This article should be entitled “Big Pussy Quivers at Little Gun.” A New York Daily Snooze columnist aptly named Gersh Kuntzman (yes, I’m giggling like a juvenile at his name) recently tried firing an AR-15, because, you know… he wanted to feel like he was doing something after the shootings in Orlando. I would applaud him for trying to learn to defend himself with the most effective tool available on the market today, if it was, in fact, what he was doing, rather than trying to write an article about how horrible and easy to obtain this rifle is.
It feels like a bazooka — and sounds like a cannon.
One day after 49 people were killed in the Orlando shooting, I traveled to Philadelphia to better understand the firepower of military-style assault weapons and, hopefully, explain their appeal to gun lovers.
But mostly, I was just terrified.
Not in my hands. I’ve shot pistols before, but never something like an AR-15. Squeeze lightly on the trigger and the resulting explosion of firepower is humbling and deafening (even with ear protection).
The recoil bruised my shoulder. The brass shell casings disoriented me as they flew past my face. The smell of sulfur and destruction made me sick. The explosions — loud like a bomb — gave me a temporary case of PTSD. For at least an hour after firing the gun just a few times, I was anxious and irritable.
Poor baby. One has to wonder how delicate are his lilac scented labia if he loses bladder control while shooting a varmint rifle. And yes, that’s what it is. To confirm, my characterization, I pinged Ted Nugent, who knows infinitely more about firearms than a newspaper columnist, and who said I was absolutely correct.
One has to wonder, as my friend Jaime notes, if he seated the rifle in his gaping vagina, as it appears to contain enough sand to provide the stability he needed.
A “temporary case of PTSD,” this douche pickle says! Really? Spoken like a spoiled, brandy sipping, clap-infected walking testicle who never bothered to talk to real warriors who came home with real post traumatic stress after seeing and dealing with things this sniveling cock rocket only sees in the movies!
“The recoil bruised my shoulder.” I think you misspelled “vagina” there, Sparky. And this is not meant to offend the numerous vagina-bearers (myself included) who could outshoot and outclass this whining cunt without effort.
By the way, Kuntzman, my daughter has been shooting guns with much more recoil since she was 10 years old, and she thinks you’re a gaping twat, as does my son, who just arrived at Army Basic Training.
Oh, and the whining gun grabbers at Rolling Stone also have you beat in the testicle department. They acknowledge the semi-automatic rifle has nominal recoil, which, along with its ease of use, contributes to its popularity.
Fact is, you sniveling, pusillanimous pustule, that this rifle is a semi-automatic. It doesn’t “spray” anything. It fires one round every time the shooter pulls the trigger, which is no different than a normal handgun, and the speed with which it fires depends entirely on the skill of the person who holds it.
It’s only cavernous, oozing snatches like you, who want to exaggerate and make it seem more deadly, more dangerous, and more horrifying than it is in a pathetic and transparent effort to promote its ban.
And to that effort, and to you, I say “get bent.”
Yesterday’s New York Times had this feature article on David Petraeus’ former piece of ass Paula Broadwell. If you don’t remember her name, no one can blame you. This is the woman who was discovered to have been giving up the poonanie to the now-former CIA Director and rock star General widely credited with turning the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan around in our favor.
Reading the wailing sob story about how poor Paula’s stellar career has come to a screeching halt, one gets the feeling the NYT is trying to drum up sympathy for the woman who has received much harsher treatment at the hands of society than a man. A buddy of mine pointed out “gender bias” as being behind Broadwell’s lack of success while Petraeus recovered and landed on his feet after having pled guilty to mishandling classified information and sentenced to two years probation and a $100,000 fine.
Nearly four years later, Mr. Petraeus is now a partner in a New York private equity firm, and has advised the White House on the war against the Islamic State. He publishes oped articles, speaks publicly and has affiliations with three universities, including Harvard.
Ms. Broadwell has struggled to find her footing. For weeks, reporters camped outside her home in Charlotte, N.C., where she was trying to restore her marriage. Friends sent over groceries and hot meals for her family — her husband, Scott, and sons, 8 and 10 — and staged interference so Ms. Broadwell could cut across her neighbors’ lawns, climbing over fences, to escape for a morning run.
She lost her military security clearance; her promotion from major to lieutenant colonel was revoked when the news broke. The F.B.I. still has her computers — including her dissertation research — and she withdrew from her Ph.D. program. She said she was told in more than one job interview that, while she was qualified, hiring her would be a public relations nightmare.
Well, what the hell did she expect, accolades? Pats on the back and “attagirls” for bagging the General?
Yes, she lost her clearance. I’m fairly sure Petraeus doesn’t have his either. That’s what happens when you take classified information home and share it with someone who has no need to know. Yes, she lost her promotion. It happens all the time to male troops who are caught in flagrante delicto. BG Jeffrey Sinclair was dropped two ranks for sticking his dick into a subordinate officer. MAJ Jim Gant admitted to an affair with a Washington Post correspondent, busted down to Captain and forced to retire, despite an illustrious career as a Green Beret.
Did little Paula expect special treatment?
At least she wasn’t charged, fined, and put on probation like Petraeus was.
But that hasn’t stopped some from implying that double standards are keeping poor Paula down.
I disagreed. Strongly.
Fact is Broadwell’s ego was being stroked like a Roman cock at an orgy, being flown to Petraeus for weeks at a time, being on the receiving end of his thoughts, and hopping around in his bed.
She bagged Petraeus. THE Petraeus. She was writing his biography. He became her mentor. That must have been quite the boost to her overachieving ego.
But fact was she was his subordinate. She didn’t have even an ounce of the star power he had, and in the end, she didn’t have the illustrious career that he had either. Sure she had the degrees, was a research associate at Harvard, was the deputy director of the counterterrorism center at Tufts, but he was the one widely credited with turning around two difficult wars, and he was the one who was the Director of the CIA. His was the household name, and she was the lackey.
No, she didn’t get the dream career she thought she so richly deserved, but arguably neither did he. Despite grumblings from some Republicans that he should be drafted to run for President, fact is he intentionally mishandled classified information, much of which was found in his house, lying around in an unsecured drawer. Kind of sounds like another candidate currently running for president, hmmmmmm? I’m sure he could have had a successful political career, but despite writing op eds and advising the White House, he’s working at an equity firm. Let’s get some perspective, eh?
Bill Clinton landed on his feet too, while Monica Lewinsky faded into obscurity, but again, it wasn’t because there was some kind of double standard discrepancy between men and women, but because Clinton was the President of the United States, and Lewinsky was a nobody – an intern kid, who was an unknown then, especially compared to the leader of the free world! Arguably, even Lewinsky landed on her feet. Media appearances, social scene invitations, commercials, talk shows and reality TV, a degree from the London School of Economics, and fashion design. I’d say she landed on her feet, although it took some time.
Plenty of rich and powerful women have affairs and land on their feet. Hell, Madonna has made an entire career out of it!
So let’s not pretend that Broadwell’s lack of success is somehow related to her plumbing. We don’t know how far she would have climbed in her career had she not hopped in the sack with Petraeus, but nothing is guaranteed in life, and the decisions we make dictate the lives we live.
So, no. I have no sympathy for Broadwell. What I find really galling is that she somehow blames the media for her plight, and has founded a non-profit combating gender bias in the language the media uses to report its stories.
With a friend, Kyleanne Hunter — a former Marine attack helicopter pilot — she has founded a nonprofit, Think Broader, focused on combating gender bias in the news media. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the sliver of bias that bothers her the most is “mistress.”
She recently presented on the topic to a roomful of editors at The Huffington Post, as well as to a team at Yahoo and the United Nations. She is working with a professor at Harvard to try to come up with a system for tracking biased language, she said — from unnecessary words (“female fighter pilot”) to journalists primarily relying on male sources to the subtle ways language can affect the way an article is framed.
She has also, quietly, reached out to female journalists she thought would be sympathetic, asking them to stop using the word “mistress”: Christiane Amanpour at CNN; Norah O’Donnell at CBS; Susan Glasser at Politico, who advised her staff to refrain from using the word.
For the record, I don’t think it’s the word “mistress” that is so unappealing. It’s the act of keeping a side piece that’s distasteful. No matter what word you use, lover, whore, etc., it doesn’t change the nature of the thing, no matter how much you pressure the media to use alternate language.
Maybe Broadwell should try and understand that, instead of trying to push the onus onto others to somehow heal her wounded character.
…those mistakes are epic in their stupidity!
There was the “Little Green Men” incident, in which Russian troops, wearing Russian uniforms, wielding Russian weapons, but without unit insignia, occupied the Simferopol airport, Crimean military bases, and other strategically important sites. Putin at first denied that Russian troops were operating in Crimea and claimed that it was Ukrainian militia groups trying to imitate Russians. Oops! Not so much. The weapons used were only issued to Russian troops, and could not have been sold in Ukrainian shops, as Putin claimed, since it’s illegal to sell or carry firearms in Ukraine, other than for hunting. There would have been no place to purchase said weapons – issued only to Russian troops.
Then there was the MH-17 stupidity, in which Russia actually claimed that the West (read: United States), NATO (read: the United States), boogie man (read: the United States) was responsible for the downing of the plane, despite the fact that a known Russian operative bragged on social media that his monkeys downed the plane, before realizing that OOOOPS! it was a civilian aircraft – filled with innocent people, whom they just murdered – and removed the social media post.
The post says that an An-26 aircraft was just shot down in the Torez region, and it’s currently lying somewhere behind a mine shaft. Then it said, “We warned you not to fly in our skies!” and claimed that the craft didn’t affect any populated areas when it crashed and that “peaceful people didn’t suffer. Except for the innocent civilians this Russian turd and his savages murdered, that is. He even posted video of the “downing of the bird.” (Shut up! It’s the best translation into English I could come up with.)
To make matters even worse, the newspaper Komsomolskaya Pravda published an alleged conversation supposedly intercepted by the Ukrainian security services, recorded between two “western agents” who were allegedly discussing their plans to down the craft prior to the incident. The burning stupid of this was evident in the really bad English of the “western” agents that sounded like a shitty Google Translate transcription, non-western phrasing, and the accents – OH THE ACCENTS!
I wondered then, between snorts and giggles, if someone in the FSB was smoking something laced with something else, because the Russians are generally pretty good at propaganda operations.
And then, I saw this in today’s New York Times. Jesus Christ on a toilet!
So apparently, after the release of the “Panama Papers,” which implicated Ukrainian President Petro Poroshenko in some… well… unsavory stuff, the NYT got a letter ostensibly from the Ukrainian President himself, wanting to address an editorial the paper ran on March 31, rightfully pointing out Poroshenko’s failure to address prevalent corruption in his country.
“I would like to respectfully request a telephone conference with you personally in order to attempt to convince you that opinions published in the article are without merit,” the letter read, finishing with the neat, curlicued signature of Mr. Poroshenko.
Well, alrighty, then! The NYT set up a phone call with “Poroshenko,” and that’s when things got funky.
The complainer’s comments were so suspect that the Times participants, including some newsroom journalists listening in, declined to publish an article on the matter, but instead began to investigate.
On Wednesday, however, edited audio of the call was mysteriously posted on YouTube, and the Times participants found themselves caught up in an apparent propaganda war between Russia, which is backing separatist forces in Ukraine, and Ukraine’s government.
The call, said Carol Giacomo, an editorial writer, was odd “because the more we got into it, the more we had questions.”
“The guy who was supposedly Poroshenko was in the background, and we couldn’t hear him very clearly, and the translator’s voice was dominant,” she said.
The translator told the journalists that the president, who has been identified as an account holder in the Panama Papers revelations about offshore accounts, had $500 million stashed in them.
The translator also quoted the voice identified as Mr. Poroshenko’s as saying he did not want to return the money to his country, in part because he did not want to pay taxes on it.
Yeah, because the President of Ukraine would speak Russian through his translator, even though he speaks fluent English, and usually conducts press interviews with foreign journalists in that language. *snort*
Because the President of Ukraine would tell American media that he had $500 million in offshore accounts. *more snort*
Because the President of Ukraine would admit to American media that he was hiding money for tax evasion purposes. *YUUUUGE snort*
Funnier yet, according to the article, the alleged Poroshenko “signature” was identical to a Google image result for Mr. Poroshenko’s signature, and the email address for Poroshenko’s alleged “press officer” was a fucking GMAIL account! *SOOO much snort!*
What in the everloving, grinning fuck, Russia? Are you really that pathetic nowadays? I mean, I realize it’s the Times and all, but still… Really?
And when caught in the hoax, this douche who identified himself as “Sergei Panfilov,” buckled and admitted to the lie, but tried to spin the story and claim that Poroshenko’s office was so upset with the editorial, that they hired him to stage the hoax.
Because, of course, admitting to keeping $500 million in offshore accounts in order to evade taxes is exactly what a Ukrainian president accused of not addressing corruption in his country would do to mitigate the situation!
I would never underestimate Russia. Really, I wouldn’t. But this monumental stupid isn’t the first time they’ve epically fucked up their propaganda efforts, and I keep wondering how anyone at the Kremlin thought this was in any way a good idea, and whether they’re now floating somewhere at the bottom of the Moscow River sporting some fashionable cement shoes and a gag.
Dystopian literature many times focuses on the aftermath of an apocalyptic event that leads to a complete breakdown of society and its rebirth – many times with overt authoritarianism as the result. It’s a familiar story: Society breaks down —> People clamor for peace and serenity —> A leader or a group of leaders step in and give the people hope —> Ultimately, they consolidate power and control over the people —> Resistance movements form —> War, rinse, repeat.
What I love about The Walking Dead is that the show portrays that complete cycle – from breakdown onward – and while the whole zombie thing is less than realistic, the realism and raw power of the show comes from the living. It comes from the characters’ interactions with one another vice their constant zombie eradication. Zombies are pretty much like cockroaches with teeth at this point. Fatal head trauma – DONE!
Surviving the living? Now that’s another story.
We’ve seen some pretty brutal survival techniques. Cannibalism. The killing of a dangerous child, which led many to believe that the show had stepped over an unspoken red line (I disagree, for the record), Rick taking a chunk out of the neck of a bad guy with his teeth in order to protect his loved ones – in order to prevent his son from getting raped by a savage thug in the woods… We’ve seen a “kill them first or become a victim again” attitude from our core group of survivors, and we’ve seen it take its toll on their humanity.
Rick always asks newcomers a couple of interesting questions: how many walkers have you killed? How many people have you killed? Why? In the apocalypse, the questions are a relevant and (provided that the responses are truthful) insightful look into the character of the respondent. How many walkers have you killed? Translation: are you physically capable of surviving? How many people have you killed? Translation: are you emotionally and mentally ready to do what must be done, even if your adversary is another human? Why? Translation: are you a survivor who only kills to neutralize an active threat, or are you a murderer? Are you a moral human being, or are you a threat?
Ultimately, the question is: what are you willing to do to survive, and how are you willing to do it?
In last night’s episode, Eugene Porter, who until recently was just a weird, borderline creepy ass weasel, who tricked others into protecting him from the zombies, and got his rocks off watching his friends having sex, grew some balls and showed the world what he was willing to do to survive in the apocalypse. He realized he could no longer remain scared and weak in the apocalypse. He understood that in order to survive, he must kill or be killed. He acted on it. Whoo boy, did he act on it!
To make a long story short, Eugene was captured by Negan’s goons after a fight with Abraham while on a supply run. The goons ran into Daryl, Rosita, and Denise on a parallel supply run, killed Denise with a shocking arrow that pierced her head and her right eye, forced Eugene to kneel, and threatened to kill them unless Daryl, Rosita, and Eugene take them to Alexandria to loot the place. Eugene turned his head slightly and saw Abraham hiding behind some barrels. Apparently Abraham had been following Eugene, even though he walked away and left him alone after their row. Eugene used that odd intellect of his to create a diversion by seemingly betraying Abraham and directing Negan’s goons to the barrels, telling them another one of their group was hiding there.
And then things got interesting.
As attention shifted to the barrels, Eugene turned around and chomped down on the lead goon’s crotch. Hard. Bit down and didn’t let go like a pitbull with a porterhouse. Hung on as the goon flailed and screamed, teeth firmly attached to gigglestick and berries!
Later in the episode, an injured Eugene lies in the infirmary, and Abraham, voice filled with admiration at Eugene’s determination to live and protect his friends, tells him, “You knew how to bite a dick, Eugene. I mean that with utmost respect.” I’m still giggling at this like a puberty-struck middle-schooler. Yeah, I’m immature. Sue me.
But there’s a larger issue at stake, beyond the cock biting. Can you escape the apocalypse – zombie or otherwise – with your humanity intact? What are you willing to do to survive? Are you willing to threaten said humanity in exchange for another few breaths in this world?
Was staging a preemptive attack against Negan and his gorillas moral? Was it murder of people who did nothing to threaten them, or was it self-defense with the knowledge that the thugs would eventually attack Alexandria?
From Carol’s exit, it’s a bit obvious where she stands. She never calls it “murder,” but it’s evident that the killing bothered her enough to go walkabout. Carol has stabilized from her extreme swing from meek, abused Carol to warrior, Queen of the Apocalypse Carol, and the things she has had to do to survive are beginning to bother her as her pendulum finds a more normal course. Did she really have to kill Karen and David to prevent them from turning after dying of the flu? Did she really need to terrorize Sam? Did she really need to kill Lizzie?
For us, watching from our couches every week, the answers are clear. You do what you need to do to protect those whom you love, and threats come in all shapes and sizes – even young, innocent-looking ones.
But from the perspective of someone living it… where do you draw the line to ensure that you don’t become like the Termites? Just what kind of atrocity are you willing to commit in order to protect yourself and the ones you love? Would you chew through the enemy’s jugular Would you chomp down on his twig and berries? And how long before you’re chowing down on unsuspecting people’s sweetbreads a la Hannibal Lecter?
What would you do?