Fine list of schools there, and who knew they all house mouse-killing factories? Who knew all of these fine schools host entire departments that acquire animals, give them cancer, write pretend articles about them, and then kill them? Cue Lenny, Of Mice and Men …

It seems a demoralizing sort of thing to do with the tax money you and I fork over… Makes us feel like idiots to know that for sixteen years we’ve been subsidizing bigtime a pointless bloody charade, a riot of animal torture in the name of careerism.

But at least the research fraud at Columbia University has seriously set back progress toward a cure for cancer! That much at least we can take pride in!

Yes. I was sitting up in bed, reading, when the house shook and I heard a boom. It was loud enough that I got up and went outside, where I saw my across the street neighbor on his porch, doing exactly what I was doing.

When I read an hour later that a house twenty-eight miles away (by car) had exploded, it seemed impossible that I would have heard it. Yet – well, see my post’s title.

… no lower age limit on the carry and use of any gun.

“The only limit I can think of,” remarked Rep. Travis Smithson (Pemiscot), “is you know say a five year old… He’s going to have trouble hoisting and shooting an AK 47, but we’re also calling for non-mandatory training sessions for toddlers, pre-teens, and teenagers in the handling of assault rifles. It’s also pretty clear these boys the other day didn’t have body armor, which is important for self-defense while shooting. Training sessions will introduce our state’s shooters to various forms of protection.”

Governor DeSantis makes his banning announcement.

Video of his remarks.

… makes his debut.

The cofounder of the Seasteading Institute is Peter Thiel, who is also currently attempting to develop remote property in New Zealand with the hope of establishing a haven for a “cognitive elite” of “sovereign individuals” (clearly inspired by Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged). As [Douglas] Rushkoff points out, these entrepreneurs have always regarded the public and civic sectors as “antagonistic to their grand designs.” The creators of projects like ReGen and Seasteading have no interest in sustainable living or alleviating economic inequality. What they want is their own personal sandbox, unrestrained by governments, judicial oversight, or the collective will. These start-up societies reflect, if nothing else, a desire to create a new world from scratch and then choose who gets to be a part of it.

Quintessential American event the other day: Super Bowl. It lacked only one element to make it totally American.

Ah.

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Update: 21 injured, eight critically.

Let’s see if we can figure out what this was. Er, Kansas City is incredibly bloody. Guns going off all the time killing everyone in sight. So we can hardly be surprised by this massacre, no? We should probably be grateful there weren’t bunches of little massacres popping out all over the parade.

As to motive… LOL. Motive. A bunch of drunk/high assholes, average age 18, got excited, started tussling and talking shit, and one got pissed off but really just wanted to pull out his AK 47 and for once USE the fucker rather than just shlep it around with him everywhere. That’s my guess.

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Update #2: So far your blogeuse is exactly right. But then she’s been following American carnage for a long time and knows how these things go. Sixteen year olds are totally welcome to openly carry machine guns in Missouri; the legislature totally loves streets running with the blood of dead and dying toddlers. It’s the Missouri way.

 Trump simply exploited what people were already feeling—feelings that, according to the data, are rooted in authoritarianism, racism, and social dominance orientation. He was always about a “vibe,” and that vibe was to hurt the people his audience thought should be hurt... [T]here is a strong, underlying desire for an authoritarian fascist to rule the country and … even those who aren’t true believers [will] simply go along with it, or disbelieve it altogether. These perfectly nice, ordinary, generous, pleasant people are no different from any German in 1933–1945…  Trump [is] merely the invitation. He [is] an outlet for an unspoken desire to seize control and remake the nation, hurting the people who [need] it along the way.  

Hurt, hurt, hurt. Yet the author titles this piece NICE ORDINARY PEOPLE CAN BE FASCISTS.

Which is it, babe? Is it nice to be a sadist? Me no think so.

I’d put it this way: Sadists can behave themselves a lot of the time, but they’re still sadists; and non-sadists, even in ‘nice’ dealings with sadists, may well sense the sadism.

There’s plenty of evidence, for instance, that the daughter in law of the nation’s sadist-in-chief, perky pleasant Lara Trump, is an extreme sadist, deriving real pleasure from the spectacle of hurt and humiliated people.

She will soon chair the Republican National Committee. Put her name in my search engine.

Indeed so intimately, so thrillingly attuned is her sadism to that of her father in law that UD feels sure we will eventually learn she and he have been going at it hammer and tongs and zip ties for years. I’ve seen and heard enough of Lara Trump to identify her as a pervert who, like Trump himself, shouldn’t be broadcast during family hours. But most people still see the perky mask.

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Edward Albee once wrote that his plays condemn “complacency, cruelty, emasculation and vacuity; [they are] a stand against the fiction that everything in this slipping land of ours is peachy-keen.” His hyper-sadistic masterwork, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, considered by many the greatest American play of the later twentieth century, describes Americans (he names his two main characters George and Martha) as rage-filled self-loathers, pacifying their disgust at their stupid existence – everyone’s stupid existence – with alcohol, and, when that fails, attacking one another with a viciousness that definitely intends to destroy. Donald Trump is a kind of savior for these (tens of millions of) people – He’s doing their dirty work for them every day, eviscerating the world at a much higher level than they ever could.

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Like many of the most fervent evangelicals, these people just want the fucking shitty world to end, and they correctly identify Trump as the one who will get them there.

UD loves the phenom whereby the most bogus, most fraudulent, most stinky clinics and schools give themselves SOOOOPER religious names in an effort, I guess, to throw the government off the scent. Holy Health is scuzzy top to bottom but holy holy holy is their name. Sacred Heart of Jesus Most High Mighty Glorious Pure and Exalted Preparatory School (or whatever) exists solely to sell pretend high school degrees to flunkies whose sports skills have attracted the attention of college recruitment coaches.

But if even UD is on to the con, don’t you think the smarties at the DOJ etc are too? Me, if I were an investigator, I’d START with the holiest of holies.

Sports writers are outdoing themselves, describing the merdique behavior last week.

 At 1:28 pm, the stadium’s more sober patrons were already about seven drinks deep. They or their employers had paid good money — in some cases down-payment-on-a-house money — to see something depraved. A streaker who was still wearing pants wasn’t going to cut it… [In] the haze of Topo Chico strawberry guavas, Miller Lites and vodka sodas, the weed, the rain and the mud, the hooting, howling, and the grabassing, no one could be sure they were at a professional sports event. Every other data point suggested that, in reality, they had slipped into exactly where they wanted to be: a black hole of feral manhood… [T]he 10-drink cutoff was a very gentle suggestion. Bartender after bartender told group after group, “If you take care of me, I’ll take care of you.” I watched several men in their 40s and 50s tip hundred-dollar-bills after each round, and their wristbands were never scanned. For many, 10 soon became 20, which became face-planting into a urinal… To visit the toilets was to realize fully that no sporting event embodies its name as cosmically as the Waste Management Open. They stood in an unlit room at the end of a long, wet, musty, unlit hall. By 2:00, the plastic urinals — a green, eight-foot-tall structure where four men at a time pee toward each other — were overflowing, urine spilling onto mud-soaked All Birds. Nearly every Porta Potty around the perimeter was filled with cans of hard seltzers. 

What to do? Hm. Hm.

‘The PGA Tour has continually turned a blind eye toward drinking to excess at golf events, but after this week it no longer can... And if you’re wondering how important beer and alcohol sponsorship is to the tournament, the title sponsor of the Birds Nest, the off-course drinking and concert establishment, is Coors Light and the non-title sponsor is Jamison.’

On it, sir. Right on it.

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But hey. That’s nothin.

That pesky lil thang! Always forgettin bout it.

… but PQ was on my route back to the metro from the Natural History Museum…

… where UD failed to have anything like the spiritual experience she’s been having during her early morning visits to the National Gallery of Art, West Wing.

No surprise there: The art excites, room after room, the startle of beauty, which deepens into the shock of seeing …

Which in turn reveals the human all too human in flagrante.

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And although longtime readers know UD has a thing for geology, even the most, well, aesthetic rocks

fail to … transport your blogeuse. (Granite, With Orbicular Structure, Virvik, Finland) Even the karayzzziest calcite

leaves something to be desired in the coulda knocked me over with a feather department.

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The walk to the metro featured the much in the news office of the AG.

It was also instructive to pass the ugliest building in DC – the FBI.

The unplanted, stained planters. Fun burst of color from the traffic cone. Dead concrete wall, stage left; desperate flurry of flags stage right. Chain link fencing on the second floor is a nice touch, as is the uncompromising brutalism of absolutely everything. As soon as the FBI vacates (bet the people who work there can’t wait), we can look forward to the architectural finishing touch: demolition.

Not really a chorus; a very clear messaging system from tree to tree to tree.

They’re usually high up at some distance in our forest, but for the first time I heard one piercingly close call. Just one loud guttural repeated note; not the famous who cooks for you business.

“Too dark to see it,” said Mr UD as I grabbed my binoculars.

“I’ll try anyway,” said I, scanning nearby branches.

But it flew off, signaling with cooks for you and a whole bunch of other sounds that it was changing location.

And then — at least two other owls elsewhere in the woods answered this first one, with yet other songs.

And the whole group flew off.

A former Bush advisor who specializes in communications breaks the asshole barrier when referring to Trump, and he does it bigtime: On CNN’s State of the Union.

But he is quick to say the other thing: Millions of Americans like assholes, and the more their political assholes smell of shit the better.

Millions of Russians, as we speak, are pining for Stalin; millions of Italians for Mussolini, millions of Spaniards for Franco. It ain’t just Americans.

If some clever boots (Adam Phillips?) could figure out why millions of people absolutely adore assholes and follow their stench to the ends of the earth, it might be useful/interesting.