Hope your week was all you’d dreamed it could be. And I hope these links are to your satisfaction…






I don’t know what else to give you. That should be enough to get things rolling. If not, there’s always this wonderful song.

Hope your week was all you’d dreamed it could be. And I hope these links are to your satisfaction…






I don’t know what else to give you. That should be enough to get things rolling. If not, there’s always this wonderful song.

From the always-valuable University of Alabama Huntsville. Chart Here The downtick from last year’s El Nino continues, with February being a ginormous 0.35° above baseline. This is a surprise to folks around here (Chicago) where we experienced a stunningly mild February, but it shows once again that local isn’t global, and weather isn’t climate.
Let the pants-shitting begin.
Instagram model Erykha Ordorica is pretty damn thicc.
https://www.instagram.com/p/5pcZsoqQBE
Socialism, like the ancient ideas from which it springs, confuses the distinction between government and society. As a result of this, every time we object to a thing being done by government, the socialists conclude that we object to its being done at all. We disapprove of state education. Then the socialists say that we are opposed to any education. We object to a state religion. Then the socialists say that we want no religion at all. We object to a state-enforced equality. Then they say that we are against equality. And so on, and so on. It is as if the socialists were to accuse us of not wanting persons to eat because we do not want the state to raise grain.
― Frédéric Bastiat, The Law

Bastiat’s words have been quite obviously true from the day he wrote them, but the socialists and statists of today have laid bare their complete inability to distinguish between society and the State. The Orwellian newspeak of the modern left has rendered the distinction between the public sphere inhabited by the State and the one inhabited by culture difficult to describe. One example highlights an old semantics battle fought and won by the left. Over a decade ago, 17 year-old me struggled with the question posed in civics class: “What is the difference between civil rights and civil liberties?” A quick flip in the dictionary to “Civil Rights” yields this answer:
Personal liberties that belong to an individual, owing to his or her status as a citizen or resident of a particular country or community.
Another quick flip to “Civil Liberties” yields this answer:
rights or freedoms given to the people by the First Amendment to the Constitution, by common law, or legislation, allowing the individual to be free to speak, think, assemble, organize, worship, or petition without government (or even private) interference or restraints. These liberties are protective in nature, while civil rights form a broader concept and include positive elements such as the right to use facilities, the right to an equal education, or the right to participate in government. (See: civil rights)
Needless to say, the competition this question was based on didn’t go well for me. However, this question has stuck in my head for years. It wasn’t until studying 14th Amendment jurisprudence in law school that the answer dawned on me. There is no difference between civil rights and civil liberties . . . but there was!
In the original formulation of the 14th Amendment, the politicians and thinkers of the time split rights into three relevant categories: civil, political, and social. Civil rights were what we would recognize today as negative rights (1st Amendment, etc.). Political rights are those limited positive rights (voting rights, etc.) that are focused on the procedural aspects of running the government. Social rights are recognized as positive rights (no private discrimination, welfare, cultural identity, etc.). However, this all seemed foreign to somebody like me who had no exposure to these classic definitions. Today, they are all lumped together as civil rights, giving us libertarians no easy “handle to grasp” when discussing these issues. It would be an easy mantra for us to say “legislate civil rights, not social rights,” but the phrase has no meaning to a modern audience.
Reflecting back on Bastiat’s quote from The Law, it is clear that libertarians have just as difficult of a time separating society from the State as statists do. Many times we jump to the conclusion that the only hurdle for “goodness” or “morality” is that something should not be legislated against by the State. We’ve all heard the slur that libertarians are just libertines. Many libertarians take a weak stance (if any at all) against encroaching cultural changes. Some even hold open disdain toward participation in the “Culture War.”
This is exactly the wrong tactic to use in defense of liberty. While the abstaining libertarians spend their time and effort staying “above the fray,” the Culture War wages on beneath them, dragging them further and further away from their end goal. Prominent libertarian thinkers sprint full-speed, grasping and lunging for the elusive Libertarian Moment. All the while, they’re stuck on a bullet train headed straight for Statist Station. Without addressing the elements of our society most hostile to liberty, any handful of progress made will be fleeting, meaningless, and overwhelmed by the dump truck load of totalitarianism that has accumulated in the same duration.
Andrew Breitbart observed that politics is downstream from culture. I believe this to be very true. The statist shift we have seen in the last 100 years isn’t because politicians have tricked well-meaning citizens into supporting growth of the State. The cause and effect is flipped. Our culture has created these politicians. Only when we internalize this can we understand the importance of the Culture War. Libertarians will be nothing until we engage in evangelism, organization, disruption, and institutional control to the level that the Progressives have for the last 100 years. No standard libertarian disclaimers apply here. We need to seize the positions of power for our culture, and we need to exert our influence on society.
This feels dirty and unlibertarian. It feels downright statist. However, this is because the line between society and the State has been so blurred. We can influence culture without abandoning our principles. Usually, this is where libertarian thinkers fall flat on their face. In courting the libertarian feels, they’ll say things like: It’s as simple as challenging somebody when they mindlessly spout off about how “there should be a law!” It’s as simple as giving a few dollars to a liberty-loving non-profit that supports victims of the State. It’s as simple as teaching your children to view government with a healthy skepticism.
If the last 100 years have taught us anything, it’s that winning back liberty isn’t that simple. Liberty loving individuals aren’t ones to use the Alinskyite playbook to get our way, but we’ve been eaten alive for a century. It’s time to ratchet things up. We need to establish the organization and infrastructure required to mount a counter-assault against the Statist-held institutions of society and the State. We need to organize on local levels to make sure that things like unfair zoning, over-restrictive HOAs, and abusive eminent domain are met with protest. We need to establish a cost-effective alternative to the public indoctrination centers so that families aren’t forced to choose between sending their kids to a daily Progressive church service and having enough money to eat. We need to offer entertainment and news that is completely detached from the legacy media, especially their agenda-setting powers. We must cover events that actually matter rather than the ones personally groomed by Statist elites. We must free the studies of history, economics, and philosophy from the shackles of postmodern leftism by better promoting libertarian academicians.
The answers to many of these problems are not imminently forthcoming, but putting our fingers in our ears and chanting “shouldn’t be illegal, not my problem” is going to lead to only one place. . . totalitarian ruin. It’s not only okay for libertarians to wade into the Culture War, it’s necessary. If we don’t, we’ll wish we were only as irrelevant as we are today. Only, we won’t have the words to describe what happened.
One of my guilty pleasures is listening to Hate Radio during drivetime (and being stuck in the Chicago area, that’s a lot of time for remarkably short distances). In theory, I should be laughing equally at the remarkable stupidity of both brands of Hate Radio, but I have to admit that, at least here, Team Red seems to field radio hosts that are… well…. dull. The Team Blue Hate Radio is funnier, much less focus on the personality cult of the host and much more actual unhinged ranting.
In any case, the Team Blue Hate Radio guy in the morning seems to obsess a lot about Ronald Reagan and Reaganomics, especially how this drives today’s events. Now, despite the fact that Reagan left office almost 30 years ago, apparently everything, EVERYTHING, that’s wrong with our economy devolves back to him and his policies, the Universal Cause. Apparently, he destroyed the middle class through tax cuts, slashes in government spending, reduction of government size, and dramatic scaling back of entitlements. Lots of dark references to “trickle down” and “gutting of social programs to put money in the pockets of the wealthy.”
On the flip side, Reagan has been all but canonized by Team Red for all these same reasons- the man who slew the dragon of big government and reified the conservatism of forebears like Barry Goldwater. One would think that this should make him into a hero for libertarians: let us conveniently forget the ramping of the Drug War, the institution of urine collection, the expansion of the carceral state, the prosecution of media dealing with sex- all can be forgiven because of the economics, right? Team Red Hate Radio may be boring, but they never miss an opportunity to long for the fiscally conservative days of the pre-Alzheimer’s Gipper.
Since both Teams and their respective Hate Radio chimps seem to agree that Reagan was the Great Small Government Conservative, let’s look at the data, since in our modern world, we have the ability to make charts and graphs at will with just the click of the mouse. And here, thanks to the radio guy rants, I’ll look at taxes and spending only, putting aside that mysteriously disappearing middle class. One of the common tropes, Red and Blue, is that “Reagan cut taxes.” This statement assumes that the listener is too stupid to know the difference between taxes and tax rates.
Here’s a graph of government revenues over time:

Wow, look at how that went spiraling down in 1981-1989! Errrr… looking at all revenue must be a mistake, since there are revenue sources other than taxes. Where’s that tax graph? Oh, here it is!

Clearly, Saint Ronald slashed taxes because… oh, wait. Never mind. It must have been the entitlement taxes he slashed. I’m sure I have that graph around here…

That’s a dramatic Reagan-era tax cut, isn’t it? Ignore the sound of the narrative collapse, who are you gonna believe, a somewhat retarded radio guy or your lying eyes?
Well, of course all of this money we took in reduced the debt, right? Because of all that spending reduction by the Team Red Saint. Here’s proof:

Clearly, those conservatives did a great job of watching the public purse. Well, of course, that inflection point in the debt rise has to be attributed to defense, because spending on social programs was cut unmercifully by those green-eyeshades Reaganites. Any moron can see that:

Now that’s what I call spending cuts. Look at how precipitously welfare spending declined.
Clearly Team Red and Team Blue are both right- here’s a guy who galloped into battle with Leviathan and slew it, putting to rest permanently the idea of Big Government and unrestrained spending and growth of the state. I’m glad that the Hate Radio guys educated me so well.
Early Thursday. I know the countdown is on for Thicc time. I’ll try not to bore you too much with these other goings-on.


Go out there and enjoy your day. Here, start it with a really under appreciated song. You’re welcome.
Previously: Part One – The Annunciation, Part Two – The Obligatory Production Number
Jane Fappington-Smyth slumped in the elevator lobby, waiting for the old woman to arrive, annoyed that she had to meet and greet her predecessor like she was an intern or an assistant or something. She, Jane, was now Editor of Thought! magazine; Regina Kestrel had had her day. But no matter, today would be her shining moment. She was going to do the one thing which Kestrel never could – rid the magazine’s website of the hated yokel commenters. Gilhooly and the others would take her seriously after this.
She could hear the receptionist yelling, presumably into the phone handling one of the many prank calls. “No, there is no Hugh Briss here. Please stop calling.” She wondered if this one would last a week. The elevator lobby was dated and old-fashioned, just like Kestrel. Lots of chrome and smoked glass, the shiny sculpture of the Thought! magazine nameplate covering the wall opposite the elevators. Large antique metal ashtrays, tapered metal bowls from the days when people actually smoked lined the walls. This was a liberalterian magazine, after all. A real one that got printed out on thin shiny paper every month and mailed to people who mattered. People who had cocktail parties where you could meet Tim Russert and get invited onto the Sunday morning cable talk shows if you sucked up.
Gilhooly joined her in the lobby. It made Jane feel slightly better that she wasn’t greeting Kestrel alone, but equally annoyed that Kestrel was still getting the royal treatment after all these years. “So, Jane, about that Salter fellow, the one whose mother, the nurse…”
“If we’d have covered that then it would have given them a taste of power,” said Jane, interrupting peevishly. “What, then? Thought! acting as their own personal Sixty Minutes whenever any of their yokel friends or relatives get in trouble? These are not people who exercise good judgment; this is the ‘hold my beer’ crowd. It was a good opportunity to rid ourselves of them, and I took it. That bullshit piece I published the next day about that other police overreaction case was the ultimate ‘fuck off’ to them. It felt so good after all those years of sleights and snark.”
“The man sells tractors for a living. Tractors.” Jane was on a tear. “Imagine bringing him to a cocktail party. ‘What do you do, Mr. Salter?’ ‘I sell tractors for a living. Hyuk.’ What would that person actually have to say to Andrew Sullivan or Arianna Huffington? ‘Yep, tractor business real good this year.’ Andrew may be barking mad, but at least he’s witty and presentable, and he had the foresight to not have comments on his website,” she said, getting in a desperate dig at the founding editor.
“Don’t even get me started on his kids’ names – ‘Notapenny Fortribute’ – poor thing will have to spend her life explaining to people that her father is a bitter clinger. Hopefully, she goes by ‘Penny.’”
“Jane,” the voice came through her fashionable headset with the purple light which matched the highlights of her hair. Just because you were editor of a major think-tank magazine didn’t mean you had to stop looking stylish, unlike Kestrel who looked like everyone’s grandma and probably bought her dowdy outfits at Dress Barn. “Ms. Kestrel is boarding the elevator. Oh, and the commenters just mooned Preet and taunted him in song and someone managed to setup a live feed; it’s going viral.”
“Fuck.” Jane felt herself about to throw up and looked around desperately. The ashtrays. She lurched toward the nearest one on her over-tall heels and buried her face in the bowl just in time. The gush of digestive juices amplified the long-dormant stale cigarette smell which wafted up to her nostrils causing a fresh gout of vomit, this time fully emptying her stomach into the foul, reeking bowl which didn’t have a flush feature.
The elevator doors opened. The first thing that hit Regina Kestrel was the acrid stench of vomit. Hmph. In her day it had been piss; good writers always smelled of piss. She stepped off the elevator and recognized her successor, all rump and purple bangs, obliviously throwing up into one of the corridor ashtrays. The purple hair always reminded Regina of her ten-year-old great niece.
“Dmitry.”
“Regina,” said Gilhooly sheepishly, glancing at Fappington-Smyth.
Jane straightened up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and turned around to see Kestrel. Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck.
“Another one, dearie? At your age, too,” asked Kestrel.
“Hello, Regina,” she said hoarsely, her throat burning with stomach acids. “No, it’s not that. Those yokeltarian monsters in the dungeon just mooned and taunted Preet in a really bad musical number and it got out and went viral. But I’m getting rid of them, and those stupid squirrels, too!”
“Foolish girl,” hissed Kestrel.
“Oh, what-ev-er,” Jane finally broke composure and did something she had always wanted to do, sass and eye-roll the old woman. “You always hated the commenters, anyway.”
Gilhooly shook his head slowly.
The elevator dinged and the doors opened and squirrels began streaming out. Goddammit, thought Jane, someone had put the motherfucking squirrels on the goddamn elevator as a joke, probably that little shit Suave. She was so going to dock his pay for that. The squirrels didn’t scatter but stayed together in a roiling gray mass which swarmed in her direction. She stepped out of the path of the swarm, pressing herself up against the wall. The swarm then changed direction towards her. Jane looked desperately at Gilhooly and Kestrel, who looked on disapprovingly from well outside the path of the swarm.
Suddenly, she understood. She had laughed at their warnings and ignored their explanations. She had persisted in her attempts to destroy tradition. At least she wouldn’t have to live with the shame and embarrassment of defeat.
She backed up against the wall and began screaming. The swarm quickly engulfed her and the screaming continued for thirty-eight seconds, a very long and uncomfortable thirty-eight seconds for Gilhooly and Kestrel, and presumably the poor receptionist. The swarm of squirrels then disengaged, revealing a skeletonized body. The face had been eaten completely off, but the purple-streaked hair remained intact. The body seemed to want to take a step forward but both knees collapsed, then the pelvis hit the floor and the torso pitched forward into a faceplant on the carpet and lay still.
“You tell them and tell them,” observed Kestrel.
“Indeed,” said Gilhooly, sucking on his unlit pipe. Gilhooly pulled out his phone and called the special emergency number he’d been provided.
The swarm of squirrels returned to the elevator doors and reared up to push the “down” button.
“Sunshine Cleaning Services…Good evening, Dr. Gilhooly…Yes, we’ll send a van right away, about fifteen minutes…Of course, sir, the ‘problem’ will be handled with the utmost discretion and dignity.”
Next: The taint-withering conclusion.

I don’t even know where to begin. Should I start with the tens of thousands stolen from taxpayers in bogus overtime? The drug dealing? The $200,000 stolen from a safe in one incident? The cop that has killed two people in the line of duty in the last decade, with one of them resulting in a six-figure settlement? There are so many choices, I just can’t decide.

Well, neither could Maryland U.S. Attorney Rod J. Rosenstein, so he charged the seven officers with racketeering.
The accusations portray officers who stole from taxpayers through time fraud and from citizens they stopped or searched, with at least 10 victims robbed including some who had not committed crimes, officials said.
The overtime abuses alleged include one from an officer who claimed it while on vacation in Myrtle Beach, S.C., and another who was in the poker room of a casino and not on the job, according to details released by prosecutors.
That’s jacked up, right? But it probably passes for petty in a city whose police department is known for corruption. Alas, the story continues:
The alleged robberies included stealing $1,500 from a maintenance man who planned to use the cash for rent and a theft of about $200,000 from a safe and from bags seized at a search location, authorities said.
In another instance, one officer is accused of helping an associate in a drug conspiracy remove a GPS tracking device placed on the person’s car by the DEA.

And there we are. Fortunately the new Police Chief seems to be as disgusted as you are, calling them “heinous” and the acts of “1930’s gangsters.” Not only that, but their actions have corrupted multiple federal cases, although the U.S. Attorney’s office didn’t say what exactly they were.
Now, this is probably the last thing Balmer needs in the wake of the Freddie Gray killing and riotous aftermath. Erosion of confidence in police has already reached a critical mass once. Something like this could set any progress they’ve made back quite a bit. Fortunately, the Chief seems to grasp some of the systemic problems, acknowledging that the overtime abuse “represents a pattern and practice that has undoubtedly existed in this department for many years.” Perhaps a conviction will make other time-stealing cops think twice before continuing. Only time, and a positive outcome in the case, will tell. But he also said something else that gives me a little hope:
Davis addressed the troubled department, saying, “Reform isn’t always a pretty thing to watch unfold, but it’s necessary in our journey toward a police department the city deserves.”
Encouraging.
The officers named in the indictment:
The seven officers charged under the racketeering statute all live in suburban Baltimore. They were identified as Momodu Bondeva Kenton Gondo, 34, of Owings Mills; Evodio Calles Hendrix, 32, of Randallstown; Daniel Thomas Hersl, 47, of Joppa; Wayne Earl Jenkins, 36, of Middle River; Jemell Lamar Rayam, 36, of Owings Mills; Marcus Roosevelt Taylor, 30, of Glen Burnie; and Maurice Kilpatrick Ward, 36, of Middle River.
Authorities said that Gondo, known as “GMoney,” also has been charged with joining a drug conspiracy. Five alleged members of that conspiracy were also charged Monday with drug offenses for allegedly selling heroin at a shopping center in Northeast Baltimore.
Good luck, Mr. Rosenstein and Mr. Davis. I know you’ve got your work cut out for you as you try to root out corruption and help the citizens of Baltimore get a police department they can not only be proud of, but that they can trust to not rob them blind.
We’re all really delighted with the community that’s coming together here at Glib Central. But it feels as if we’re still missing something. Oh, right, an official logo!
Way back in the advent of Glibertarians.com history–you know, a week or so ago–we posted an invitation for you to design our new logo. Some entries have come in, but because we’ve nearly doubled our members (!) since the original post, we thought we’d give more of you a chance to win glory, fame and…wait for it…a bumper sticker!
That’s right, glibs. Everyone who creates a serious entry–and we get to decide what’s a serious entry–will receive a Glibertarians.com bumper sticker which can be plastered on a bumper (not a euphemism), laptop case, or anywhere that’s unlikely to get you assaulted. Unless you’re into that kind of thing.
To make this feasible for as many of you as possible, The Founders have magnanimously decided to extend the entry deadline to Pi Day. Yep, you now have until noon (CST) on Tuesday, March 14, to get your fabulous (and perhaps, not so fabulous) entries in.
One word of caution: do not send zipped files or any executables. They will NOT be opened.
Check out the original post for the specs and pay attention to the legal stuff from our in-house counsel. Now go have some orphans sharpen your pencils and get to work!
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N.B. Entries must be SFW since the logo will be used to promote our future non-profit.