The party of James Hodgkinson, of “Anti”-Fa, of Eric “Nuke The Gun Owners” Swalwell, of “Fight in the Streets” (VP candidate Tim Kaine and Loretta Lynch ) and punching teenage girls (Woody Kaine) and grownup girls (Keith “Thumper” Ellison) and fantasies (Madonna, Snoop Dogg, Bow Wow, MN DFL operative William “Guillotine” Davis ) and dramatizations (Kathy Griffin) about killing Republicans, of multiple dramatic and “comedic” productions featuring the violent deaths of Republicans (including Dubya and The Donald), of co-opting the same of a movement that killed “the enemy” with guns and bombs and molotov cocktails (“The #Resistance”)…
… which has just spent three years calling President Trump “literally Hitler”, and lying about his support for neo-Nazis at home (the Charlottesville slander) and his support from fascist to Brod (the fictitious Putin link”￼)￼…
… is about to nominate a candidate who literally, actively, proudly, truthfully supports people directly responsible for 100 million murders in the past century.￼￼
This is almost too far beyond satire for Berg’s Seventh Law.￼
…is upset that Representative Cal Bahr, in a bit of rhetorical flourish, urged a group of people who are, statistically speaking, 42 times less likely to commit ANY violent crime than the general public to “run over” and “stomp on”…
The dream was always the same. Set in a gray miasma straight out of Ingmar Bergman, there was not so much sight as sound; an endless clanking, like the way the radiators in her parents house used to clank and bang on the first cold day of fall, when she was a child. A shrill whining, like the badly-worn brakes on the bus she used to take to work. And behind it all, a dim chorus that sounded like hundreds of people chanting in the distance; “Si, se puede! Si, se puede! Si, se puede…”
Her eyes blinked open, alighting on the first rays of dim winter morning sun filtering through the windowshades onto the wall, reflecting wanly off the indifferently-white paint on the wall, welcoming Julia to another day.
Her foot stuck out from under the quilt – but just for the moment for Julia to register that Christ, it’s cold out here. She could barely remember feeling warm, at least not in this apartment – she shuddered at the thought of the electrical bills she was paying, had always paid, ever since 2021 when she got her first job out of college in time for the “Green New Deal” to pass. Bundle up for the planet, she thought, laconically remembering the slogans that first winter, four years ago.
She shook it out of her head and pulled her foot back under the quilt.
She heard a brief “snork” of a cough from the other half of the bed. Her boyfriend of six months, Ian Joshua Kohlman, was still sleeping. Julia thought about curling up closer to him for a little warmth, before ruefully remembering that he – who graduated the previous spring from the U of M School of Social Justice and Victimology Studies, the first class to go all the way through their master’s degree completely free of tuition, and had just been laid off from his job as an associate barrista, just wasn’t very warm. She looked at his scraggly mop of hair, gathered into a greasy man-bun at the back of his scalp, and thought “I have no idea where we’re going to make up the $15 an hour we’re losing now“, before sadly wanly hoping he’s have better luck looking for a job in his field, and life’s passion, of social justice activism through performance art, and silently doubting it, noting how little use she’d gotten from her free birth control in the past two months – partly from Ian’s depression, which his friends told Julia had always been a facet of his personality, but had gotten worse as his job search dragged on and on.
Slowly, the sounds started filtering in from the units above and below the third-floor appartment in southwest MInneapolis that Julia and Ian shared. The neighbors downstairs were chasing their three (she guessed) children around trying to get them ready for school The neighbors on the other side of the bedroom wall were apparently having a spirited argument about their toothbrushes. And the neighbors above, apparently, were Ukraining clog dancers doing their morning warmups. A couple of teenagers were bellowing at each other in the hallway outside. Through the frosty bedroom window looking out over Queen Street, an MTC bus stopped for a passenger in a wheelchair – the steady beep beep beep beep beep beep of the alarm shaking the last of her 6:30 AM cobwebs away.
Julia lay for a moment, before realizing the day wasn’t going to live itself. She mentally counted down “Three – Two – One“, and slid out from under the covers, her slim figure draped in long underwear and a sweatshirt against the cold that the quilt could never quite smother. She grabbed a top, some underwear and a pair of jeans from her closet, and two-stepped to the bathroom, shivering, turning on the water, putting her hands underneath the unsatisfying stream, waiting for just enough warmth to justify jumping out of her bed-clothes quickly, in time to warm up a bit before the stream of luke-hot hot water from the unit’s “eco-friendly” water heater turned luke-cool, then cold. She felt her opporunity, and showered and washed her hair quickly.
But not quick enough, the stream turning uncomfortably frigid as she rinsed. She gritted her teeth and finished before jumping out, drying off as fast as she could, shivering, and getting dressed.
She stepped back into the bedroom and grabbed her coat, seeing the “Che Guevara” t-shirt that, she wistfully remembered, Ian had been wearing when they met.
“No time for regrets“, she thought, pulling on her stocking cap and walking through the kitchenette. “The sink is dripping, the fridge is fridging even less well than usual, and the window insulation is leaky“, she thought, grabbing a cricket and quinoa bar, wondering what they were getting for their $1,800 a month for the one-bedroom apartment.
She fished the keys out of her purse and walked out into the hallway, the teenagers still bellowing nonsense at each other from opposite ends of the hall, and walked to the elevator, stabbing the button with her finger as the teenagers obscene chatter got faster and louder. Finally, the door opened, and she got into the car going down.
A man from a higher floor was standing in the corner of the elevator car. A vague feeling of unease tugged at the corner of her consciousness – the man, in his fifties, always smelled a little of booze and decay, and always left her feeling uneasy – a feeling that, unbeknownst to her, was utterly justified, as he leered at his young neighbor, not really worrying in his somewhere-between-drunk-and-hung-over haze if she noticed or not, as the elevator – which, although ten years old, was already showing its age – lurched to a stop on the first floor. Julia stepped out quickly, turning to walk to the lobby.
She paused for a moment, pulling her wool cap, scarf and gloves, the smells of the lobby – cooking, cigarettes and a faint waft of urine tickling the edges of her senses as they did every morning. “This was supposed to be a nice building”, Julia though – and then remembered, “It is“.
She looked out the glass door, feeling the chill radiating into the lobby from the murky dawn-ish outdoors as the stiff February breezed pushed against the building’s facade, trying to exert mother nature’s control over the high-density urban landscape. Julia thought about taking a sick day, briefly – but the reflection of the guy from the higher floor gave her the motivation to push through.
There’d been a snowstorm three days before. Julia trudged through the snow, on the sidewalk that hadn’t been shoveled since the snowstorm two days earlier. The sky was still twi-dawn dark, but promised to be clear and mercilessly post-blizzard cold, Julia though, walking down Queen to get to the bus station, walking through the single-file groove the other people on the street had left yesterday, packed and a little treacherous, walking to the Yellow Line station.
She crossed the street without thinking too hard about it – there were few cars in this inner-city neighborhood, and the little glorified lawn mowers that a few people did have, jammed into the limited parking on the “new urbanist” street, didn’t fare well on streets that hadn’t seen a snowplow yet, and likely wouldn’t – and walked up the long ramp to the train platform, which was still slick and icy from the storm, “and most likely will be until the sun melts it in a few months“, Julia thought. A couple of drunk men were loudly arguing down at the other end of the platform, as about a half dozen other people huddled against the cold, hoping to be left alone.
“Yellow Line – next train six minutes” said the LED sign, the one of three on the platform that still worked. “Great“, Julia thought, as she wedged into the plexiglas shelter and hit the “heat” button, her face briefly tilting upward, hoping for a ray or two of warmth from the french-fry-warmer style light that blinked on above, discretely trying to keep the two loud drunks just inside the corner of her vision. “Every f****ng morning“, she thought, letting the thought tail off, silently trying to scrape a piece of cricket bar off her teeth with her tongue. The platform had been getting worse and worse, even in this “good” neighborhood of southwest Minneapolis – but a wave of muggings, assaults, rapes and general bad behavior had followed the completion of the Yellow Line a few years earlier.
“Still, better than trying to drive ,or waiting on a bus“, she thought, shuddering at what some of her former co-workers had paid for parking downtown, back when there was still parking downtown.
She startled from her reverie as a Yellow Line train rounded the bend and pulled up to the platform. She pressed the door button, and the door slid open. Julia stepped inside…
…and looked, in vain, for a seat. They were all full – about half with commuters, huddled up, grateful to finally be out of the cold for the next 20 minutes; the rest with the same crowd of homeless men, sleeping, sometimes across a couple of seats. One, half-awake, smoked a cigarette, the smoke causing Julia’s throat to itch and stifle a cough. She grabbed a hold bar and held on, waiting for the train to lurch forward.
But the lurch didn’t come. The drunks stood in the doorway at the other end of the car, carrying on their argument as the wave of cold washed back over the packed commuters, the shapeless slurry of words lost in the muted wave of groaning before the drunk stepped back to the platform.
The train finally lurched forward. A mostly-empty vodka bottle rolled down the aisle – from the smell of the car, much of it had already spilled.
But for the next 90 seconds, until the train got to its next stop, there’d be a little warmth – broken eight times by the doors sliding open at each stop as the Yellow Line wended its way downtown. As the train crossed a freeway bridge, it ground to a halt. “Not again“, Julia groaned, as commuter heads shook with resigned frustration.
Finally, the train pulled into the Warehouse District station. A short, sharp eddy of wind greeted Julia as she stepped onto the platform, stripping away the little coccoon of smoky, vodka-tinged warmth of the train, as she walked toward her office, the chilly staccato of her gait mirrored by the other commuters, and contrasting with the tentative amble of the homeless and the hung over.
“Haaaaaay, you got a dollar? My sister’s car broke down, and her daughter is with her out on the freeway”, a panhandler slurred as Julia walked down the ramp.
“Sorry, no cash”, she murmured through er scarf as she moved, just a little faster.
It was a Monday. Julia, a web designer, had a big project presentation at 2PM. It was going to be a long morning.
If you are deeply, profoundly progressive, anyway.￼ . “Liberalism” and “progressivism” intersect only occasionally, if by “liberalism” you mean any of the traits that’ve made Western Civilization free, inclusive and prosperous in a way that is utterly anomalous through human history, which “progressives” most certainly do not.
What these critics lambaste as an attack on liberalism is actually its best form: the logical extension of liberalism’s core commitment to social equality and democracy, adapted to address modern sources of inequality. A liberalism that rejects identity politics is a liberalism for the powerful, one that relegates the interests of marginalized groups to second-class status.
Grotto and Arlington is one block from the rec center, where I know for a fact they have entertainment programs for youth. It’s also a couple of blocks from my house, on the east side ofComo Park.
This is not Frogtown. This is a good part of town. But now we have feral youth traveling in packs attacking citizens. And the police can do nothing about it?
When will Reverend Nancy send her hordes of orange shirt supporters into the streets to protect the elderly and frail in St Paul?
Because the longer she waits, the more likely some armed citizen will deprive the world of a future president, astronaut, or scientist destined to cure cancer, who was just beginning to turn his life around when it was tragically cut short by innocently participating in….. you know the rest.
Well, the Reverend Nancy is out of the picture; she’s moved onto electing the candidates who caused the problem.
But the larger point? At some point, “at risk youth” are going to wind up coming up against citizenry who just aren’t feeling it.
And the demagoguery – on the left, which will have to reckon with claims that it supports crime in urban blight – will be out of this world.
I’ve lived in Saint Paul for a little over three decades.
I’ve seen worse crime than the current wave. It was much worse in the mid-eighties.
One thing I don’t remember was the DFL’s frantic swishing between pollyannaism and alarm when it comes to crime.
For example, when the subject is law-abiding citizens’ Second Amendment rights, we’re told there’s a wave of violence. But when it’s…well, we just don’t know who it is, do we – then you’re raciss for bringing it up, because there’s no crime and also shut up.
Thing is, there’s crime. Five violent armed robberies in two days, earlier this week, including this episode:
A 56-year-old St. Paul man said he was out for a morning jog Monday near Como Lake when a group of teenagers came up behind him and threw him into a snowbank – all for his iPhone. He asked FOX 9 to conceal his identity for safety reasons.
“You hear about this stuff and, ‘it’s not going to happen to me,’ and it happened. I mean, I could have died,” he said.
Some of the images from his head injury are graphic, but he wants them shared so people understand how serious this problem is.
“They were punching me and kicking me and then using the billy club on my body,” he said.
Surrounded by the suspects, the victim said he tried to fight back. Eventually, they took his iPhone and hopped into a car that police say was stolen and left.
“They did beat me pretty good. I got a bunch of staples in my head and the reason I’m doing this interview is so people can be more concerned of these vicious acts going on,” he said.
Waiting to see how and why those five victims are “white supermacist” for acknowedging being attacked.
Last June, the authors, Stanton Glantz and Dharma Bhatta of the University of California San Francisco, stated in the original study that vaping and smoking cigarettes posed a similar risk, while doing both at the same time was an even more dangerous option. Following its publication in the summer, the peer-reviewed research was referenced by major news organizations, including CNN, Yahoo News, and USA Today.
In a statement explaining the retraction, editors at the Journal of the American Heart Association (JAHA) expressed worry that the study may have been based on misleading data.
“The editors are concerned that the study conclusion is unreliable,” they wrote.
JAHA pulled the paper after Brad Rodu, a tobacco control expert at the University of Louisville, noted that many of the vapers Glantz and Bhatta analyzed for the study were also current or former smokers. Rodu argued that there was a possibility that the use of combustible cigarettes is what made them more likely to suffer heart attacks
I bring this up not so much to troll the city full of puritan prohibitionists who’ve been hacking away at vaping in legislatures and city councils around the state – although I am.
Mostly, though, it’s about the wave of virtue-signaling third-rate “progressive” “thinkers” who affect “evidence-based” as their latest intellectual accessory – and don’t get the the sarcasm when you point out that the Flat Earth is “evidence-based”, if your evidence is flawed enough,.
The similarities in demographics in population between Virginia and Minnesota are inescapable. Both states are large, solid red expanses of land and people, surrounding small, densely populated democrat dominated Metropolitan areas.
And of course, both states have Democratic parties prone to going wild on orgies of spending and power grabbing whenever they get unfettered power. As the Democrats did in Virginia over the past year, driving a wave of “progressive” legislation pretty much across-the-board, but especially focusing on gun control.
And watching Virginia’s Democrats, it’s not hard to think that they might actually be a little bit calm and restrained compared to the ones we have in Minnesota, the party of Ryan Winkler and Alondra Cano and Melissa Melissa and Ilhan Omar.￼￼￼￼￼￼￼￼￼￼
It’s hard to imagine what that crew would stop at if they got unrestrained power Dash say, by flipping the Senate this fall, giving them raw, unfettered access to all the money and all the power.
This isn’t problem just for Second Amendment advocates, of course.
But Second amendment￼ advocates are among the best organized￼￼ to do something about it; I’ve been telling conservative groups for a decade that they need to learn something from the Second Amendment movement nationwide.
Four Minnesota counties – Clearwater, Marshall, Roseau and Wadena – have declared themselves “sanctuaries” for the Second amendment (some choose the term “dedicated” to avoid confusion with immigration issue – the effect is entirely the same). ￼It’s not just a symbolic statement; the resolutions include language about litigation against intrusive legislation, as well as well as demurrals from enforcing unconstitutional laws.￼. Resolutions have been introduced in three more counties – and probably a few dozen more have some degree of activity on the subject.
LIed about the goings-on at the Senate hearings in HIbbing a few weeks ago
…and was basically such a font of fodder that not only did I give her her own permanent tag, but she was granted a nearly-personal category on this blog.
From that first day to today, the “Reverend” Nord Bence has never – not once – made a statement about guns, gun laws, gun owners, gun crime, or anything about the Second Amendment that is simultaneously substantial, original and true. Her constant “false witness” about her law-abiding fellow citizens should be regarded as an abomination by her erstwhile denomination, the ELCA.
I said “should”.
But all good, loathsome-yet-risible things must come to an end. The “Reverend” is picking up and moving along:
Now, if it’s like most posts on the “Protect” MN facebook page, there’d be a better than even chance the post would be wrong, and quickly retracted, even if it weren’t a lie.
But it’s apparently as legit as anything “Protect” MN ever actually writes. The “Reverend” is going to lend her, um, “talents” to getting Democrats elected.
There are only two things we can be sure of:
Any campaign she’s involved in, outside safe urban areas (and by “safe”, I mean both for the DFL and for matronly unarmed white women to walk around in), is doomed.
“Protect” MN will hire someone even more radical to replace Nord Bence.
Adios, Nancy. You are a liar, and you never packed the gear to stand up to a rational debate, but…
…well, that pretty much covers it. Swirl away down the soilpipe of history, you sad lying hag.
Shawn Navarro, a 33-year-old Sanders volunteer in Las Vegas, refers to his favorite presidential candidate as “Tío Bernie.”
“He reminds us a lot in the Latinx community of your grandpa, or your tío,” explained Navarro after a recent Spanish-language campaign event in Nevada. “He’s kind of stern, a little grumpy at times. But, at the same time, you really know he’s looking out for you.”
Latinos, Navarro says, are tired of listening to talking points from Democrats who come to their neighborhoods, “speak a little bit of Spanish” and “eat tacos,” but then don’t deliver any real results. It’s why, he says, exit polls found that Donald Trump and Mitt Romney, “who was far less offensive,” performed roughly equally with Latinos in the 2016 and 2012 elections.
Latinos come from a part of the world that’s been fairly ravaged by socialists painting themselves as “family” for right around two centuries.
Outstate Republican legislators today unveiled a proposal to tackle urban crime, months after they first started planting political seeds about the hazards of Minnesota’s cities.
And Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey didn’t seem thrilled with the presentation.
Mayor McDreamy responded with a bit of cheap theatrics, lavishly staged for the eager cameras of the Twin Cities TV stations, as was thoroughly predictable.￼. I’m not going to plug his little tantrum here – read the link to article, in the “Minnesota Reformer”, which is to the 2020 is what the “Minnesota Monitor” was to the 2000s.￼
￼The “Reformer” being a bought and paid for “progressive” propaganda site, I’m sure its audience let this next bit – which I will emphasize – slide without much thought. Kind of like to do their politics. To wit:
GOP legislators — not a single one of whom represent either St. Paul or Minneapolis — made clear long before the session started that they were prepared to leverage urban crime to gain support in the suburbs…
So – if you don’t live in Minneapolis or St. Paul, you have no business talking about policy for either city.
Naturally, that isn’t going to be applied to people from the metro area imposing land-use, mining and gun control policies on the rest of the state. That’s just crazy talk.
When they left makes good on its goal of getting rid of the electoral college, they won’t even have to bother insulting people from outside the urban core.￼
…, despite the fact that violent crime in both cities has dropped since the early 1990s, in line with national and state trends. Reports of violent crimes reached a 28-year low in Minneapolis in 2018, and an all-time low in St. Paul in 2019,Minnesota Reformer previously reported.
So – when the subject is urban crime, the cities are safe Dash but when the subject is law abiding citizens with guns, then the streets are running red with blood?
The problem, of course, is that the Democrat base can’t be bothered with , and most cases has never learned, the sort of critical thinking that would allow them to read this sort of twaddle and think “who do these people think we are? Idiots?”￼
[1[ It’s come to my attention that Twitter links frequently disappear from some browser. Technicians are working on it. And by “working on it”, I mean “Jeez all friday, WordPress, did you ever screw the pooch with this last bunch of patches”.
A group of Minnesota House Democrats introduced a bill this week that would require restaurants to serve certain drinks as the “default beverage” for children’s meals. The bill was introduced Tuesday by Reps. Jeff Brand (DFL-St. Peter), Samantha Vang (DFL-Brooklyn Center), and Rob Ecklund (DFL-International Falls). Under the bill, all Minnesota restaurants would be required to make the “default beverage” included with children’s meals either water or sparkling water, unflavored milk, or a nondairy milk alternative that contains “no more than 130 calories” per serving.
President Trump is going to Daytona. Oh, he has GOT to do the burn-out at the end of the lap, like the race drivers do. You know his car can do it. And the Secret Service driver would love it. And while it’s happening, play Trump’s voice over the loudspeaker, “Hey folks, THIS is how Daytona feels the burn!” The man is running like he means it. Why not have some fun while you take a shot at the opposition?
A dozen masked, hooded, armed “Anti”-Fa thugs attack a citizen journalist in Olympia, Washington.
This is graphic and very upsetting:
Video recorded by antifa writer Shane Burley shows the mob harassing, assaulting & pepper spraying local citizen journalist Brandon Brown. Brown was attacked & robbed by antifa militants for recording them in Olympia, Wash. in December. https://t.co/jC6I7aRcVspic.twitter.com/flERgVLfKm
As we noted earlier this week, Roseau County became Minnesota’s first Second Amendment Sanctuary county.
And you just knew the “Reverend” Nancy Nord Bence wouldn’t take long for an…
…er, “interesting” take on the situation.
But she pretty much outdid herself on Twitter:
Local anti-gun group Protect Minnesota claims that the Rouseau County Commissioners were “bullied by the gun lobby” into establishing “basically organized lawlessness” when they voted to become Minnesota’s first Second Amendment Sanctuary County earlier this week.
The county commission was “bullied”? Huh. Sounds serious. Was there anything to “Protect” MN’s claim?
Sheesh. It’s the “Reverend” Nancy Nord Bence. We’ve been through this before, right?
A Roseau County Commissioner left a comment on “Protect” MN’s Facebook page:
Roseau County Commissioner John Horner replies in a comment to Protect Minnesota about their completely made-up, misinformed post that the “gun lobby” somehow “bullied” the Roseau County Commissioners into passing a Second Amendment “Sanctuary” declaration. pic.twitter.com/cj2vp9Qcc5
What concerns me here is this: leftists pretty much up and down the food chain, from Nancy Pelosi down to “Reverend” Nord Bence, have learned that their constituency just doesn’t do critical thinking. If they say something, they know there’s not going to be anyone catching them after the rally trying to check them on any of it.
BIg Left is building a legion of the invincibly ignorant.
And while it’s not working in Roseau County, the post about Roseau County wasn’t aimed at rural Minnesota. It’s aimed at trying to keep the hordes of people in the third ring suburbs who voted DFL terrified.
The resolution, passed unanimously to applause from the dozen residents in attendance, reads that the board “wishes to express opposition to any law in the future, beyond existing laws to date, that would unconstitutionally restrict the rights of the citizens of Roseau County to keep and bear arms.” The motion goes on to resolve that “public funds of the county not be used to restrict the Second Amendment rights of the citizens of Roseau County, or to aid federal or state agencies in the restriction of said rights.” Roseau County Sheriff Steve Gust said the resolution won’t change local law enforcement’s operations, since one of the resolution’s main intents is to oppose “red flag” gun laws, which allow courts to temporarily remove guns from people who are found to be a risk to themselves or others. Red flag laws have been proposed in Minnesota but not passed.
Look for more of this in Greater Minnesota in coming months.
While the measures are mostly symbolic – for now – they do show gun voters statewide the seriousness of the choices in this upcoming election. In 2020, if the DFL takes the Senate, this state will make Virginia look like Wyoming.
“This meeting of the State Committee for National Security will come to order. First item of business, a report on biological warfare research. Minister? Minister? Uh, does anybody know where the Minister is?” “Excuse me, sir. I’m from that department.” “Who are you?” “I’m the Assistant to the Junior Deputy’s Secretary.” “Where’s everybody else?” “Dead, sir. Or missing.” “WHAT? What’s going on in your department?” “Well, sir, we used gene splicing to engineer a virus targeted at a specific racial group and the lab tests went so well that we needed a larger scale test. The plan was to release the virus in an enemy city but the scientist carrying the vial got car-jacked and the vial shattered.” “Has the population been quarantined so they don’t spread it?” “Too late for that, sir. Most of the infected fled the city before the quarantine was announced. They’re currently spreading the virus around the globe.” “How bad is it?” “Well, sir, that depends on who you ask. Our official press releases claim the virus is less deadly than influenza, hardly anybody is infected and practically nobody has died.” “Well, that’s a relief.” “Yes, sir, that’s why we said it. The truth is we have no idea how many people are infected and no treatment for those who are. Millions could die.” “Excuse me, I’m sorry to interrupt, Mr. Chairman, I just have to ask this young man: Are You Insane? Did you actually attempt to genetically engineer a virus to target a race?” “Yes, we did. Why?” “Because race is merely a social construct. There’s no such thing as race. We’re All Going to Die!” “In that case, sir, motion to adjourn.” Joe Doakes
Senator Klobuchar, fresh off having a third-place finish in a decreasingly important primary hailed like the victory march in Paris by a local who has acted like her personal PR firm ever since they were all getting pass-out drunk with her father, has this to say about gun control:
During the first 2020 Democratic primary debate, Minnesota Sen. Amy Klobuchar said if there is a mandatory buyback, it would not involve gun confiscation.
“Gun confiscation, right, if the government is buying back, how do you not have that conversation?” moderator Chuck Todd asked.
“Well, that’s not gun confiscation because you give them the offer to buy back their gun,” Klobuchar said
Oh. It’s just a buyback.
OK. Not selling.
They never answer this one directly, do they?
I may have to go to one of her “town halls” and ask her directly.
Oh, yeah – she said this:
“I look at these proposals and I say, ‘Does this hurt my uncle Dick and his deer stand?’ coming from a proud hunting and fishing state? These ideas don’t do that,” she added.
If her “Uncle Dick” is stupid enough to believe they won’t be coming for his precious dear rifle when, not if their current round of “gun safety” laws fail to make anyone safer, then Dick might just be a lifelong DFLer anyway.
After the New Hampshire Democratic debate on Friday night, MSNBC host Chris Matthews uttered high heresy against the Bernie Sanders movement by remembering the Cold War and the threat of socialist and communist executions. He warned that if Cuban dictator Fidel Castro and the Reds had won the Cold War, “there would have been executions in Central Park, and I might have been one of the ones getting executed.” As if to demonstrate the truth of this statement, Bernie Bros got #FireChrisMatthews trending on Twitter…”A lot of this will be sorting this out if the Democratic Party runs a socialist candidate. That’s a change to the Democratic Party,” Matthews continued. He did not condemn the expansion of social programs, which he firmly distinguished from socialism. “The Democratic Party’s been to the left of the Republican Party on the issue of mixed capitalism, more social programs. They push Social Security, Medicare, Medicaid, enormously popular programs. I think ACA/Obamacare, I wish they’d follow through with it, make it work. I think most Americans would be happy with … a public option” in health care.
Watch for burnings of The Gulag Archipelago and 1984 before too terribly long.
I got caught up in one of KSTP-AM’s constant rounds of staff reductions on April 4, 1987. I was 24, and very much in love with the idea of finding a career in a medium I’d discovered less than two years before, talk radio. Especially the conservative wing of it – as a newly-minted Reagan voter as of age 21, I had that newbie zeal that tries so, so very hard to make up for lack of experience and information. Speaking of inexperience and naivete, I was pretty new to and green in the world of big-market radio – especially to the process of trying to find a job in the field, without moving to Saint Cloud to play country western radio.
I thought I had a couple of leads, though; a station in Raleigh was interested in me even as I left the station. Others in Orlando, Waukegan, Fall River Massachusetts, Hammond Indiana, Cleveland and Santa Rosa California would come up in the next few months.
But one by miserable, painful one they all dried up, one after the other. A few changed formats. A few changed management.
But most of them, given a choice between paying a 24 year old kid $20-30K a year to work afternoons or evenings, or getting national-level talent for free via satellite, went with the new, cheap, national offering…
…by a fellow named Rush Limbaugh.
Gradually yet blazingly quickly, Limbaugh’s mid-day show ate up hundreds of jobs that might have gone to a kid like me – and prompted hundreds more struggling AM stations to flip formats, ditching country-western or polka or oldies for the new, newly deregulated field of conservative political talk.
And it brought an audience. And sponsors. And, almost against many stations’ wills, ratings and money.
I remember management at a couple of stations fairly visibly holding their noses and solemnly declaring “Limbaugh doesn’t reprsent this station’s entire point of view” out one side of their mouths, while eagerly cashing the bonus checks that his ratings, and those of his format-mates, brought them.
For twenty years, until the 2007 recession cut the guts out of the radio ad market, it was like a license to print money. I remember meeting an old friend from our time at KDWB who’d landed at KSTP. He was figuring out what he was going to spend a five-digit bonus check, over double what I’d ever earned in a year at that station even after adjusting for inflation, on. Even after the meltdown in rates, Limbaugh’s dominance and prosperity, and that of conservative talk, endured – or at least better than any other segment of entertainment radio other than sports and Spanish.
Rush Limbaugh didn’t dominate an industry. He created it – and saved the AM Radio band while he was at it. Matt Continetti points out that he was the right guy in the right place at the right technological, ideological and regulatory time:
It’s one thing to excel in your field. It’s another to create the field in which you excel. Conservative talk radio was local and niche before Limbaugh. He was the first to capitalize on regulatory and technological changes that allowed for national scale. The repeal of the Fairness Doctrine in 1987 freed affiliates to air controversial political opinions without inviting government scrutiny. As music programming migrated to the FM spectrum, AM bandwidth welcomed talk. Listener participation was also critical. “It was not until 1982,” writes Nicole Hemmer in Messengers of the Right, “that AT&T introduced the modern direct-dial toll-free calling system that national call-in shows use.”
Limbaugh made the most of these opportunities. And he contributed stylistic innovations of his own. He treated politics not only as a competition of ideas but also as a contest between liberal elites and the American public. He also added the irreverent and sometimes scandalous humor and cultural commentary of the great DJs. He introduced catchphrases still in circulation: “dittohead,” “Drive-By media,” “feminazi,” “talent on loan from God.” The template he created has been so successful that the list of his imitators on both the left and right is endless. Even Al Franken wanted in on the act. Dostoyevsky is attributed with the saying that the great Russian writers “all came out of Gogol’s ‘Overcoat.’” Political talk show hosts came out of Limbaugh’s microphone.
And for those who weren’t around back then, he was, and remains, a connection to an era where real, Buckley-style conservatism changed the world – with the hope it could change it again:
[Limbaugh] took from Reagan the sense that America’s future is bright, that America isn’t broken, just its liberal political, media, and cultural elites. “He rejected Washington elitism and connected directly with the American people who adored him,” Limbaugh said after Reagan’s death. “He didn’t need the press. He didn’t need the press to spin what he was or what he said. He had the ability to connect individually with each American who saw him.” The two men never met.
Limbaugh assumed Reagan’s position as leader of the conservative movement. In a letter sent to Limbaugh after the 1992 election, Reagan wrote, “Now that I’ve retired from active politics, I don’t mind that you have become the Number One voice for conservatism in our Country. I know the liberals call you the most dangerous man in America, but don’t worry about it, they used to say the same thing about me. Keep up the good work. America needs to hear ‘the way things ought to be.’”
Limbaugh gave a voice to a half of the country that’d always been expect to shut up and listen.
And for me? He supplied my life a major, inconvenient, and ultimately life-changing detour – and built an industry for me to come home to when the time was right.