I’m a man, and I voted against the fascists.

Because I’m not a fragile moron who thinks Daddy Trump will make women be nice to me.

The best Nicolas Cage movie, and it isn’t even close.

I want hammocks like a man o’ war.

Stack em three high and still have some legroom.

He knows. All they need is an excuse.

None of my ten friends ever encountered anybody connected with the operation of the deportation system or the concentration camps. None of them ever knew, on a personal basis, anybody connected with the Gestapo, the Sicherheitsdienst (Security Service), or the Einsatzgruppen (the Occupation Detachments, which followed the German armies eastward to conduct the mass killing of Jews). None of them ever knew anybody who knew anybody connected with these agencies of atrocity. Even Policeman Hofmeister, who had to arrest Jews for “protective custody” or “resettlement” and who saw nothing wrong in “giving the Jews land, where they could learn to work with their hands instead of with money,” never knew anyone whose shame or shamelessness might have reproached him had they stood face to face. The fact that the Police Chief of Kronenberg made him sign the orders to arrest Jews told him only that the Chief himself was afraid of getting into trouble “higher up.”

Sixty days before the end of the war, Teacher Hildebrandt, as a first lieutenant in command of a disintegrating Army subpost, was informed by the post doctor that an SS man attached to the post was going crazy because of his memories of shooting down Jews “in the East”; this was the closest any of my friends came to knowing of the systematic butchery of National Socialism.

I say none of these ten men knew; and, if none of them, very few of the seventy million Germans. The proportion, which was none out of ten in Kronenberg, would, certainly, have been higher among more intelligent, or among more sensitive or sophisticated people in, say, Kronenberg University or in the big cities where people circulate more widely and hear more. But I must say what I mean by “know.”

By know I mean knowledge, binding knowledge. Men who are going to protest or take even stronger forms of action, in a dictatorship more so than in a democracy, want to be sure. When they are sure, they still may not take any form of action (in my ten friends’ cases, they would not have, I think); but that is another point. What you hear of individual instances, second- or thirdhand, what you guess as to general conditions, having put half-a-dozen instances together, what someone tells you he believes is the case—these may, all together, be convincing. You may be “morally certain,” satisfied in your own mind. But moral certainty and mental satisfaction are less than binding knowledge. What you and your neighbors don’t expect you to know, your neighbors do not expect you to act on, in matters of this sort, and neither do you.

They Thought They Were Free— The Germans, 1933-45, Milton Mayer

Well then I have bad news about dementia and habitual stimulant abuse…

I hope every day of his life is the new worst one.

GOP: picks the most disgusting candidate possible

GOP when they get an abhorrently disgusting candidate:

I didn’t realize he was the bad guy in The Frighteners until recently. He did such an amazing job in that one— just a real piece of shit you loved to hate.

It’s whatever it needs to be at the time to keep Musk out of trouble.

This is exactly why training the police as warriors instead of as civil servants is so insidious and deadly.

It has to be reflected back into his stupid face.

I’m red/green color deficient, and even I can see it as orange. That’s some intense saturation.

Idk what it is about masculinity that loves submissive women

Here is an excellent book on the topic if you’re interested.

“I went to bed and woke up next to this unconscious woman… I was in my bed with the wife and dogs at the time, so she must’ve been a demon.”

You bet!

Exposing the moral depravity of reactionaries is kind of a pet project of mine.

Abilene Texas is a wretched hive of Christian nationalism and reactionary entitlement.

I only drive out there because I have family there; my niece was a victim of another pedo pastor there.

I have always failed to see why people view Donald Trump as anything other than a con man.

They’re either rubes who are indoctrinated into the reactionary cinematic universe or grifters who pretend he’s authentic to exploit the gullible.

Yeah, conservatives don’t have principles to abandon.

I’m imagining a seedy nest of lechery; empty whisky bottles strewn haphazardly on every surface imaginable. Opening kitchen doors is a gamble, and snake eyes means you’ve put your hand in some unidentifiably pungent, sticky, or greasy substance.

A glassy-eyed Giuliani sits on the battered leather couch that’s stained with a decade of fluids and spirits— he has become a part of it, sinking into the foam and springs. The lawyers kick his dangling foot, and life flutters back into his limbs; he shakes off the headache that has followed him like a bloodhound throughout his adulthood, letting it settle to a throbbing pulse in the back of his head. Black bile seeps out of this psychic wound as he cries out to an indifferent universe, but only a feeble croak escapes his lips.

Why won’t they release the pics?!

Because counting all the votes is detrimental to Republican prospects.