinking in some detail. I’m glad I did, but you don’t have to read it at one sitting. If you like, you can skip all the way down to the Section titled “The Secular Dead End” and get the tone and gist of my perspective, leaving the substance till later or never. Understood? Let’s get down to it. What’s the Big Thing that matters most, more than anything? Answer? The...
You Bought Your Ticket… Now Here’s Your Ride! Over at Facebook, I posted a glib and unserious reel about the Swearing In of Zoltan Mandamme in an abandoned subway station. Talk about your hopeful venues…! I really should take it seriously, but I find it almost impossible because I know some well-to-do Manhattanites who have been on board with all the TDS seizures in NYC over the last 10 years. I think of them and immediately wonder just how many cartoon graphics Google has for the search phrase “cutting off your nose to spite your face.” Answer? A lot. Best of all I imagine that Big Moment, you know the one, when the roller-coaster reaches the tippy-top of the first hill and pauses… just before it plunges in into clackety-clack abyss. That pause moment is the pinnacle of the roller-coaster ride. You, yourself, and thou alone with your excitement and trepidation. Everything after that is just hanging on and screaming until the ride just seems too long and you want out a...
Edward Hopper, severified by me . If I can surprise myself on a Friday morning otherwise filled with nervous chatter, maybe I can help someone else achieve a more reflective mood as we approach the weekend. Here are a few tidbits that popped up when I checked what visitors had viewed in the last 24 hours. Not here for the funny this time. More fractal than that… sometimes it feels like they’re looking for me , in bits and pieces. I’ve corrected some link problems with these. The Internet is growing old and forgetful faster than I am… I am Cassandra Ru-u-u-sh Awaaay… [All] Things Fall Apart The Creepy Line (The trailer will do for now. Come back later if you’re intrigued.) Every Once in a While I Remember My Roots They’re not (necessarily) very long, except for the last one. And this one… It’s Called a Rhombi…hedron
This is only the first of two, possibly three posts on the most overlooked problem area in the Western Hemisphere. This is the part where I do what most commentators rarely do, come clean about the existing biases on the subject in my own past, which are on record and not repudiated. A keyword search here at IPR will show you two recent posts about the recent convulsions in U,S.-Canada relations, but this one might have remained hidden if I hadn’t dug it out from the Internet Archive to show you. That’s where I’ll leave it for now while work continues on researching the present mess. Tuesday, July 05, 2005 Canada Day! One of Canada's remote provinces launches its two fireworks. REGRET . Yeah, it's a bit late. Canada Day is really celebrated on July 1, but it's impossible to pay attention to it until after the July 4th festivities are over. Even now, I feel kind of guilty discussing Canada Day without having done more to reemphasize the profound significance ...
The Blue Pill speaks. I did something unconscionable on the last day of 2025. I posted End of Year Thoughts for 2025 at the conclusion of the first turbulent Year of Trump 2.0 and barely mentioned Trump. The post was over 12,000 words long and linked four directly related posts by name that totaled another 12,000 words. I must have rocks in my head. As I expected, it hasn’t drawn much traffic yet. I even took the unusual step for me of posting a promotional reel for my own post, which is also off to a modest start. 23 views, as compared to my most popular reel this month, which got 30,000 hits making fun of Tim Walz. I’m not even disappointed. It’s the holiday season and social network traffic is down across the board. As I said when I posted it on the 31st, I wrote it because I had to. Nobody has to read it because I want them to. I’d have left it there to find its own way in its own good time, except that as I have experienced far more frequently than the laws of co...
The Inaugural Rufus T. Firefly Prize So there are going to be all these prizes handed out by the eminent because invisible Marx Committee. The Committee stands on a handful of glorious principles, including in no particular order, Wars must be either lost or unending, ‘Democracy’ belongs exclusively to those who say the word the most times, the Only Guideline for global governance is ‘America Last,’ and the One and Only Great Commandment of Democratic leaders is “LOOK AT ME!” That’s why the first of many Marx Prizes will not be awarded to an American but to exemplary Furriners, meaning people we can all learn a lot from. The first of them will be the Rufus T. Firefly Prize, given to furriners who are the most eloquent about how to deal with the One Great Evil that trumps all other evils. And here they are… Subsequent prizes will be awarded as they are earned, regardless of month or year or the number of seconds showing to Zero Hour on the One True Atomic Clock, which is held in t...
Same idea. Turned into a galoop by misplaced trust in wrong’ uns. Christmas was especially generous to the Gateway Pundit yesterday, offering up a bonanza of Punch-and-Judy type slapstick comedy. The stars included both knowns and unknowns in the lefty art of making fools of themselves as they act out some of the dumber parts of the aging Panderer Playbook. Rather than string them together at Facebook as if they were breaking news that mattered, Instapunk decided to string them together here as an entry in his old regular feature, The Friday Follies. No more setup needed. Just sit back and laugh. Dressing up for the Holidays FTA: <<Minnesota Lt. Gov. Peggy Flanagan appeared in a video wearing a hijab while addressing members of the Somali community, gushing about how they’re woven into the “fabric” of the state. Flanagan, of course, is not Muslim. This comes amid growing backlash against Somali-linked fraud scandals in her state, which drained billions in taxpayer dollars. Flan...
This pic makes sense at Hump Day HQ . A lot of wannabe news out there, without many headlines that go beyond the threat level. Why Hump Day can be an opportunity to back off a bit, regroup, and get our minds right for finishing the week with a flourish. The idea for this post came to me when I was checking visitor stats, which usually are set to seven days. A little under 500 had visited in the last day, but no one had visited the newest post. That’s highly unusual. What were they all looking at? I changed the timeframe to 24 hours, and here’s what I got: A couple are here because I may have mentioned them online elsewhere, but most are here for reasons unknown. Not a lot to any of them, and these hardly add up anywhere close to 500, so they must be the result of curiosity, of keyword searches by visitors taking a look around. In other words, this list might qualify as a representative sample of the Instapunk site as a whole and what piques the interest of its audience. So ...
This post was last updated at 11 PM, Wednesday, December 31. Latest entries are “Year End Thoughts on 2025,” “The ‘W’ File from Moon Books,” and “The Cryptkeeper.” The Instapunk Times is hot off the presses! XMAS STRIKE ISSUE! ] Undernet Black was updated December 24. This will be a pinned post in perpetuity, but it will be updated continuously, just like all of our lives. The title — “My World and Welcome to It” — is stolen happily from James Thurber, who is known as a humorist, unabashedly untrained cartoonist, and dog lover. He was also subject to melancholy, a drinker of note, and something of an outsider (in his own damaged eyes at least) as an Ohioan, born and educated, who became a fixture in the glamorous Algonquin Roundtable of Manhattan writers and playwrights. I can relate to all of that but the fame and the lifelong journey to blindness. I believe he was likely the best writer of the gang that gathered in the Algonquin Hotel in the 1930s, and I made...
Do not pass go, do not collect £200 Sterling. I don’t usually do this. Put up a post at Facebook that felt like it also belonged here. So here it is, based on a Breitbarf story: Prime Ministers Starney, Cramer, and Dundese This is one of those “As If” stories. Written and posted as if it were news, which it isn’t. Writing down Whwt the kids say in the Playroom when no adults are presumed present is just something to occupy the time when nobody really knows what’s happening in the big story topics. Iran. Who knows? Ukraine. Minnesota’s H.S. version of Fort Sumter. Who knows? The SCOTUS ruling on tariffs. Who knows? The U.S. District Court Insurgency. Who knows? Greenland. WTF knows? Aaaaah. The parliamentary democracies of the British Commonwealth are doing a Parker-Bros Monopoly version of “The Empire Strikes Back”! How touching. How quaint. My own theory is that the mass media, left and right birth, have been so exhausted by the hectic pace of the first year...
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