The Big Democrat Lie pretty much speaks for itself. They move their lips, they lie. We would all know it if not for the biased media. And if you believe the mainstream media, you better start learning Chinese and to behave the way they want you to.
Maybe that should be the new mantra.
But this isn’t about that, or it is only in part since actually it’s all part of the Big Democrat Lie.
For years and years I’d say something about the other side at this point to temper my point of view and accept the fact that both sides lie and are less interested in us than in their own individual reelections. But after the last four years and then the eight years of Obama it’s become clear that the two sides are really not the same anymore, not even close.
It used to be really kind of simple. Two piles of dog shit, choose the one whose stench offends you less.
Now, we are way beyond that. We are so far beyond that that the choice is clear and simple. Sleepy Joe and his laughing hyena president Kamala bolstered by the biased media and big tech business will do us in if you keep listening to Pravda USA, mainstream media. They don’t care about us. Worse, they don’t care about America. They are a ruling class pure and simple, a class of millionaires and billionaires marching us into The Hunger Games scenario.
Don’t believe me? I don’t really care. I’m older so the effects on me are minimal, mostly financial because one of the big little lies that make up The Big Democrat Lie is that you won’t pay more in taxes.
Revoking the Trump tax cut costs every regular person like me about 2100 dollars a year. That sounds like more taxes to me.
Gas is up 60 cents a gallon. That’s 9 dollars a tank of 15 gallons. Home heating oil is up about 30 cents. Electricity is going up, and in case you didn’t hear the news a few days ago, Kimberly Clarke and Coke and a whole lot of others announced big price increases across the board.
But wait! Hunter Biden announced he’s writing a sequel to his autobiography. He got paid 2 million for the first one, and how many millions by China, Russia and Ukraine? I don’t think he’s worried about price increases. Or his dad, sleepy Joe who got a piece of everything everywhere. You know, the mafia don (or he would be if he were smart enough) who’s dipping his beak.
Maybe we should see Hunter’s life in pictures from his PC that the FBI wouldn’t take when they raided Rudy Giuliani’s apartment for electronics.
Well, it is what it is.
They used to call things unintended consequences. I don’t think that’s correct anymore. I think the consequences, the effects, are purposeful.
Joe boy won’t do anything about China. He won’t do anything about Russia. I doubt he could have taken Trump behind the bleachers and I’m sure he can’t stand up to Chi or Valdi. He can’t walk up his airplane stairs.
That said, really they are all paying him and his family off in the biggest, baddest pay-for-play back-to-usual-politics ever. Did you hear that the AFT who gave 9 million dollars to the Dems had a good say in the CDC school guidelines? But that can’t be right since the Dems go by science. Or not. Or just the science written, like their history, the way they want it written and then broadcast by their cronies the way they want it broadcast.
Effects. They’re coming. Don’t believe me? Just keep your head in the sand and keep sucking up their kool aid.
By Peter Weiss
They were in foot and hand shackles on the bus so they had to shuffle as the length of the foot chain allowed, their hands in front of them tied to their feet.
Stepping down off the bus one boy no older than Bill, who was just twenty, tripped and tumbled down. Since he couldn’t use his hands to protect himself in the fall, he stood up with a bloody nose.
The boy, Bill remembered again now as he drove, as he remembered all too often all the time when he thought about it, didn’t really stand up. Two jail guards pulled him up by the shackles. Bill saw that the handcuff part cut one of his wrists. The boy stood there bleeding at his wrist and with blood dripping down his face from his nose.
“Goddamn dirty pig soiling our yard here,” one of the guards said.
A different guard stepped up to the boy. “You gonna pay for this, motherfucker. You gonna pay for it and you gonna clean it up.”
Bill was scared worse than he’d ever recalled being scared in his whole life. He was trying not to cry, trying to look tough and trying to take in everything going on around him all at once. Somehow his eyes must’ve met the eyes of one of the guards because that guard was suddenly in his face.
“You eyeballing me boy?” he said loudly, so close to Bill that Bill could feel the guard’s breath on his face and smell his stale lunch too.
“No.”
“No what?”
Bill had no clue what he was supposed to say. “No officer,” he finally managed.
“You call me sir, boy.”
“Yes sir,” Bill said.
“Lookee here,” the guard said. “We got us a bonafide genuine hippie boy.”
All the guards came over. They all wore side arms and carried shotguns. One guard cocked his shotgun and said “I see the slightest motion out the corner of my eye while I’m checking out this here hippie, I’m shooting at it first and asking about it after I shoot.”
“I’ll be damned,” one guard said.
“Remember the hippie we checked in this morning?” another one said.
“I heard he enjoyed the strip search. You gonna enjoy the strip search, boy?”
Bill did not answer.
Another guard, one who had not spoken, poked Bill in the ribs with the butt of his shotgun. “Didn’t you hear him ask you a question?”
“Yes sir,” Bill said.
“Well?” the same guard said, prodding Bill’s ribs with the shotgun with each word. “Answer his fucking question. You like it up the ass? You look like a faggot to me.”
“No sir,” Bill said.
“You a queer?”
“No sir.”
“We gonna put you in D dorm with the toughs,” the sergeant said. He hadn’t spoken before either. He stepped close to Bill. “Course that’s after the barber gets done with you.”
The sergeant stepped off and told the guards to start marching the inmates in. Just before they did, an inmate came out carrying a bucket with a brush inside it. Bill noted the inmate, in workhouse blues, was an albino.
“Thanks, whitey,” the sergeant said. “Okay now, Mr. Sharp,” he said to one of the guards, “hold the line while the bleeder cleans up his mess.”
One guard pushed the bleeder forward and forced him down to his knees. Another pushed the bucket forward with his foot, not caring that water was splashing the inmate on his knees.
The line of prisoners stood watching while the still bleeding inmate scrubbed the cement with the bristle brush. He stopped only to keep wiping his face with his sleeve so he didn’t bleed on the ground anymore.
“Anyone else wanna bleed?” one of the guards asked.
No one said anything.
By Peter Weiss
The Big Democrat Lie pretty much speaks for itself. They move their lips, they lie. We would all know it if not for the biased media. And if you believe the mainstream media, you better start learning Chinese and to behave the way they want you to.
Don’t believe me? Just keep your head in the sand and keep sucking up their cool aid.
A bit ago in mentioning that I work in the Mental Health field, as an update, I said the need for mental health services in our department was up 140% over the same quarter last year, and that will be even higher in this next quarter which is happening now. Last month we were up more than 150% and resources are more and more scarce. I said and repeat that kiddos with mental health needs are an underrepresented, underfunded and under-serviced part of our population. They should be given the entitlements, funding and resources going to illegal aliens, no doubt about it.
It’s all askew.
So just a couple of things to put out there. It seems almost futile these days, but then they’d have their way with one less voice of resistance. Only way to beat the bullies is to fight back.
Cuomo, that piece of work, well those wonderful for-the-people Democrats, especially sleepy Joe-boy who isn’t running things, promoted him to the leader of the governors’ conference on Covid.
Say what? They gave a leadership role to the one who is accused of sexual harassment by 8 women and get this who lied about and covered up the number of Covid deaths in nursing homes.
Yup, those Democrats ruling us, not leading us, really care about women and their right to be unmolested, and they really care about the truth regarding Covid deaths in New York or anywhere.
Ralph Northam and his Lieutenant Governor Justin Fairfax are still there, still in office. You don’t hear about them. Actually you don’t hear about Cuomo either. Why are they still there? Why is there no report on what really happened, one way or another?
Yup, those Democrats ruling us, not leading us, really care about women and their right to be unmolested, and they really care about racism and Democrat leaders acting in ways that could be construed (and that is putting it so nicely) as racist. Yup they really care about the African-American population, don’t they? And they really care about women too.
Lions and tigers and bears oh my!
Hunter Biden is going to speak at Tulane as an expert on media bias. Poor boy is the victim here.
If this last one doesn’t just say it all, I don’t know what does.
It’s all askew.
And so it goes people. It goes until it doesn’t go anymore, and when it doesn’t go anymore, don’t say you weren’t forewarned that all is askew.
By Peter Weiss
He went home. He wrote. Something started that would stay with him and progress. Of course he couldn’t know it yet, but it would stay with him his entire life. He would write. He would stop staying he was a writer. When someone asked him what he did, he would simply say he wrote.
Right now, he thought, he drove, he concentrated on driving.
Bobbie was a good sport. He understood. His father, well, that was a different story. He thought Bill was kind of gay, you know, writing poetry and all. But then his father was BIG RED 1, first division infantry WWII, POW for three and a half years in Nazi Germany, Stalag 3B Furstenburg.
And so it goes.
His father could never understand what majoring in English could get Bill, how it could earn him a living. Bill didn’t think that way. His father was dirt poor, immigrant, depression kid, dropped out of school in eighth grade to help support the family. Bill grew up working class, poor at times but not dirt poor, never dirt poor.
What it got me was busted, Bill thought as he drove. And here I am going somewhere I never thought/ never dreamed I’d be going, doing what I never wanted to do, never thought/dreamed about doing.
“You know, in Japan during the winter they keep the eggs in the freezer, not to freeze them of course, but to keep them from freezing.”
That’s what the professor who led him to the demonstration had told Bill one time. He was a poet and translator of Japanese poetry. They were meeting for lunch that day to discuss Bill’s writing.
“Wanna see what’s going on at the demonstration?” that professor had asked.
Then Bill’s hair lay there on the floor of the workhouse barber shop, gone in four zips, and he was handed the broom to sweep it up and throw it away, the only inmate that was made to do it himself. The barber was reluctant, but the guard who had it in for Bill made him hand over the broom and stood over Bill laughing as Bill threw into the garbage that which had taken him so long to grow and which had been so valuable to him.
Bill complied with the barber and the guard. Bill didn’t know yet that the show the guards had put on when the bus arrived, you know, their practiced routine to confirm their power position, was just a show, mostly, cause when and if push came to shove, they were the power players.
Bill complied because he was scared out of his wits and he didn’t know what else to do. In the scheme of things, sweeping up his hair and whatever hair was already there, if that was all he had to do, didn’t seem like so much.
He complied, and now he drove to the work that he’d never in ever thought would be his work but which he was happy to have and was thankful for because after all he was able to support himself and his wife and pay off their debts.
He had a few debts because he’d had to borrow money for rent and food from his brother and more money, a lot of it, from his boss at Suburban for the car they needed, he especially needed simply to go back and forth to work. He’d also had to borrow from his father because he had no money for his last quarter’s fees.
That was the whole thing. When he’d borrowed that money (his father had charged the fees on his charge card because he didn’t have any money), his father had made him promise he’d stay away from the demonstrations. And he would have too but for that professor who never did get to look at Bill’s writing.
On top of everything else, Bill had broken the promise to his father. Because of that, because of breaking a promise and disobeying, he could not ask for help, could not tell his father what happened.
By Peter Weiss
We’ll add more to the Big Democrat Lie at another time. Pretty much it speaks for itself. They move their lips, they’re lying. Lawyers all!
Meanwhile a few things to say.
A bit ago I mentioned that I work in the Mental Health field. Just so you know, need for mental health services in our department was up 140% over the same quarter last year, and that will be even higher in this next quarter which is happening now. Kiddos with mental health needs are an underrepresented, underfunded and under-serviced part of our population. They should be given the entitlements going to illegal aliens, no doubt about it. But the kiddos with mental health needs are mostly hidden, unable to advocate for themselves and not part of a politically advantageous talking point for those in power. So they get what they get, which is much less than what they need if anything at all.
It’s all askew.
About division and stoking racial divide, Biden and whoever is in charge over there talk one game and act another. They talk of unity but act of disunity. It’s on purpose. It’s not an accident.
Their words and their actions are all askew.
We live in a time when media and media related corporations are pretty much one in the same and are running our country. If truth is ever told we will learn that they effected the last election, that consequently our election was neither free nor fair. Will we ever hear the truth? Will history ever depict what the truth is?
I know. All you CNN, CBS, NBC, ABC, MSNBC and even NPR listeners will pooh pooh that statement. That’s because you aren’t hearing the truth. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn you actually don’t care about the truth.
It gets much worse. Those big corporations of old that were once reviled as capitalist devils produced things, made products like cars and washing machines and steel. These relatively new media corporations produce nothing, are much more powerful, much more rich and more concentrated into the hands of a few mega-billionaires whose personal business interests run throughout the world. They are more monopolistic and more powerful than corporations of old. Worse, they have no concern for their effects on America. The world is their stage and they could care less if America goes down. In fact, they are purposefully taking it down.
It’s all askew.
Finally, about the free press.
Once the free press is not free, once it is biased and cares more about an agenda than the truth, we as a free nation are in great peril.
Our media and press stopped being honest and fair to promote the election of Barack Obama. They did not vet him, did not report about his friends, cronies and ideological leaders. In fact they hid that from the American people.
Through the entire Trump presidency the mainstream media spewed the false narrative of the Russian hoax and failed to report accurately and/or honestly about that which President Trump did. That’s a fact, though those of you listening to the lie won’t believe it.
Incredible. Just incredible. If this were done in Russia, we would easily call it propaganda and say how horrible it is.
Once the media has an agenda and its agenda coincides wholly with one political party, we are in danger as a nation. When their agenda is not about telling the truth in America but about bolstering and supporting one political party and destroying the other, we the people are destined to lose our freedom.
Once that media openly censors some voices (almost exclusively conservative voices) and some news and then lies about incidents by presenting false facts, from there every poll, every opinion, every point of view based upon only their input is skewed.
Yes, it is all askew.
The first thing a dictator does is take control of the media. Once the Democrats controlled the mainstream media we were doomed.
All is askew.
By Peter Weiss
Bill didn’t take the bus into work. He wasn’t fit to drive, but he wasn’t fit to take the bus either. He was slightly high from drinking and pissed off from nothing other than wrong-think. Altogether this was not a good combination.
As he drove, he considered that he and his wife had had a good night and morning together. The shower together and their sleep were close and intimate. This was a good thing. She had brought him coffee in bed, who could ask for more?
But then…
More wrong-thing as he drove.
Where was he going? Why was he going there? What did he do wrong? What did he do to deserve what he got?
These were the basic questions that hit him as he made his way to the hotel.
Then there was the next set of questions. What was waiting there for him and why? How did this happen and how did he allow it to happen? How the hell did he get to where he was at?
No-good place four.
They cut his hippie hair, the hair that went down his back, in about four straight moves with the trimmer. Zip. Zip. Zip. Zip. All the moves front to back, in a row, just like mowing the lawn. His beautiful hair, hair he had fought his father so hard to be able to grow, hair that took years to get as long as it was, was gone in less than two minutes actual time. Zip, zip, zip, zip. Hair that he loved ended up in a big puddle on the floor of the workhouse barber shop.
Goddamn.
Then to make it worse, he remembered, they made him sweep it up himself.
None of the other inmates had to sweep up their hair. The others, they just got their cuts and went on about their business. But the guards who didn’t like Bill because he was A&B on a police officer stood by and made the barber make Bill get up out of the chair and clean up his own hair.
“How you like that, hippie boy?”
Except he wasn’t a hippie boy, not really. He wasn’t an anything in that regard. Yeah, he smoked pot. Yeah, he did speed. Yeah he was liberal and free-thinking and he took hallucinogens every now and then, at least he had done so until his wife-to-be had a bad trip and showed him they shouldn’t do that stuff.
So what? That was all part of being young and alive at the time he was young and alive. He didn’t belong to any organizations or political organizations. He didn’t proselytize. He wasn’t against anything per se. He didn’t agree with the war. He thought all people should be treated the same way and have the same rights and opportunities. He thought this was the way it should be in the world and that anyone who didn’t think this way, well, he didn’t want to be around them.
Nope, he thought. He wasn’t anything but a writer. That he was. That he did. He was a writer.
He was with his best friend Bobbie when they were fifteen over at Bobbie’s house. They were smoking pot and listening to music. Bobbie had speakers that went just about floor to ceiling. It was mid-winter, he remembered that because he remembered the cold walk home during which he kept repeating the same phrase over and over so he wouldn’t forget it.
“I have to go home,” he said to Bobbie.
“What? Why?”
“I have to go write something.”
The phrase had just popped into his head and now his mind demanded he go home immediately and write.
Nope he wasn’t anything but a writer. He wrote poetry and would later move into writing fiction. Yup, he was a fiction writer although he didn’t quite know it at the time.
By Peter Weiss
Gun control, climate change and the Green New Deal are all rooted in and part of the Democratic lie. The Democrats use them as they see fit, apply their use for political gain and force us to believe that which is not true and not real.
More sensible to all of this would be to understand and accept that the “all or nothing” argument is fallacious.
We are in the midst of the Great Democrat Lie. It’s never been more bold, never been more brazen, never been more destructive to the United States or more dismissive of half of the voting population. Joe Biden, master of the pinocchios, said he had the support of a majority of Republican voters supporting him. The latest polls say it is about 10%. Just a little lie.
On and on…
But I’m happy. At least Obama at least in one instance didn’t lie. No! Worse! He told the truth. He said he would fundamentally change America. And he did just that. Kudos to him.
What you see with Joe Biden, The Great Democrat Lie, is what we got.
By Peter Weiss
“Hey,” the smaller kid said. Bill started to walk away but as he said what he did he put his hand on Bill’s shoulder.
Bill flipped. He was already in the red zone and he just went to fire.
In one motion, he turned, tackled the little mutt and pinned him on the ground. Without thought and as part of that same motion, he grabbed his hair and started banging his head on the cement sidewalk.
Over and over. He would have killed the kid if the kid’s friends hadn’t pulled him off. They literally had to pull him off. It was hard to do so because Bill’s hands were still grabbing the kid’s hair.
But for the grace of God.
No-good place three. There were many no-good places. About six weeks after he was out of the workhouse, the undercover cop who was in the back of the paddy wagon with him and the kid he had tried to defend, a cop who they didn’t know was a cop, who was handcuffed just as they were and who led the conversation which showed up verbatim at his trial, tried to sell him pot in an alley in Columbus.
Why was Bill in an alley? Because through the campus area, at least, and in many parts of Columbus, there was a back-street type network. They were like alleys behind the buildings but they were through streets in actuality and they had no traffic lights at all. They were faster and more direct in some cases, and when you were walking from one place to another, if you knew how to cut thought the alleys you could cut your walking distance considerably.
This was wrong-think because laying there in bed Bill got pissed off all over again. He could feel himself starting to fume. He felt himself clenching his fists and he wanted to get up and punch the wall.
He might have. He just might have if one of the cats had not jumped on the bed and rubbed her ears on his half—clenched fist. It was the spotted white one, Sylvie, and he rubbed her ears. Her purring started deescalating his rage, her rubbing on him and revving like a smoothly running engine made him feel almost happy, almost good.
Overall, Bill could not remember feeling happy. He couldn’t remember feeling good.
He petted Sylvie until she was done being petted. Like any self-respecting cat, when she’d had enough, she simply got up and jumped off the bed. That’s when Bill got up, not because he had to, but because he wanted to. He got up, went to the frig and got himself a beer.
He drank that first beer quickly, and then he took himself a second beer which he brought with him into the shower. This beer he drank slowly, sipped at it while he lingered under the hot water. A long time he spent under the hot water.
As he dressed to get ready to go to work, he considered the day. He did not have any banquets to work on but he would spend a few hours with the banquet chef and Victor doing the prep for the next day’s parties. The rest of the week had no banquets, but lots of little parties, New Years’ parties. There were some breakfasts too and he thought he might see Beverly one of the mornings that he was in very early. As he finished dressing, the way he was feeling, he hoped it was sooner than later.
The anger and the beer made him feel ornery. Ornery was another no-good place, a different kind of no-good place than a no-good thought place. Feeling ornery and being able to act on it was different than being in a bad place in thoughts.
The hell with it, he thought. Before he left for work he took a swig of vodka from the bottle in his liquor cabinet. Slightly buzzed, it crossed his mind that maybe he should take the bus to work.
By Peter Weiss
I see some of my friends and relatives, real Trump haters, celebrating with glee having received their second vaccination (for Covid). Being vaccinated is a matter of personal choice. I personally think it is a good thing, but like other issues, I don’t press my beliefs on others.
Yes. I research them. I study some of them. I state them. I don’t reprint on social media idiotic statements that bear no connection to any sense of truth just because they support my ego or verify my sense of self or my feelings at any given time.
I differentiate my beliefs and opinions from fact. And unlike what the woke people do so readily, I don’t say that my feelings are facts and ask people to accept my feelings as such.
These days I rarely carry cash, any cash whatsoever. So if I want a coffee and don’t want to charge it, I may feel poor for not having money in my pocket to pay for a coffee. My feeling poor, does not mean in effect that I am poor. Were that the case on April 15th I would tell the government I feel poor, therefore I am poor by your own standards, and so I won’t pay any taxes. (So you know, their own standards say that if a boy identifies as a girl on any given day and sees the doctor, the doctor must treat them by their identification.)
Okay. These days we could on like this forever. The hypocrisy is more obvious and certainly more rampant than ever before.
So I just want to say a couple of things to all you Trump-haters I know who have celebrated or are celebrating your vaccination on social media. First, if it weren’t for President Trump, you wouldn’t have a vaccine yet. Remember candidates Biden and Harris saying they wouldn’t trust the vaccine developed under Trump? Gee, now they want to take credit for solving the problem.
Yes, people, it was Trump’s initiative and foresight that developed the vaccine, your vaccination, (a feat which medical scientists equate to making the trip to the moon that Kennedy initiated in less than one year as opposed to the decade it actually took). Hate Trump as you will, still, no matter what you do, you’ll never delete him. You’ll never diminish that which he was so right about. Your vitriol will only make it more manifest.
Say thank you to President Trump for your vaccination and your safety. The Democrats could never have done it in the time Trump did.
By Peter Weiss
Bill’s wife had to work the next morning. She was up early and because he was used to it, Bill was up too. For a change, he was able to linger, to lounge around. She was the one who had to shower, get ready, get dressed, get gone. Her bus came at 8:15. If she missed it, she’d be late to work.
Sue made coffee for Bill while she was in the kitchen. She made tea and an instant oatmeal for herself, sat by herself while she had her breakfast.
Bill stayed in bed. He drank his coffee there and took a moment in his life to do nothing. Doing nothing was good as long as it was only momentary. He was not one who did well with unstructured time. He’d asked Sue if she wanted a ride to work. She’d declined because she liked the walk to the bus and the bus ride. As well, she wanted Bill to be able to rest.
He did nothing for as long as he could. The trouble with doing nothing was there was nothing to do and with nothing to do his mind went to places it should not have gone to.
First no-good place was reliving his trip to the workhouse. If he thought about it, he could hear the gavel banging down, Judge Shul telling him in no uncertain terms “Policemen don’t lie.” He wondered as he lay there if that judge really believed that or if it was something he was obligated to say due to his position.
Having been forced to cop a plea to something he simply did not do still made Bill sick to his stomach. On top of that it pissed him off and that anger heaped on to all the anger he’d always had. For his part, he knew this now, he’d had anger long before he knew he knew he was angry. Maybe, just maybe, if he’d known he had anger at its onset, he might have gotten help for it. Maybe. Who knows? Who knew? Most likely his father wouldn’t have let him go for help anyway, even if he’d known he needed help.
The judge had made the mistake of asking Bill if he had anything, any last thing, to say. Maybe he thought Bill was going to apologize, but that wasn’t close. Instead, Bill started to say that he wanted to say that “it” didn’t happen the way the police said. Or, what he actually said was “I just want to say that the policemen l…” He never got out that “l” word which was lied. Or, he got the word out sort of but the gavel banging down even before he could complete saying the word stopped it from being heard.
He remembered being taken into custody right then and there, being put in handcuffs and led out from the courtroom to the holding cell. He remembered seeing his wife’s jaw dropping and her standing there with her mouth open.
And that was just the start.
Second no-good place, he didn’t know why, was up on Springfield Boulevard with his best friend and his step-brother. They’d encountered some kids one of whom had a beef with Bill’s step-brother. They were all about sixteen.
The kid picking on Bill’s step-brother was much bigger than him but he was just about Bill’s size so it seemed right to Bill to intervene which he did without hesitating. He was direct, straightforward. He stepped between the two of them and stood face to face with that boy.
“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size,” Bill said.
This stopped the boy in his tracks and he backed off, but since their group was bigger in number than Bill’s group, one of the other boys stepped up to Bill. Trouble for Bill was the boy was the runt of the litter, much smaller than Bill.
Bill took a moment and sized up the situation. He quickly, maybe rightfully, determined that their little mutt wasn’t worth his effort and turned to walk away.
