The film directors of NAZA, a Jewish-Israeli documentary, have given us the Eichmanns of Israel—IDF mezzanine-level managers of mass murder—under the shield of anonymity, for a mainstream, entertainment-industry prize …
Ilana Mercer, a widely published paleolibertarian author, essayist and theorist, has been writing up an anti-war, anti-woke storm since 1998, starting in Canada. On arriving in the US, in 2002, her weekly column was right away syndicated. Mercer’s national syndication fell through shortly after due to writing in strident opposition to the war in Iraq. ILANA is described as “a system-builder. Distilled, her modus operandi has been to methodically apply first principles to the day’s events.” She’s Jewish, grew up in Israel ages five to nineteen, and left, at 19, decades back, never to return. She had refused to serve in the IDF, Israel’s compulsory military. Ilana’s focus since October of 2023 has been the genocide.
“Trump is a second-rate gangster and he hates it. He wants to be Bibi.” ~ilana
“Surely, you don’t need mommy to tell you that murder is more than a secondary personality trait? It defines who a person is. It tends to crowd out all other positive attributes. If that’s not obvious, think of Oscar Wilde’s simple guidelines for cretins: ‘Murder is always a mistake. One should never do anything that one cannot talk about after dinner.'” ~ilana
“The fuss and feathers over Trump’s foreign policy is silly, childish. It attests to what happens to the minds of men when they view the very public mass murder of The Other—committed by their Leader—as unrelated to their own moral integrity and future welfare: the brain goes to mush. Or perhaps it was the size of a lentil to begin with.
In the mind of the minimally moral, minimally compos mentis American—”America First” and genocide ought to be two mutually exclusive categories.
Here’s a useful clue: If your politician of choice, going into an election, supports genocide or is silent about genocide; he’s not your friend. You ought to be smart enough, in possession of the very basic moral faculties—having reached a rudimentary development of conscience—to make that minuscule determination.
Has mommy not taught you that murder is wrong and that no mass murderer and congenital thief is your friend? Alas, the decay of the American Mind is such that Trump’s fans are apoplectic—and one or two has texted me in tears: “America First, Ilana; what-oh-what has happened to it?” …
…. That his phlegmatic followers now whinge and whine over Trump’s lackluster America-First focus is really quite puzzling, if not contemptible. It’s like complaining—not that serial killer Ted Bundy killed a lot; but that he was unpatriotic for driving around in a Volkswagen Beetle.
Bundy and Trump, Joe Biden and Bibi Netanyahu, and their minions, are murderers all. Murder is what defines them; it’s their defining feature. Except that the last three delegated mass murder to the mercenaries of a military. Bundy did the deeds himself.
Surely, you don’t need mommy to tell you that murder is more than a secondary personality trait? It defines who a person is. It tends to crowd out all other positive attributes. If that’s not obvious, think of Oscar Wilde’s simple guidelines for cretins: “Murder is always a mistake. One should never do anything that one cannot talk about after dinner.” …
… “Genocide for Israel” is Trump’s de facto Middle East foreign policy.
Impoverished heroic Houthis of Yemen Trump has murdered beginning in 2018: The House of Trump in partnership with the House of Saud. Iranians Trump has helped murder. Somalis and Nigerians Trump has been murdering. Sailors in vessels, on the Caribbean and Eastern Pacific, no due process required: them, too, Trump has murdered. All this with nary a meaningful check on executive power from the dullards serving in the world’s “greatest” deliberative bodies, the US Congress and Senate.
And now Venezuelans, ordinary men and women, scan the skies nervously for the telltale metallic shimmer, wondering whether they are being simply surveilled from above, or targeted by Hellfire missiles. …
… Genocide, the crime of all crimes, was Trump’s gateway crime. Once you’ve crossed over to genocide, the world (and its people) is your oyster. …
… And his fans expected Trump to compartmentalize the killer-within and keep to his America-First promise? Are they dense? …
As to Venezuela: Trump knows nothing about the anti-imperial spirit of the Bolívar Revolution still animating Latin America. … … Trump’s handlers, only marginally smarter than he, tell him to say stuff that makes him seem in-the-know. So, Trump stammers about The Monroe Doctrine and the imperative to make errant Latin America submit to America (much like Arabia bows to Bibi).
Trump’s Other Handlers have yet to hand Trump his marching orders. But they’re happy. On Israel’s ILTV …”
Do the right thing in support of much-besieged work which adheres to Christian duties flouted by your leaders. And, do so publicly. Anon is fine. Here is an example of the kind of weasel letters I get (after each piece)—have got for decades—which, as nice as it is, does no good. Preaching to the choir is worse than useless:
The American Conservative: From Pitchfork Pat to The Crunchy Con Castrate
The Rob Stove article, recently posted here on BAB, reminded me that I hadn’t thought of Rod Dreher (Old Dreary) in many months. I thought I’d check up on him. I know he’s living in Hungary now. He’s divorced, or about to be. Upon investigation, it turns out he’s on his own now, no longer under the auspices of The American Conservative (TAC), a lone blogger. Perhaps Dreher’s February exit from TAC was hastened by a piece he wrote last December, after he’d recently discovered (courtesy of a lefty doxxer) that his father (deceased for several years now) had once been in the KKK.
The normal semi-public figure, on learning such a thing, might put out a short statement: “This was a shock to me. I certainly never knew of it. I’m not now, nor have I ever been a Klansman or a fellow traveler, etc.” Something like that.
My G-d, this creep posted a 9400 word screed, an anxiety attack directly from the heart to the blog. I scrolled through it, reading fair-sized chunks, more than enough to get the point. The thing just went on and on, and often strayed from the (putative) central topic. All this hand-wringing self-pity. All Virtue signaling, with the obligatory reminders about how wise the great Christian (he wasn’t) MLK was. How he, Dreary, had moved back to Louisiana to be with his family 12 years earlier to help them out and to be helped. But they were mean to him, they rejected him, and he went on at length about how their meanness eventually destroyed his marriage. Like he couldn’t screw it up on his own. Oh, the horror. An endless hissy fit, replete with spluttering lines like, “I thought he was a horrible reactionary whose judgment could not be trusted on anything.” You say that word “reactionary,” Mr Dreher, like it’s a bad thing.
I mean, you don’t say the things he said about his family and put it out there for public consumption. It should be a private matter. Share it with a confidant, if you must. Talk to the family directly—and privately. Don’t squeal on and on about how awful your family is and put it out there for the whole world to see.
Apparently, the family mostly hates him—down to the aunts and uncles and cousins. Even the dead don’t have much use for the guy (although Dreher makes use of them; posting a hazy image of his late father, as he lay dying). Gee, I wonder why.
After reading large portions of Dreher’s apologia, a line from an old war movie, “The Bridges of Toko-Ri,” came back to me, viz., “Where do we get such men?” Irony very much intended. What does it say about TAC, that they would publish such melodramatic tripe? They’ve come a long way from Pitchfork Pat to the Crunchy Con. You’d think conservatism’s flagship publication might stand up for traditional values, e.g., honor, personal responsibility, family loyalty, toxic masculinity, etc. You’d at least think that the material they publish was—and it’s a low bar these days—conservative. But, then, TAC didn’t even stand up for their founder, Mr. Buchanan.
TITAN’S SUBMERSIBLE’S CEO STOCKTON RUSH, RIP, once declared that he,
“[D]idn’t hire ’50-year-old white guys’ with military experience to captain his vessels because they weren’t ‘inspirational.’ Stockton Rush, 61, added that … ‘anybody can drive the sub’ with a $30 video game controller.
OOPS. A bum’s rush.
“Speaking to CBS News in November,” Reports RT, “Rush explained that the vessel was entirely controlled with a generic bluetooth video game controller, which online sleuths discovered had a dismal reputation for reliability.”
From Matt Walsh—who else?—comes turgid psychoanalysis in the service of mindless WORSHIP. WORSHIP without distinction.
In a burst of Randian emotionalism, Mr. Walsh, an unsupple mind, rushed to praise adventure tourism in general, and the OceanGate submersible’s Titanic-bound endeavor, in particular.
Walsh scolded any who dared to be cynical—as I am of the masses who flock to, say, Mount Everest, turning Base Camp into a vast latrine, and making waste removal a major source of employment for local Nepalese and neighboring Chinese. Yes, how ennobling an industry is that for The Other.
Noble spirit? “Bold and daring” on the Everest? No. Crass, despoiling tourism.
Nevertheless, scold Matt Walsh pules on tediously about critics:
These are people whose envy and dissatisfaction with their own mediocre, unimpressive lives have driven them to despise anyone who does anything different, bold, or daring. They take pleasure in failure because they will never have any successes of their own to celebrate.
The lives of Lilliputians like you and me dwarf compared to the grand life of CEO and pilot Stockton Rush, RIP, says Walsh.
A submersible carrying five people to the Titanic imploded near the site of the shipwreck and killed everyone on board, authorities said Thursday, bringing a tragic end to a saga that included an urgent around-the-clock search and a worldwide vigil for the missing vessel.
Coast Guard officials said during a news conference that they’ve notified the families of the crew of the Titan, which had been missing since Sunday.
The sliver of hope that remained for finding the five men alive was wiped away early Thursday, when the submersible’s 96-hour supply of oxygen was expected to run out and the Coast Guard announced that debris had been found roughly 1,600 feet (488 meters) from the Titanic in North Atlantic waters.
“This was a catastrophic implosion of the vessel,” said Rear Adm. John Mauger, of the First Coast Guard District.
UPDATE II: For their abysmal endeavor, the anti-white ageist brainiacs of the OceanGate submersible used Carbon Fiber, rather than a metal that withstands compression. NASA engineers helped them. Systemic, institutional rot. Ridding the system of the best engineers is a bummer.
As our reader points out in Comments, you would not see a brother, rich or poor, board such a “Hold My Beer” piece of engineered crap, assembled with parts as good as you get from Home Depot, in a basement—OceanGate workshop pics indeed do depict steps descending into what looks like a garage.
However, absent those old, musty, white men, the atmosphere was of giddy exuberance. So, there’s that.
