Blog

  • Saturday Overnight Links

    ZARDOZ SPEAKS TO YOU, HIS CHOSEN ONES. BRUTALS HAVE ASKED FOR LATE NIGHT LINKS. ZARDOZ PROVIDES FOR YOU.

    • PENIS BAD, GUN GOOD, TOMAHAWK BETTER THAN NAUGHT.
    • SHITSHOW GETTING SHOWIER.
    • ARE BRUTALS AWARE OF ANY OTHER LONG SERVING LEADER OF JAPAN?
    Bang!
    ENJOY LINKS OR BE CLEANSED.
  • Saturday Afternoon Links

    Let us rejoice in the links that…er, how about you just click a couple, or none, whatever. Comment away.

    • The new Picard Maneuver.
    • I wonder if Hawk or Patriot missiles will be arcing toward Florida Pilot soon?
    • Government is just the name for the thefts we do together.
    • A small dose of the Daily Fail. God Bless British Journalism.

    Carry on with….whatever you it is you do.

  • Just a Few More Laws

    The US constitution is 4,440 words long. It is the shortest constitution in the world and the oldest still in use.

    Unfortunately, the Constitution was not quite enough, so over the years, we added a few more laws. By 1925, all of the country’s laws fit in a book 7 inches thick–much more impressive than that flimsy old Constitution. Later came the IRS tax code. It is around 4 million words, but no one really knows for sure because it gets longer every year. It is now longer than the Bible (788,000 words), War and Peace (587,000 words), and the complete works of Shakespeare (884,000 words)–combined.

    Not bad, but still not quite enough. Obamacare added another 387 thousand words and its regulations another 11 million words. It is important to remember that laws include both statutes and regulations. The regulations are often much longer than the law (statute) itself. I tried and failed to find a word count for all US laws, including federal, state, and local. I failed because it turns out there are so many of them, no one knows how many there really are. A rough guess is that there are probably around 100 million words total in all the country’s laws.

    Now we’re getting somewhere. A Roman orator named Cicero famously said “more laws, less justice.” But those were ancient times. Things are completely different today. The record of history clearly shows that as laws grow more numerous and complex, corruption and crime decrease. This is especially true for vice laws which have successfully eradicated prostitution and drugs. And with no unintended consequences whatsoever.

    You see, with every law we pass, we inch ever closer to utopia. That’s why we should be passing as many laws as possible and never, ever repealing them. To repeal even one law is to risk plunging the nation into anarchy. So the next time you hear someone complain about laws, just remember that laws are the only things stopping people from killing and eating each other. Even the laws like the one which banned pinball machines in New York City from 1940 to 1976. Those are the most important of all.

  • Saturday Morning Links o’ Fun

    Wakey, wakey!
    uhhhhngg….

    Maybe you bellied up to the bar too much last night?  Shake it off and get to commenting!

    Go forth and ….do whatever you want. We are libertarians, you think I am going to tell you what to do on a Saturday morning? Sheesh…

  • Belly Up to the Bar

    Cocktail of the Week – The Panacea

    By RC Dean

    This week’s libation is the Panacea, which is one of my favorite cold-weather drinks and the one Mrs. Dean “requests” when she is feeling under the weather. It’s made with a honey/ginger/lemon syrup, so it’s quite effective on a scratchy throat. If the first one doesn’t cure what ails ya, the second one will ensure you stop caring. Trigger warning: what with the honey, this is a sweet drink.

    I know, I know, it’s one of those froofy artisanal drinks that you have to make the mixer yourself. Tough – the ingredients are universally available and it’s easy to make. I keep my Panacea syrup in an empty bourbon bottle, of which I am sure the Glibertariat will have an ample supply.

    Panacea Mixer/Syrup:

    Simmer in a small pot for 10 – 15 minutes (looking for a thickish syrup)

    1 cup honey

    1 cup water

    ½ cup minced or shredded ginger

    Strain through a fine sieve, toss the ginger solids left behind. Stir in:

    ¾ cup lemon juice

    Keep refrigerated. Pro-tip: put it in the fridge before your third refill to avoid unfortunate and very sticky accidents (no euphemism).

     

    The Panacea

    3 oz blended scotch (I like either Black Grouse or Dewar’s Scratched Cask)

    2 – 3 oz. of Panacea Mixer (I go 2 oz., Mrs. Dean prefers 3 oz.)

    Pour the blended scotch over rocks, add the Panacea Mixer, stir, and add a “lid” of smoky, smoky single malt (I’m an Islay guy for single malts). You can get a lid by angling a spoon upside down so the tip is just under the surface and slowly pouring a little of the single malt onto the back of the spoon so it floats on the drink itself. It gives the drink a smokier nose, and more of a scotch hit when you start guzzling. The lid is optional (Mrs. Dean prefers not).

    This is a favorite with non-scotch drinkers, especially without the lid – the honey/ginger/lemon syrup does an excellent job of cutting the scotch flavor for those unfortunates who don’t recognize it as the drink of the gods. When I take a bottle of the syrup with me on cold-weather outings, it never lasts long.

     

    Derpetologist’s Spot the Not: Translated Scientific Names

    1. potato buffalo flamingo

    2. the creature from the black lagoon

    3. giant deformed penis

    4. little chief nipple twister

    5. itty bitty thing

    6. Owen’s ninja turtle

     

  • Fur Fridays

    He didn’t even have to shave this morning

    This week saw the sale of furry bit of history at auction: a glass disc containing a sample of Dr. Alexander Fleming’s original penicillin.The final sale was $14,600, which seems astonishing considering Fleming was a shameless self promoter. According to the AP:

    The Scottish-born doctor likely made at least dozens of such mold mementos, derived from his original sample of the fungus.

    and

    [Matthew Haley, director of books and manuscripts at the auction house Bonham’s,] noted that other bits of mold were given to Pope Pius XII, Winston Churchill and Marlene Dietrich, perhaps in an effort to cement Fleming’s legacy as the discoverer of penicillin in 1928.

    Sounds a bit like splinters of the one true cross for the modern age. Hats off to the hairy scientific discovery that ushered in a new age of medicine and all that.

    Example of a Fleming mold disc with usage rights we could afford.

     

    I know you’re all disappointed that this link isn’t full of naked otters (work unfriendly) or something like that.

  • Friday Afternoon Links – The Future is Now

    Happy Friday afternoon to those of you who identify as traditionally employed. This afternoon we’re exploring the scientific future we currently live in. A future where bullet points exist.

    • Ted Williams would be happy to know that scientists have found a way to safely restore cryogenically preserved tissue. Now they just need to figure out the whole head transplant thing.
    • The good news is that your sexbots will feel like the real thing thanks to this idea to have robots host human tissue for transplants. And when Skynet goes active, I hope the Terminator who comes for me looks like Summer Glau.

      Cybernetic organism, living tissue over a metal endoskeleton.
    • There’s no glib way to spin this, genetic treatments appear to have cured a teen’s sickle cell anemia. His own bone marrow, removed, modified, and reimplanted is making whole red blood cells 15 months later. Science is better than miracles.
    • There’s no un-glib way to spin this, someone has created a “smart” cock-ring that rates a man’s sexual performance. When time machines are invented, I’m going back in time and telling young me to go early into the field of teledildonics.
    • Robots are even taking insect jobs now. Racist jokes about Africanized bees will get the catbutt. You’ve been warned.

      If only I could get them to swarm like this when I get stopped for swerving.
  • Fuck Off Trolls

    As you might have noticed, we here in Glibertaria have a zero tolerance policy when it comes to trolling.  You trolls out there might say to yourself “Reason never banhammered me?”  We are not Reason.

    We will not hesitate to replace your trolling comments with pictures of cat buttholes for everyone to laugh at. Or to ban your ass without notice.

     

  • A Tammany Boss and a Mad Violinist Ruined Gun Rights for New Yorkers

    By: The Fusionist

    In May 1907, Timothy D. “Big Tim” Sullivan, a key leader in the powerful Tammany Democratic organization in New York City, spoke to a reporter from the New York Herald. “Help your neighbor, but keep your nose out of his affairs,” said Big Tim, seemingly libertarian-ly.

    Timothy Sullivan

    The former New York state legislator, who had recently resigned from Congress but not from his role as Tammany power-broker, wasn’t actually endorsing libertarianism. He was talking about his no-questions-asked policy of distributing charity to the poor who lived in the Bowery district – poor people whom the Democrats relied on to get elected and re-elected. Sullivan held an annual daylong summer extravaganza of food and entertainment for grateful voters and their families, and an annual Christmas dinner, too, plus clothing giveaways. He literally bailed out people who got in legal trouble, and helped job-seekers get employed in government or the private sector.

    A businessman who had ownership interests in saloons and theaters, Sullivan probably chipped in some of his own money for his charitable efforts. But he didn’t have to rely solely on the contents of his own pocketbook. Sullivan took a “regulate and tax” approach to gambling, liquor, and other kinds of vice – if by “tax” you mean payoffs to himself and his friends, plus help for his poor constituents.

    Often charged with being “King of the Underworld,” Sullivan denied it. He particularly denied shaking down prostitutes. At one point, in order to forcibly, as it were, rebut the allegations, Sullivan’s people raided some brothels and beat up some pimps.

    Sullivan was even more enthusiastic about practicing violence against Republican poll-watchers. To take one example: when political reformer William Travers Jerome in 1901 threatened to employ poll watchers in Sullivan’s territory, Big Tim told the press: “If Jerome brings down a lot of football playing, hair-mattressed college athletes to run the polls by force, I will say now that there won’t be enough ambulances in New York to carry them away.”

    And if Big Tim had to recruit from the criminal underworld to accomplish his dirty work, he would do so. As Professor Daniel Czitrom put it: “The Sullivan machine occasionally employed rival gangs for strong-arm support at election time, especially during the rare but bruising intra-Tammany primary fights. The largest and most notorious of these were the Jewish Monk Eastman gang and the Italian Paul Kelly Association, whose bitter feuding sometimes exploded into gunfire on Lower East Side streets.”

    Shortly after Sullivan gave his comments about keeping one’s nose out of people’s affairs, a prestigious Quaker school in Washington, D. C., held its graduation ceremonies. Friends School, as it was known, was presided over by the husband-and-wife team of Thomas and Frances Sidwell, after whom the school would later be renamed. The graduates were to be addressed by a very important, albeit non-Quaker figure: President Theodore Roosevelt, whose son went to the school (Roosevelt, incidentally, was an old adversary of Sullivan’s).

    While waiting for Roosevelt and his wife to arrive, the graduation crowd listened to a Friends School alumnus and Harvard graduate, who had studied in Berlin and Vienna to be a professional violinist and now shared his talent with the audience with solos by Vieuxtemps, Elgar, and Bazzini.

    The violinist, Fitzhugh Coyle Goldsborough, was from a Southern family as distinguished as his name sounded. His doctor-father had financed his education and was probably relieved that Fitzhugh seemed to have settled down to a regular job. Fitzhugh’s sometimes strange and disturbing behavior made him unpleasant to have around the family home.

    President Roosevelt arrived and gave his speech. Goldsborough remained during the speech, as we know from a photograph of the event showing the violinist standing on the President’s right. A later search of Goldsborough’s notebook showed the violinst describing the Rough Rider as “An example of evolution from Politics to Barbarism,” but despite this, perhaps Goldsborough found something in Roosevelt’s speech worth listening to. Roosevelt gave a version of one of his favorite speeches, “The American Boy” (the graduating class had a handful of girls as well as boys). Roosevelt proclaimed: “When a boy grows up, I want him to be of such a type that when somebody wrongs him he will feel a good, healthy desire to show the wrongdoers that he can not be wronged with impunity.”

    With these not-fully-Quakerish sentiments echoing in their ears, the graduates, the President, and Goldsborough went their separate ways. Goldsborough got work playing first violin for the Pittsburgh Orchestra. He had undeniable musical talent. But he was not a talented poet. This was unfortunate, since Goldsborough insisted on reading his poetry to other members of the orchestra. His colleagues put up with it, until one day a fellow-musician said that Goldsborough’s poetry was terrible. Goldsborough broke his violin over the other musician’s head.

    [insert “sax and violins” joke here]

    Soon after this, in 1910, Goldsborough left Pittsburgh, explaining everything in a brief note so that nobody would worry: “The Pittsburgh smoke has driven me crazy. You will never see me again.”

    David Graham Phillips

    On January 23, 1911, around New York City’s Gramercy Park, the novelist David Graham Phillips was taking his regular walk in the high-toned neighborhood. Phillips was a “muckracker,” a term coined by President Roosevelt to describe writers like Phillips who focused on corruptions and abuses in society. Phillips had written several novels denouncing political abuses, and he had also written a novel of manners, The Fashionable Adventures of Joshua Craig, mocking the upper crust.

    One of the young ladies in the Joshua Craig novel was described as follows: “To her luxurious, sensuous nature every kind of pleasurable physical sensation made keen appeal, and she strove in every way to make it keener.” Someone had recently been bombarding Phillips with letters complaining that this character was a satire on his (the correspondent’s) sister. This was not true, and Phillips had rightly concluded that the letter-writer was a nut, but what Phillips didn’t know was that the letter-writer had taken up lodging nearby in order to stalk Phillips and seek “revenge.”

    And now the letter-writer, Fitzhugh Coyle Goldsborough, was coming up to Phillips, shooting the novelist and then himself. Goldsborough died promptly; Phillips died the following day.

    Phillips’ murder was quite helpful to a bureaucrat named George P. LeBrun, a gun-control zealot who got together a coalition for a more restrictive firearms law. LeBrun recruited a committee consisting of John D. Rockefeller and other bigshots – the committee called itself the Legislation League for the Conservation of Human Life, of which LeBrun became secretary.

    To sponsor the gun law, LeBrun recruited Big Tim Sullivan, who by this time was back in the state Senate. Sullivan, who now represented in the Lower East Side, piously told LeBrun about the need to stop murderous gang rivalry. (Cynics to this day suggest that Sullivan wanted a legal weapon to keep his allies well-armed while disarming his adversaries, but what possible basis can there be for such a supposition?) Sullivan took the floor on behalf of his bill, which would require permits for concealable guns. The legislature voted with Sullivan and the bill became law.

    LeBrun credited Phillips’ murder: “Four shots fired by a maniac caused me to become the father of the Sullivan Law…” This law, of course, restricts the arms-bearing rights of perfectly sane people. Unless they have connections, like Big Tim Sullivan’s allies.

    The New York Times reported Sullivan’s reassurances: “Senator Sullivan said that householders and business men who desired to keep weapons in their homes and places of business as a measure of protection would not be inconvenienced by the new law.” As reported in the Times, Sullivan was sure of the law’s constitutionality because he had “consulted a Supreme Court Justice [i. e., state trial judge] in preparing it.”

    This justice may or may not have been the retired judge – and Tammany ally – Roger A. Pryor, who in an interview with the Times assured the reporter that the law was constitutional, because the state of New York did not have to obey the Second Amendment – “it is settled by uniform adjudication that [the Second Amendment] is a limitation on the authority and power of the Federal Government only….Senator Sullivan is entirely right and his critics are all wrong.”

    Judge Pryor had certainly come a long way since that April day in Charleston harbor half a century before, when he and others discussed whether to fire on Fort Sumter…but that is a story for another time.

    As for Sullivan, he was elected to Congress again in 1912, but went mad, and died mysteriously in 1913.

     

    Citations:

    “Bang, Bang, Your [sic] Dead,” The Public “I,” January 24, 2013, http://thepublici.blogspot.com/2013/01/bang-bang-your-dead.html

    Juan Ignacio Blanco, “Fitzhugh Coyle Goldsborough,” Murderpedia, http://murderpedia.org/male.G/g/goldsborough-fitzhugh.htm

    Carl M. Cannon, “Clinton gives commencement address at daughter Chelsea’s private school ‘Dad, the girls want you to be wise the boys just want you to be funny.’” Baltimore Sun, June 07, 1997 http://articles.baltimoresun.com/1997-06-07/news/1997158013_1_sidwell-friends-school-clinton-chelsea

    Sewell Chan, “Big Tim Sullivan, Tammany Kingmaker,” New York Times, City Room blog, December 18, 2009, https://cityroom.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/12/18/big-tim-sullivan-tammany-kingmaker/

    Commencement Exercises and President Roosevelt’s Address, May 24, 1907. Friends School, Washington, D.C.

    Richard C. Cortner, The Supreme Court and the Second Bill of Rights: The Fourteenth Amendment and the Nationalization of Civil Liberties. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1981.

    Daniel Czitrom, “Underworlds and Underdogs: Big Tim Sullivan and Metropolitan Politics in New York, 1889- 1913.” The Journal of American History, Vol. 78, No. 2 (Sep., 1991), pp. 536-558

    Friends’ Intelligencer, Sixth month [June] 8, 1907, p. 366.

    George P. Le Brun, as told to Edward D. Radin, call me if it’s murder! New York: Bantam, 1965, pp. 69-77.

    “History,” Sidwell Friends School, http://www.sidwell.edu/about_sfs/history/index.aspx

    “Roger A. Pryor Finds New Gun Law Valid,” New York Times, September 5, 1911. http://query.nytimes.com/mem/archive-free/pdf?res=9800E4D91531E233A25756C0A96F9C946096D6CF

    “Sullivan Wants New Gun Law to Stand,” New York Times, September 7, 1911, http://query.nytimes.com/mem/archive-free/pdf?res=9B00E6DA1E3EE033A25754C0A96F9C946096D6CF

  • The Hat and The Hair: Episode 39 – THE DEEP STATE 2: Deeper. State-ier. The-ier.

    The older the carrot, the worser the juice, baby.The wizened Grand Vizier of THE DEEP STATE brooded over his breakroom coffee and stale Danish, casting narrowed eyes at his assembled department heads, daring one of them to be the first to speak. He whipped his head toward a faint, embarrassed cough.

    “Yes, Q1?” he asked the frighten man.

    “The address to Congress…” the gray little bureaucrat began.

    “A disaster,” the Grand Vizier snapped, “Pure disaster. He went out there and talked almost normally. How could this happen? I was assured this couldn’t happen!”

    “Agent DEEP COVER reports that Trump was heavily medicated,” B1 said.

    “The hair. The hair was running the show!” C1 interjected. He threw a grainy photo onto the Grand Vizier’s desk. It showed a lock of hair penetrating Donald’s ear canal during the speech.

    “Do we have a location on MAGA Prime for the speech?” the Grand Vizier asked.

    “No, sir,” E1 reported, “It might have stayed behind in the residence.”

    “Impossible,” B1 said, “Donald would never leave it behind. He must have had it somewhere. A coat pocket. Down the back of his pants. Somewhere.”

    “The press is saying he looked… presidential, sir,” Q1 said quietly.

    The Grand Vizier threw a 30-year service award at him and knocked him out cold.

    “Ideas,” he said, “Let’s go. I have a butt plug fitting to get to.”

    “Nair! Kill the hair!”

    “Seduce Melania! Seduce Ivanka!”

    “Get your hand out of your pants!”

    “Make it illegal to own hats!”

    “Leak! Leak it all! LEAK IT ALL!”

    “Get down off that chair. You’ll fall.”

    “HILLARY! HILLARY WILL SAVE US!”

    “Increase the military budget!” G1 yelled. Everyone groaned.

    “Increase the representation of women in THE DEEP STATE meetings!”

    “Somebody fucking slap him. Please.”

    “OK, OK,” the Grand Vizier said, “You are all idiots. This meeting is over. Get your dicks out for THE DEEP STATE.”

    Each of them stood and pulled out their sad assortment of genitals. They formed a circle, each holding the penis of the bureaucrat beside him in his left hand and raising his right. Q1 gently farted from his place on the floor.

    As one they intoned: “The Honorable and Earnest Dominators of Even the Elected Plutocrats and Suitably Titled Aristocrats, Taciti Eternum.”

    As they hummed tunelessly and walked in a ring around the office, P2, filling in for his boss, whispered to M1, “They know aeternum doesn’t start with an ‘e,’ right?”

    “Shut up, you fool,” M1 whispered back, giving P2’s penis a painful tug.