Were the Capitol Hill Commandos nihilists? Or do they have an ethos?
Beats me. They didn’t appear to be granting interviews — too busy smashing cameras and/or taking selfies — but if I were to guess, it seems to me that their ideology starts and stops at Adolf Twitler.
A few clearly had an agenda, but a lot looked like dumb dogs that caught a Cadillac and didn’t know what to do with it. They sure as shit weren’t prepared to drive it.
From the collection of Chairman Bao Wao Wao.
The Weather Underground Organization had a program when it bombed the U.S. Capitol back in March 1971 — armed struggle against imperialism a la Che Guevara and Mao Zedong. Create “two, three, many Vietnams,” as Che advised.
And the WUO decidedly was not above “demands for control and power through seizures of institutions,” as the leadership explained in the 1974 political statement “Prairie Fire,” with the caveat, “Actions are more powerful when they are explained and defended.”
The WUO didn’t exactly drive their program home, either. A bunch of them wound up in the carcel or the camposanto, and a number of their former comrades in the old Students for a Democratic Society split off in other directions, as Mike Klonsky did with the October League and later, the Communist Party (Marxist-Leninist); Your Humble Narrator had a brief affiliation with both organizations in the late Seventies after an undistinguished stint with the Socialist Workers Party.
But at least these organizations had an ethos, a plan, a vision, however myopic. What were (are) these new insurrectionists thinking? Give us your best guesses in comments.
This must be what it feels like to be in the brig after a failed mutiny. Or on deck and in the grip of an obsession, like a one-legged sailor chasing a white whale.
If it’s jail, we built the cells and hired the guards, who’ve been off playing pinochle somewhere, giving the inmates the run of the joint. The whale? Raised it from a pup.
How in hell does anybody get any work done? License plates stamped, kujira sushi rolled? After burning all of my daylight monitoring yesterday’s debacle via NYT and WaPo, trying and failing to finish a job that had nothing to do with a riot goin’ on down in cellblock No. 9 or going fish-fish-, fish-fish, fish-fish-fishin’, I finally threw in the towel and devoted myself entirely to the porthole.
We watched a few minutes of PBS NewsHour during dinner. Holy hell, has that wee beastie ever lost most of its teeth and talons.
Afterward I went back to NYT, watching “live” as the national legislature reconvened for its mutt-and-crowbait show. A few of them acted like they’d gotten the message, emphasis on “acted.” Others, mmm, not so much. Shut that shit off when Lindsey Graham was called to speak. Showered, didn’t feel any cleaner, went to bed anyway.
Woke up at 3. Herself finally bit the bullet and got up when Mia stormed the bedroom 4-ish. I managed to drift back into some interesting nightmares and finally crawled out of the sack around 6.
Let’s not start sucking each other’s — well, you know — quite yet.
Well.
Keeping the advice of the redoubtable Winston Wolf in mind, the news out of Georgia seems … well, frankly, astonishing. Shit, I might ask for a recount, and these are my people we’re talking about here.
Next in the spotlight is what should be a routine confirmation, during a joint session of Congress, of Sleepy Joe’s victory in the Electoral College. One small step for man, one giant leap toward issuing that eviction notice effective Jan. 20.
Yet again, we acknowledge the wisdom of The Wolf.
The Turtle has many tricks up his shell, as does the Flying Monkey Caucus. Also, Adolf Twitler’s Brown Noses are in the streets, and one wonders how many more are wearing brass hats in the Pentagon.
And Mike Ha’pence, the Envelope Opener-in-Chief, is such a fence-straddling chickenshit that you will never find his feet firmly on the ground on one side of an issue.
Particularly this one. His bet was called and now he has to show his hand, which contains nothing but an envelope full of bad news for his dumb ass. He has peered timidly into the future and seen that neither Jesus nor history will treat him kindly, if indeed the Republic survives to have a history that chronicles his craven, self-serving obesiance to a dime-store dictator, and that our posterity retains enough literacy to read it.
All he can do is dance like a puppet, one final time. But to whose tune? One foot to one beat, the other to another, as per usual. No matter who’s holding his strings for this final performance on the American political stage, he will never be a real boy.
He’s gonna have one helluva nose, though. Stained a deep and odiferous brown, too.
• Update: Well, Adolf’s Brown Noses aren’t in the streets anymore. They’re in the Capitol. Naturally, they didn’t check their white privilege at the door. These dudes were Black, they’d have been dead 10 times already. I also seem to recall a rather robust response to Vietnam War protests in the vicinity. But them was hippies, so, whatevs.
The lighter side of the news, from the Atlanta Journal-Constitution.
• Update No. 2: Mother Times calls it for Ossoff in Georgia, which means the Donks have the Senate. Storm that, motherfuckers.
• Update No. 3: Rep. Ilhan Omar (D-Minn.) tweets that she’s drawing up articles of impeachment against Adolf Twitler. Sounds a bit like horses and barn doors, but there has been discussion of this elsewhere as a prophylactic measure to keep the stubby ginger dick from rising again. The National Association of Manufacturers, meanwhile, called on Ha’Pence to A25 his boss’s fat ass. Yeah, good luck with that. He’s already soiled his armor.
• Update No. 4: Charlie Pierce has gone full “throw the rascal out.” And as usual, I agree. Adolf Twiter goes out on his fat ass, Ha’Pence gets to be president for a few days, and then the shovels and mops come out. Sure, maybe he wants to get tossed out, and then have Ha’Pence pardon him, a la Nixon-Ford. Still, sez Chazbo: “Leaving him in place even for an hour would be the final dereliction of duty, and we have had far too many of those. Force him out. Do it now. Complicity is its own dark reward.”
Forget about those nagging short-term problems like epidemic idiocy, creeping fascism, and the future of the Republic — what the hell’s happening with water?
And which of the three stories below do you think will get the most “likes” on Facebutt?
Shit, I forgot to squeeze a little lemon in my water. I guess I won’t live forever.
• Beauty and the boost: Hydrate your way to health! If you can find water, and can afford it once you do. Just don’t forget the lemon, dipshit.
Meanwhile, just because, here’s “There Stands the Glass,” as covered by Half Man Half Biscuit. It starts at 6:15, but you should probably listen to the other bits that precede it. Get yeer full glass mate!
Mad Blog Media 