July 11, 2016

Recant and Decant..

Firstly, this bit of click bait agitprop from a slavering left-wing/liberal psuedo-blog. You Google/Bing it; I don't want to give them the traffic:
"BLACK LIVES KILL."

Those were the three words that blared across the Drudge Report early Friday morning after five Dallas police officers were killed in a horrific ambush attack.

And immediately upon seeing the race-baiting headline, conservatives rebelled against a once reliable ally who has become more and more divisive to them over the course of the 2016 campaign.

“In moments like these, we should do the opposite of what Drudge is doing,” Commentary Magazine Editor Noah Rothman wrote on Twitter.

“Responsible reporting as always,” sarcastically tweeted Jeff Blehar, from the popular Ace of Spades blog.

Others piled on.

Allahpundit, an influential anonymous conservative blogger, skewered the site for a subsequent banner headline claiming a “black power group” had claimed responsibility for the attack.

“Dallas chief says suspect told them before he died that he wasn’t part of a group,” the blogger wrote.

And David French, the National Review writer who flirted with a third-party presidential run, went as far as to say that he had deleted the Drudge Report app from his phone.
Those of us who are "DeadAir" (née Hot Air) expatriates will recognize the Murderer's Row of writers and bloggers this rag has listed. They are almost all GOPe kneepad wearing #NeverTrumpers whose "conservative" credentials run to such staunch values as open borders, bending over the middle class and giving them the "Big Umbie" (see note 1 below) over bad trade deals and visas to immigrants who take bone fide jobs from Americans because the former will work for a fraction of what the latter will work for. And they universally decry Trump as a viable candidate and are actively (if not militantly working to get Hilliary Clinton to either protect their own comfy job situations and zit-covered posteriors while simultaneously trying to build up the "I told you so" mantra should Donald Trump loses to the serial felon.

So, truthfully, they all can separately and collectively:

(1) Suck rucks
(2) Pound sand
(3) Kiss my ass
(4) All of the above.

On to the matters at hand:

You may or may not know that I have no love for Hugh Hewitt, talk show host over at KRLA 870 in Los Angeles and twon Hall commentator. I call him "Huge Hewittless" and/was generally turned off by his smugness and GOPe/DC insider ruminations. Basically, he used to have folks like Lindsay Graham and Paul Ryan on his show and they'd "gluck" away (see note 2 below) about how important responsible conservatism was, all the while entertaining Hewitt's sycophantic callers ("Hugh, you're the greatest; I listen to your show all the time") BUT! BUT! But, I cannot let this expression of common sense by Mr Hewitt go unpunished.
No doubt, I’ve had a few collisions with Trump during this campaign season. But conservatives expect candor about the choice ahead of us, and the prospect of another President Clinton, especially a Clinton who is so mired in scandal, compromised on national security and is the author of so many foreign-policy meltdowns, has a way of concentrating the mind. For the good of the country, Republicans have to be clear about the binary choice in front of us, close ranks around Trump and encourage him to eschew the frivolous and move ahead with a serious message.
So, while I still am not BFF with Mr Hewitt nor do I consider him my homey, I will say that I admire his clarity and sense of purpose; his sentiments serve to provide a stark contrast to those who still have not come to terms with the dichotomy of choice and the serious consequences we face should Clinton be elected.

On the other hand, there is the matter of my former hangout and central blog-of-residence, Hot Air, being run by Ed Morrissey. Now, I like Ed ever since I e-mailed him one afternoon in 2006 and asked if I might be allowed posting privileges on his blog. I received a very nice reply (and the requested privileges) and a nice conversation ensued. I found that he had once been a denizen of nearby Cerritos, California (on the border between Orange and Los Angeles counties) and that he had once held an amateur radio license (which is one of my passions). My feelings for Hot Air were overwhelmingly warm and, as I proceeded to comment, I became enamored of the wit, wisdom, and warmth of my fellow commenters. It is fair to say from that day up until February of this year, there developed a fraternal relationship between all of us. We were brothers and sisters -- family, if you will -- and shared in our joys and sorrows, births, deaths, and life's events.

Then came the great falling out of February 2016.

Ed came on the air and unceremoniously advised us that Hot Air was changing to the Facebook commenting system and out exclusive brotherhood was to be thrown open to the brigands, jackals, and Visigoths at the gate waiting to gain entrance to sack, rape, pillage, and otherwise soil the pristine and hallowed enclave we so enjoyed. While we protested, Ed basically told us that's the way things were and we could pound sand.

Now, in general, he was within his rights to do that. It was his blog (for the most part) and we were just guests. But we felt that we were what drove that blog to the greatness it achieved and he was beholden to us to some degree. At least a little more courtesy could have been observed. But, to make a long story short, that was that and most of us made the trip over to Hot Gas, an instantly-erected and wonderfully efficient haven for us vets. The efforts of Constantine XI, King Jester, Fossten, Doomberg, and others have provided us with a cozy home for our family.

But to say again more clearly: this is not the reason I feel so badly about Hot Air; Ed can do what he wants. However, I lament what it has become: a virtual sewer of #NeverTrumpers, Anti-Trumpers, the aforesaid Visigoths, Eeyores, and general ne'er-do-wells with no pedigree or background that render their meaningless bleatings sans wit and wisdom. Alec Guinness said it best when describing Mos Eisley Space Port, "..a wretched hive of scum and villainy". Moreover, of the three remaining mainstays of that site -- Ed, the hapless Allahpudit, and Jazz Shaw -- only Jazz is worth reading. The other two have lapsed into morose mewlings about the sad state of affairs because Donald Trump is the [presumptive] GOP nominee. Their themes are #NeverTrump 24/7 and their writing (particularly Ed's) are sentimental longings for the good old days of "W" and the GOPe. Ed's former keenness and analytical skills in dissecting the bullshit Obama economic stats and bullshit opinion push polls have now been turned on the now-a-days polls, based on outdated 2012 polling paradigms such as over-weighting Dems by as much as 10-12 points when enthusiasm and turnout seems to indicate otherwise.

Basically, I cannot stand Hot Air because it has become "Eeyoreville" and "The coming apocalypse in November" and "I will have told you so". My few, infrequent visits over there are painful -- particularly when you look at the FB single-digit comment counts for writers who used to routinely garner responses in the hundreds if not thousands.

So there you have it: one person has winnowed his way back in my good graces and a former friend has left them. I am sure neither are losing any sleep over my new regard for them.

But we soldier on, don't we?

Notes
(1) I had a fraternity brother at UCLA named Danny Wexler who, among other gags and goofs, would respond to questions like, "So, Danny, how'd you do in your Poli Sci mid-term?" but saying,. "Agggggh! I took the big umbie!" When asked to explain, he said that it was the academic equivalent of bending over, having the professor jam an unopened umbrella where the sun doesn't shine, and THEN open it up before removing it. Your mileage may vary.

(2) Glucking is generally done at a GOPe soiree where #NeverTrumpers gather -- usually at some posh country club out on the back lawn in the early evening -- and sip Chablis and pound down Brie while mewling and crying that it appears that the absolutely horrid Donald Trump will be the nominee and that he will bring along all of the great unwashed boors amd mouth-breathing proles along with him if elected. You know, like Andrew Jackson did? After a time, they become a little tipsy and they tilt their heads back (cf. Tom Wolfe's description of Felicia Bernstein in is essay, Radical Chic) that their epiglottises fall back into their esophaguses and they all start making this "GLUCK, GLUCK" sound when they talk.

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