Being the continuation of InstaPunk and InstaPunk Rules
That’s “O” with an “M” and an Asterisk
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Yes. The next wave of vermin is starting to come out of the woodwork.
The Trump haters are getting desperate. The Republicans are failing to mount a successful knee-capping operation, so much so that after two dismal rounds of debates they’re already going for the Hail Mary of drafting a candidate who previously announced his intention to keep on doing the job he was just elected to do.
The newest GOP savior has now been a Governor for 21 months.
The last Virginian to throw a successful Hail Mary in the NFL was Michael Vick (now retired), but it’s been a lot longer than that since Virginia had a winner in the Presidential game. In fact, the self-proclaimed “Mother of Presidents” has the most lopsided record of great/godawful presidents of any state in the union, the worst news being that all the good ones were out of office by 1825. Of the remainder, two inherited the office as VPs and were never elected to the office, two died in office early in their terms, and one was all but dead in his last year in office, filled in for by a wife who should probably have been convicted for treason a hundred years ago. This record does not bode well for Glenn Youngkin, who to his credit has not been one of those promoting his candidacy to save the party from Donald Trump.
The truth is, neither major party has much of a bench to draw presidential candidates from. Various flavors of nepotism have corrupted the competition so thoroughly that good people don’t come forward to run against them unless they descend from from out of the blue on an escalator to thumb their nose at the whole rotten political system. Trump polished off the Bush clan in the primaries and torpedoed the Clinton machine’s luck in the 2016 shocker the aristocats still refuse to accept. Which is why the slayer of the “My Turn to be President” families has aroused such implacable fury and the most blatant resort to nepotism yet essayed in the United States.
You see, us independent Americans, the ones who fought two wars to escape from rule by the silver spoon twits of Britain, are nevertheless hooked on celebrity, especially the political celebrity of famous last names, regardless of actual accomplishment. And we’ve been taught rigorously to be suspicious of white men, particularly good looking white men who pay too much attention to their hair. How, for example, are voters supposed to react to these would-be candidates when they’ve spent so much wit and venom despising Donald Trump’s mysterious but obviously expensive coif?
Youngkin and Newsom are just too cisnormal looking.
Pretty sure this isn’t going to work. But the preferred Democrat action plan of doing absolutely nothing about the Biden problems and just riding on the stainless steel rails of voter indifference and high-tech election rigging is also no longer working. For some reason, even some fractious Democrats in the hinterlands have noticed that there’s something not quite right about Uncle Joe.
Yeah. People noticed. Even when they were
told they weren’t seeing what they were seeing.
Much as they hate to admit it, the Dems know Biden is done. If you can’t stomach old guys with hair fetishes, then a black woman is the obvious answer, right? Well, you know, obvious is a tricky word. This particular obvious answer is what got us Kamala, and no one wants her even more than no one wants Biden. Which leaves us with the answer that’s been sitting there all along. And unbeknownst to us, has been getting ready all along.
That wooden figurehead wasn’t carved yestiddy. It’s already weathered for Chrissake.
Quite a few folks out there have been worried about this eventuality all along. And they’ve been dutiful about looking for and recording Michelle’s missteps along the path to whatever destiny awaits. Apparent vulnerabilities have been identified. For one, she’s not the best dresser that ever decorated the White House for Christmas.
Not always the most wannabe-Presidential wardrobe choices.
But that’s not the real log in the water waiting for the one who would be the first female President. Opportunistic observers of bad faith, and even some who simply like having fun at celebrity expense, have raised questions about Michelle’s womanhood. Just go with the flow here in a video that had to be carved into three parts because Blogger has antique restrictions on the size of video files:
Like some others, I made this up because the raw materials
were available and it was fun to do, not because I expect it to
win much credence. Makes me part of the problem? Dunno.
Truthfully, it’s gotten a whole lot nastier than the above at times, and the vid below is only one of many…
If anything, the rumor mill has increased its turnout since the unusual death of a black male sous-chef offshore from the Obama estate on Martha’s Vineyard. It occurred at night, and oddly, the local gendarmes have been reticent about sharing facts concerning the death with the press. People are going hmmm. Because Tucker Carlson, naughty man, has recently interviewed a fella who claims he had a tryst with Barack involving both sex and crack cocaine. Naturally, the buzz turns to speculation about the real nature of the relationship between the Obama spouses. Is Barack really gay, as rumors have had it for years? Is Michelle really a male transvestite acting as a beard for her Presidential hubby? Or is she an honest-to-goodness transgender person hiding a deep dark secret?
Simultaneously with all the sex gossip, other kinds of opposition to Michelle are forming with the potential to be far more damaging to her chances of winning the presidency with a last-minute bailout of the Democrats in 2024.
The Brit report contained other excerpts meant to confirm their implication that Michelle Robinson’s thesis is the work of a mediocre poseur who produced at Princeton the academic equivalent of Kamala’s “word salads.”:
FTA: << As we have seen, the findings discussed in the previous paragraphs seem to support the hypothesis that respondents who were increasing the time spent with Blacks were becoming more attached to the Black community during the Pre-to-Prin period both in their individual interactions and in their political ideologies about Black and White relations on a community level. Respondents who were increasing time spent with Blacks were also becoming interested in positively contributing to the Black community. (Robinson, 42)…
However, with the increasing integration of Blacks into the mainstream society, many "integrated Blacks" have lost touch with the Black culture in their attempts to become adjusted and comfortable in their new culture -- the White culture. Some of these Blacks are no longer able to enjoy the qualities which make Black culture so unique or are unable to openly share their culture with other Blacks because they have become so far removed from these experiences and, in some instances, ashamed of them as a result of their integration. (Robinson, 54)…>>
Plain English might have boiled these two paragraphs down to a couple of straightforward sentences. But academic prose has become like this everywhere, hasn’t it? Don’t use 10 words to say what you could inflate to 50. Magna Cum Laude!
More serious than context-free mockery of Michelle’s writing is the recent approach of a man named Joel Gilbert, who is more interested in the content of this thesis than its language. He has done voluminous research into the differences between her life story as sold to the public and the reality of what was a pretty affluent middle-class upbringing far away from the South Side survivor of Chicago’s mean streets she claims to be. He has a book out and a movie on the way.
Do I believe Gilbert is onto something? I do indeed. Do I believe Michelle Obama is a male, either transvestite or transgendered to imitation femaleness by surgery and hormones? No. Not for a minute. Do I believe Barack Obama is a closeted gay man with deep sexual issues? Yes, in all probability. Which is why I suspect that Obama haters have been played for quite a few years now by one of the shrewdest scoundrels in American political history.
The gayness of Barack Obama, or his inclinations that way, are to my mind responsible for the drastic social engineering policies we have seen implemented beginning in his administration and exponentially increased after he (nominally) left office. He really does intend to destroy the traditional nuclear family and its hidebound conventions, which are and have been incredibly stultifying to everyone who now identifies as LGBTQ+. His efforts to achieve this are a sort of personal revenge but also have a parallel political motivation. The dissolution of the American population into victim groups turned loose to overturn all institutions, all consensus mores, and all artifacts of Judeo-Christian authority are consistent with the establishment of the state as a replacement deity. When this wrenching change in the culture is accomplished, all hindrances to totalitarian rule can be swept away, especially a Constitution founded on the authority of a discredited white man’s God.
What remains? The state owns all the people it rules. Parents are superfluous except as biological origins of the millions of units made controllable by the deliberately inculcated absence of conscience and consciousness.
How long has the Michelle ascendancy been planned? Long time. Long long time. Who knows where the first whispers about her supposed manliness got started? In the current political and cultural context, the sexual controversy swirling around her can be the best defense against an assault on the untruthfulness of her biography, which Obama knows by dint of his own experience: the modified (or invented) birth certificate his critics still can’t forget, the grades and transcripts from Columbia and Harvard he refuses to show, the three autobiographies he almost certainly didn’t write, and the overlong association with the hateful Trojan Horse of a ‘Christian” preacher whose gospel was Saul Alinsky with a Koran chaser. The mass media allowed him to get away unscathed with all the misdirections and suspect behaviors of his life. Including this:
If the Joel Gilbert attack on Michelle is more successful against Michelle than it was against Barack, an outcome made more likely by the fact that she has zero qualifications for serving as President of the United States, the sex angle could wind up being her best line of defense. She is a gold star victim of right wing sexual persecution that in this new era of openness about gender victimization could make her the underdog candidate of every woman in America. Because, yes, she really is a woman, has had two children, and the dirty allegations are something which simply cannot be tolerated. If millions of women could be made to believe that overturning Roe automatically outlawed abortion, they can also be made to believe that Michelle Obama is a Social Justice cause worthy of overcoming old party loyalties the same way her husband was.
And if someone takes the sex attack in an altogether different direction, well, who doesn’t tell lies about sex? We learned that back in the 20th Century. Who’s going to care about this?
Hmmm. Gay hubby, charismatic preacher man with a
long close family association. And a daughter with a
mouth, chin and dimples like… Nah! How dare you?
Bring it on. The celebrity-obsessed women of America will love having a solid gold figurehead of a President more than up to replacing the old, tired, shady, pervy one. It’ll be great. Our New Age kind of woman*.
SEE ALSO: A Prologue of Sorts and The Main Event to see why Michelle will be reticent to say anything controversial for the next few months. All the inflammatory political stuff will be hidden behind the curtain until the great unveiling in January 2025.
Invocation of Nemesis by the Summoners Click on Rosie. Thought I’d get this part out of the way right up front. I’m reminded of Oscar Wilde’s famous quip about the upper class British sport of fox hunting: “The unspeakable in pursuit of the inedible.” As it happens, I’m working on two different posts at the same time this morning. This one and another one about the sad PR plight afflicting the unfortunate middle child of the three worst First Ladies in American history. . What the posts have in common is that the dominating element of both stories is a function of female psychology and can only be understood in those terms. There’s also the irony that Wilde’s jibe can be applied with some justice to both predator and prey in the two posts. Because I’m going to admit at the outset what most of the MAGA faithful won’t. You are right that Donald Trump is responsible for much of the imminent danger we are facing as a nation. Without his arrival on the political scene 11 years ...
This is what I call an omnibus post. That is, it will contain many links to what I have published here and elsewhere previously. Not going to apologize for that. I don’t mind asking you to read a variety of approaches to the same gigantic topic. It’s a tooic so big we’ve all become accustomed (or trained ourselves) to deal with it only in pieces. But the pieces are all part of a larger whole that has grave consequences for the cukture as a whole. A great many people aren’t going to like what I have to say here, but it’s time it was said. I won’t be mincing words. If you feel like contending with specific points I am making, you’re well advised to read what’s at the links before you cut yourself the easy break of dismissing this post as irrational or wrongheaded or over-generalized. It isn’t. It just won’t be popular. A word about the word ‘general’ as it used in vernacular expressions like ”in general” or “generally speaking.” We all do generalize, mostly without acknowledging that whe...
If you’ve never seen an Asylum production of their “Saving the World from Imminent Destruction” series, you’re excused from this post. The rest of us already know the basics. A once prominent, now disgraced scientist (often Sam Baldwin, but not always) is minding his own business making a living income and trying to mend his struggling family life when he notices that something is seriously amiss in the cosmos. Gravity isn’t working quite right. Or all the birds seem to be migrating at the same time. Or some local pond suddenly ejaculates a pillar of lava. You know. The warning knell of an extinction-level catastrophe. Meanwhile, where are the kids? They were supposed to be home by now. He calls his ex-wife. She doesn’t know where they are. He calls an old colleague at the agency in DC where nobody else will take his calls anymore. In a whisper, the colleague tells him the experts in charge haven’t noticed anything to worry about cosmologically speaking. This far in, we already know wh...
Happy Independence Day No. 250! I’m planning to do my part for the year-long celebration of the still remarkable birth of the United States of America. Just starting to realize that the number of us who remember the last big anniversary in 1976 is getting smaller every day. Why I have some special ideas about focusing on the moment of transition, that is the tick of the clock last night when the 249th year became the 250th. A kind of time capsule that may be buried now but dug up later to see who were way back when you were still as young as you think you are now. My credentials for the job. Quite a few actually, but the most important one today is that I was a working participant in the official Bicentennial celebrations back when I was still young. I wrote a post about it almost 10 years ago, ancient history in today’s 24/7 chronometer dial. In honor of the ones no longer with us from that time, I dug up the old post from the Wayback Machine and put it back together here a...
The last group photo I’m a part of that’s still in my possession. My sister’s wedding in the late1990’s, with me and my mother in attendance, here in Salem. I don’t get out much anymore. Haven’t for a long time. If I didn’t take pictures of myself, nobody would, or could, anymore. I don’t give them the chance. Why in recent years I’ve made a point of doing an official birthday selfie, to keep track of the wear and tear of the years and see if the falling apart process is gaining speed. This year was not a good year for hair. That much I’ll tell you. But here’s the Official 74th Birthday Selfie I took on Friday. Not as young as I used to be. I hadn’t really shown this pic to anyone, but imagine my surprise when I received a gift yesterday by parcel delivery from a young lady I helped raise who will always be close to my heart. She and I hadn’t spoken about the Rolling Stones in years, but somehow she must have divined I’d been thinking of them, because here’s what she ordered sent ...
Marc Antony: “ Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; “I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones; So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus Hath told you Caesar was ambitious: If it were so, it was a grievous fault, And grievously hath Caesar answer’d it. Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest– For Brutus is an honourable man; So are they all, all honourable men– Come I to speak in Caesar’s funeral. He was my friend, faithful and just to me: But Brutus says he was ambitious; And Brutus is an honourable man.” [Worth noting, Gaius Julius Caesar was not an emperor; the successors who fought for absolute power and took his name as a title were emperors and brought about the death of the several hundred years of Roman Republic.] The American Republic is now at an end. We had a good run. He will be forced to concede, because Trump will not declare martial law....
Yeah. Click on the blue headlines. There are two precursor posts to this, both still in-process. I’ll finish and link them later. One is about the death of the historical novel, which mirrors a lot of other deaths in our culture. The other is about divorce, an absolutely transformative and deadly factor in what has become of us as a nation. What does that leave us with? The end result of our progressive devolution, largely invisible to all, because it is a function of the variable we tend to think of as a constant, human consciousness. Which it isn’t. I’ve written quite a lot about the consciousness problem over the years, and Instapunk Returns, as well as a couple other of my blogs, contain 5+++ years worth of thoughts on the topic. I’ll be sending you to those posts here, providing you with an excerpt, usually the lede, a sample graphic or two, and a link. The order is roughly chronological. I’m not going to give you any particular setup from piece to piece. The relevance to the main...
The Valley of the Jerseyikes When you’ve decided to your own satisfaction that life doesn’t end with physical death, what have you got to worry about? That probably depends on where you come down on the age-old questions about ghosts. Do they exist? Are they a possible fate of troubled souls after they’ve shuffled off this mortal coil or been yanked out of it too suddenly? What if you expire peacefully and find yourself waking up in the attic of your own house, somehow tethered to it with no watch you can trust to keep track of time? I know I’ve stopped wearing a watch at all, like almost all of you out there. Are we taking some kind of risk that we’ll miss the departure signal for the trip to the other side? One side effect of getting old and not liking most of what’s on teevee is that you wind up watching too many paranormal shows, which have the virtue of no politics, no gratuitous sex scenes, and extended stretches of restful watching with almost nothing happening on screen. ...
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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