Really, I d on't what the elite media-certified Great Genius hasn't wit (or, yes, intelligence) just to blame his self-prescribed ketamine for the deposition testimony.
FWIW: I keep referring to Musk as America's Most Beloved Afrikaner. I've been told that he isn't Afrikaner but whatever the Canadian equivalent to cracker is but I dunno. Haven't confirmed or ascertained because I don't care. (Apropos nothing, one of my two favorite kiddy books is Sendak's "Pierre".) But Musk/Afrikaner never fails to amuse.
Thiel's up there as an Afrikaner POS but Musk is single handedly working to protect the master race by fathering as many spawn as possible. Thiel doesn't so engage.
Hating him — or should I say joining their trans sib? — wouldn’t make the spawn special. With just paying attention and average intelligence anyone can, and probably does, hate him, sorry.
She’s America’s most beloved Afrikaner but Musk is America’s Most Beloved Afrikaner as certified by America’s elite news media. Huge, obvious difference.
See who gets reported on how much and you’ll see I’m correct.
That said, if one doesn’t respect the said media’s judgment, of course you’re correct.
This stuff – the transcripts, et. al., not Roy’s excellent parody – are why I don’t worry about Musk successfully running for political office. He has “loser” written all over him so explicitly, in a way few men have. It's so explicit he can’t even cover it up with billions of dollars. His self-parodying Dr. Evil vibe is too powerful.
I will confess that I've been mystified for more than a decade at Musk's reputation as "a genius" solely because he's rich. Everything he's ever said or done has demonstrated quite conclusively that he's anything BUT a genius. Indeed, if he hadn't been gifted an emerald mine by his parents, my guess is that Elon Musk would be that guy who has worked at the delicatessen for 30 years, all the while working on the time machine or death ray he knows he can build out of discarded television parts and old soup cans.
And most of his co-workers would dislike him because of his arrogance and his belief he is funny when he so apparently is...not. However, there would be one little nebbish-type guy at work who likes him and wants to be his sidekick (the Musk-bros) because that guy is so hapless himself he mistakes Musk's self-delusion for self-confidence.
There’s a whole group of people eager to latch onto any tech with messianic fervor (whether or not it’s real, or even “tech,” like Hyperloop tunnels). All you need is the proper P.T. Barnum to sell it.
I don't know what that means but somehow I'm certain that I felt that way before.
The richest people in the world seem to be assholes. This is not a new phenomenon but I guess we get exposed to it so often but it's something we have to think about. Used to be you could pretend at least that cream rises to the top and shit sinks to the bottom. That was probably never true but these days you can't even pretend it might be.
Well, they used to keep quiet about it, mostly. When they made even little egotistical peeps they were savagely mocked -- remember General Bullmoose from "L'il Abner"? If they behaved like Musk does today they'd have been put in a nuthouse.
A positive hangover from the '29 crash. These days, nobody jumps out the window because they know there's an enormous government bailout coming. After a while, nobody even remembers there was a massive fuck-up, it's just seen as more evidence of their brilliance at "working the system."
Never trust someone who has a ready-made rationale for not committing a felony. Like a guy who, the first time you meet him says, "Don't worry, I won't rape your wife, she's not my type."
Just because he doesn't need to doesn't mean he won't. Also, according to SCOTUS accepting payment, as a civil servant, for a vote you would have made anyway is not a bribe.
Yeah, the idea that there's such a thing as "enough money" and when you reach that point you stop being the rapacious scumbag that got you to your first billion, is laugh-out-loud funny.
I realized, just the other day (I'm a slow thinker from way back) that all this 'eternal damnation' shit is actually a desperately hopeful fantasy. Because if there's any kind of eternity for us after we die, if we have any kind of immortality, even if it's full of flames and smoke and burning cinders and diabolical sodomy world without end amen amen, then, well, we're not going to DIE. It's uplifting. Like when Ozymandias tells that poor sad sack doomed secretary of his "The Egyptians regarded death as a voyage of discovery. Don't you find that reassuring?" Eternal damnation is still immortality. Don't you find that reassuring?
Of course, the numb nuts assassin shows up right about then, caps the well boobed blonde and then gets whacked in turn by the ever Machiavellian Veidt, and frankly, I doubt either of them got any sort of eternity at all. I doubt any of us do. The mythology may cheer us up but the oubliette awaits us all.
I love your little social satire vignettes, Mr. Edroso, and this one is absolutely top of your form. But it's all just whistling in the dark, isn't it? It's all just us throwing our caps forward over the wall and hoping to Christ we can somehow climb it, lighting a candle in the dark and praying the wind stays away and the pipes don't burst. We mock Trump and Musk and Bezos and we beseech the Elder Gods to save us from the inevitability of Congressman Rittenhouse, Musk's purchase of PubKrogAlbertsMeijers, the North Korean EMP blast. This is a lovely canticle against the encroaching darkness. Thank you for it. I will print it out and paste it to the wall of my oubliette.
Lovely word, oubliette — "the little place of forgetting." In English, is it found only in Poe? I asked a carpenter to build a laundry chute but since it's located in the floor of the bathroom closet and is less than a foot long, I think of it as my own personal oubliette (at least until the trap door supports a three-foot pile that can't be ignored).
Synchronicity is a weird but omnipresent thing. I just finished writing the scene where my teenage vampire hunters get captured and imprisoned in a closet by the mind controlled cops, only to escape through a laundry chute. Of course, the basement they escape to is full of snoozing vampires, so it's a frying pan-fire scenario. But vampires don't like fire, so it all works out... kind of .
Honestly, I have always been hyperproductive -- slow thinker, fast typist -- but since last Christmas I've been on some kind of insane creative bender. I finished up KOKOMO in January, and thought "okay, that's it, I don't think I need to write any more ever" as it was my 22nd novel. But then GODSPEED niggled and niggled at me so I pounded it out, and thought "okay now I'm really done" but THE PACT started hectoring me from the cheap seats so I said "fine but you're it, buddy" and knocked that one out and now, I'm just finishing up BETHLEHEM, which is basically SALEM'S LOT with teenagers fighting the vampires instead of the usual assorted lot of adult professionals including one beautiful girlfriend who always gets fanged early on to provide melodramatic motivation to the others.
Ah, but you haven't read SALEM'S LOT so that won't mean anything to you.
Anyway, I kinda hope I'm done at this point, I'm really too old for this shit given that it makes me no money at all. I started a trilogy forty years ago and I recently finished that, started another one thirty years ago and got that wrapped up.
What I'm more tired of than anything else is the constant cycle of hope and disappointment. Every time I finish another book I'm like "maybe THIS will be the one that finally breaks through all the chaff and finds me an audience" and every time, I scan my Amazon dashboard every day, and nothing. It is, to say the least, disheartening. But it could be worse, I could be named Cletus and wearing a red hat.
I wrote a comment once over at alicublog about this struggling author, a Mr. Ed Roso, who, on a hot July night stops into the local Bodega, picks up a 12 pack of Rolling
Rock and goes home to his lonely apartment to write Yelp reviews for five bucks a piece. Midway through the fourth beer, halfway through the 17th Yelp review, The ghost of Christmas past comes knocking on the sill of the open window. Ed Roso tells the ghost that it's July and he can fuck off until December.
Yeah. I have to assume it was a big laundry chute. I do describe them removing the metal flange around the hole in the floor to make it a little bigger. Also, God was helping them.
My assertion is that bits of me (that I inherited from the biomass of this-here cosmos) will live forever-ish (that is, as long as anything is likely to last til the solar-unit devours the system) if I treat them well enough. That's long enough for me, and should probly do for pretty much all the inhabitants of the local planet anyway...
I plotzed, if that means I had to clean up the grits and eggs I knocked over.
This view of Elmo comports with a recent interview where The Genius admits to playing a two year old on account on the platform formerly known as twitter, and has been pretending to be a toddler…explains too much.
I flash back to Lily Tomlin wearing a hamster head on SNL Paelo.
The latest I saw (courtesy Matt Binder) is that Xitter is going through users’ posts and replacing any instances of “Twitter” with “X,” with hilarious and predictable results. (Broken links, etc.)
Also, having once taught middle-schoolers, let me tell you what happens next: Millions of people who had never even given the matter much thought before, now make a point of deliberately writing "Twitter" as often as possible. Posts just entirely composed of the word "Twitter", out to the character limit.
Particularly considering the *actual* web address is twitter dot com, with a redirect from X dot com. Don't know why JBE Musk can't get it reassigned, but I hope it's a continual thorn in his side.
Duck Duck Go tells me that back in the year 2000 x.com was an online bank founded by you-know-who that later changed its name to PayPal. I also got delightful results like x@twitter, because x has its own account on x, excuse me, Twitter, I mean x.
Hamster suits? I must really be out of touch with what the Kool Kids are wearing to the office these days. I Googled this expecting to find come sort of hi-tech uniform and got nothing but people dressed up like furry little hamsters. Do Elon Musk's minions really have to dress up like hamsters? Not even rats or ferrets? Bring back the ninjas, I say.
But what I latched onto was the judge's notes in re the various lists of questions that had been proffered by the prosecution and the Trumpys. In particular, this little section in the footnotes, illustrating a set of questions from defense attorneys about which the judge said "NOPE NOPE NOPE":
"So whether we like it or not, a juror's political affiliation is something we need to know and
understand ... What we all really want to know, and what they [the People] want to know, is do you
like President Trump? "
Bloody hell. I cannot wait til the summons for duty in the local court shows up in my inbox. Won't be the same questions, and I'd get tossed anyway due to work history (not to mention my neighbors down the hall work as public defenders in Jan 6 cases, and a certain minion of a certain Queensman lives in our building)...but I would relish the opportunity to do my sworn duty.
Reminder that in 2017, and again in 2020, he tried to get a list of *everyone* who voted so he could see who voted for him and reward/punish appropriately.
All the smart jury-pickin' in the world couldn't keep him from losing both E. Jean Carroll defamation cases. Sometimes a losing case is just a losing case.
Musk's insistence that Community Notes is a valid substitute for fact-checking becomes more and more absurd by the day, given that the "community" it relies on for "facts" is more and more exclusively fascists, idiots, Musk fluffers, or all the above.
Didn't you hear about the missile attack that Iran launched against Tel Aviv? It was a Twitter Exclusive, they scooped all the so-called "news" networks on this!
RIDICULOUS '80S FEMALE COMPUTER VOICE is cherce. But that's one of the reasons we love these productions so much. The whole budget is up there, on the screen. (Also "You worm!")
There's probly a point deep into the parody-life of a choad like Squeal on, Elon where the parody is so purified to crystalline status that all that's left is diamond-hardened Truth. There, in that Pit of Truth, we'll plant the Ed Roso family crest, proclaiming "This right here? This here is CHERCE!"
"...hamster suits..."???
Continuing:
"Druhgs! Druuuuuhgs!"
Really, I d on't what the elite media-certified Great Genius hasn't wit (or, yes, intelligence) just to blame his self-prescribed ketamine for the deposition testimony.
FWIW: I keep referring to Musk as America's Most Beloved Afrikaner. I've been told that he isn't Afrikaner but whatever the Canadian equivalent to cracker is but I dunno. Haven't confirmed or ascertained because I don't care. (Apropos nothing, one of my two favorite kiddy books is Sendak's "Pierre".) But Musk/Afrikaner never fails to amuse.
The Magnificent AMBA-son.
Oh, he'll get his comeuppance.
Neck and neck with Der Blutgraf, Peter Thiel, America's Least Beloved Afrikaner.
ALBA male Petey? Yeah, the belovedness factor is deep in negative territory.
AKA "The Ron DeSantis Uncanny Valley."
Actually, no.
Thiel's up there as an Afrikaner POS but Musk is single handedly working to protect the master race by fathering as many spawn as possible. Thiel doesn't so engage.
Point Musk.
Does it count against Musk that all his spawn will eventually come to hate him?
Hating him — or should I say joining their trans sib? — wouldn’t make the spawn special. With just paying attention and average intelligence anyone can, and probably does, hate him, sorry.
-Isn't Charlize Theron America's Most Favorite Afrikaaner? or is that just me?
Mine, anyway.
She’s America’s most beloved Afrikaner but Musk is America’s Most Beloved Afrikaner as certified by America’s elite news media. Huge, obvious difference.
See who gets reported on how much and you’ll see I’m correct.
That said, if one doesn’t respect the said media’s judgment, of course you’re correct.
"a kaffir in a coffee shop!"
Damn.
DAAAYAMN.
2 marks for the whole lot.
2.36 marks after sales tax
Nah, you forgot the discount for the whole lot. It works out the same.
This stuff – the transcripts, et. al., not Roy’s excellent parody – are why I don’t worry about Musk successfully running for political office. He has “loser” written all over him so explicitly, in a way few men have. It's so explicit he can’t even cover it up with billions of dollars. His self-parodying Dr. Evil vibe is too powerful.
I will confess that I've been mystified for more than a decade at Musk's reputation as "a genius" solely because he's rich. Everything he's ever said or done has demonstrated quite conclusively that he's anything BUT a genius. Indeed, if he hadn't been gifted an emerald mine by his parents, my guess is that Elon Musk would be that guy who has worked at the delicatessen for 30 years, all the while working on the time machine or death ray he knows he can build out of discarded television parts and old soup cans.
Except the death ray doesn't work & has a nest of squirrels inside he refers to as his "technical consultants."
*Musk in his basement, wearing goggles*
"Chip, Dale, hand me the socket wrench."
ALLLLVVIIIINNNNN!!!
Nah, again. Per Roy, it's hamsters all the way down...
And most of his co-workers would dislike him because of his arrogance and his belief he is funny when he so apparently is...not. However, there would be one little nebbish-type guy at work who likes him and wants to be his sidekick (the Musk-bros) because that guy is so hapless himself he mistakes Musk's self-delusion for self-confidence.
There’s a whole group of people eager to latch onto any tech with messianic fervor (whether or not it’s real, or even “tech,” like Hyperloop tunnels). All you need is the proper P.T. Barnum to sell it.
A musker born every minute...?
AI will REVOLUTIONIZE teaching! Every child will have his own personal AI tutor! They'll learn ALL the maths in HALF the time!
I'll insert an OOF right here for you to claim, 'cause OOF.
Since "all the maths" presupposes infinity, that "half the time" isn't all it's cracked up to be, no?
That's funny, OOF is what my students say.
Well, sure – given their perfesser.
Since he loves the painting I gave my son the sweatshirt.
https://www.instagram.com/themuseumofmodernart/p/CzthVymMg7Y/
"Death ray, pshaw! It isn't even slowing them down!"
My death ray was designed for peaceful purposes!
Warmaking porpoises need not fret.
Addams!
That transcript makes me think Musk is representing himself & trying to get the case thrown out on grounds of insanity.
kaffir in a coffee shop!"
I don't know what that means but somehow I'm certain that I felt that way before.
The richest people in the world seem to be assholes. This is not a new phenomenon but I guess we get exposed to it so often but it's something we have to think about. Used to be you could pretend at least that cream rises to the top and shit sinks to the bottom. That was probably never true but these days you can't even pretend it might be.
The k-word = the n-word.
It's so clear to me .now
So I don't guess I've ever felt that way then.
Thanks!
I'm just surprised you didn't envision it in the Poets' Cafe´
I think we're all in the Poet's Cafe. We just need to learn to accept it.
As long as there's an occasional brawl to break up the monotony...
There are work places
ketamine = nudes?
Well, they used to keep quiet about it, mostly. When they made even little egotistical peeps they were savagely mocked -- remember General Bullmoose from "L'il Abner"? If they behaved like Musk does today they'd have been put in a nuthouse.
The good ol' days had nuthouses...is that what made them good?
A positive hangover from the '29 crash. These days, nobody jumps out the window because they know there's an enormous government bailout coming. After a while, nobody even remembers there was a massive fuck-up, it's just seen as more evidence of their brilliance at "working the system."
"These days, nobody jumps out the window because they" know everyone else will assume Ruskis.
Let me introduce you to Eric "People in nursing homes will be dead soon and shouldn't even be thinking about voting" Hovde.
And he's pulling the "I'm rich and morally superior, because I don't *need* to accept bribes" stuff as well.
Because that's the only thing that could hold someone back from accepting bribes. Can't think of any other reason not to commit a felony, no.
Whene'er the rich claim no intentions felonious
And to serve humankind in a fashion harmonious
If you're doing your due diligence unerroneous
You'll catch 'em repeating their phony-balonyous
Never trust someone who has a ready-made rationale for not committing a felony. Like a guy who, the first time you meet him says, "Don't worry, I won't rape your wife, she's not my type."
Just because he doesn't need to doesn't mean he won't. Also, according to SCOTUS accepting payment, as a civil servant, for a vote you would have made anyway is not a bribe.
Yeah, the idea that there's such a thing as "enough money" and when you reach that point you stop being the rapacious scumbag that got you to your first billion, is laugh-out-loud funny.
I realized, just the other day (I'm a slow thinker from way back) that all this 'eternal damnation' shit is actually a desperately hopeful fantasy. Because if there's any kind of eternity for us after we die, if we have any kind of immortality, even if it's full of flames and smoke and burning cinders and diabolical sodomy world without end amen amen, then, well, we're not going to DIE. It's uplifting. Like when Ozymandias tells that poor sad sack doomed secretary of his "The Egyptians regarded death as a voyage of discovery. Don't you find that reassuring?" Eternal damnation is still immortality. Don't you find that reassuring?
Of course, the numb nuts assassin shows up right about then, caps the well boobed blonde and then gets whacked in turn by the ever Machiavellian Veidt, and frankly, I doubt either of them got any sort of eternity at all. I doubt any of us do. The mythology may cheer us up but the oubliette awaits us all.
I love your little social satire vignettes, Mr. Edroso, and this one is absolutely top of your form. But it's all just whistling in the dark, isn't it? It's all just us throwing our caps forward over the wall and hoping to Christ we can somehow climb it, lighting a candle in the dark and praying the wind stays away and the pipes don't burst. We mock Trump and Musk and Bezos and we beseech the Elder Gods to save us from the inevitability of Congressman Rittenhouse, Musk's purchase of PubKrogAlbertsMeijers, the North Korean EMP blast. This is a lovely canticle against the encroaching darkness. Thank you for it. I will print it out and paste it to the wall of my oubliette.
Oh, hey, I also only just realized that Musks was not calling for his droogies, but, rather, for drugs. Pity.
Lovely word, oubliette — "the little place of forgetting." In English, is it found only in Poe? I asked a carpenter to build a laundry chute but since it's located in the floor of the bathroom closet and is less than a foot long, I think of it as my own personal oubliette (at least until the trap door supports a three-foot pile that can't be ignored).
Synchronicity is a weird but omnipresent thing. I just finished writing the scene where my teenage vampire hunters get captured and imprisoned in a closet by the mind controlled cops, only to escape through a laundry chute. Of course, the basement they escape to is full of snoozing vampires, so it's a frying pan-fire scenario. But vampires don't like fire, so it all works out... kind of .
Ah, you write stuff? No wonder you're asking if it's all just whistling in the dark. Have a drink and keep typing!
Honestly, I have always been hyperproductive -- slow thinker, fast typist -- but since last Christmas I've been on some kind of insane creative bender. I finished up KOKOMO in January, and thought "okay, that's it, I don't think I need to write any more ever" as it was my 22nd novel. But then GODSPEED niggled and niggled at me so I pounded it out, and thought "okay now I'm really done" but THE PACT started hectoring me from the cheap seats so I said "fine but you're it, buddy" and knocked that one out and now, I'm just finishing up BETHLEHEM, which is basically SALEM'S LOT with teenagers fighting the vampires instead of the usual assorted lot of adult professionals including one beautiful girlfriend who always gets fanged early on to provide melodramatic motivation to the others.
Ah, but you haven't read SALEM'S LOT so that won't mean anything to you.
Anyway, I kinda hope I'm done at this point, I'm really too old for this shit given that it makes me no money at all. I started a trilogy forty years ago and I recently finished that, started another one thirty years ago and got that wrapped up.
What I'm more tired of than anything else is the constant cycle of hope and disappointment. Every time I finish another book I'm like "maybe THIS will be the one that finally breaks through all the chaff and finds me an audience" and every time, I scan my Amazon dashboard every day, and nothing. It is, to say the least, disheartening. But it could be worse, I could be named Cletus and wearing a red hat.
I have a sister who lives in Kokomo. Is this something I should know about?
Carry On Typing/Drinking!
I wrote a comment once over at alicublog about this struggling author, a Mr. Ed Roso, who, on a hot July night stops into the local Bodega, picks up a 12 pack of Rolling
Rock and goes home to his lonely apartment to write Yelp reviews for five bucks a piece. Midway through the fourth beer, halfway through the 17th Yelp review, The ghost of Christmas past comes knocking on the sill of the open window. Ed Roso tells the ghost that it's July and he can fuck off until December.
2 marks. Distribute appropriately.
It's doubtful that teenagers could fit in your average laundry chute, although a then three-year old nephew made the two-story trip a couple of times.
3 year old nephews are THE BEST!
Yeah. I have to assume it was a big laundry chute. I do describe them removing the metal flange around the hole in the floor to make it a little bigger. Also, God was helping them.
“Oubliette” has had a sort of resurgence in Fantasy, and a lesser extent Sci Fi. It’s almost a trope that the evil gentry have ‘em..
The gentry and their Frenchy stuff has landed.
I first became aware of the word and concept from the Magic the Gathering card.
I remember seeing one at Warwick Castle.
Me too.
Of course, where else would one store their little oublies?
Pull my finger, Ye Mighty
And despair!
My assertion is that bits of me (that I inherited from the biomass of this-here cosmos) will live forever-ish (that is, as long as anything is likely to last til the solar-unit devours the system) if I treat them well enough. That's long enough for me, and should probly do for pretty much all the inhabitants of the local planet anyway...
Existence is like beer, you can only rent it.
Sartre knockin' back another, yellin' "Barkeep!!"
"Right now I'm being, til I can get a few quarts of nothingness into me"
2 ephemeral, if not non-existent, marks
I plotzed, if that means I had to clean up the grits and eggs I knocked over.
This view of Elmo comports with a recent interview where The Genius admits to playing a two year old on account on the platform formerly known as twitter, and has been pretending to be a toddler…explains too much.
I flash back to Lily Tomlin wearing a hamster head on SNL Paelo.
You've never had an egg salad so good you could plotz?
Despite it being a hellsite, the sheer idiocy of renaming Twitter to X, the universal variable, still enrages me.
However, what unnerves me is that Roy’s piece might actually be a transcript of an ordinary day for the Afrikaner Übermensch.
I read recently that it's losing users at a rate faster than MySpace.
The latest I saw (courtesy Matt Binder) is that Xitter is going through users’ posts and replacing any instances of “Twitter” with “X,” with hilarious and predictable results. (Broken links, etc.)
Twitter, Twitter, Twitter. Hah, you can't touch me HERE, Musk!
Also, having once taught middle-schoolers, let me tell you what happens next: Millions of people who had never even given the matter much thought before, now make a point of deliberately writing "Twitter" as often as possible. Posts just entirely composed of the word "Twitter", out to the character limit.
Particularly considering the *actual* web address is twitter dot com, with a redirect from X dot com. Don't know why JBE Musk can't get it reassigned, but I hope it's a continual thorn in his side.
All the above whether true or not is delightful.
Duck Duck Go tells me that back in the year 2000 x.com was an online bank founded by you-know-who that later changed its name to PayPal. I also got delightful results like x@twitter, because x has its own account on x, excuse me, Twitter, I mean x.
Hamster suits? I must really be out of touch with what the Kool Kids are wearing to the office these days. I Googled this expecting to find come sort of hi-tech uniform and got nothing but people dressed up like furry little hamsters. Do Elon Musk's minions really have to dress up like hamsters? Not even rats or ferrets? Bring back the ninjas, I say.
Meanwhile, I just read the prospective juror questions for next week's Corker in New York...uhmm...er.
Find 'em here:
https://www.nycourts.gov/LegacyPDFS/press/PDFs/Letter-re-jury-selection-4-8-24.pdf
But what I latched onto was the judge's notes in re the various lists of questions that had been proffered by the prosecution and the Trumpys. In particular, this little section in the footnotes, illustrating a set of questions from defense attorneys about which the judge said "NOPE NOPE NOPE":
"So whether we like it or not, a juror's political affiliation is something we need to know and
understand ... What we all really want to know, and what they [the People] want to know, is do you
like President Trump? "
Bloody hell. I cannot wait til the summons for duty in the local court shows up in my inbox. Won't be the same questions, and I'd get tossed anyway due to work history (not to mention my neighbors down the hall work as public defenders in Jan 6 cases, and a certain minion of a certain Queensman lives in our building)...but I would relish the opportunity to do my sworn duty.
"Trump? Never heard o' the fella."
"We're best buds! He got me these nifty sneakers for HALF PRICE!"
Reminder that in 2017, and again in 2020, he tried to get a list of *everyone* who voted so he could see who voted for him and reward/punish appropriately.
Did anyone tell him there is no list of who voted for who? I'd love to have seen the reaction.
There's a jury I'd refuse to sit on. You know there'll be chuds trying to get the list of jurors in case King Toad is found guilty.
And of course that jury would be Trump's jury as much as anyone's, 'cause it is equally up to his team to pick 'em.
All the smart jury-pickin' in the world couldn't keep him from losing both E. Jean Carroll defamation cases. Sometimes a losing case is just a losing case.
Exackly. And that is the beauty of what passes for jury of our peers. Trump's own sent him down, and it's quite possible they'll do it again.
"-the Court and both parties in this matter have agreed that your names will not be
publicly disclosed. Further, your addresses will not be shared with anyone other than
counsel for the parties..."
Helluva thing that we have to do this, as if it were a gangland trial. Which it is!
so they are going to switch juries at the last minute?
This is hilarious. You hit it out of the park Roy.
Musk's insistence that Community Notes is a valid substitute for fact-checking becomes more and more absurd by the day, given that the "community" it relies on for "facts" is more and more exclusively fascists, idiots, Musk fluffers, or all the above.
Didn't you hear about the missile attack that Iran launched against Tel Aviv? It was a Twitter Exclusive, they scooped all the so-called "news" networks on this!
RIDICULOUS '80S FEMALE COMPUTER VOICE is cherce. But that's one of the reasons we love these productions so much. The whole budget is up there, on the screen. (Also "You worm!")
I knew exactly what he meant by that, and could actually hear that voice in my head. Now, that's REALISM.
There's probly a point deep into the parody-life of a choad like Squeal on, Elon where the parody is so purified to crystalline status that all that's left is diamond-hardened Truth. There, in that Pit of Truth, we'll plant the Ed Roso family crest, proclaiming "This right here? This here is CHERCE!"
Leave us be consistent with DC lore....it's Barkseid.